Slowly they approached the vacant lots beyond the business section of
the town, known year in and year out to the youth of S---- as "the
show grounds." Now they began to encounter straggling, envious atoms
of the populace, wanderers who could not produce the admission fee and
who were not permitted by the rough canvasmen to venture inside the
charmed circle laid down by the "guy-ropes." At the corner of the
tented common stood the "ticket wagon," the muddy plaza in front of it
torn by the footprints of many human beings and lighted by a great
gasoline lamp swung from a pole hard by. Beyond was the main entrance
of the animal tent, presided over by uniformed ticket takers. Here and
there, in the gloomy background, stood the canvas and pole wagons,
shining in their wetness against the feeble light that oozed through
the opening between the sidewall and the edge of the flapping main
top, or glistening with sudden brightness in response to the passing
lantern or torch in the hand of a rubber-coated minion who "belonged
to the circus,"--a vast honor, no matter how lowly his position may
have been.
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