"It's time for me to go in," said the clown. "My song comes now. Just
you go along with Casey 'ere, into the dressing-room. He'll get you
something dry to wear out of my box. Don't forget one thing: we're all
as thick as thieves 'ere, whether we're honest men or not. You'll find
every man, woman and child wot appears in the ring to be absolutely
square and honest. They've got to be. The bad men are not the
performers. You'd find that out if you was with 'em a bit. I don't
mind tellin' of it to you, as a consolation, that there is two real
murderers among the canvasmen and a dozen or more pussons which are
wanted for desp'rit things. Nobody peaches on 'em, mind you, and
that's the way it goes. We've just _got_ to stand together. Hi! Hi!"
He was off with a rush. A few minutes later he was heard singing his
lay in the ring, the then popular and familiar ditty, "Whoa, Emma!"
with a crude but vociferous chorus of male voices to "join in the
refrain." Casey, without further instructions, and asking no
questions, led the youth into the men's section. Here all was
confusion. A dozen men were stripping themselves of one set of tights
to don another, for in those days the ordinary acrobat did many turns
in the process of earning his daily bread.
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