Tuesday, July 13, 1926

I stood facing myself in the mirror. The costume was red and green, with orange ruffles and pom poms. I shook my head and groaned. “This costume is for a white faced clown, I play the bum. This is an insult. I’m not wearing it!” I said, slamming my fist against the door.

“Easy there my good friend. I should be so lucky to have the boss take such a liking to you, as to buy you such a fancy costume,” said Ambrose, lying back on his bed laughing. “Wear the stupid costume just for tonight, along with your normal make-up. Once the boss sees the obvious mismatch, he’ll have you change back.”

“I suppose you’re right. It’s not about the costume, it’s whether I can get the elephants to follow me through town,” I said, sitting back down.

“Now that’s the spirit old chap. Be positive,” he said, shaking his fist in the air. I know he was making fun of me, but more in a brotherly sort of way.

There was a knock on the door. “You may enter,” said Ambrose.

The door opened, Andy Bee rushed in, out of breath, “Harvey, they’re ready for you.” He looked at me confused. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

“Don’t ask,” I said, rolling my eyes as I grabbed my fiddle, following him out the door.

“Break a leg!” said Ambrose, laughing.

The boss and the elephant trainers were leading the elephants, adorned in elaborate, colorful headgear and fancy saddles, to a staging area. The boss looked me up and down and said, “That costume doesn’t quite match your make-up. Oh well, it will have to do. So Harvey, you think you can charm the elephants like you did at the river?” he said, puffing his chest and holding his cigar.

“I’ll do my best, Sir.” I said, nervously picking at my costume.

“That’s all I ask my good man,” He patted me on the back, gave a half hearted smile, and walked away.

Randall Jefferson, the ringmaster, stepped forward dressed in a bright red suit, black top hat, and a curly black mustache. “Places everyone. It’s showtime!” he yelled, raising his hat high in the air.

Andy Bee climbed atop Rosie with the help of Herc, the strong man. Jimbo walked up to me and pulled me aside. “Don’t screw this up clown,” he said.

The restless elephants tried to turn around. Rosie roared and Eddie yelled at her to calm down. Jimbo motioned to me to begin playing the fiddle. All eyes were upon me. I put the base of the fiddle against my jaw and gently placed the bow across the strings. I started to play a waltz and the elephants responded like before, by swaying to the music. Andy smiled with relief as Rosie calmed down. 

“That’s not the music we use to lead the circus. People expect a lively march, not a sad waltz,” said Randall, all flustered. Don’t you know March of the Gladiators?” 

“Sorry, I don’t,” I said nervously.

“What good are you then. Get the band up here now and we’ll lead the parade like it’s supposed to be led. The band moved forward and began to play, but the elephants became restless and moody. The boss returned and said, “What’s the problem here?”

“We can’t lead a parade with a sad waltz. I thought you said the clown could play the march?” said Randall, arguing with the boss. A few seconds later, the ringleader came back and said that the elephants would be fifth in line, the ringmaster and the marching band would lead the parade. I would stick to playing the waltz.

The marching band led the way along with the ringmaster, followed by clown cars, and the prancing ponies. I played the fiddle, following the clowns on stilts. The elephants swayed to the music and eagerly followed behind me. Andy Bee was thrilled that everything went smoothly.

People on the sidelines were amazed how the elephants seemed to dance along with the music. The trainers were amazed at how well behaved the elephants acted. Bullhooks weren’t needed once on the parade route.

 Once we arrived at the circus grounds, the boss approached me smiling. “Mr Jones, let me shake your hand. You did an amazing job leading the elephants today. We’ve been having behavior problems with them for months, and you come along, and now they are compliant. I want you to do your magic with the fiddle again tonight at the show, but I’m sorry, that costume does not match your make-up or the mood you portray. I want you to wear your normal hobo costume in the future,” he said, patting me on the shoulder.  

I went back to my wagon to change clothes. As I walked in the door, Ambrose was sitting on his bed. “My my my, I must say that you did an amazing job, Harvey. I’m impressed. 

“Thanks, Ambrose. I need a drink.”