Ringling Brothers Route Book, 1892

From: Offical Route Book of Ringling Bros. World’s Greatest Railroad Shows, Season of 1892, Buffalo, NY: Courier Co., 1892. Compiled by O. H. Kurtz. Lists of staff in all departments, performers, program, and detailed day-by-day route. Permission to place the information from this route book on the Circus Historical Society website has been provided by Feld Entertainment, Inc.™, Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey™. Circus World Museum's Parkinson Library provided the photocopy of this route book. All information should be checked with additional sources. There will be spelling and typographical errors.

Dedication

As my girl has gone clear back on me since writing the above,
I respectfully dedicate this boo to

“Hey Rube, King of the Sawdust,”

Who never went back on a Circus man.

Introduction

Among the nobler managers of America, who have sought to make the current amusement era an “age of better metal,” the Ringling quintette stand proudly eminent, poised upon five of the highest peaks that are known to the circus world. They are now in the full flush of fame and fortune. Great glorious gains and rousing round receipts have heaped their coffers full. With lucky stars on foreheads sound in judgment, they still aspire to “grow from more to more.” To see them plumed with victory is pleasant, for their record is white as linen. They treat the public as friends, and the level scales of justice hang over all their doings. They have never stooped to questionable methods. They have always believed that being sharp is all right, and being sharpers all wrong. With banners of victory flying and bugles of triumph blowing, their show has closed the eventful season of 1892. It has scored a tremendous business all along the line, from the time the first drum taps sounded clear down to the closing stand.

Many thanks are due to the various heads of departments for their noble and faithful work. To those who bore the good tidings, the very grandest advance brigade ever organized by a circus, our very especial thanks are warmly due. So wide was their billing that “Ringling Day” ceased being a town affair, and its business drained the population of counties. To all the motley army of employees a thousand thanks are due for their high deportment and ever efficient service. They take their cue from the Ringling Brothers, who work with that harmonious accord which makes a combine of brothers the strongest partnership known. As the hand’s five fingers of different length when bent are seen to meet equally, so the five Ringlings, bent to their work, have one common stature, and merge to one common harmony.

In compiling this book I have had full sway over manuscript, and for everything contained therein I am strictly and solely accountable. No doubt there are lines that might have been blue-penciled, and perhaps, as in case of the man with the second concert announcement, there is “something I forgot to mention.” My business as a circus juggler would hardly require me to juggle the English language, and besides there are spots on the sun and flies on Nancy Hanks.

And now, lovely or lively reader, as the sex may be, I submit my first and last Route Book. Whoever you chance to be, I trust you will live a happy life, and die of extreme old age. I am, “yours without a murmur,” - O. H. Kurtz.

Proprietors and Managers

Department Superintendents

Financial Staff

Miscellaneous Officials

Advance Advertising Department

Advertising Cars

Car No. 2. - “The Thunder Bird”

Brigade of Rustlers, Charles Ellis, Manager
Edward Green, Boss Billposter
W. C. Hovey, Lithographer
M. Fagan, Programmer

Billposters: G. B. Buford, B. Lester, R. D. Burke, Frank Ward, J. Lester, J. S. Downey, Frank Otto, W. Cook, H. Kelley, W. Collinger, M. Burke, Mike Boylan, Frank Frye, Charles Walters. W. Green, Porter.

Car No. 3. - “The Battle Bolt”

Brigade of Hustlers, Thomas Dailey, Manager
W. M. Franklin, Boss Billposter
W. Willey, Lithographer

Billposters: J. H. Brown, H. P. Cushing, T. Dalton, B. F. Duschane, Geo. Slader, W. Glad, Lou Harrison, Ed Norris, J. Sullivan, C. Trenton, G. H. Saunders, W. P. Hogan. H. Allen, Porter.

Car No. 4. - “The War Eagle”

Brigade of Warriors, Charles Walters, Manager
Charles Murray, Boss Billposter
Frank Murray, Lithographer

Billposters: Henry Dilley, James French, Geo. Powell, Tom Ward, Wm. Morton, Charles Trenton, Ed Warner, H. C. Cushing, Fred Kettler, Mort. Nelson, Ed. Norris. Will Crippen, Porter.

Ticket Department

Door Tenders

Reserved Seat Ticket Sellers

Reserved Seat Gate Tenders: Caius Sylvester, George Maxfield.

Reserved Seat Ushers: Dick Martin, Head Usher. John Bone, Al Gilson, Charles Drum, Addison Brown, Mat Hubbert, J. Robertson.

Railroad Department

Size of Train

Sleeping Car Department

Mechanical Department

Property Men

Stage No. 1.
Will Smith, James Hicks, Fred Schofield, Frank Eckerson.
Chas. Hardway, Curtain man
John Shortley, Curtain man
Schuyler Montgomery, Supt. of Dressing Room
Fred Nass, In charge of Leaping Run
Ernest Ablemans ,In charge of Vernon Bros’ Aerial Rigging

Canvas Department

Big Top Men

Charles Drum, Charles Pearley, John Knell, Wm. Whilson, Howard Hubbard, Pat Gilmore, J. K. Robertson, Walter Spaulding, Arthur Dun, John Bone, John Rymar, Ed. Foy, Geo. Louis, Ed. Bitting, B. Furgerson, John Bismark, John Hartley, L. Dooley, Geo. Babbitt, John Collins, Mike Higgins, Wm. Norton, Wm. Morrey, Carl Clair, James Adair. J. Drudy, James Foster, Richard Martin, Geo. Clark, Wm. Dullivan, F. C. Klopfer, James Hickey, Pearl Day, Richard Howard, Fred Waldron, Fred Warth, Caius Sylvester, John Hose, Morris Ahern, Harry Sargent, Steve Brodie, Mick Dun, Fred Leavett, James Sinclair, S. Herbert, Geo. Welzel, James Donahoe, Wm. Keys, John Boles, John Lynch, Dinnie Powers, Wm. Cramer, Chas. Prentis, Thos. Myaco, Geo. Horner, Bob Long.

Blue Seat Men (Front)

Blue Seat Men (Back)

Reserved Seat Men

Oblong Men

Horsetent Men

Side Show Canvasmen

Ring Makers

Ringling Brothers Wardrobe Tent

Dimensions of Canvas, 1892

Chandelier Department

Wardrobe Department

Ringling Brothers’ Menagerie

Cages and Animals, in regular order

Cage 21, Beautiful Tropical Birds Cage 32, Silver Bear Cage 27, Sable Antelope Cage 40, Pair South American Llamas Cage 41, African Zebra Cage 31, South American Tapir Cage 38, Many Merry Monkeys Cage 35, Beautiful Ibex Cage 34, Russian Deer, Young Ibex Cage 36, Asiatic Lion and Three Cubs   Cage 33, Pair of Mexican Lions Cage 29, African Lion and Lioness Cage 26, Pair of Royal Bengal Tigers

Cage 23, Puma and Leopard Cage 42, Giant White Nile Hippopotamus Cage 22, Pair of African Hyenas Cage 25, Pair of South American Jaguars Cage 28, Pair Australian Kangaroos Cage 24, Monkey-faced Comedians Cage 39, Mammoth Grizzly Bear Cage 43, Ant-Eaters, Armadillo, Condor Cage 19, Pair of African Ostriches Cage 45, Magnificent Mountain Lions Cage 44, Gnu, or Horned Horse Cage 46, Black Swans, White Peacocks, Golden Pheasants

Den Men

Bert Marshall - Four Cages of Lions Charles Grothe - Tigers, Hyenas and Jaguars Fred Bradway - Hippopotamus Den J. C. Grinn - Gnu, Zebra, Ibex, Antelope

William Bearse - Monkeys and Kangaroos William Wallace - Leopard, Puma, Tapir, Deer, Young Ibex James Warren - Ostriches, Ant-Eaters, Armadillo, Condor Clinton Berry - Bears, Birds and Monkeys

Elephant Men

G. W. Ezell, Superintendent
Albert Mann, Assistant
Names of elephants: Babe, Jules, Fanny, Zip, Queen, Lou.

Camel Men: Harry Wilton, Fred Wilbey.

Keepers of Equine Wonders

Julius Bresslau, Prince Chaldean, mane 9 feet 3 inches
Harry Walton, Bird, the Demon or Hairless Horse

Middle Uncaged Collection: Two Camels, four Dromedaries, two Elk, two Zebus or Sacred Cattle of India, one African Water Buffalo, fifteen Icelandic Welsh and Shetland Ponies, three Trick Mules, Bird, the wonderful Hairless Horse, and Prince Chaldean, the long-maned Percheron beauty.

Ring Stock

Hippodrome Stock

Baggage Stock

Stable Men

Eight Horse Drivers
Charles Tollworthy, Big Band Wagon
Robert Meek, Moscow Bell Chariot
James McCall, Hippopotamus Den
Harry Moran, Second Band Wagon

Six Horse Drivers
Elkanah Walters, Third Band Wagon
Harry Lewis, Organ Tableau
James McCafferty, Continental Band Wagon
Charlie Clark, Neptune Tableau
Louis Hall, St. George Tableau

Four Horse Drivers: John Richards, Geo. Tolles, Louis Randall, Frank Sullivan, Charles Bowser, Tom Neylon, Geo. C. Kinney, Geo. Thayer, Fred Gmahling, Nick Strauss, Frank Cole, Otto Kuhl, James Graff, John Shea, George Ackelson, Otto Ziegler, I. J. Clark, Tom Murphy, Wm. King, Wm. Ellis, John Mumphord.

Pull Up Drivers: George Barton, Charles Watson, Wm. Whitted.
Delevan Alexander, Veterinary Surgeon.

Hotel De Miller

Waiters

Midnight Lunch Cafe

Grand Museum of Marvels

Solicitors

Curiosities and Performers

Side Show Band

Confectionery Department

Concert

Programme

Concert Orchestra

Ringling Brothers’ Grand Military Band

Band No. 1 Parade

Band No. 2 Parade

Band No. 3 Parade

Field Band

Conveyed in the beautiful Continental Band Wagon of national design and banner colors, and surmounted by the draped living figure of Liberty. All wore blue Continental costumes crowned with three-cornered hats, in the style of “Ye Olden Time.”

The Bells of Moscow

The Giant Highway Locomotive, Hercules

Bugle Brigade, Inside Pageant

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Performers

From the city of Yeddo, Whose feats invade the realm of the impossible.
S. Oura, Manager. Ando Hamakichi, Akimoto, Tan Zabaro, Toyou Kichi, Sam Kichi, San Kichi, Miss Oume, Miss Okee.

Leapers and Tumblers

As they stood on the run.
Francis Reed, John Rooney, Harry Ashton, Chas. Vernon, Belford, McPhee, Marks, Dan O’Brien, Mike Rooney, Natalie, Brazil, Goetschius, Alton, Turnour, Wm. Ashton, Sunlin, Debonnaire.

Catchers

Ben. Vernon, Levis, Moncayo, Tybell, Kurtz.

“Carried the Banner”

Tybell, Levis,

Clowns

Schafer, Sunlin, Billings, Goetschius, O’Brien, Frisco, Natalie, Debonnaire, Turnour.

Ring Masters

Charles Reed, J. H. Levis, Charles O’Dell, Julian Tybell, William Ashton.

Four Horse Chariot Drivers

Al. Ringling, Starter.
Charles O’Dell, Rhoda Royal, John Rooney, Francis Reed.

Roman Standing Riders

Mike Rooney, J. H. Levis, Charles O’Dell.

Lady Jockeys

Ella Cook, Mollie Regan, Lilly White, Allie Jackson, Jennie Golden.

Gentlemen Jockeys

John Engel, Jack Foley, Frank Jones, George Williams.

Runners

Clate Alexander, Bailey Dawson.

Tandem Riders

Charles O’Dell, John Rooney.

Elephant Race Riders

F. C. Bradway, Albert Mann. Bert Marshall.

Camel Race Riders

William Wallace, James Warren, Clinton Berry.

Clown Sulky Race Riders

Jules Turnour, Lew Sunlin.

Sack Race

Charles Drum, John Wilson, James Oates.

Wheelbarrow Race

Bert Cooley, Frank Ripley, Oscar Lynch, Charles Mann, Peter Newman.

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Official Programme

Operatic and Popular Musical Selections, Grand Military Band. The most novel, new and artistic musical festival ever heard under canvas, introducing many beautiful solos and displays of individual excellence. Concluding with the grand descriptive overture, “A Trip to Coney Island,” depicting in a realistic manner the following story of incident: Off to the boat, the farewell cannon shot, the steamboat whistle “all aboard,” “Life on the Ocean Wave,” the Italian boat orchestra and jubilee singers, landing whistle “all ashore,” the carousal bell, passing a free and easy ejecting an unpleasant customer, the little German street band, entering West Brighton hotel and hearing the greatest living cornetist, Mr. James Hennessey; thunder in the distance, storm, clouds break away; Seidl’s famous orchestra at Brighton Beach, locomotive whistle, arrival at Manhattan Beach and hearing Gilmore’s famous band and anvil chorus; signal for Paine’s fireworks, cannon shots, sky-rockets, etc, and “Home, Sweet Home.”

Auditorium Clowns. Preluding the circus performance, laughable capers and antics in the seats and among the audience, by Goetschius, “The Broadway Swell,” and Schafer, “The German Emigrant.”

Display No. 1.

See, the Conquering Hero Comes. Colossal first production of the great historical pageant, Caesar’s Triumphal Entry Into Rome, a many-hued and glittering grand spectacle, unfolding in arenic and scenic splendor on triple rings and elevated stages, and around the entire area of the enormous amphitheatrical hippodrome course. Huge sights of joy and victory. At the blare of trumpets and blast of bugles, a tremendous outpouring and outspreading of a vast bannered army and motley throng of mailed marching warriors, gladiators, charioteers, steel-clad knights, royal grandees, mounted cavaliers and ladies, helmeted spearmen, civilians, squires, pontifical high-priests and wandering Jews, actors courting the dramatic muse, Moors and Mamelukes, Bedouins of the desert, outlaws booted and spurred, Grand Turks, nobles, vestals, senators, gray-beards, orators, barbarians, captives, travelers, wayfarers, embassadors, dames of the harem, turbaned Arabs on camels, Nubians bearing gifts, slaves bearing incense, chariots of conquest, huge herds of swaying elephants, prancing war horses, wild beasts, runners, couriers, pages, etc. Magnificent ostentation. The flash of sword and helmet, spear and shield. Garments rich with the dyes of the Indies; cloth of gold and glitter of silver; the peacock pride of princes and the vanity of earth; the pomp of power and purple of authority. The dancing; plumes and clanking steel of chivalry. Flaunting, flashing and flaming costumes; oriental opulent splendor and semi-barbaric grand doings; immense array of flags, banners and devices. Displaying all the pageantry and pride of Rome’s victorious legions, and introducing the unparallelled scenic and spectacular resources of Ringling Brothers’ World’s Greatest Shows,

Display No. 2

Supplementing the Roman Entree, grand mounted knightly combat,

“Hushed is the din of tongues; on gallant steeds,
With milk-white crest, gold spur and light-poised lance,
Four cavaliers prepare for venturous deeds,
And lowly bending to the lists advance;
Rich are their scarfs, their chargers featly prance.“

Display No. 3, Prominent American and Noted European Star Artists

Exhibiting in the rings, upon elevated stages and in mid-air.
Arena No. 1.: Ed. Billings, the high-stepping King of Stilts, in his comical creation, “Little Willie Green,”
Arena No. 2.: Ando Hamakichi, the Japanese Juggling Wonder, in amazing oriental pastimes.
Arena No. 3.: Quaint Japanese contortions, Little Sam
Stage No. 1.: Unique serpentine amazements, living knot-tying and posturing by the human enigma, Moncayo.

Display No. 4

Grand leaping rally and tournament, by the principal athletes of the three circus companies, over pyramids of elephants and camels. Introducing individual styles of twisting and difficult somersaults, remarkable doubles by Mr. William Ashton, and a motley array of gifted clowns in merry and laughable foolery. Terrific principal leap by Dan O’Brien, acknowledged champion leaper of the world, and long distance double somersault artist.

Display No. 5

Arena No. 1.: The Japanese Slide for Life, by the feet on a rope from the dome of the pavilion, Tan.
Arena No. 2.: Mounting the Japanese Ladder of Death, an escalement of glittering razor-edged swords, keen as Damascus blades, Miss Okee
Arena No. 3.: Astonishing pedestal equipoise of a Japanese Double Ladder, surmounted and performed upon by a cunning mite of Oriental humanity, Akimoto and Sam.
Stage No. 1.: Japanese Butterfly Act, Miss Oume.

Display No. 6

Arena No. 1.: Artistic and beautiful principal act by the fashion plate of equestrianism, Miss Blanche Reed.
Arena No. 2.: An interlude of merriment by the funniest fools on earth, Turnour, O’Brien, Sunlin.
Arena No. 3.: Pleasing and wonderful principal act by perfection’s peerless paragon, Miss May Reed.
Stage No. 1.: Three jolly kings of the cap and bells, Natalie, Debonnaire, Goetschius.

Display No. 7

Arena No. 1.: A medley of marvelous acrobatic maneuvers, concluding with a balance Head to Head, Ashton Brothers.
Arena No. 2.: Classical groupings and acrobatic amazements, with Head Balance Hat Spinning finish, Brazil and Alton.
Arena No. 3.: A swift-running series of lightning achievements, concluding with beautiful Head Balance, Killmar and McPhee.
Stage No. 1.: Grand parlor brother act and show of double posturing, concluding with inverted equipoise, as seen in the three arenas, Rooney and Reed.

Display No. 8

Arena No. 1.: The children’s delight. Beautiful Troupe of Imported Trick Ponies, performed by, Charles O’Dell.
Arena No. 2.: Mons. Natalie, the great Grecian Clown, and his comical school of educated pigs, Pedro, Domino, Keno and Cinch.
Arena No. 3.: Two ludicrous Ear Winking Donkeys, known to the world as Peanuts and Pickles, performed by their trainer, Lew Sunlin.
Stage No. 1.: Nonsensical Mardi Gras Figures, masking, Moncayo, Frisco, Belford and Dawson.

Display No. 9

Arena No. 1.: Startling and astounding Scientific Impalement Act, with knives, battle-axes and swords, Sig. Arcari and Sister.
Arena No. 2.: A series of beautiful juggling exercises on a thread of invisible wire, Miss Mollie Regan.
Arena No. 3.: Prodigiously skillful impalement of a living human target, with knives, Roman hatchets and lances, Julian and Villette Tybell.
Stage No. 1.: Wonderful Top Spinning Pastimes, Ando Hamakichi.

Display No. 10

The arenic champion of champions, Mr. Charles W. Fish, recognized in five Continents as The World’s Greatest Living Equestrian. Introducing backward backs, one-foot-landing somersaults, a triple succession of somersaults over banners, and a varied medley of intricate feats performed by himself alone. The attendant clowns, Sunlin, Turnour, Goetschius, O’Brien.

Display No. 11

A hurricane of applause greets Master Johnny Rooney, riding and driving twenty beautiful ponies around the great hippodrome track. Names of ponies: Nugent, Salem, Minnie, Bud, Tom, Jerry, Nellie, Kidney, Frank, Dick, Topsey, Belle, Hazel, Lizzie, Maud, Queen, Rocky, Chub, Spider and Bismarck.

Display No. 12

Arena No. 1.: Wonderful Japanese Posturing Act, Tan and San.
Arena No. 2.: Astonishing shoulder-balanced break-a-way Bambook Ladder, Akimoto and Sam.
Arena No. 3.: Antipodean Block Building Equipose, Toyou Kichi.
Stage No. 1.: Japanese Rice Barrel, Miss O’Kee.

Display No. 13

Arena No. 1.: Beautiful performance with her Schooled Horse, by the queen of the side-saddle, Miss Ida La Rue.
Arena No. 2.: Grand Double Trotting Act, by the favorites of European capitals, the Sisters Reed. A refined, picturesque and perilous performance.
Arena No, 3.: Graceful High School Manege Education, exhibited by the noted horsewoman, Miss Allie Jackson
Stage No. 1.: Merry and Mirthful Clowns.

Display No. 14

Arena No. 1.: Wonderful feats on the Floating Mexican Perch. Signor Frisco
Arena No. 2.: Truly magnificent Perch Act, finished with fearless head balance on the top of the perch, Brazil and Alton.
Arena No. 3.: Fastastic and perilous marvels by Miss Villette Tybell, on a perch pole skillfully held and balanced by Mr. Julian Tybell.
Stage No. 1.: Comical Evolutions on Roller Skates, The Dawson..

Display No. 15

Arena No. 1.: $10,000 Troupe of Full-Blooded Imported Thoroughbreds, displayed by Charles O’Dell. Names of horses: Charlie, Frank, Tom, Buck, Sultan.
Arena No. 2.: Troupe of Trained Dogs, Lew Sunlin.
Arena No. 3.: Clever company of Highly Trained Ponies, “The Children’s Circus,” directed by Joseph Levis. Names of ponies: Nugent, Sailor, Chub, Spider.
Stage No. 1.: Artistic Wire Act, Miss Nettie Carlyn.

Display No. 16

Arena No. 1.: Exhibition of intricate Toss Juggling, Kurtz.
Arena No. 2.: A series of lightning evolutions on Triple Silver Bars, by McPhee and the Ashton Brothers. Clowns, Debonnaire and Killmar.
Arena No. 3.: Marvelous feats of skilled Juggling and Delicate Balancing, Jules Turnour.
Stage No. 1.: Magnificent Olympian Wrestling Exercises, Donovan and White.

Display No. 17

Arena No. 1.: Feats on the Perilous Japanese High Wire, Tan Zabaro.
Arena No. 2.: Mons. Natalie, the Grecian Equilibrist, in feats on a Towering Pyramid of Bottles, Chairs and Tumblers, built aloft by himself.
Arena No. 3.: Achievements on the Lofty Wire, by the wonderful Prince Akimoto.
Stage No. 1.: Miss Oume in Feats of Fantasy.

Display No. 18

Arena No. 1.: The Equilibristic Sailor, Debonnaire, in Amazing Chair Balancing Oddities on the High Trapeze.
Arena No. 2.: Pendulating Bamboo Perch Originalities, Little Sam
Arena No. 3.: Sensational Perilous Mexican Feats on the Lofty Swinging Trapeze, Signor Frisco.
Stage No. 1.: Wonderful Sword Exercises, Signor Arcari.

Display No. 19

All Europe and America’s Greatest Aerial Meteors, the Vernon Brothers, absolute Kings of the Air. Introducing every conceivable style of mid-air pirouettes, somersaults, lion leaps, flights and catches. In conclusion a full double somersault from flying bar to hand clasp, and Mr. Charles Vernon’s fearless dive from the dome of the pavilion, caught and held by Ben Vernon.

Display No. 20

Arena No. 1.: Classical Postures and Double Carrying Feats on the bare backs of two horses, Charles Reed and Daughter May.
Arena No. 2.: Pleasing and Wonderful Jockey Act by Baraboo’s Pride, Mike Rooney.
Arena No. 3.: Artistic and Graceful Carrying Act on a duo of speeding horses, Will Marks and wife.
Stage No. 1.: Grand Carnival of Clowns.

Display No. 21, The Great Roman Hippodrome Races

Illustrating the Sports of the Caesars, Combined with Modern Triumphs of the Turf.

First Event.: Brilliant and Dashing Five-Horse Tandem Hurricane Hurdle Race, five thoroughbreds, twice at break-neck speed around the great hippodrome track, ridden and driven by Charles O’Dell, and leaping hurdles and obstacles as they fly. Names of horses: Rover, Belchazzar, Dynamite, Beazel, Sultan.

Second Event.: Handicap Coursing Contest between the fleetest English Whippet Racing Dogs, displayed by J. H, Levis. A most novel and interesting event.

Third Event.: Gentlemen’s American Jockey Race. Three times around the course. Jockeys, Colors, Horses: John Ingle, Red and Green, Hindoo; Frank Jones, Blue and Orange, Wally; George Williams, Yellow and Pink, Cloud; James Nelson, Green and Lavender, Foley; Henry Clark, Black and White, Firefly.

Fourth Event.: Swaying Ships of the Sahara swiftly sailing around the track. The wild, unique and picturesque Camel Race of the desert. Once around the course.

Fifith Event.: Pony Chariot Race. Once around the track. Charioteers, Horses: John Rooney (Green), Minnie, Bud, Dick and Jerry; Francis Reed (White); Sailor, Nugent, Topsy and Ned.

Sixth Event.: Ladies Flat Race. Twice around the course. Riders, Colors, Horses: Allie Jackson, Pink and Blue, Paducah; Ella Cook, Red and Yellow, Bismarck; Mollie Regan, Green and Orange, Maud H.

Seventh Event.: Children’s Pretty Pony Steeple-chase. Ridden once around the course by chattering monkey jockeys.

Eighth Event.: Ponderous and Awkward Race by Elephants. Once around the track. Riders, Colors, Elephants: F. C. Bradway, “Elephant’s Breath,” Jule; Albert Mann, “Elephants Breath,” Zip; Bert Marshall, “Elephant’s Breath,” Fannie.

Ninth Event.: Comical Wheelbarrow Race.

Tenth Event.: Ludicrous Sack Race.

Eleventh Event.: Thrilling Two-Horse Roman Standing Race. Twice around the track. Riders, Colors, Horses: Chas. O’Dell, Red and White, Rover and Dynamite; J. H. Levis, Blue and White, Dollie and Flora; Mike Rooney, Yellow and Black, Fannie and Lizzie B.

Twelveth Event.: Handicap Race of a Man against a Running Horse. Once around for the man and once and a quarter for the horse. Name of runner, Clate Alexander. Name of horse, Kittie.

Thirteenth Event.: Grand Four-Horse Roman Chariot Race. Twice around the track. Charioteers, Horses: Rhoda Royal (Red), Toots, Dollie, Pollie and Willie; Chas O’Dell (Blue), John, Midget, Mollie and Nellie.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the show is out. We thank you for your very kind attention and very liberal patronage. ALL OVER. All those holding tickets for the Concert will please pass over to the opposite side of the pavilion, and occupy the reserved chairs.”

“ ’Tis pleasant, sure, to see one’s name in print,
A book’s a book, although there’s nothing in ’t.” — Byron.

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A Concise Account of the Haps and Mishaps, Accidents, Incidents, Business, Fun and Doings, Wise and Otherwise

Saturday, April 30th. Baraboo, Wis. Pop. 4,605. St. Paul, 234 miles, Devil’s Lake, 3 miles, Milwaukee, 119 miles, Chicago, 175 miles, New York, 1,088 miles. Fare to Chicago, $5.03. Hotels - Warren, Wisconsin, Urban, Railroad, Pratt, Union, etc. Beautiful, thriving town - “The Gem of Wisconsin.” Water-works, fire department, gas and electric light; 1,050 feet above sea; 250 business firms; over 500 railroad men; big flour mills, foundries and factories; second largest opera house in state; big railroad shops; grand masonic temple in erection; 4 public schools, 12 churches. 2 banks and 2 breweries; also renowned far and wide as the winter headquarters of Ringling Brothers’ World’s Greatest Shows.

“To your tents, O Israel!” cried the ancient Hebrews, and with similar impulse the clans of the Ringling’s blew in on four winds to Baraboo, awaiting the “grand spring opening.” Many of the “old familiar faces,” while many new ones also arrest attention, like a strange face in perdition. Everything, from hoof to helmet, new. Brand new snow-white canvas, new chariots, bright as a gold-piece, and wardrobe new-fangled and spangled. The five Ringlings come up smiling, with that look on the face which sporting men describe as “the air of winners.”

“The elephant now goes round, the band begins to play,
The boys around the monkeys’ cage had better keep away.”

To the tune of Al. Ringling’s whistle, the show runs as smooth as a top. Despite hard rain a heavy crowd attends, and all wish the circus bon voyage, and a happy return in the fall to its countless friends in Baraboo.

May: States traversed — Wisconsin, Illinois, Iowa, Missouri, Kansas and Nebraska.

Sunday, May 1st. The Annual “Moving Day.” With us, every day is “moving day.” Late leaving lot last night. The first day’s capering on the pine-scented saw dust leaves all the actors too stiff to fall down or get up. The sky still over-cast.

“All day the low hung clouds have dropped
Their garnered fullness down.”

Monday, May 2d. Madison, Wis. C. & N. W., 37 miles. Pop. 13,426. Capital Hotel. Barbaric weather, but record-breaking business. Here poor Bob Memhard, our friend of last season, in “breathless darkness and the narrow house,” lies turned to pathetic dust. He was thirty years old, and died at Chelsea. Mass., Feb. 18, 1892. Green be the turf above him.

Tuesday, May 3d. Monroe, Wis. Ills. Cent., 37 miles. Pop. 3,768. Ludlow Hotel. Bottomless roads and juicy mud. No show. The sinking fair ground lot abandoned after pitching tents. Dan O’Brien’s new $5 silk umbrella blown to ribs and ribbons. Grand stand gallery roars as Dan gets soaking wet. Left 9 P. M. Stuck here Friday, May 9th, 1890, leaving Saturday noon.

Wednesday, May 4th. Savanna, Ills. I. C. and C., M. & St. P., 62 miles. Pop. 3,097. Occidental Hotel, run by Mr. Booz, but no “booze” sold. Special train between hotel and lot, two miles apart. Men rained out of work until morning. Left May 5th, afternoon, missing that day’s stand at Maquoketa, Iowa.

Thursday, May 5th. Maquoketa, Iowa. C., M. & St. P., 42 miles. Pop. 3,077. As per item preceding, this town was left out in the cold. We jumped it altogether, with two somersaults. Also missed by Cook and Whitby on account of accident, following July 10.

Friday, May 6th. Anamosa, Iowa. C., M. & St. P., 89 miles from Savanna, 59 miles from Maquoketa. Pop. 2,078. Kinert Hotel and Wallace Restaurant. Clear weather. Elegant business. Hippodrome steed falls dead. “Impalement act” billed “implement act.” Major Winnar, renowned dwarf, visits. After show, Anamosa and Rock City toughs, full of righting whisky, had a grand battle royal. One Irishman got his face pounded off, but denied that he hollered “enough.”

Saturday, May 7th. Sigourney, Iowa. C., M. & St. P., 88 miles. Pop. 1,523. Merchants’ Hotel. First week’s run, 313 miles. One show to banner business. Ruben’s opinion: “The best thing I liked in the hull show was the big tall giant that walked ’round the track between the two comical cusses, in the first piece. No use talking, HE WAS GOOD.”

Sunday, May 8th. A long south-western run to Kansas City. Arrived for late dinner. Rainy evening. Newt. Howard, tuba, closed. Lot 15th and Vine. Old side-whiskers fights us here, and we see many vivid pictures of canvasmen in Columbus clothes discovering America. To-morrow’s parade route over these streets: Fiiteenth, Grand Avenue, Thirteenth, Wyandotte, Fourth, Walnut, Eleventh, Grand Avenue, Thirteenth, Oak, Fifteenth.

Monday, May 9th. Kansas City, Mo. C., M. & St. P. 234 miles. Pop. 132,716. Fifth Avenue Hotel. Triumphal march and heavy hit of Ringling Brothers’ grand parade and pageant, a mighty millionaire eye-feast; in splendor “rich beyond the dreams of avarice.” A winding, dazzling river of silver and gold. An immense cavalcade of red-plumed horses burdened with costly trappings, and caravan of pi incely wealth on heavy rumbling wheels. New chariots, gorgeous with gilded lion and serpent, or carved with dolphins and dragons, and griffins and hippo-griffins. New tableau cars, four squared with Grecian gods and goddesses, or illumined with golden sea-horses, winged leopards, mermaids and fabulous figures. New animal wagons, ornate with designs from the dreams of Hesiod, and carvings grotesque, arabesque and picturesque. Classical figures of triple Graces playing harps and trumpets, and raised designs of silver horses necked with golden manes. Triumphal floats and barges with medallioned mythical faces, and emblazonry of heroic saints, Peruvian sun-gods, centaurs, moon-men, golden calves and Chinese dragon day glories. The giant highway locomotive Hercules; the puffing steam Calliope, and the sweet-tongued Bells of Moscow. The Tally-ho; the Roman teams; the ten-thousand-dollar beauty and Continental Band. Beautiful mounted ladies in gala-day regalia, escorted by knights on mettled steeds, in parrot-colored apparel. Seven wide-open dens of African wild beasts, and “Daniel in the lion’s den” is seen. Huge herds of swaying elephants, desert-born camels, and elfin ponies, followed by clowns, harlequins, buffoons. “Sonorous metals blowing martial sounds” shatter the air with melody. Still on and on it comes. Floods of music; glittering sights of joy. A processional amazement, astounding young-eyed wonder, and walling all the highways with humanity. A mile of gleam, gold, glint and glistening glamor.

Here opposition shakes its’ horns in vain. The Ringlings have out paper enough to bill the walls of China, and, dazzled by the glory of our circus, the folks refuse to “wait for Jumbo’s skeleton.” What time the smiling big parade danced around on its golden slippers, even the yellow dogs of the street sat up on their haunches to drink in its wilderiug beauty. In spite of a rain which drowns the town and turns the show lot into a dismal swamp, the spacious tent becomes a human beehive, packed black with swarming humanity afternoon and night. The enemy outside the breastworks still. We bag big boodle here, and knock out opposition with a blow, like Billy Burke when he knocks the clown elephant down. Kansas City Journal gives a page to the Ringlings. Clipper correspondent says: “ Ringling Brothers gave one of the best circus performances ever seen in this city May 9th, to an immense crowd, who waded through mud, under a constant down-pour of rain, to see the show.”

Tuesday, May 10th. Ottawa, Kan. A., T. & S. Fe, 58 miles. Pop. 6,248. Shaner Hotel. Jap kid says: “Is this the Sheeney hotel?” Dan O’Brien remarks: “The last time I showed on this lot we were carried 18 miles away by a cyclone.” Master Rooney fights Jap boy, Tan. Little Sam interfering, says: “I speak it, you no hittee me, and I, how it was tell you.” Tan grabs a lay-out pin with which to lay out Rooney, but the main-guy stops the fun. The red-paint gang, who missed the train while tasting the “roses and raptures” of Kansas City joy, made parade on the “implement train ”m - not very velvet riding. Diamond Dick visits. Wears good rags, white slouch hat and cream overcoat, Wild Bill hair the length of a lion’s mane, and a flash of white diamonds with glittering frozen fire. Profound impression on Kurtz, who also wears long hair to keep the flies off him when juggling.

Wednesday, May 11th. Osage City, Kan. A., T. & S. Fe, 35 miles. Pop. 3,469. Hotel Everest; beautiful building. Good business; bad wetness. Depot lot. Diamond Dick, who called last night,, was a compeer of that glittering character, the late Dr. J. I. Lighthall, who wore a $2,000 hat, carried a diamond-headed cane, and buttoned his princely clothes with blazing gems. He was known far and wide as “the diamond king,” met an unhappy end, and is buried at San Antonio, Texas.

Thursday, May 12th. Topeka, Kan. A., T. & S. Fe, 34 miles, Kansas City, 67 miles. Pop. 31,007; suburbs, 8,000. Hotel Chesterfield, by Ad. Sells, who cordially greeted, chatting of tan-bark and spangle. Town 821 feet above sea; show lot one foot under sea. Good place for Paul Boyton’s aquatic exhibition, but tough for circus unless we were web-footed. Elephants joyfully trumpet, showering themselves with mud. Incessant rain. No parade. Impossible to show. Money sacks fat as Boss Tweed’s settle all bills in full. At 10 P. M. loaded our mud-frescoed tents. 24,000 sheets of paper out here. Sells Brothers’ wet lot and one show, June 2, ‘91.

Friday, May 13th. Junction City, Kan. U. P., 72 miles. Pop. 4,502. Bartell House. Four miles away, at Manhattan, near Fort Riley, is the U. S. “geographical center.” This is the “storm center,” sure. Rivers spilled over their banks. Good business. Mollie Regan thrown by falling horse - just missing quarter pole.

Saturday, May 14th. Clay Centre, Kan. U. P., 33 miles. Pop. 2,802. Gillett House - landlord’s name, Rube. High lot, a mile out. Heavy business and heavy rain. Second week’s run, 466 miles. Arcari makes betting proposition, and throws five hundred bills on his trunk to back it. The walls of the dressing-room shiver.

Sunday, May 15th. Arrived at Brunswick Hotel, Beloit, about 9 A. M. Landlord says: “I didn’t know, you know, that you were coming.” Late breakfast in sections. Side dining-room door nailed up. Nice porch around hotel, and weather a sky blue and golden dream.

Monday, May 16th. Beloit, Kan. U. P., 123 miles. Pop. 2,455. Magnificent packed and jammed business. Clear till 9 P. M., when a big black storm drowns the dressing-room. All wardrobe in soak. Waded frog ponds to sleepers. Men hurt dropping canvas. Firefly, hippodrome horse, died.

Tuesday, May 17th. Black Tuesday. Due at Washington, Kan., Central Branch Mo. Pac., 78 miles. Thirty miles en route, and one mile east of Concordia, at 2:45 A. M., an appalling crash awoke train section No. 1. In an instant all was excitement and “confusion worse confounded.” Pouring out into the night, our men perceived by the flickering light of lanterns a chaos of wrecked cars, some crushed to utter kindling wood, and others hurled headlong or sidelong into a lake of mad waters that held both sides of the track, and whose under-mining power had wrecked a trestle and train. This lake was full of dead and drowning horses, the latter “dying with harness on,” in a literal sense of the term, and tangled in it most woefully. With humane bravery, our men plunged into the waters and cut harness right and left, or pulled the necks of drowning horses out of the water with halters. As the gray of the morning came on the situation grew worse. Robert O’Donnell, of Gratiot, Wis., was found in a mass of blood-stained wreckage, with a splintered piece of two-by-three scantling driven clear through his head. His brains were strewn in every direction. He was an Odd Fellow, and left his wife and three children some money, having recently sold a farm. His object in circus travel was to locate a new home West. Near by, mid twisted rails and rack and ruin, was the body of Albert Dietzler, aged sixteen, from Freeport, Ills. This poor boy’s head was crushed as if by a sledge hammer; it was nothing but broken skull and oozing brains. Twenty-six magnificent draught horses, heavy Clyde stallions, Normans and Percherons, floated dead in the lake on either side of the track. Other poor brutes had broken legs or ripped bellies, and had to be killed in the head. Many more, in bad condition, filled two livery stables. Half a dozen men were crushed or hurt internally. Two crowded sleepers just escaped destruction, while the engine stood tip-tilted just past the fallen trestle. ’Mid the utter disarray of the wreck stood a white board shaped like a tombstone, bearing a track number, but having monumental significance as it rose over death and suffering. A special train from Atchison came at once, bearing wrecking apparatus, and Assistant-chief R. R. Surgeon Farrar took care of the injured. These four had to go to the Kansas City hospital: William Marshall, Baraboo, Wis., left leg broken, hip dislocated, injured internall and about the head; Thomas McKinney, 325 South street, Chicago, hurt internally, and fearfully bruised about the left arm, head and shoulders: Frank Smith, Reedsburgh, Wis., head and face mashed, and injured about left side and arm; Charles Shay, Ottawa, Canada, mashed about face and chest, and hurt internally. The almost decapitated bodies of O’Donnell and Dietzler were taken to the railroad station, where a coroner’s jury rendered the railroad company culpable, and the track inspector guilty of gross negligence. He had found the culvert and trestle undermined and unsafe, but instead of returning one mile to warn Concordia, went four miles ahead to Rice Station, whence his telegram backward just missed our first section, and just stopped our second section from crashing into our first. When the coroner’s jury dispersed, the dead bodies were decently cared for, and expressed to their saddened homes. Meantime, the suffering victims received sympathetic nursing, and the wives of the various Ringlings showed great womanly kindness in their constant ministrations to the stricken. The next thing in order was horses, and the following hand-bill circulated:

WANTED! 50 - DRAFT HORSES. - 50. Weighing from 1,200 to 1,600 pounds. Will buy from morning of Tuesday, May 17 to evening of Wednesday, May 18 at A. Barcelo’s stable. Will pay what they are worth. RINGLING BROTHERS’ CIRCUS.

A number of first-class horses were bought, and a telegram to John Ringling at Chicago, ordered a carload more. In buying, the capable judgment of Messrs. Royal and Delevan came into important play. Counting horses that died after leaving Concordia, the circus was out about forty head all told. To narrate all the steps by which the show righted itself, would be a story very long drawn out. Though the scenes of this day of suffering made many an eye grow moist, the spirit of the Ringlings was undaunted. They arose to their duties with added vigor, recalling the tale of the fabled wrestler, who gained new strength whenever thrown to earth. They accepted their Kansas misfortunes in the spirit of the Kansas state motto: Ad astra per aspera (“through trials to the stars”).

Wednesday, May 18th. Concordia, Kas. Mo. Pac., 29 miles. Pop. 3,184. Hotels - Exchange and Iowa. Luckily yesterday’s accident was a mile from to-day’s town, instead of far in the country. Because of high hill lot and fearful winds, showed once with side-walls only. Admission 25 cents, a generous discount, people offering 50. Dressing-room top lowered almost to the ground. Between this dilemma and the wind, which blew great guns and knocked a Jap off his roost, we had some rich experience. But the citizens, who have our thanks for much kindness, made just allowance, and were heartily pleased with the show.

Thursday, May 19th. Abilene, Kas. A., T & S. Fe, 55 miles. Pop. 3,547. Continental Hotel. “We heard you were all killed and all the wild animals loose.” Large business. The spectre that made Hamlet’s fright-wig rise here walks his sheeted round, first time. “For this relief much thanks.” Clouds banking up. More sky-water.

Friday, May 20th. Marion, Kas. A., T. & S. Fe, 97 miles. Pop. 2,047. Elgin Hotel, rough stone front. Barrello closed. Maximus porter closed, Harry Edwards supplanting. Good business. Dampness. Many actors buy umbrellas, to “lay up something for a rainy day.” K. C. Journal squib: “This,” remarked the hippopotamus in Ringling Bros. Circus, as the car rolled down in a ditch and burst open the cage, letting him roam around on the Kansas prairie, “is all right for the mermaid, but it’s too damn wet for me.”

Saturday, May 21st. Wichita, Kas. A., T. & S. Fe, 65 miles, Kansas City 227, Topeka 154; six railroads; 22 years old. Pop. 23,853. Third week’s run 369 miles. Doc Miller’s home. Hotel Metropole. Lot, Riverside Park. B. & B. “coming soon” (Sept. 23). Light rain. Twenty Chicago horses arrive, making 38 bought since wreck. Jockey Jones’ head cut. While at show Mayor Carey’s silverware stolen by K. City thieves. Chief Burrows arrested same. Tremendous triumphant business, though Baruum’s flaming posters scorched the bill-boards. Daily Beacon: “The big show took over $10,000 out of Wichita.” Dramatic News: “Crowded tents both performances. Great Show.”

Sunday, May 22d. En route. Flight through the Cherokee strip into Oklahoma. Wild life on the plains. Cowboys with yard-wide sombreros and cartridge belts for hat-bands, raced with the train and galloping fired salutes. Coyotes and prairie dogs abounded. Many bad men from Bitter Creek seen herding countless cattle. A beautiful green prairie starred with flowers. The smoke of Indian camp-fires curled on high, and Chief Hailstones-in-the-stomach, Choctaw-Chickasaw, and other sockless red men of the plains, came down to the train and begged the pale faces for firewater. They also shook hands with our own celebrities, such as Canvasman-with-a-pocket-full-of-snakes, Clown-that-pulls-an-elephant-rouud-by-the-tail, and Little-six-dollars-and-cakes-and-a-piece-of-pie. Fertile section this, where the vines grow so fast they wear out the pumpkins dragging them over the ground.

Mon., May 23d. Oklahoma City, Oklahoma Ter. A., T. & S. Fe, 172 miles, Kansas City 399. Pop. 7,631. In 1890 was 4,151. Commercial Hotel, quick service. New cook house man, from Wichita, loses foot under car wheel. Large business, breathing room only. The five civilized nations sent delegates to visit the five Ringlings, and Row-of-Lodges scanned our row of tents, while Hole-in-the-Day surveyed the hole in the canvas. Side show up-town with “wild man tearing a sailor limb from limb,” etc. An Indian with ears full of paint sells tickets outside and represents wild man inside. Street man with roller machine turns a paper slip to a $5 bill, and some of our boys turn $5 bills into booze. Large tracks of feet are painted all over the wooden sidewalks, all leading to a prominent saloon. Inspired with Oklahoma air, some of the gang are seen surveying these tracks, with a look like that on Robinson Crusoe’s face when staring Friday’s foot-step in the sand.

Tues., May 24th. Guthrie, Capital Oklahoma Ter. A., T. & S. Fe, 31 miles, Kansas City 368. Kansas 86 1/2. Pop. 9,000 estimated; 2,728 census of 1890. Palace Hotel. On night run out, intoxicated first section fireman, employed by the Santa Fe company, in advancing from third car back to his locomotive, fell between the wheels and was instantly killed. Both show trains passed over him, and he was dismembered of every limb and crushed into a shapeless mass. Identified by his clothing. Jerry Ward bitten badly by hyena. It took four men to hold him in his spasms of nervous agony. Recovered, with crippled hand. Enormous crowds attend, everybody and his wife. Governor Seay visits, munching peanuts. “If the Ringling Brothers are not satisfied with their business in this city, then they must want the earth.” - Daily News.

Wednesday, May 25th. Arkansas City, Kas. A., T. & S. Fe, 90 miles Pop. 8,347. State line 3 1/2 miles. Hotel Gladstone, where two men killed each other following June 14. Grand business. Second salary day. Lew Sunlin’s new cinnamon bear, tied in dressing-room, upsets buckets and stands on his head in the water barrel. Also makes a lion-leap at Sunlin, intent to chew him up and spit him out. (Laughter.) Lew finally pacifies him, and jumps him up under a flat car cage, “thus showing man’s power over the brute creation.” Dr. Palace-car Hunter, “The World’s Benefactor,” Mons. Niblo and Chief Many-feathers visit.

Thursday, May 26th. Wellington, Kas. A., T. & S. Fe, 36 miles. Pop. 4,391. Rock Island Restaurant. Fine weather. Big booming business. Eccentric darkey entertains Fred Madison. Considers Dan Rice the smartest man ever lived. Tells how to bake a possum. First you catch it; corn-fed variety best. When the dogs bark you say “hush.” When its baked, and the neighbors knock, you say “Nobody at home.”

Note. May 27th, one day after leaving Wellington, at 9 o’clock in the evening it was struck by a fearful cyclone, which swept from the face of the earth the puny works of man, and crushed out human lives in the twinkling of an eye. This whirling monster of the air wrecked property valued at $500,000, killed 10 people outright and injured 22 fatally, while fully 100 more were maimed or injured badly. Fire and lightning came to add to their terrors; and two sisters, one a bride, were burned to death. The husband, out of his mind, tried to leap into the flames. At the Phillips Hotel, where a ball was progrossing, 6 people were killed by falling walls. The cyclone played many wonderful freaks. It stood the Lutheran Church on its head, lifted a stove in a school-house clear up to its second story, carried Rock Island freight cars 200 feet, landed a four-wheeled vehicle in the middle of a graveyard, lifted a horse to the top of a two-story house, uprooted trees, turned buildings “right about face,” and crushed heavy plate-glass windows. Then, with a kindness like that which mad elephants show to children, it lifted the little child of Barber Bowers from its cradle, carried it two blocks, and laid it down uninjured on the greensward of a well-kept lawn. Fifteen surgeons hurried from Wichita on a special train, and tenderly cared for the dying and suffering victims. This twisting electrical terror struck the town where our show tents stood, and ran parallel to the Kansas Southern track. Only a providential day stood between us and utter destruction, and for missing this great calamity our thanks are rendered up to Him above, who “rides the whirlwind and directs the storm.”

Friday, May 27th. Kingman, Kas. A., T. & S. Fe, 78 miles. Pop. 2,390. Brunswick Hotel. Good business, followed by rain. Timothy Hay’s opinion : “I liked the knowing pigs and the elephant charmer, and the fire horse that jumped through the hoop. A good thing I liked was the pole-raising, and the little man that stood on his head on the pole and kicked the top of the canvas. A good thing they didn’t have was the man that broke a rock on his stomach.”

Saturday, May 28th. McPherson, Kas. H. & S. and C., R. I. & P., 59 miles Pop. 3,172. Merchants’ Hotel. Fourth week’s run 466 miles, exactly the same as week ending May 14. Breezy day. Nice business. “From grocer-ee to grocer-i” we chase for Sunday lunches. Lew Sunlin buys a coyote with teeth as sharp as Sharp’s needles. Debonnaire sings: “O! bury me not on the lone prairie, Where the wild ki-yoots will howl over my grave.”

Sunday, May 29th. En route. A long but pleasant ride to Northern Kansas, for many miles trailing the banks of the River Kaw. We take a glance at the Ringling Brothers in their new private car “Caledonia,” a rolling palace of luxury and a garden of delight. How happy they look caged up with their beautiful wives, wading in carpets up to their knees, and drinking out of gold and silver goblets. Also eating chicken, etc.

Monday, May 30th. Holton, Kas. C., R. I. & P., 158 miles. Pop. 2,727. City Hotel, very nice. Fine business. Steve Scaggs, holding a “box seat,” falls through it to the pavement. Fronting hotel, West India Museum, combined with five-cent alligator show. “They’re alive, alive, and ready to jump out of the wagon.” Five-a-glass man sells lemonade red enough to dye your tights. Heavy night rain; one show. At a K. P. meeting some of the boys sup too much flavoring extract.

Tuesday, May 31st. Pawnee, Neb. C., R. I. & P., 71 miles. Pop. 1,550. Exchange Hotel. Had a one-lunged engine that frequently stopped to take breath, or went ahead to give first section an elephant push up-hill. Cow-catcher needed on rear of the train, so a vicious cow couldn’t walk on and bite the passengers. Arrived 12 M. Hard rain; swamped lot. Show postponed till October 7th. Also missed by Sells Brothers, June 8, 1891. Month’s run 1,843 miles.

June: State traversed - Nebraska, South Dakota, North Dakota, Minnesota and Wisconsin.

Wednesday, June 1st. Fairbury, Neb. C. R. I. & P., 64 miles. Pop. 2,680. Commercial Hotel, near train. Clate Alexander, who blows sugared sounds from a cornet, once clerked two years in this house. Packed business. Dan O’Brien 34 years old to-day, and says he has been an Irishman ever since he was born. Delevan jokes about age, and says Dan has wrinkles enough in the back of his neck to make tracks for the stock yards in Chicago. Poleman Phillips breaks his leg under ticket wagon as it comes down the run from the train. Uptown Ferreri’s white rat show performs to big applause and cries of “rats.”

Thursday, June 2d. Hastings, Neb. St. J. & G. I., 74 miles. Pop. 13,584. Bostwick Hotel, superb. Third “wages day.” Clearing sky, with light clouds as blue as cigar smoke. Canvasmen raise $180 to send crippled Phillips to hospital, to which noble figure the dressing-room adds a handsome sum. Ando and Oume, two very nice Japanese, bid us good-bye. Big “down-in-front” house, and the sweet chink of counted money heard all day in the ticket wagon.

Friday, June 3d. York, Neb. St. J. &. G. I., 66 miles. Pop. 3,405. La Grand Hotel. Madame Sunlin’s beautiful manege horse Brilliant died in the cars last night. Race between Clate Alexander and Bailey Dawson, otherwise known as Steve Scaggs; they ran as close and pretty as two squirrels in a rolling cage, but Scaggs, at the final crisis, stuck out his tongue and won. It took a larger belly-band than usual to go around Steve’s pocket-book to-night.

Saturday, June 4th. Norfolk, Neb. U. P., 115 miles. Pop. 34,871. Hotels - Reno and Pacific. Fifth week’s run, 548 miles. Winter quarters Hurlburt & Leftwich Show (100 foot top, 40 foot middles). Cook & Whitby just here and B & B “coming soon” (Sept. 12). Despite many cuts of the John boats approaching America, and Humpty Dumpty among the Indians, the tents were packed. Sky a robin’s egg blue, and the weather clerk has favored us ever since Pawnee, May 30. Rubens’s opinion, expressed by James Whitcomb Riley:

“ Tha’s been a heap o’ rain, but the sun’s out to-day,
And the clouds of the wet spell is all cleared away;
And the grass is all the greener, and the woods is greener still;
It may rain again to-morrow, but I hardly think it will.”

Sunday, June 5th. En Route. At Sioux City saw the handsome white train of Cook & Whitby’s Circus, which pulled in just as we pulled out. We had only time to say “how-de.” Next month this train will have two bad smash-ups. The first will be at Richland Centre, Wis., July 7th, derailing several cars. The second will happen next day, July 8th, going twenty miles an hour and six miles from McGregor, Iowa, when three stock cars will be ditched, twenty-five horses killed and two more have to be shot; the Circassian Prince will have his leg broken; the show will miss Prairie Du Chien, Wis., and Maquoketa, Iowa. In a car containing fourteen horses and fifteen colored musicians, two men will be hurt and all the horses killed outright. We extend our sympathy, having been there ourselves.

Monday, June 6th. Sioux Falls, S. Dak. C. M. & St. P., 167 miles. Pop. 10,177. Hotels - Merchants and Commercial. The divorce city. Mexican Red closed and Nelson, living skeleton and general genius, “joined out.” The blue poles pointed up to a blue sky, and the people came in columns. Argus Leader on Show: “In many respects it can give points to Barnum and Forepaugh. It is big, it is new, it is groomed, it has go.”

Tuesday, June 7th. Yankton, S. Dak. C. M. & St. P., 110 miles. On Missouri River. Pop. 3,670. Once capital of Dakota. Pierce House, simply magnificent with its rough stone front and new furniture, but an hour slow. Head waitress says: “You all come hither and thither and thither and hither, and it’s very hard to wait on you all at once.” Grand audience, thick as hops. One hundred Indians Sautee Agency visit.

Wednesday, June 8th. Mitchell, S. Oak. C. M. & St. P., 77 miles. Pop. 2,217. Mitchell House. Banner business. Little Jap fell. John Ringling informs the landlord how “That all-softening, overpowering knell, The tocsin of the soul, the dinner bell,” is unnecessary. “Just lift your finger,” says John, “and they’ll come fast enough.”

Thursday, June 9th. Madison, S. Dak. C. M. & St. P., 88 miles. Pop. 1,736. Hotels - Madison and Lake Park. The circulating medium circulates, fourth time. Astonishing business. Audience 2,500 more than the county population. On night run out, cage blown off near Iroquois. Australian kangaroo escapes, wildly hop-step-jumping over the sea of plains. William Morton, Arkansas boy giant, is “going back to Arkansaw tomorrow.” Canvasman gets a mile ride on a rail. More fun than an armfull of monkeys.

Friday, June l0th. Huron, S. Dak. C. M. & St. P. and C. & N. W., 71 miles. Pop. 3,038. Dakota House. Beautiful business. Kangaroo captured; finders rewarded; fun. The five-ton band wagon mired hub deep, but the “big leather beast” got into the push, and it moved when behind it, as Milton says: “Behemoth, the biggest born, of earth, upheaved His vastness.”

Saturday, June 11th, Brookings, S. Dak. C. & N. W., 72 miles. Pop. 1,518. Hotels - Jourden and Brookings. Sixth week’s run 585 miles. Tybell gave his wife a solid gold watch of pretty enameled design. Large business. Man came 100 miles to see show.

Monday, June 13th. Watertown, S. Dak. C. & N. W., 48 miles. Pop. 8,755. Massasoit House and Kemp Avenue Restaurant. A-1 business. Gang fished. Three horses and kangaroo die. Harry Moran visits; also Healy-Bigelow and Pierce - Columbus Co.’s. Blanche Reed having measles, Mike Rooney substitutes. With curly wig and cheeks like two blush roses; with corset upside down and dainty dress of taffy candy pink, Mike looked “too sweet for anything.” Made a hit with his bow. Did splendid.

Tuesday, June 14th. Aberdeen, S. Dak. C. & N. W., 113 miles. Pop. 3,182. Keunard Hotel. Mr. Reed “blew the train” last night. Mrs. Tybell being sick, Mrs. O’Brien stands for impalement act. One show as advertised. Left 9 P. M. Superb business.

Wednesday, June 15th. Fargo, N. Dak. C. & N. W. and N. Pac., 162 miles. St. Paul, 251 miles. Pop. 5,664. Elliott Hotel. Dude Goetschius sings: “ I’ve been out East, I’ve been out West, I’ve been as far as Fargo, But a divil such a town I never saw as the city of Chi-car-go.” John Robinson’s scare-heads up. His agents visit. Triumphant magnificent business. Lemonade vender yells, “Don’t let your ladies go home dry.” O’Brien sings: “With all her troubles and aches and pains, I love her still.”

Thursday, June 16th. Crookston, Minn. N. Pac., 94 miles. Pop. 3,457. Commercial Hotel. Fifth ghost walk. Hill lot. Every seat filled. Man shows us a cage of horned hoot owls. One of our foreign artists, a little too full of Keeley cure, peeps in the cage and asks if they are eagles.

Friday, June 17th. Grafton, N. Dak. N. Pac. 77 miles. Manitoba 80 miles. Pop. 1,594. Oriental Hotel. Charles W. Fish, the world’s champion rider, joins. He is surnamed “The Royal Equestrian,” having appeared by special command before Her Majesty Queen Victoria, at Windsor Castle, February 26, 1886. Surpassing business, crowded to hippodrome track. New kangaroo gives birth to a cunning baby one hour after receipt, squaring for kangaroo lost. Side-show down town has “Alice, the woolly girl,” excelsior “Jo Jo ” freak.

Saturday, June 18th. Grand Forks, N. Dak. N. Pac., 50 miles. Pop. 4,979. Griggs House. Seventh week’s run, 544 miles. Distant lot. Town well billed. Big Jumbo house. Daily Herald on Charles Ringling: “The same high bearing and cultured manners characterize him that have made his brothers the favorites with the people ever since their history in the show business.”

Sunday, June 19th. En route. Tiresome run. O’Brien’s chop-house, the Japanese restaurant. Lew Sunlin’s short order, Natalie’s Arabian coffee joint and Moncayo’s speak-easy at “No. 4 Second Floor,” all did a rushing business. Madison loses a hard boiled derby hat, and little Jap “me too.” Fish went ahead on passenger. At 3 P. M. reached “the Sunday place,” as Japanese Sammy calls it.

Monday, June 20th. Little Falls, Minn. N. Pac., 212 miles. Pop. 2,354. Imperial Hotel, by mistake; then Palace. The Dawsons retire and Van, ventriloquist, joins. Great business. Third ring added. “The smart man who sees at a glance all things, Gets left by the circus that has three rings.” Al Ringling enjoys the Robinson show at La Crosse. Orrin Hollis called yesterday, and Johnny Robinson, Gill Robinson and wife and James DeMott visit to-day. Hot race by O’Dell and Royal; the chariot hubs on fire. After show the O’Dell Billings-Ashton gang of old Cincinnati friends sees the pleasant Robinson party off. At 3 A. M. their train passes ours, and Gill Robinson’s lantern lights the new pictures on the sides of the cars, a splendid art gallery showing the lion, tiger, willipus wallipus, wonderoo, snaggle-tooth and ring-tailed giasticutis. Also depicting the famous monkey that married the baboon’s sister, and showing the Robinson foreign agent lost in the woods “nigh unto the mountains of Hepsedam, where the lion roareth, and the whangdoodle mourneth for her first-born.”

Tuesday, June 21st. Sauk Centre, Minn. N. Pac. , 38 miles. Pop. 1,695. Byron refers, speaking of days, to “The longest, even the twenty-first of June.” Sun rises 4:25, sets 7:37; day 15 hours, 12 minutes. Sauk Centre House, with sign, “Headquarters Ringling Brothers’ World’s Greatest Shows.” Fine dinner, rich velvet cream in coffee and fifteen kinds of pie. Landlord’s receipts $500. Splendid business. Baby kangaroo dies. Dude Goetschius, “the glass of fashion and the mould of form,” jumps over elephant babe, “the walking mountain.”

Wednesday, June 22d. Morris, Minn. N. Pac., 50 miles. Pop. 1,266. Metropolitan Hotel. Fine business. New spring board. Natalie’s pig rolls in red paint. Debonnaire sings an old timer - one verse:

“There was a chap from New Orleans, Big Ruben was his name,
He went out West; on a sardine-box he opened up his game,
He played so long, he played so strong, a million dollars he got in line,
But he fell in a hole, and he lost his soul, in the days of ’49;
The days of old, the days of gold, the days of ’49.”

Thursday, June 23d. Litchfleld, Minn. Gt. Nor., 80 miles. Pop. 1,899. Band to Lake Ripley House and performers to the Park, a no mucho bueno restaurant, though the pepper and salt were as good as you get anywhere. Sixth salary day. Walter L. Main visits, and is pleased to find a long canvas passageway erected for his entry, as shown by the sign, “MAIN ENTRANCE.” Heavy business.

Friday, June 24th. Marshall, Minn. Gt. Nor., 88 miles. Pop. 1,203. Atlantic Hotel. Splendid business. Manager Wallace, Band-master Goetz, and forty more from Cook & Whitby’s Circus, showing at Red Wing, come eighteen miles to visit the big show.

Saturday, June 25th. Willmar, Minn. Gt. Nor., 62 miles. Pop. 1,805. Merchants’ Hotel. Eighth week’s run, 530 miles. Big business. False Hey Rube. Our good friend Natalie is taking the Keeley cure, and will drink no more of red ruin, white wine and blue damnation:

“No more he’ll come home with his eye looking queer,
And his stomach distended with gallons of beer;
No more tread his room with a tangle-foot walk,
While he winds up the lamp and blows out the clock.”

Monday, June 27th. Duluth, Minn. Gt. Nor., 222. Named after Sieur Du Luth, early French explorer. Pop. 33,115, suburbs 8,000. St. Louis Hotel, superb. Fred Schaffer, alto, closed. Five mile parade. Runaway hurts baby; jockey thrown and sack racer hurt. New animal man, Ed. Reed, at a lady’s request to stir up the wild animals, incautiously reached in a lion’s den about feeding time. With lightning move the lion clawed his arm, and bared it to the bone with eager teeth. Despite sharp irons, the blood-maddened beast retained his hold, and Reed had to be torn away by main force. He fainted with pain. Removed to St. Mary’s Hospital, and arm amputated at shoulder. The king of brutes became roaring wild, trying to break his cage. Of a truth those scriptural times have not come when the lion lies down with the lamb, and “shall eat straw like an ox.” Magnificent business. Clipper correspondent: “Took the town by storm, their tent being packed.” Dramatic News: “ Ringling Brothers’ Show, 27th, had fully 10,000 people at afternoon and over 10,000 at evening performance. It was pronounced by all to be the best exhibit ever given in Duluth of the kind.”

Tuesday, June 28th. West Superior, Wis. Gt. Nor., 3 miles. Commercial Hotel. Pop. 9,000, East Superior 4,000, other divisions 2,000, total 15,000. Makes whale-back steamers; 2,100 iron and steel workers. Press compliments Sauthoff. Rev. C. S. Starkweather and twenty-one choir boys visit. Little girl ran over by buggy at grounds. Will recover. “Cincinnati Dutch,” so called, pinched between pole and wardrobe wagons. Badly bruised and sent to Ashland hospital. Phenomenal side show business. Four crooks arrested. La Belle and Webster works, South Superior, close to attend. Superior Leader: “One of the proprietors told Mayor Scott that there were 10,000 people at the afternoon and 9,000 at the evening performance.”

Wednesday. June 29th. Ashland, Wis. N P., 68 miles. Pop. 9,956. Million-dollar ore docks. Excellent hotels- Colby and Commercial. Advertising Sioux Indian bothers parade. Dan O’Brien discovers him “Irish as Paddy’s pig.” Horse scared at elephant upsets and leaps baby carriage. The precious baby unhurt, but its mother, Mrs. Martin Fox, fell bruised about head and hip. The gallant horse owner, Joe McDonald of Bayfleld, kindly pressed in her hands a $20 bill. Three pickpockets jailed. A Mrs. Burke lost pocket-book with $400-mortgage, $100-check, two $50-checks, one check $15 and $10 cash=$625. Made a roar, but found it on counter where she had been trading. Grand business.

Thursday, June 30th. Rhinelander, Wis. M. L. S. & W., 111 miles. Pop. 2,658. Fuller Hotel. Lumber town; eight saw mills. Arrived 9 A. M. One o’clock parade; three o’clock show. Realistic fake elephant follows parade. Lot thick with winter green, blue flags and ripe wild strawberries. Seventh tip of filthy lucre. Crack business. Annex fourteen shows. Month’s run 2,314 miles, from Baraboo 4,157 miles. Landlord on dinner push, “You come from here and there and all over and you come all in a heap.”

July, States traversed - Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and Iowa.

Friday, July 1st. Antigo, Wis. M., L. S. & W., 46 miles. Pop. 4,424. Commercial Hotel. Slop-hole grounds. Hippodrome track a swamp, and two wells of water irrigate middle ring. Little Jap does a Willie Green stilt act. Fun. Three pickpockets jailed, and left singing that plaintive song: “Turnkey, sweet turnkey, set the beautiful gates ajar.”

Saturday, July 2d. Shawano, Wis. M., L. S. & W., 65 miles. Pop. 1,505. Murdock Hotel. Ninth week’s run 515 miles. New blacksmith tossed in tarpaulin. Gusty storm tears a sky-light in canvas. Cut rubber coat parade; no mounted people. Tents jam-full. Billings howls for a stake-puller to yank his stilts out of the mud. Dressing-room soaked, but jolly. Debonnaire sings: “ Then he fell upon his knees and delivered up the keys To Frank and Jesse James.”

Sunday, July 3d. In turning a cage when loading last night at Shawano, James Wells, porter of car number 32, had a wet-weather slip and fell off the train, breaking his arm. The poor fellow has our sympathy and will be sent to-morrow to the Catholic hospital at Ashland, Wis. To-day Charlie Miller rejoices in a visit from his handsome wife and baby. Midnight ushers in the day of glory. Lizzie’s Willie blows the photograph money, and fast and furious fun takes the swelling out of our pocket-bopks. Fire-crackers shoot by the bunch, and everyone fully realizes that the days in a year are 365 1/4, of which the “fourth” is “the Fourth of July.” Going to sleeper, Sauthoff trips on a cage block, falling head first from train. Saved by a sand bank.

Monday, July 4th. Wausau, Wis. M., L. S. & W., 69 miles. Pop. 9,253. Hotels - Winkley and Bellis. County, fifty saw-mills. Gold mine on city border. Billings closed, with everyone’s kind wishes. To-day we celebrate. Big top, side show and horse tents flagged in extravagant style; reserved seats bannered and decorated; Vernon Brothers aerial rigging wrapped red, white and blue. Will Marks and wife ride their graceful act in costumes of national colors, and parade is a mile of star-spangled streamers and flags. Prof. Weldon’s elegant band plays a beautiful medley of patriotic airs. Tremendous business; crowded to the hippodrome ropes. At night grand spread-eagle fireworks. One Jap kid scared by the pin-wheel that carries a Hey Rube whistle, while another finds a Roman candle “too much rain in the face,” and drops it, scattering crowd. Big bonfires built, and a century’s worth of pyrotechnics fired, whose constant sheaves of golden rain kept up a quiet flirtation with the stars.

Tuesday, July 5th. Marshfleld, Wis. M., L. S. & W., 42 miles. Pop. 3,450. Thomas House. Fine business, but a frog pond lot, veiled with deceitful grass. Elephants feet tramp post-holes in the track. Great Ceasar’s chariot stuck. Riding acts cut afternoon; hippodrome cut night. Canvasman’s remark: “The duck that got this lot must have got it sitting on a chair in the hotel.” At night slight fight, and this dramatic speech: “I won’t live on the same world with him. He’s got to get off the earth.”

Wednesday, July 6th. Stevens Point, Wis. Wis. Cen., 31 miles. Pop. 7,896. Lumber town. Jacobs House. Lot twelve blocks out Main street. Hot weather, and our faces leak. Long parade through a street fenced in with pretty girls, and tent well filled with “lots of peep,” as friend Arcari says for “lots of people.”

Thursday, July 7th. Waupaca, Wis. Wis. Cen., 29 miles. Pop. 2,127. Connected twin hotels, Scoville and De Voin. Long grand army tables, with oranges stacked like cannon balls. Waupaca River back of lot. Chain of 8 lakes 2 1/2 miles out. Beautiful mill fall en route to lot; there was a dam by the mill site, but there wasn’t any mill by a d--n sight. Excellent business. Eighth prize package day. Reuben’s remark, looking in zebra cage: “What kind of an animal do you call that - a sea horse?”

Friday, July 8th. Neenah, Wis. Wis. Cen., 34 miles, at junction Fox River and Lake Winnebago. Show grounds on island. Porter’s call 6:30. Russel. House. Pop. 5,803. Depot mile north at Menasha. Pop. 4,581. Twin city, total 9,664. At Oshkosh, 13 miles, Barnum, August 12. Many factories, and a red-headed girl for every white horse in sight. Big business; night house best. Tybell deceives with taffy, which proves a chunk of decayed white wood wrapped up in tissue paper. When his ladder act comes, little Sam, asleep on his trunk, lies dreaming of his Oriential home beyond the setting sun. “That will cost you ten.” Sam’s eyes pop out of his head. He makes for the ring like a streak of greased lightning, but guesses the old man’s fine is “only a fool joke.”

Saturday, July 9th. Chilton, Wis. C., M. & St. P., 23 miles, across bay from Neenah. German town. Pop. 1,424. Hotels - Central and Chilton. Tenth week’s run 228 miles. Business fair. Principal industry, cheese manufacture. Tell Billings. On parade O’Dell and O’Brien saw three pickpockets “get their hands in.” All arrested, and left in that iron-bound house where the sign “shut the door” is needless.

Sunday, July 10th. Jules Turnour, on entering his adopted State of Michigan, smiles like a man with a basket of pups. Arrived 10 A. M. Arcari kicks at the Salvation army for stealing his tamborine act. Dan O’Brien espies a “burglar bold” in the darksome gloom of a scuttle over his room. The jolly burglar melts in thin air or rides away on a broom-stick, but a brave pursuer falls through the ceiling, spoiling $15 worth of plastering. Excitement, and much button-bursting comedy. Our Knights of Pythias thank the local lodge for a fine banquet tendered in the evening.

Monday, July 11th. Iron Mountain, Mich. C., M. & St. P., 129 miles. Pop. 8,599. Felch Hotel. Nice business; splendid reserved seat sale. Harry Howell, alto, joins. Gang swims in lake. Mose Deeming, intoxicated citizen, knocked down by switch engine and badly cut about head and face. Some canvasmen plant a beer keg on a stump in a lonely hollow and drain it to the dregs. Debonnaire fools with a snake. It bites him, being that scriptural kind that “heeds not the voice of the charmer, charm he never so wisely.” Deb. still lives by bull-headed luck, as a bull-head snake did the deed.

Tuesday, July 12th. Escanaba, Mich. C. & N. W., 52 miles. Pop. 6,808. On a point of land between Green Bay and Little Bay de Noquet. Oliver House. Largest iron docks in the world, 95,000 tons capacity, requiring over 4,000 cars and 100 locomotives. Sandy lot, long ways out. Parade caught in rain and hunts a livery stable. Large attendance. Two centre poles broken. Detective C. F. Ryan, of the world famous Pinkerton Detective Agency, joins here.

Wednesday, July 13th. Menominee, Mich. C. & N. W., 64 miles. On west shore of Green Bay and mouth of Menominee River. Pop. 10,630. Over river, Marinette, Wis., 11,533. Twin city total 22,153. Richard House. Next door P. O. and “Blind Man’s Cigar Stand.” Natalie overjoyed to find the lost silver collar worn by his learned hog, a beautiful present from friends in Salt Lake City. Street car to ground's, mile out. Dramatic News: “Crowded tents. The circus made a most favorable impression.”

Thursday, July 14th. Green Bay, Wis. C. & N. W., 55 miles. At the foot of Green Bay and confluence Fox and East Rivers. Oldest town in state, settled 1668 by French missionaries and traders. Pop. 9,069. Across Fox River, Fort Howard, pop. 4,754. Twin city, total 13,823. Cook’s Hotel. Nice boat direct to lot. May Reed fell; not badly hurt. Toyo cuts head on trunk. Abandoned bridge near lot turns parade. Tip-top business. Bad runaway in morning.

Friday, July 15th. Berlin, Wis. C. & N. W. and C., M. & St. P., 95 miles. Great cranberry shipping point. Pop. 4,007. City Hotel. Arrived 10:40 A. M. One engine. Engineer said: “We will play crack-the-whip with you after we get started.” Train stalled, however, on the steep grade between Fond du Lac and Ripon, necessitating a transfer of cars. Charles Ringling visits, and says our Milwaukee billing is 3,100 sheets ahead of the opposition. Old Money Bags calls, ninth time. Bum Barnum bills circulate, threshing old straw, and full of lies, gilt ginger bread and cage-worn ideas. Big business just the same.

Saturday, July 16th. Beaver Dam, Wis. C., M. & St. P., 54 miles. Pop. 4,307. St. Cloud Hotel and Milwaukee House. Fine day and business. Eleventh week’s run 449 miles. In unloading Frank Tuttle, a trainman, was run over by the big tiger den. One wheel passed over his jaw and another over his breast, crushing him terribly. Blood ran from his mouth, ears and nose, and formed in a pool around him. “Good-bye, boys, I am dying,” he said. That night he passed over the dark river which all must cross in time. His brother, summoned from Oshkosh by a telegram, took the body home.

Sunday, July 17th. Reached Milwaukee early. Mrs. Levis joins, and a son of Andy Gaffney greets us on arrival. Quite a showman’s convention here. Around the hotel corridors can be seen many men well known in circus annals: Louis E. Cooke, W. E. Franklin, and Press Agent Frank L. Perley head a large Barnum contingent; while Alf. T. Ringling, John Ringling, Charles Ringling, W. D. Coxey, Charles Ellis, and others, lead the Ringling warriors on to victory. The triumphant fight of our billposters here, assisted by the opposition’s unwise legal action, has given us tremendous advertisement. Yesterday’s Journal has a cartoon on the circus war, showing Press Agent Alf. T. Ringling on top of the Eiffel Tower, while capable Press Agent Perley soars in a balloon. As balloons are upheld by nothing but gas. Alf’s position seems a trifle best. To-morrow 8 o’clock parade over Third, Walnut, Twelfth, Prairie, Fifteenth, Grand Avenue, West Water, Clybourne, East Water, Buffalo, Broadway, Wisconsin, East Water, Juneau, Third, and to lot Third and Clark.

Monday, July 18th. Milwaukee, Wis. C. M. & St. P., 65 miles. Pop. 204,468. Fine hotels - Kirby and Pabst. We had trouble here with the “Big City Show,” not Cleveland’s, but one run by B. & B., which might mean Beach & Bowers, but don’t. Here Mr. James A. Bailey, who wants all the earth and a slice of the moon as well, and who thinks all the other showmen must sneeze when he takes snuff, put on his war plumes and tried to “cut a wide swath ” in our very prosperous business. “As vinegar to the teeth, and as smoke to the eyes,” so is the glory of Ringling Brothers to this would-be monopolist. When he woke one morning at five o’clock and found the Ringlings famous, his jealous heart fermented like a yeast-pot. Perceiving they were flying with the geese and running with the wind, he dashed in their smiling faces the cigarettes of his fury. Aspiring to rule the roost and be the king toad on the toad-stool, in the suburbs of his brain there lurked the thought, “I will make crushed violets out of the famous five.” With a bravery that would scalp a cigar store Indian, he sneaked on the Baraboo foe. Like Don Quixote fighting the wind-mill, he got slapped and banged pretty hard. It would make a cow laugh till her horns fell off to see how bad he got left. With chilled-steel gall and icy nerve, and the cold, hard cheek of a marble mule, the Baraum lah-de-dah brigade swept down upon our sheep-fold and slipped the dogs of war. They expected to wipe up the earth with the gentle showmen of Baraboo. But the Ringling Brothers, mild as cooing doves in times of piping peace, could now be seen where the battle smoke was thickest, with a comb in each hand combing cannon balls out of their hair. Wearing no breast-plate but a heart undaunted, they sailed into the whiskers of the foe. Every stroke of the opposition was met with crushing blow or knightly parry, and the key-note of their feelings was the old Shakespearian saw: “Lay on, Macduff, And damn’d be him that first cries ‘Hold! enough!’”

Never so merry a circus war since the days of the whitewashed elephant and the ten-thousand-dollar girl. Here Greek met Greek, and foemen worthy of each other’s steel had war to the knife, and the knife to the hilt, nor raised a flag of truce. Milwaukee was turned to a rosy picture gallery, for the knights of the ladder and bucket made the dead walls alive and pasted the town red. Every available awning, street car, dry-goods box and loafer’s lounging place was plastered, re-plastered and shin-plastered with eloquent red, blue and green. In addition the press was patronized very extensively, and the many slurs of a nil admirari nature were countered most effectively by Alf. T. Ringling and Coxey. As to wily John Ringling and Charles Ringling, they wore on their faces “a smile that was child-like and bland,” and a general air which showed they were up to mischief.

“ The horrible rumble and grumble and roar, Telling the battle was on once more,” awoke the folks of Milwaukee. Ringling stock was sky-high. It was evident from the very first that Bailey must play the dancing bear, and then pay the piper and fiddler. It was plain to see he was getting the steam taken out of him, and, his agents refusing to throw up the sponge, we awaited the knock-out blow. It came. When the smoke of battle cleared away, the Ringling quintette, with their legs neatly crossed, all sat on a beautiful rainbow, and either end of the rainbow led down to pots of gold. But the Barnum foe, with crape on their sleeves, were seen encamped on the banks of Weeping Water, with their harps of triumph hung on the willows of woe.

Our victory was something overwhelming. When the great parade trailed down the streets, giving back to the sun its radiance, like a herd of stampeded buffaloes the crowd was seen moving one way. So jammed were the street-cars that many good people hung on by their teeth and toe-nails. At the canvas the surging human tide poured in without cessation, filling the hundreds of extra seats clear down to the guard ropes that bound the great hippodrome track. Even then the long procession still kept winding in, and to seat the crowd was an utter impossibility. But “at night, at night,” as the serio-comics sing, the house was a corker from Cork. Otto Ringling sat in the ticket wagon with dollars up to his knees, and rolls of bills on either side big enough to choke an elephant. Inside Al Ringling hustled up the ushers, and tried in vain to pack away the sea of human beings. The people swarmed to the spacious tent like ants around a sugar bowl, and the seats were black with acres of humanity. Two hundred uniformed members of Tripoli Temple, Ancient Arabic Order Nobles of the Mystic Shrine, attended the show in a uniformed body, preceded by jubilant trumpeters. Each wore the picturesque Turkish fez, ornate with golden crescent, star and sword. As they marched and countermarched, each one saluting the Ringlings, the big tent shook with applause. Meantime the eager multitudes kept jamming and crowding in. A good deal of language might be used up in stating the size of that crowd, but suffice it to say that our doors were closed at 7:45, the ticket wagon shut down and locked up, and thousands upon thousands turned away. The laurel crown is ours. Ten thousand people compelled to “wait for Barnura,” as they couldn’t get in to see the Ringling Show. This victory set all the roosters in Baraboo crowing, and made the two laughing hyenas smile through the bars of their cage. This glorious triumph made Bailey’s spirit blue as the whiskers of Blue Beard, and made tears like marbles roll out of the statue of Barnum. Ringlingville triumphant. What do you think of the “Baraboo Brothers” now? Excuse grim fate for “playing at cross purposes.” Excuse the glass eggs for not hatching. As for you, Captain J. A. B., “This world is full of roses, and the roses full of dew, And Milwaukee’s tubs are full of soup, that drips and falls for you.”

In case you have any tears to shed, go out in the wood-shed and shed ’em. The Ringlings are a gallant foe, and would cheerfully hand you a snowball to eat in a land that is hotter than this, or in front of the Baraboo court house erect your stately statue, carved out of a cake of cheese. They even hope you will have good luck when you come, and take in the glorious golden boom they turned away from their doors. But never for a moment think you can make them climb a tree. If you want to make some other show lose money, go tickle the hand-organ monkey and make him swallow the cent. Though defeated, we hope your seconds will give you a good rubbing down and part your hair with a sponge. If you feel red-headed and feverish, you can cool your brow with a chunk of that ice which you bought to lay on the Ringling Brothers’ stricken saw-dust forms.

“If you feel a little dry, If you’re cross, and don’t kuow why;” you can wrap yourself in a blanket of comfort by reading how they reached you in the ribs. Just con the bunch of telegrams when your tent is dark and drooping, at the gruesome hour when the side-wall whistle blows and the ghost of Barnum walks, and the seats are falling down and the roof is caving in. At that grim hour, when your tottering show is “ready to go to pieces,” by laying the flap of your ear on the ground you can hear far away the faint, mellow and murmuring melody:

“Who are, who are, who are you? ”
“We are, we are Baraboo.
Ziss! Boom! Bah! Ah!”

The greatest honor ever paid to showmen was tendered to the Ringlings in Milwaukee, by the public greeting and uniformed attendance of two hundred members of Tripoli Temple, Ancient Arabic Order Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. They are all thirty-second degree Masons, and men of the highest prominence in public, private, professional and political life. They attended as a compliment to their friends, the Ringling Brothers, all seven of whom are high Masons, while the managerial five are members of the Consistory. When the circus was over the famous showmen had a surprise for their brethren in the shape of a sumptuous banquet at the Kirby House, one of the finest Joslyn & Carrothers ever superintened. Mr. Alfred Ringling opened the ceremonies with a modest, appropriate, interesting talk. Mr. L. L. Caufy, commanding the Shriners, made a most felicitous response, and referred to the glory of “Ringling Day” in Milwaukee. Col. Watrous said Wisconsin was proud of the Ringling Brothers, and predicted for them, within the next few years, the very greatest amusement enterprise the world has ever seen. Mr. H. F. Underwood made an exceedingly witty speech, and E. E. Chapin and W. S. Johnson spoke with eloquent feeling. Mr. Charles W. Fish, the scholarly and famous bare-back rider, made a splendid talk. He referred to the honor conferred by the Mystic Shriners, in their public greeting and recognition beneath the dome of our canvas, as “the very finest and most appropriate compliment ever paid to managers of this class of entertainment in the whole history of the world.” Grand Secretary John W. Laflin, a gentleman of great literary repute, gave a splendid recitation of the following beautiful poem, a paraphrase from the banquet scene in Lorn’s Castle, from Scott’s “Lord of the Isles.”

Ringlings, I rose with purpose dread
To speak my curse upon thy head
And give thee all as outcasts o’er
To Bailey, who burns to shed thy gore.
But, like the Midianite of old,
Who stood on Zophim, heaven controll’d,
I feel within my swelling breast
A power that will not be repressed.
It prompts my voice, it swells my veins,
It burns, it maddens, it constrains.
With thy superb and mammoth shows,
Thou’rt far surpassing all thy foes.
O’ermastered then by high behest,
I bless thee and thou shall be blessed.
Bless’d in the hall and in the field,
Under thy canvas as a shield.
Bless’d in thy fez and with thy sword -
Of Circus men the rightful Lords,
Upholders of Wisconsin’s fame,
Promoters of her honored name.
O'ermastered then by high behest,
I bless thee and thou shalt be bless’d.
Blessed in thy deeds and in thy fame,
What lengthened honors wait thy name.
In future ages sire to son
Will tell of praise the Ringlings won.
Go, then, triumphant; sweep along
Thy course; the theme of many a song,
A power whose dictates swell my breast,
Hath bless’d thee and thou shalt be bless’d.

Tuesday, July 19th. Waukesha, Wis. C. & N. W., 19 miles. Pop. 6,321. “The Saratoga of the West.” Hotels - Park Avenue and Cambrian. Hot as perdition’s hinges and the ice-cold strawberry booms. Pete, the blood-sweating hippopotamus, lay in his bath-tub all day.

Wednesday July 20th. Waukegan, Ill. C. & N. W., 68 miles. Pop. 4,915. Hotels - Madison and Waukegan. Red-hot weather. Two town clowns, blacked up, offend audience. Pearl Bradburn, Budd Hawes and 200 Chicago visitors. Nelson, living skeleton, closed. Mrs. Tybell to Chicago for a rest. Mrs. Natalie likewise - for a trunk.

Thursday, July 21. Lake Geneva, Wis. C. & N. W., 51 miles. Pop. 2,297. Hotels - Stafford and Garrison. Romantic, beautiful lake adorned with summer cottages. Tenth salary day. George Holland visits. Hot enough to hatch eggs. Lot between two graveyards and business rather grave.

Friday, July 22d. De Kalb, Ill. C. & N. W., 76 miles. Pop. 2,579. Hotel - Glidden. O’Brien overleaps tick, but the “big guy” saves him. Two years ago to-day, at Elkader, Iowa, Mike Rooney’s first public bare-back somersault. More collar-wilting weather. In the Roman entry much jaw sweat ran down the high-priest’s whiskers, like the precious ointment that ran down the beard of Aaron, even “to the skirts of his garments.”

Saturday. July 23d. Sterling, Ill. C. & N. W., 51 miles. Pop. 5,824. Hotel - Randolph. Magnificent business. Twelfth week’s milage 330. Hot as a bake-oven. Old Sol makes things sizzle.

“At noon the sun beats fiercely down;
The pavements, white with heat,
Have made a furnace of the town
And burn the passer’s feet.”

Sunday, July 24th. We lounged around all day on the court-house square at Tipton, having sylvan pleasure under the greenwood trees. In this town date Alexander outran Dodson, Independence sprinter winning a neat sum. Young Clate, like fabled Mercury of old, has wings upon his heels.

Monday, July 25th. Tipton, Iowa. C. & N. W., 89 miles. Pop. 1,599. Hotels - Fleming and Park. Fair ground lot. Good attendance. Kelly and Big Hungry Bill double up their “bunches of fives.” Uptown giant ox, 3,770 pounds. Ben Vernon hands a lady $2.00 for stepping on her parasol, his hack ride thus costing $2.10. She tears her dress getting out. Gallant Ben should have mashed the lady instead of her parasol.

Tuesday, July 26th. Belle Plalne, Iowa. C. & N. W., 73 miles. Pop. 2,623. Hurley House, a hotel that reached our hearts; delicious coffee and infinite cake. Fat landlord, a democrat 52 years. Fine business. Many Indians from adjoining Tama Agency. Artist Fish draws one, a living cigar sign, called George Jesus. B. H. B. tossed in tarpaulin. At night dramatic incident which need not be recounted, and only needed a little red fire on a shovel to look like a scene from a blood-and-thunder play.

Wednesday, July 27th. Eldora, Iowa. C. & N. W., 57 miles. Pop. 1,577. Name recalls Eldora, the famous juggler. Hotels - Edginton and Ellsworth. Lot past graveyard. Big business. Eleventh salary day. Warm weather, and our sweaty shirts stick closer than a friend. All the boys did “hot acts.” and wore a necklace of beads of perspiration. Blow-over storm at 8:15. Parade; three horses jump fence. Reuben to tattooed man, “How did you get branded?”

Thursday, July 28th. Eagle Grove, Iowa. C. & N. W., 58 miles. Pop. 1881. Hotels - Occidental and Devere. Richard Dialo, murdered Ringling cannon ball performer, buried at Webster City, 15 miles south. Hudson, Algona photographer, shows many circus views. Hard rain; 30 degrees colder. Yesterday red-hot weather, to-day red-hot stove. Lot changed. Heavy business. Parade; two horses tangled in harness. In dressing room, with raised umbrellas, actors have Indian war dance. Jerry Alton, with a war-whoop, scalps Debonnaire, lifting his wig.

Friday, July 29th. Jefferson, Iowa. C. & N. W., 94 miles. Pop. 1,875. Montes Hotel and Ladies Aid Society. At the latter, “punk pie and chick.” Nice red-clover lot. Immense business. Famous Yankee Robinson, once partner of the Ringlings, buried here. His grave is marked by a beautiful red granite monument six feet high, bearing carved Masonic emblems at the top. The inscription is as follows: In Memoriam. Erected by Sells Brothers’ Show and the Ringling Brothers, 1890. Fayette L. Robinson, Born May 2, 1818, died September, 4, 1884.

Saturday, July 30th. Ida Grove, Iowa. C. & N. W., 68 miles. Pop. 1,563. Farmer’s Home and Meyers’ Restaurant. Thirteenth week’s run, 438 miles. Werring, magician, joins. Big business crowds our wigwam. Policeman thinks Mellivan, tattooed man, a suspicious character. The living picture book squares himself by showing his India ink etchings. Snake dies, fourth this season. Madame Nichols awaits a new invoice from Amazonian swamps, where snakes are so common they use them for fence rails and clothes lines, and a drowning Ringling agent was saved by grasping one end of a tossed snake, being thus roped out of the water.

Sunday, July 31st. Reached Omaha for breakfast. Here opposition’s trumpet sounds. Buying a morning paper on the street car, see the full page ad. of the Ringlings, headed, “Last Call. To-morrow is Circus Day.” It is full of hot shot. The Barnum agents, busy as a hen with one chicken, are shedding much ink and talking like cages of parrots, calling their rivals the Ding-a-ling Brothers, the Sawdust Brothers of Baraboo, and other pretty names. But “we are the boys that fear no noise,” and to-morrow will give the old gentleman a few more pillow thoughts, and make him so sad he will call his affair“ The Munrab and Yeliab Show,” spelling the firm names backward. If he don’t keep away from the band wagon, we will make him think that the robe of his mighty fame is wearing out at the elbows. If every man took up the room he thinks he does, some of us would be crowded off the earth. Eight o’clock parade route: Twentieth, Paul, Cumings, Seventeenth, Davenport, Fifteenth, Douglas, Tenth, Farnam, Sixteenth, Cumings, and to showgrounds, Twentieth and Paul. Month’s run, 1,686 miles. From Baraboo, 5,818.

August. States traversed - Nebraska, Iowa, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Indiana, Michigan and Ohio.

Monday, August 1st. Omaha, Neb. C. & N. W., 130 miles. Pop. 61,885. Hotels - Union and Metropolitan. “Thank heaven, the wolves are after us,” exclaimed a pursued comedian, pulling the string of his fright-wig. Looking down at the yelping Barnum horde that is snapping around our heels, a similar feeling of thankfulness fills and thrills our souls. We know good advertising when we see it. The Ringlings don’t come from a very big town, but any one who runs up against them should put an edge on himself, and be as sharp as possible. No President of these United States was ever born in a city, and the Ringling Brothers, presidents of the show business, have the same good fortune. Mr. Bailey is trying to down these Napoleonic managers. He had better try something easy, such as hatching chickens from snake eggs, or training an elephant to catch mice. Having scratched their heads to set their intellects going, the Barnum free lances are filling the papers with malice. Reduced to desperation. our foes are fighting with claw and tooth and nail. “But to-day they will be buried, for we hear the deepening hum Of the people, and the stepping of our patrons as they come.”

We did a tremendous business here, by pumpkins and squash begosh. Like a hot knife into butter, the Ringling sword come down, smashing and crashing the helmets of opposition. The Barnum forces swayed back in awe, believing us all sworn members of the Holy Terrors Society. They were crushed completely, but they ought to have known better than to go between an elephant and a wall. With drooping mouths all puckered up from whistling against the wind, they had barely strength to murmur, “We are licked.”

The rush on the door was something appalling, and made the opposition folks look pale about the ears. The people stood two hundred deep around the ticket wagon, and came in swarms and droves. Unable to get reserved seats, the wealth and aristocracy of the city held lawn parties and circus picnics on the green grass of the hippodrome ellipse, crowding three rings when this was cleared for the races. The crowd was most uproarious and jolly, full of boisterous and girlerous enthusiasm. Two hundred and fifty members of Tangier Temple, Ancient Arabic Order Nobles of the Mystic Shrine, attended in a body, all wearing the fez and jewel, and accompanied by their wives. They were all in high feather, and yelled and crowed at everything they saw. The Ringling Brothers, tickled, but not laughing, looked on “the swelling scene.” Meantime, as in the case of Milwaukee, the ticket sale had been stopped before eight o’clock, and fully twice the population of Baraboo turned away from our doors. Just think of it, ten thousand people turned away from this scene of glee and glory. Truly the gods of Fate, Success and Luck meant the Ring in the name of Ringling to stand for a circus Ring. The show made a four-base bit, and all the papers gave us a world of compliment. To recount this praise, would fill whole columns and columns. When the show was over, the monkey dead, and the Barnum people disgusted, two hundred and fifty beautiful ladies, the wives of the various Shriners, made their way to carriages in waiting. There were ladies with brows like marble, ladies with cheeks like roses, ladies who had eyes as black as a silk hat. As their carriages made a turn in the road, with one common burst of melody they all sang sweetly and softly:

“Our carriages are going around the bend,
Good-bye, my lover, good-bye.
They are loaded down with Ringling men,
Good-bye, Jim Bailey, good-bye.”

We ourselves pause to murmur, in a voice that is hoarse with emotion, “ Good-bye, Jim Bailey, good-bye. A man can stop an elephant with a kick, but he can’t stop the Ringlings that way. And this is a tale of what happened in Omaha - “aha.”

Tuesday, August 2d. Council Bluffs, Iowa. U. P., 6 miles. Named from Indian councils on the bluffs. Pop. 21,388. Gordon Hotel. Fifteen crooks arrested, Pinkerton detective Ryan identifying one as the Belle Plaine housebreaker. Trainman John Crowley, from St. Louis, had a toe cut off last night by the rebound of one of the steel plates on which we run wagons from car to car. Queer accident. Juggler Edward A. Conklin visits. Long, late parade. “The huge tent was packed.” - Daily Globe.

Wednesday, August 3d. Atlantic, Iowa. C., R. I. & P., 59 miles. Pop. 3,842. Collins Hotel. Lot on Nishnabotna river. Swimming. Unblocked wardrobe wagon runs down hill. Stopped by trees. Japanese Sammy pushes break-away-ladder too soon, knocking it from Akimoto’s shoulder, and falling thirty feet. Carried out, but reappears later “O. K.” On parade saw a man with yard long beard. “The wind,”etc. Johnny Roouey sick from mixing ice-cream aud sausage. D. News: “Delighted ten thousand people. A clever show, free from gamblers and fakirs.”

Thursday, August 4th. Stuart, Iowa. C., R. I. & P. 41 miles. In two counties, Guthrie and Adair; post office in former. Pop. 2,147. Big crowd, thick as blackberries. Daniel Boone Co. visits; also “the man in white” - 12th time. When Arcari took gas at the dentists’ to-day he heard bag-pipes and bumble-bees buzzing, and exclaimed, as he faded away, “Cover me over with beautiful flowers.” When he awoke four teeth were lost, strayed or stolen.

Friday, August 5th. Indianola, Iowa. C., R. I. & P., 64 miles. Pop. 2,254. Central Hotel. Splendid business. Natalie’s pigs please the farmers. Projecting cattle chute knocks the bear cage off the train, and crushes front end of the tiger den.

Saturday, August 6th. Winterset, Iowa. Pop. 2,281. C.. R. I. & P., 33 miles. Fourteenth week’s run, 333 miles. Here’s a string of five “threes.” St. Nicholas Hotel. Winterset compliments Summerset (26 miles away), just as Good Hatchet, Idaho, compliments Bad Axe, Michigan. Business bang up.

Monday, August 8th. Washington, Iowa. C., R. I. & P., 139 miles. Pop. 3,235. Allen Hotel, very nice. Prof. Weldon springs beautiful new music. Big business. Actors photographed by W. S. Cole. Fish groups them in artistic styles. “Madison’s coming” (laughter). Good photographer - bad photo. Should have been taken outside. Not so good as the Kodak’s artistic society maidens used to take of us glittering actors when riding the morning parade.

Tuesday, August 9th. Iowa City, Iowa. C., R. I. & P., 78 miles. Pop. 7,016. State capital, 1839 to 1855. St. James Hotel, superb. Close central lot down hill, on Iowa river. Swimming. Good business twice. Two Mexican Pumas join. Two first section sleepers crushed by uncontrollable train, handled down grade without air brakes. Sent away for repairs. Hard rain at night. Left lot 3 A. M.

Wednesday, August 10th. Vinton, Iowa. B., C. R. & N , 55 miles. Pop. 2,865. Ralyea Hotel. Passing Cedar Rapids at 7 A. M., Mr. Reed saw our train cause a fatal runaway, throwing carriage occupant, crushing his skull on the track rails. Arrived 8 A. M. One o’clock parade. Fair ground lot. Excellent business. Our workmen and superintendent had a hard time last night, on account of the rain and wrecked sleepers.

Thursday, August 11th. Independence, Iowa. B., C. R. & N., 54 miles. Pop. 3,136. Empire Hotel. Great trotting town. “A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse.” Allerton owned here. Equestrian Fish has her shoe, worn trotting 2.09 1/4, a present from Bruce L. Baldwin. 200 insane visit. Wrecked sleepers returned. Hotel, great rustling waiter girl. Back of lot. Wapsipinicon River - swimming. Thirteenth salary day. John Snellen, our splendid superintendent of canvas, goes to Baraboo for a few days’ rest. “Here’s to his health.” Poor Andy Gaffney, our veteran cannon-ball tosser, died in New York to-day. “Here’s to his soul’s repose.” He was seventy years old, had been forty years with the white tops, had courtly manners, and was a typical representative of the genus, “old showman.” He was once called “The Irish Giant,” and looked as grand in his cannon ball act as the picture of fabled “Atlas poising the world on his shoulders.”

Friday, August 12th. West Union, Iowa. B., C. R & N., 35 miles. Pop. 1,676. Arlington Hotel. Harry Ashton warmly welcomed back, after being absent 346 days, on account of sickness. He left last year, at Edwardsville, Ills., Monday, August 31. Prof. Weldon, whose famous band thrills the circus air with melody, goes to Baraboo for a