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Authors: Marthe Jocelyn
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That way she could fill in as stage mother when required to help Josephine change her costumes.
On the outside walls of Walters Hall were hung enormous, painted banners, shouting to the world of the marvels that dwelt within.
EDUARDO, THE ALLIGATOR MAN,
HALF HUMAN, HALF REPTILE!
and then a picture of Eddie’s scaly body beneath his grimacing face.
CHARLES, THE ALBINO BOY!
DARE TO MEET A WALKING GHOST!
Charley, colored with the whitest pigment in the paint box, leered out at the customers with demonic eyes.
LITTLE JO-JO!
THE WORLD’S SMALLEST GIRL!
The portrait of Josephine showed her standing on an upturned teacup next to a flowerpot, with daisies towering over her.
The Main Promenade of Walters Hall sounded grander than it could ever be. Really, it was a long, narrowroom with low ceilings, painted a yellow that was meant to say “carnival” but said instead “no sunlight here.” Instead of brightening the hall, winking gas flames only added to the gloom.
Except during showtimes, the Astonishments were to stand at intervals along the hallway, still as stones on the beach, and let folks stare to their hearts’ content—or at least till they were pushed along by the crowd behind.
All the Strange Humans were staged indoors. The Genuine Hippopotamus and a motley flock of parrots were kept in a pen through an alley to the rear.
According to Charley, the hippopotamus had joined the company last summer. In the beginning, it was Mr. Walters’s great prize, being the only such creature to be exhibited anywhere in the state, as far as he knew.
But Potty was a great, grouchy thing, with breath that could knock down a tree. And arranging for a permanent mud puddle had proved to be a trial.
“Mr. Walters says he’s looking to find a mate for our Potty,” confided Charley. “The old stinker ought to liven up some having a lady to share his muck with. And a baby hippo would be worth its own weight in admission fees.”
It was in the alley alongside Potty’s pen where Josephine had learned to ride upon Barker’s back. Not wanting to admit to her fluttering stomach, she had asked that no one watch except the dog’s mistress, Rosie.
Rosie’s concern seemed more for Barker than for Josephine, but the Bearded Lady had been gentle enough when lifting her onto the saddle.
Josephine sat astride, her feet just level with Barker’s golden underbelly. There was a rein, but only for the look of it. Josephine’s hands held fistfuls of tawny fur at Barker’s neck, which she tried not to yank while the patient dog padded back and forth, serenaded by bleating parrots.
“Ah, Jo-Jo,” confessed Rosie, “I’d trade in my best corset for a few minutes in your place right now. I always knew my Barker was a good boy, but with you setting there on top, he looks right royal.”
“I do feel…” Josephine found herself whispering. “He makes me feel as a princess might, the way he puts his paws down so careful. Not shaking me off, but trying to help me sit tall.”
When Mr. Walters had been summoned to watch a demonstration, he bowed low and held out his hand to help Josephine dismount.
“A fine addition!” he applauded. “Another astonishing first for my Museum!”
Indoors, apart from the living exhibitions, there were several glass cases displaying what Mr. Walters claimed to be an “Impressive Selection of Collected Curiosities.”
Charley had to lift Josephine up so that she could see. There was a dried ear from an African elephant next to a glass bottle holding twelve black beetles found in the stomach of a baby in Pennsylvania.
“Uck!” laughed Josephine. “She must have been a crabby little thing.”
“What I’d like to know,” said Charley, “was whether the baby died because she had the bugs in her belly? Or whether she spat them out, one by one, and lived to be a wrinkled old lady.”
“With a daily craving for crawly bugs!” added Josephine. “And what about that?” she asked, pointing.
On the outside walls of Walters Hall were hung enormous, painted banners, shouting to the world of the marvels that dwelt within.
EDUARDO, THE ALLIGATOR MAN,
HALF HUMAN, HALF REPTILE!
and then a picture of Eddie’s scaly body beneath his grimacing face.
CHARLES, THE ALBINO BOY!
DARE TO MEET A WALKING GHOST!
Charley, colored with the whitest pigment in the paint box, leered out at the customers with demonic eyes.
LITTLE JO-JO!
THE WORLD’S SMALLEST GIRL!
The portrait of Josephine showed her standing on an upturned teacup next to a flowerpot, with daisies towering over her.
The Main Promenade of Walters Hall sounded grander than it could ever be. Really, it was a long, narrowroom with low ceilings, painted a yellow that was meant to say “carnival” but said instead “no sunlight here.” Instead of brightening the hall, winking gas flames only added to the gloom.
Except during showtimes, the Astonishments were to stand at intervals along the hallway, still as stones on the beach, and let folks stare to their hearts’ content—or at least till they were pushed along by the crowd behind.
All the Strange Humans were staged indoors. The Genuine Hippopotamus and a motley flock of parrots were kept in a pen through an alley to the rear.
According to Charley, the hippopotamus had joined the company last summer. In the beginning, it was Mr. Walters’s great prize, being the only such creature to be exhibited anywhere in the state, as far as he knew.
But Potty was a great, grouchy thing, with breath that could knock down a tree. And arranging for a permanent mud puddle had proved to be a trial.
“Mr. Walters says he’s looking to find a mate for our Potty,” confided Charley. “The old stinker ought to liven up some having a lady to share his muck with. And a baby hippo would be worth its own weight in admission fees.”
It was in the alley alongside Potty’s pen where Josephine had learned to ride upon Barker’s back. Not wanting to admit to her fluttering stomach, she had asked that no one watch except the dog’s mistress, Rosie.
Rosie’s concern seemed more for Barker than for Josephine, but the Bearded Lady had been gentle enough when lifting her onto the saddle.
Josephine sat astride, her feet just level with Barker’s golden underbelly. There was a rein, but only for the look of it. Josephine’s hands held fistfuls of tawny fur at Barker’s neck, which she tried not to yank while the patient dog padded back and forth, serenaded by bleating parrots.
“Ah, Jo-Jo,” confessed Rosie, “I’d trade in my best corset for a few minutes in your place right now. I always knew my Barker was a good boy, but with you setting there on top, he looks right royal.”
“I do feel…” Josephine found herself whispering. “He makes me feel as a princess might, the way he puts his paws down so careful. Not shaking me off, but trying to help me sit tall.”
When Mr. Walters had been summoned to watch a demonstration, he bowed low and held out his hand to help Josephine dismount.
“A fine addition!” he applauded. “Another astonishing first for my Museum!”
Indoors, apart from the living exhibitions, there were several glass cases displaying what Mr. Walters claimed to be an “Impressive Selection of Collected Curiosities.”
Charley had to lift Josephine up so that she could see. There was a dried ear from an African elephant next to a glass bottle holding twelve black beetles found in the stomach of a baby in Pennsylvania.
“Uck!” laughed Josephine. “She must have been a crabby little thing.”
“What I’d like to know,” said Charley, “was whether the baby died because she had the bugs in her belly? Or whether she spat them out, one by one, and lived to be a wrinkled old lady.”
“With a daily craving for crawly bugs!” added Josephine. “And what about that?” she asked, pointing.
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