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said little； but gazed right into our souls； and made us tell him
just what was on our minds at the time； and then came out with
some magnificently luminous suggestion that cleared every
cloud away。 What was more he would then go off with us at once
and play the thing right out to its finish； earnestly and
devotedly； putting all other things aside。 So we called him the
funny man； meaning only that he was different from those others
who thought it incumbent on them to play the painful mummer。 The
ideal as opposed to the real man was what we meant； only we were
not acquainted with the phrase。 Those others； with their
laboured jests and clumsy contortions； doubtless flattered
themselves that THEY were funny men； we； who had to sit
through and applaud the painful performance； knew better。
He pulled up to a walk as soon as he caught sight of us； and the
dog…cart crawled slowly along till it stopped just opposite。
Then he leant his chin on his hand and regarded us long and
soulfully； yet said he never a word； while we jigged up and
down in the dust； grinning bashfully but with expectation。 For
you never knew exactly what this man might say or do。
〃You look bored；〃 he remarked presently； 〃thoroughly bored。 Or
elselet me see； you're not married； are you？〃
He asked this in such sad earnestness that we hastened to assure
him we were not married； though we felt he ought to have known
that much； we had been intimate for some time。
〃Then it's only boredom；〃 he said。 〃Just satiety and world…
weariness。 Well； if you assure me you aren't married you can
climb into this cart and I'll take you for a drive。 I'm bored；
too。 I want to do something dark and dreadful and exciting。〃
We clambered in； of course； yapping with delight and treading all
over his toes； and as we set off； Harold demanded of him
imperiously whither he was going。
〃My wife；〃 he replied； 〃has ordered me to go and look up the
curate and bring him home to tea。 Does that sound sufficiently
exciting for you？〃
Our faces fell。 The curate of the hour was not a success； from
our point of view。 He was not a funny man； in any sense of the
word。
〃but I'm not going to；〃 he added； cheerfully。 〃Then I was to
stop at some cottage and askwhat was it？ There was NETTLE…
RASH mixed up in it； I'm sure。 But never mind； I've forgotten；
and it doesn't matter。 Look here； we're three desperate young
fellows who stick at nothing。 Suppose we go off to the circus？〃
Of certain supreme moments it is not easy to write。 The varying
shades and currents of emotion may indeed be put into words by
those specially skilled that way； they often are； at considerable
length。 But the sheer； crude article itselfthe strong；
live thing that leaps up inside you and swells and strangles you；
the dizziness of revulsion that takes the breath like cold
waterwho shall depict this and live？ All I knew was that I
would have died then and there； cheerfully； for the funny man；
that I longed for red Indians to spring out from the hedge on the
dog…cart； just to show what I would do； and that； with all this；
I could not find the least little word to say to him。
Harold was less taciturn。 With shrill voice； uplifted in solemn
chant； he sang the great spheral circus…song； and the undying
glory of the Ring。 Of its timeless beginning he sang； of its
fashioning by cosmic forces； and of its harmony with the stellar
plan。 Of horses he sang； of their strength； their swiftness； and
their docility as to tricks。 Of clowns again； of the glory of
knavery； and of the eternal type that shall endure。 Lastly
he sang of Herthe Woman of the Ringflawless； complete；
untrammelled in each subtly curving limb； earth's highest output；
time's noblest expression。 At least； he doubtless sang all
these things and morehe certainly seemed to； though all that
was distinguishable was； 〃We're…goin'…to…the…circus！〃 and then；
once more； 〃We're…goin'…to…the…circus！〃the sweet rhythmic
phrase repeated again and again。 But indeed I cannot be quite
sure； for I heard confusedly； as in a dream。 Wings of fire
sprang from the old mare's shoulders。 We whirled on our way
through purple clouds； and earth and the rattle of wheels were
far away below。
The dream and the dizziness were still in my head when I found
myself； scarce conscious of intermediate steps； seated actually
in the circus at last； and took in the first sniff of that
intoxicating circus smell that will stay by me while this
clay endures。 The place was beset by a hum and a glitter and a
mist； suspense brooded large o'er the blank； mysterious arena。
Strung up to the highest pitch of expectation； we knew not from
what quarter； in what divine shape； the first surprise would
come。
A thud of unseen hoofs first set us aquiver； then a crash of
cymbals； a jangle of bells； a hoarse applauding roar； and Coralie
was in the midst of us； whirling past 'twixt earth and sky； now
erect； flushed； radiant； now crouched to the flowing mane； swung
and tossed and moulded by the maddening dance…music of the band。
The mighty whip of the count in the frock…coat marked time with
pistol…shots； his war…cry； whooping clear above the music； fired
the blood with a passion for splendid deeds； as Coralie；
laughing； exultant； crashed through the paper hoops。 We
gripped the red cloth in front of us； and our souls sped round
and round with Coralie； leaping with her； prone with her； swung
by mane or tail with her。 It was not only the ravishment of her
delirious feats； nor her cream coloured horse of fairy breed；
long…tailed； roe…footed； an enchanted prince surely； if ever
there was one！ It was her more than mortal beautydisplayed；
too； under conditions never vouchsafed to us beforethat held us
spell…bound。 What princess had arms so dazzlingly white； or went
delicately clothed in such pink and spangles？ Hitherto we had
known the outward woman as but a drab thing； hour…glass shaped；
nearly legless； bunched here； constricted there； slow of
movement； and given to deprecating lusty action of limb。 Here
was a revelation！ From henceforth our imaginations would have to
be revised and corrected up to date。 In one of those swift
rushes the mind makes in high…strung moments； I saw myself and
Coralie； close enfolded； pacing the world together； o'er hill and
plain； through storied cities； past rows of applauding
relations；I in my Sunday knickerbockers； she in her pink and
spangles。
Summers sicken； flowers fail and die； all beauty but rides round
the ring and out at the portal； even so Coralie passed in her
turn； poised sideways； panting； on her steed； lightly swayed as a
tulip…bloom； bowing on this side and on that as she disappeared；
and with her went my heart and my soul； and all the light and the
glory and the entrancement of the scene。
Harold woke up with a gasp。 〃Wasn't she beautiful？〃 he said； in
quite a subdued way for him。 I