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Show The Circus Parade The time-honored circus parade, probably the best-loved of American spectacles, is to be abandoned, according to announcement an-nouncement made by hearts of several great circus managements. manage-ments. Various reasons are given for the action proposed, among them, the refusal of circus stars to take part in parades pa-rades and the traffic problem in big cities, which necessarily becomes exceedingly difficult when augmented by the long line of big equipages of the circus. The announcement, however, will be received with regret among the older folk 'and keen disappointment among the younger element of the population. Who can forget the thrill of the circus parade, in his youthful days? And who, indeed, has become altogether immune to it? Even the hours of patient watching among crowds of other watchers, with occasional clusters of gaudily colored gas balloons breaking the monotony, had a charm that reached its height with the first appearance of the procession, turning a distant corner. There were the prancing horses, and the magnificent band wagon, dispensing the most ''circusy" music imaginable. The long line of stolid looking elephants had a lure, in their fearful fear-ful nearness, and their enormous size, as they shuffled along. The jungle beasts in the cages! Just suppose suppose a lion should break the bars and plunge roaring into the crowd! The small boy thrilled at the thought, as he glanced here and there -for possible refuge in the emergency. Then came the spangled gods and goddesses mounted on beautiful horses, and so uncomprehensibly oblivious to the adulation created, as with a blase and bored expression each one rode on, glancing glanc-ing neither to the right nor left. The clowns, too, who can for get them, as the intense atmosphere created by the other attractions was mitigated in some dgree b tyheir hilarity? The dull roar of the big wagons gave a feeling almost of awe, and over it all, the circus sunshine. 'For there is a circus sunshine, all its own. It smiles on the crowd and shimmers from the bangles right down into the hearts of the small folk. And the screaming calliope that announced the end of the parade, unless, as is almost universally the practice, the small folk take it as a signal to run a few blocks and see the great sight till over again, on another street, and even, pss-sibly pss-sibly follow it to the show grounds, at the rest of maternal displeasure over a delayed dinner. All this will pass, another sacrifice to the god of modern progress. Those who have loved the circus parade will be sorry. The future generations, who never will see one, will, fortunately, not realize their loss. |