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SHOWMAN
to give the drunk his money's worth, split up among them. Sometimes a small-time Coal Oil Johnny would go as high as $500 to start something, and every time the spectators would brighten up amazingly. After a while the management caught on and started the sprints as a regular part of the program.
Still, even if the six-day races are only a parody of the old-time performances, I have a soft spot in my heart for them. I courted my wife most successfully during an all-night session at a six-day race in the old Garden.
Wrestling, bicycling, and heaven knows what all— I was like the fellow in "The Jumping Frog" who would bet on anything. The public was having an orgy of freak contests and there was no telling what they'd jump after next. I don't expect to be believed, but serious records were really kept of the best performances in such events as quail-eating, butchering, oyster-opening, newspaper-folding, goose-picking, shaving and bean-eating. I was one of the people who gave them whatever lunacy they happened to be craving at the moment. When broadsword combats on horseback got popular, I immediately imported Duncan C. Ross, the European champion in this sport— if you call it sport. It certainly proved that anything which involves possible death— motor-racing, bicycleracing or what not— is sure fire. Those broadsword artists fought with real swords, not very sharp perhaps, but heavy and wielded with the full power of brawny
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