Page:The writings in prose and verse of Rudyard Kipling (IA cu31924057346631).pdf/64



the day dragged through, And the afternoon brought the spangles,
 * The sawdust smell, the tights,
 * The flickering, flashing lights,
 * The smile to acknowledge the cheer

As the rider skips and jangles
 * The bells. Ye gods!&mdash;'twas queer

How the young equestriennes flew.

A programme redished, I lay
 * Back in my seat to gaze

On the faces around, to hear what folk say, While the orchestra rattled and roared,
 * Murdering popular lays&mdash;

It was hot, too, and I felt bored.

Then a voice from behind, a rustling of dress,
 * The step of a man, a silence to settle,
 * A babble of children (how they push,

These little ones, making your coat in a mess), A silence to settle, and after a gush
 * Of small talk, I sat and waited,
 * Shutting my eyes till the stream abated.

'Twas a tale of trouble, told in a rush. 44