“Whirling Wonders of the World on Wheels” are “cycling champions in clubs and coteries, in single, double and tandem teams, in wheeling fads, fancy and freakish, in pictorial and picturesque peripatetic posturings.” Proceeding, he describes the elephants as “mountains in motion, ponderous and perspicacious pachyderms, in marvellous, military manoeuvres.” The districts remote from New York are assured that “every element and entity that enthused, excited and enthralled in the enormous Madison Square Garden will be a part and parcel of the prodigious performance.” And as a “super-splendid spectacular suggestion of greater, grander glories yet to come, early in the forenoon of the day of exhibition there will pass through the principal streets of the city the most mammoth, monster mass of moving magnificence that ever fell athwart the delighted, gratified, entranced vision of the human eye, the nearly all new free street parade, including an interesting and instructive illustration of the progress of our glorious Republic, showing in correct uniform the soldiers of all American wars; gorgeous tableaux, many massive, open dens, glittering cavalcades of knights and ladies, representatives of the regiment of Roosevelt’s Rough Riders, comic clowns and grotesque grimaldis, rollicking rubes and jolly jays, herds of ponderous elephants, droves of camels, floods of music from military bands, etc., etc.” * * * * * “Some circus owners never appreciate the valuable services we render them,” lamented a veteran press agent who has toured two continents under a tent. “The ignominious end of my graveyard specialty is an example of the palpable lack of sentiment and business astuteness sometimes disclosed when one least expects it. I observed that almost every town has turned upon the public a circus man of high or low degree, who finally returns to his native spot to pass his last days and be put away in the local cemetery. With the arrival of the circus his career becomes a topic of conversation among the townsfolk and invariably newspaper reporter, hotel keeper or some other resident engaged me in talk about the man. I always unblushingly remembered him vividly and was able, after a few leading questions, to shed much entertaining light upon his circus life, to express well-feigned surprise that the body of so well-known a character was buried there and to express a deep feeling of sorrow over the loss the profession had sustained in his death. Sometimes I would urge the erection of a more suitable monument and reproach townspeople for their neglect. “Not infrequently the subject of my solicitude had been a four-horse driver, a trombone player or a stake driver. But his professional insignificance was not appreciated by the friends of his life time, my tender expressions made good feelings toward the show, and I let no opportunity pass ungrasped. Sometimes the newspapers quoted my sentiments, and it helped business.