The Circusgoer

Time was when Unus, the man who stands on his forefinger, was the sensation of the Ringling circus. This year Unus is no longer with it. In his place is another gent who stands on an even smaller finger, his pinkie; and this only as a curtain-raiser to similar stunts on a swinging trapeze. The circus is better than ever.

Its spirit is caught in the query of the announcing at the beginning of display 11: "What will they think of next?" At this point in the evening's entertainment. Leoni is standing on his head atop a 60-foot pole, which thereupon breaks in half. In the neighboring reaches of the Boston Garden loft, Mr. Morituri is holding a perforated steel sphere in his teeth while Mrs. Morituri cycles around the inside. Below, fearless janitors are carrying off card-tables that the Realles Trio have just been spinning on their feet.

Even the Flying Concellos, who have been flying through Camel ads as long as most of us have been walking--even the Concellos are thinking up new ideas. They now pull the pants off one of their troupe, as high off the ground as the 90c tickets.

The trained seals are back at last. The freaks, as usual, are the ugliest persons ever assembled in one basement, especially the Cuban Troubadors, last year's Hula Girls. Afficianados will note with distaste that the modern circus still has too much of the ballet, the burlesque, and the "Regal Cavalcade with Queen Marie Antoinette and her Gay Court of The Royal Horse Show in the Forest of Fontaineblean." But even so nauseous a spectacle as Sixty Alluring Aloha Girls Aloft can be reclaimed by watching Pinito Del Oro in the center, standing no-hands on a swinging trapeze.

Whatever the criticism, the "Greatest Show on Earth" still is; and only the sobersides student won't get a kick out of it,