Serves you right!" people in the crowd shouted.
The clown scampered off behind the curtain.
"Scoundrel!
He sold himself to the Three Fat Men!
He's ready to damn those who've gone to meet their death to free us!"
The music became louder.
Other bands joined in. There were nine fifes, three bugles, three Turkish drums, and a violin, the sound of which gave everyone a toothache.
The owners of the booths wanted the loud music to drown out the noise of the crowd.
"The actors may get scared of the oat-cakes," one of them said. "We must pretend nothing has happened."
"Come one, come all!
The show's about to begin!"
One of the booths was called
"The Trojan Horse".
The showman came out from behind the curtain.
He had on a jacket with round brass buttons and a green tophat. His cheeks were painted a bright red.
"Shhh!" he hissed, as if he were talking German. "Shhh!
This is the show you've always wanted to see!"
There was a little less noise after that.
"This is such a special day, that we've invited Lapitup the Strong Man to perform for you!"
"Ta-ti-tu!" the bugles blew.
Rattles were spun around to sound like applause.
''Lapitup the Strong Man will now show you what his amazing muscles can do."
The band began to play.
The curtain parted.
Lapitup the Strong Man came forward.
A huge man in pink tights, he really did look strong.
He huffed and puffed and he held his head low like a bull.
His muscles moved up and down under his tights. They looked like rabbits that had been swallowed by a boa-constrictor.
Stagehands brought in the weights and dropped them on the stage, nearly breaking the floor boards.
A cloud of dust rose from the spot.
A murmur went through the crowd.
The strong man began to do his tricks.
He picked up a weight in each hand, tossed them into the air like rubber balls, caught them, and then clapped them together, making sparks fly.
"Look!" he said. "This is how the Three Fat Men will crack the skulls of Prospero the Gunsmith and Tibul the Acrobat."
The strong man had also been bought by the gold of the Three Fat Men.
"Ha-ha-ha!" he laughed at his own joke.
He knew that no one would dare throw an oat-cake at him, for everyone could see how strong he was.
In the silence that fell on the crowd the Negro's voice sounded very clearly.
Every head turned his way.
"What did you say?" the Negro asked, placing his foot on the bottom step.
"I said that's how the Three Fat Men will crack the skulls of Prospero the Gunsmith and Tibul the Acrobat."
"Keep your mouth shut!"
The Negro spoke calmly, sternly, and quietly.
"Who do you think you are, you black thing, you?" the strong man said angrily.
He dropped the weights and put his hands on his hips.
The Negro climbed on to the stage.
"You are very strong and no less mean.
Why don't you tell us who you are?
Who gave you the right to insult the people?
I know you.