"John Morressy - The Juggler" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morressy John)

for a platform, with a brightly painted cloth as backdrop, and were performing. Beran squeezed his way
through the crowd up to the very front, where he watched in fascination. He had never seen anything like
this in his life, never heard of such things, never dreamed that such people existed.
A man in colorful clothing bent over backward, far-ther and farther, until it seemed he must fall down, but
instead of falling, he kept on bending until he was able to thrust his head out between his knees and make
faces at the crowd, all the while saying things to make them laugh. He then planted his elbows on the
plat-form, took up a drum, and, balancing it atop his head, began to beat out a rhythm with his feet while he
rested on his forearms, his chin cupped in his hands. A woman in a long dress covered with ribbons did a
slow dance to the drumbeat. She made colored scarfs flutter about her in curling patterns. When the dance
was done, she flung up her hands and the scarfs all vanished at once. Beran cried out in astonishment, but
she was not done. She plucked a bright red scarf out of the air, rolled it up, and put it in her mouth, and then
breathed out flame. She did this several times, sending a stream of fire farther than the reach of her
outstretched finger-tips. When she was done making fire, she drew all the scarfs from her mouth, one by
one, unscorched and as bright as ever. After that, she did other tricks, mak-ing things disappear and then
reappear in unexpected places, taking a coin out of one man's ear and a squawk-ing hen from another's hood. Beran
was beside himself with amazement and delight.
The man then came forward, threw three brightly colored balls into the air, and began to juggle them,
arcing them back and forth between his hands. The woman threw him a fourth ball, and he worked it into
the pattern, and then she threw a fifth. By now the balls were a colored blur. The man sank down to a
kneeling position, then seated himself on a little stool that the woman had moved into place behind him. He
climbed onto the stool and tilted it until it was bal-anced on one leg. He then balanced himself on one foot
atop the stool. Finally, he sprang off to his feet again, all the time without dropping a ball.
Beran watched the steady shuttling motion of his hands, studying every move, unable to take his eyes
away. He had never seen a man juggle before, and it impressed him more than all the other feats. When
the man caught the five balls in his hands and gave a loud laugh, and the crowd cried out their approval,
Beran could not contain himself. He sprang up and shouted, "I want to do that!"
The crowd all laughed, and the juggler dropped to one knee, looked down on the boy, and said, "So you
want to be a juggler, do you?"
 Beran had never heard the word before. He could only say, "I want to do what you do!"
The man and the woman laughed, and the crowd laughed along with them. Someone took Beran under
the arms and swung him up to the platform. He did not understand what was funny, but he laughed along
with the rest.
"How much can you pay for lessons?" the man asked.
"He looks like a rich one. I bet he has plenty," the woman said, and the crowd laughed some more.
"I have a piece of bread," Beran said.
The juggler staggered back, as if astonished. "I've found a wealthy patron! I'll buy a palace and fill it with
servants! I'll never work again!" he said, reeling drunkenly about the platform.
"First you'll buy me fine clothes and jewels," the woman said, strutting about the stage in an imitation of a
grand lady displaying her finery.
"Will you show me?" Beran asked.
"Teach him to juggle!" someone called out from the crowd. Others took up the cry. The man raised his
hands to silence them, and announced, "Only because I have been offered such a generous reward, such a
lavish gift, will I reveal to this lad the secret of my art. But first, may I have the bread?" he said, turning to
Beran and bowing deeply.
Beran took the scrap of bread from his scrip. The man lifted it high, turned it over, examined it back and
front, sniffed it, made a face, and as the crowd laughed louder and louder, he pretended to bite into it, then
roared and held his jaw as if he had broken it. Maneuvering his jaw from side to side, he said, "How long
have you been carrying that bread around, boy?"
"Only since this morning."
The man turned to the crowd with an expression of disbelief; then he took a real bite and chewed slowly,