Who
has
been
responsible
for
the
largest
number
of
anecdotes
and
the
butt
of
about
as
many
jokes
about
poor
circuses
is
Adauto
Freire.
My
contribution
has
been
the
most
generous
possible,
but
I
could
never
have
had
as
much
imagination
as
he,
every
moment
flashing
a
new
coloring,
some
new
flair
or
detail,
and
a
friendlier
face
to
give
more
honesty
to
his
creativity.
The
story
is
only
fifteen
days
old
now,
and
being
constantly
told
and
retold,
mainly
to
Consuelo
and
Mariazinha,
which
gives
it
an
authentic,
involving
and
sympathetic
halo
of
compassion.
Raquel
has
enjoyed
the
progression
of
events,
as
much
at
work
as
at
home,
because
Rafael
and
Rodrigues,
her
sons,
are
specialists
in
putting
up
play-circuses,
only
to
make
the
lion
groan
with
depression
and
apathy.
Paulinha,
Paulo
Sidônio,
Maninho
and
Elizena,
more
serious,
ask
themselves
how
far
something
like
this
can
go
on.
Really,
though…it
was
just
a
very
poor,
lame
and
destitute
circus,
even
though
it
had
a
great
clown,
a
fire-eater,
a
blond
trapeze
artist,
a
candy
man,
and
a
lion
tamer.
The
trapeze
artist
doubled
as
the
ticket
lady,
that
is,
when
someone
courageous
enough
to
buy
one
appeared.
The
lion
trainer
also
doubled
as
the
fire-eater,
better
known
as
The
Fantastic
Flame
Licker,
as
well
as
the
candy
and
chewing
gum
vendor.
The
clown
also
held
the
double
responsibility
being
owner
and
general
manager
of
the
company.
As
you
can
imagine,
few
people
could
survive
these
meager
conditions
in
times
of
normality.
The
truth,
however,
is
heart
rending.
Bone
poor,
as
Tadeu
Leite
would
have
commented,
in
the
time
that
he
was
still
a
radio
announcer,
with
his
program
“Scream
it
out”.
So…Time
goes
on,
and
the
circus’s
first
week
went
by
enjoying
normal
attendance,
and
then
plummeted
until
it
became
a
nightmare,
and
then
blossomed
into
a
true
school
of
sacrifices.
Hunger
came,
unchained
and
furious,
bludgeoning
privation,
attenuated
by
only
two
pink
mango
trees
in
fruit,
located
right
in
front
of
the
ticket
office.
The
clown,
deathly
pale
from
sub
nutrition,
no
longer
needed
white
or
yellow
face
paint,
which
was
good,
I
guess,
because
it
made
life
cheaper
for
him.
The
red,
black
and
blue
face
paint
was
sufficient
for
his
make-up
needs.
During
the
day,
the
clown
was
employed
as
a
cowboy
at
a
neighboring
ranch,
and
in
his
spare
time
worked
as
a
carryout
boy
at
the
town
supermarket.
The
trapeze
girl
went
to
work
as
a
maid
at
the
office
of
the
town
doctor,
taking
advantage
of
her
spare
time,
washing
and
ironing
to
fetch
a
few
more
pennies.
The
lion
tamer
became
a
medicine-man
at
the
local
farmer’s
market,
and
that
noble
profession,
he
would
practice
at
the
time
he
would
normally
be
feeding
the
lion,
and
this
was
because
he
couldn’t
stand
to
hear
the
poor
animal’s
heart-rending
cries
for
food.
But
dreadfully
tragic
was
the
situation
of
the
their
children,
orphans
of
necessity
with
faces
reflecting
empty
plates.
Lying
down
close
under
the
mango
trees
they
would
lie,
belly
up,
incessantly
searching
the
branches
for
a
ripening
fruit,
and
when
they
could
find
one,
just
barely
beginning
to
turn
purple-green,
they
would
skitter
up
the
trunk
like
spiders
and,
ever
so
gently,
turn
each
mango
around,
so
that
they
would
catch
more
sun
and
ripen
quicker,
trying
to
hold
off
their
hunger
until
they
were
ripe
and
sweet.
When
the
situation
bore
down
to
absolute
poverty,
precisely
half
of
one
of
the
two
tents
was
sold
as
a
semi-truck
trailer
covering
and
the
planks
of
the
big
top
audience
benches
were
sold
for
next
to
nothing
to
construct
a
temporary
fence
around
the
building
site
of
a
new
local
school.
The
ironically
funniest
thing
about
the
bankruptcy
of
the
doomed
company
was
what
was
done
with
the
lion,
and
this,
Adauto
confirms
as
an
eye
witness:
He
was
given
a
soapy
bath
with
coco
soap,
a
neat
shave
from
tip
of
whiskers
to
tip
of
tail…
and
was
sold
as
a
dog
to
a
Montes
Claros
hunter,
the
region’s
biggest
city…
