Last Man Standing

From p. 2:

No matter what town or state they rolled into, no matter what time of the day or night it was, there was a fixed routine they all had to perform before anyone could sleep. As general manager of the Cohen Brothers’ Traveling Circus, it was Hank Granger’s job to make sure everything was ready to go by showtime at 3 p.m. the following day. That meant everyone helping to completely unload the train immediately after they arrived: equipment, animals, food, everything.

Today, finding the extra help to pound stakes and plant the poles, then haul the ropes to raise the heavy canvas tents was not Hank Granger’s main problem. Nor was ensuring the booths got set up in their proper places along the sections laid out on the midway; Joey Twelve-toes was handling that pretty good.

From p. 3:

A thunderstorm moved through sometime after three, raining long enough to cool things off and soak the midway. Hank Granger favored the rain during show hours. The sounds and feel of the falling rain calmed the big cats and the elephants, making them more accepting of commands. The rain also intensified the smells of the circus—the hot dogs and cotton candy, the sawdust and the animal odors—memories of which kids carried fondly into their adult lives and passed on to their own children. More importantly, it sent the customers scurrying into the tents, where the main acts were performed and their highest receipts were collected—and the take was always good on rainy days.