IRC-Galleria

Shando was the special clown. Not moderately cheerful, not moderately fervent, not moderately ridiculous. His one ironic sight forced public to laugh loudly. He parodied, went on a rope, threw jokes and manufactured such tricks what anybody else could do. But after the performance,He hastened in a closet called "House" where the weakened sick girl laid. The doctor has precribed her a rare and expensive medicine Â… Every morning Shando went to the square to earn by laughter on healing hurt. Today the clown has returned and with horror has noticed, how pale she was. Thin, with empty, but light eyes, she was awesome and Â… sick. Shando has glanced in a purse,there wasn't enough money for a new portion of a medicine.. So he had gone on a street, wishing to get money at any cost: to earn, elicit or steal. In a muddy lane He was waited by the person under a road raincoat.
- Are you in need of money, the merry fellow?
- Yes, money is necessary.
- Then sell to me the pleasure, the smile, the laughter Â…
- How much will you give me for it?
- So much that more medicines will not be necessary for your girl.
- How do you know that?
- So you agree?
- Yes.
And Shando sold that only thing, that distinguished Him from tens and hundreds other people. But do You think that all clowns have sad eyes because of this?
Any sorcerer could not take away up to the end from the most joyful harlequin His playfulness and fun.
Simply Shando came home and had understood, that His beloved is dead...