Much of what is appealing about a carnival, a side show or a circus comes not from what is seen but what is heard. The midgets, the sword swallowers, the dancers are only half the show. The pitchman sets the scene for all of them. His skillful use of language can transform the most paltry attractions into unforgettable images, and lend his curiosities some of the bizarre beauty of a Grimm's folktale.

Carnival pitchmen are among the last oral poets to hold the attention of modern American audiences. Their spiels, handed down from one generation of showmen to another, combine rhythm, alliteration, repetition and hyperbole--that is, outrageous exaggeration. The pitch builds to a fevered point where the talker "turns the tip," and tries to transform the magic of his talk to ticket sales. The following pitch, from a 1941 recording at the Archive of Folk Song in the Library of Congress, is for a carnival Motordrome, a cylindrical building where motorcycles rode on the walls.