call it fear exactly," he began.

"Yes, it was fear, too," put in his wife, teasing. "I've seen your knees
shake so up on the pedestal that you almost tumbled off."

"No wonder my knees shook," protested St. Belmo; "they've been out of
joint times enough. Naturally, after an accident you feel a little queer
for a while; but I'll own up there was once I felt afraid, and it wasn't
long ago, either."

"I know," said his wife; "up at the Twenty-second Regiment Armory."

"That's right; it was in December. Remember when that bicycle-diver was
killed? His name was Stark? Poor chap! He was a friend of ours, and we
were there when it happened. You know, he got too much speed on the
incline, and struck the far edge of the tank instead of the water. That
was in the afternoon, and the same night we had to go on and do our act.
I looked at that tank, and then I said, 'Boys, I'm leary about this, but
I'm going to do my act. I'll come down somehow, boys; you watch me.'
Honest, I thought I was going to be killed, but I got through all
right."

Then he explained that the greatest danger in his act is neither at the
knives nor at the balloon, but in the swift drop after the balloon with
the hoop under his arms. This hoop, as it goes down, winds up a spring
overhead that acts as a break on the fall, though a very slight one.
Just before St. Belmo reaches the floor he lifts his arms above the hoop
and drops through it to the ground, but he must do that at precisely the
right moment, or he will suffer accident. If he drops through too soon
he will strike too hard, and may break his legs. If he does not drop
through soon enough, the hoop may jerk his arms out of the sockets. And
in spite of this formidable alternative St. Belmo assured me that for
more than a dozen years now he has made this drop continually, and never
failed once.

Think of a calling that requires a man to steer perpetually, by the
closest fraction of a shave, between a pair of broken legs and a pair of
dislocated arms! Fancy such an alternative as part of the regular
after-dinner routine! And then consider what marvelous precision must be
in these bodies and minds of ours when a man can face such a hazard for
years and never come to grief.

THE WILD-BEAST TAMER

I

WE VISIT A QUEER RESORT FOR CIRCUS PEOPLE AND TALK WITH A TRAINER OF
ELEPHANTS

WELL down on Fourth Avenue, below the bird-fanciers, the rat-catchers,
the antique-shops, and the dingy