k or more at a place, doing
what work they could obtain, and keeping a sharp lookout for Gill. Their
reticence and mutual understanding, coupled with their constant
watchfulness, excited suspicion when they first entered a village or
town, but when they departed from it they left behind many friends.
CHAPTER XVI.
BILL BENNER AND HUNCH JOIN A CIRCUS.
The musicians went first to Barberry, where they gave a concert, at
which the advance agent of a circus was present on a complimentary
ticket given him by Bill Kellar.
There was a small audience, but the performers were not discouraged.
They began the programme with a trio, which was rather noisy than
melodious. Of this Bill was rather glad, for, although not discordant,
it was sufficiently vigorous to warn the devil that there was ample
discord in reserve to overcome the wooing of the violin should he
instigate it to tempt the violinist.
Next came a violin solo by Bill, which he began nervously but played to
the end without distress. The audience demanded more, and he gave an
improvisation, a slow, insinuating thing that held the senses of the
hearers with the winsome spell of an opiate.
Hunch followed as the "Human Bagpipes," introduced by Bill, who spoke of
him as "the unpremeditated, one of impulsive Nature's whims, a man full
of unexpected things and bountifully provided with breathing apparatus."
"The hump on his back," Bill continued, "is not a deformity, but an
abundance. Consumption would grow weary in trying to absorb his lungs,
and pneumonia hesitates to attack him. He is triple-lunged, and the bump
on his back is the home of the third one. In this curved space the
superfluous, yet useful, lung inflates and collapses, and from it are
emitted the musical notes which you will now listen to. It is with great
pleasure, ladies and gentlemen, that I introduce to you Mr. Blair."
Hunch got up on the platform and made a bow that caused everybody to
laugh, it was so comically affected. Bill noticed with pride that the
circus agent paid more attention to the bagpipe imitation than he had
done to his own solo. A veritable Scotchman Hunch seemed as he wriggled
his back and piped the "Campbells are coming." For an encore he gave
"Annie Laurie." He himself could not give an explanation of the manner
of producing the peculiar tones that so closely resembled the bagpipes.
He knew only that his mouth was partly open while it emitted the sounds,
and that instincti
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