nough to
admit of his falling down at full length. Then the good assassin
staggers in, and says he was hired in conjunction with the bad assassin,
by the wrongful heir, to kill the rightful heir; and he's killed a good
many people in his time, but he's very sorry for it, and won't do so any
more--a promise which he immediately redeems, by dying off hand without
any nonsense about it. Then the rightful heir throws down his chain; and
then two men, a sailor, and a young woman (the tenantry of the rightful
heir) come in, and the ghost makes dumb motions to them, which they, by
supernatural interference, understand--for no one else can; and the ghost
(who can't do anything without blue fire) blesses the rightful heir and
the young lady, by half suffocating them with smoke: and then a
muffin-bell rings, and the curtain drops.

The exhibitions next in popularity to these itinerant theatres are the
travelling menageries, or, to speak more intelligibly, the 'Wild-beast
shows,' where a military band in beef-eater's costume, with leopard-skin
caps, play incessantly; and where large highly-coloured representations
of tigers tearing men's heads open, and a lion being burnt with red-hot
irons to induce him to drop his victim, are hung up outside, by way of
attracting visitors.

The principal officer at these places is generally a very tall, hoarse
man, in a scarlet coat, with a cane in his hand, with which he
occasionally raps the pictures we have just noticed, by way of
illustrating his description--something in this way. 'Here, here, here;
the lion, the lion (tap), exactly as he is represented on the canvas
outside (three taps): no waiting, remember; no deception. The
fe-ro-cious lion (tap, tap) who bit off the gentleman's head last
Cambervel vos a twelvemonth, and has killed on the awerage three keepers
a-year ever since he arrived at matoority. No extra charge on this
account recollect; the price of admission is only sixpence.' This
address never fails to produce a considerable sensation, and sixpences
flow into the treasury with wonderful rapidity.

The dwarfs are also objects of great curiosity, and as a dwarf, a
giantess, a living skeleton, a wild Indian, 'a young lady of singular
beauty, with perfectly white hair and pink eyes,' and two or three other
natural curiosities, are usually exhibited together for the small charge
of a penny, they attract very numerous audiences. The best thing about a
dwarf is, that he ha