as a tobacco-box in his mouth, the monkey could not
do very much in the way of performing, so the return was made to the
Fleece Inn Garret. People--particularly the disappointed owner of the
tobacco-box--followed us down, and by opening-time we had

A DENSELY-CROWDED HOUSE

The old fiddler--a host in himself--was the orchestra. He knew about
three tunes, and these he played o'er and o'er. I forgot to mention that
we had not an appointed door-keeper, or cashier, so I undertook that
superior office myself. "My word," said some of the people as they came
in, "just lewk at that monkey; it's t'moast remarkable monkey et ivver
wor knawn i' Howarth; it's soa mich sense woll it can tak t'brass at
t'door." Well, the house became so crowded that there was scarcely any
room left for us to perform. The time for commencing arrived, and we
appeared before the curtain, though we felt at a great loss to know how
we were going to manage to perform in the space there was left; for it
must be known that we did actually intend to give a performance. We had
gone through a few "feats"--Spencer lifting and performing with 56lb.
weights, and I doing a few tricks at tight-rope walking and dancing.
Spencer was behind the curtain waiting his "turn," and when I retired he
said: "It's no good; we cannot give satisfaction here."

THE VANISHING TRICK

"There isn't room for you to work, never tell of me;" adding, "You had
better go and get you right clothes on. Bring the drum and all our
belongings you can get hold on, and slip out at the back door the best
way that you can." I obeyed. The "orchestra" was discoursing diverting
music. I went down to exchange monkey for man, so to speak, and, this
done, and having collected our properties, I made my way, happily
undetected, out of the house, and cut across the fields. Weighed down as
I was with the copper taken at the door, and in my anxiety to look after
everything and get away as fast as I could, I let the drum slip from my
grasp. It rolled down a steep field, and for a short time I had a fine
chase after it. "But where was Jack Spencer?" readers will be wondering.
Yes; I had forgot all about Jack for the minute. As he afterwards told
me, he got away all right except for a little mishap which befell him
just after he had left the place. Opposite the Fleece Inn was a
cartwright's shop (I believe the shop is there now), and behind the wall
skirting the roadway was placed an old cart. Spen