portion of our time in obtaining knowledge. His Worship
and myself were twin companions, I may say, being both born on the same
day--March 22nd, 1836.

AMONG THE HAND WOOLCOMBERS

I spent a good deal of time in my youth in the workshops of the
woolcombers in our locality, as, I believe, Ira Ickringill did. Hand
woolcombers, by-the-bye, were rare hands (no pun) at telling tales, and I
listened to these with great relish. With all my boyish pranks, I was
generally a favourite among the combers. There used to be an Irishman
named Peter O'Brady who lived not far from our house. His wife was a good
singer, and what is more, she had a varied selection of good old Irish
and Scotch songs. She was occasionally good enough to sing for me. This
woman taught me the song "Shan Van Vocht," and other Irish Gaelic songs.

LEARNING TO BE AN ACROBAT

A visit to Pablo Franco's circus, which came to Keighley, led me into the
belief that with a little practice I should make a passable trapezist, or
tight-rope walker. So when I got home the first thing I did was to
procure some rope &c. With this apparatus I constructed a kind of trapeze
and tight-rope in my bed chamber. I used to practice nightly just before
jumping into bed. But my ambition was one night somewhat damped, when I
fell from the bar and hurt myself. This small beginning ended badly for
me; for my father learned that part of his homestead had been converted
into a circus; he was, or pretended to be, greatly displeased with the
discovery, and he straightway cut down the ropes and things. Then I had
to find some other means of following up my practice. When you once start
a thing it's always best to go on with it. So I got a lad about the same
age as myself into my confidence, and one Saturday we resolved to have a
night's "circusing" on our own account in a barn. We had had a fair round
of trapezing, rope walking, turning somersaults and the like--wearing
special costumes, you know, for the occasion--when in the wee sma' hours
of the morning the old farmer, who claimed the ownership of our
circus--in other words barn--suddenly came upon us. He had evidently
heard us going through our rehearsal. His unannounced appearance startled
Jack and myself very much indeed. The old farmer bade us in language
certainly more forcible than polite--to "Come down, ye rascals." Jack and
I naturally hesitated a little, but that irritated the farmer, and he
said that if we wouldn't