Hull to purchase the
shark, and he effected the bargain for 3 pounds 17s 6d. The shark was
seventeen feet in length; it was brought to Keighley by rail, and there
were many people to witness the landing of the monster. We took it to the
Burlington laithe (now used as an auction room by Mr T. S. Lister). I
painted a glowing scenic piece for the entrance to the
exhibition--picturing the shark swallowing a whole boat-load of people! I
was also put on to act as showman, and in that capacity--not in my
capacity as a private citizen--I told stories of the voracious appetite
of the shark when alive. Many blankets had been found in the shark, not
to mention a barrel or two of beer. Leach stood at the door turning a box
organ, which we had bought cheaply; and David Hey undertook to look after
the naphtha lamps, &c. Well, for a week the show went on very well, and
we had large numbers of visitors. Towards the end of the week, the fish
began to smell, so we paid Joseph Gott, taxidermist, Market-street, 5
pounds to cure the shark. In the meantime we purchased a tent and
additional naphtha lamps, and when the curing process was completed, and
we had had a box made in which to place the shark, we started on our
first expedition, going to Haworth. Our visit here was attended by a
slight misfortune. We had got the tent pitched, and a good audience in
it, when one of the naphtha lamps exploded and set fire to the canvas
top. Luckily we succeeded in extinguishing the flames before they had
done more than burn a hole in the canvas top; and the aperture was
covered with a shawl, which my friend Leach was wearing. As on the
occasion of my visit to Haworth in the garb of a monkey, with Jack
Spencer, the Haworth folk thought it a joke, and swore that the shark
"wor made o' leather." But after they had examined it, I think they were
convinced it was the real thing. We next took the show to Clayton, and
here we were unable to get lodgings, and had to sleep in the tent along
with the shark. Before daybreak we were leaving Clayton for Vicar's
Croft, Leeds. It was moonlight, and I shall never forget an incident
which happened on the way. Certainly we must have formed a very curious
spectacle. A grey galloway and cart, with Dave Hey as driver; myself on
the cart balancing the long box; and James Leach sitting with the box
organ on his back. Leach saw our shadow in the strong moonlight, and
rather astonished us by exclaiming--"There's Bill o' th' Hoy