ere would be an awful rumpus on the inside of the tent, with wild
howlings and the sound of revolvers shot off and a woman screaming. Then
I would come busting out all blacked up from head to heel with no more
clothes on than the law pervided fur, yipping loud and shaking a big
spear and rolling my eyes, and Watty would come rushing after me firing
his revolver. I would make fur the doctor and draw my spear back to jab
it clean through him, and Watty would grab my arm. And the doctor would
whirl round and they would wrastle me to the ground and I would be
handcuffed and dragged back into the tent, still howling and struggling
to break loose. On the inside my part of the show was to be wild in a
cage. I would be chained to the floor, and every now and then I would
get wilder and rattle my chains and shake the bars and make jumps at the
crowd and carry on, and make believe I was too mad to eat the pieces of
raw meat Watty throwed into the cage.

Watty had a snake-charmer woman, with an awful long, bony kind of neck,
working fur him, and another feller that was her husband and eat glass.
The show opened up with them two doing what they said was a comic turn.
Then the fat lady come on. Whilst everybody was admiring her size, and
looking at the number of pounds on them big cheat scales Watty weighed
her on, the long-necked one would be changing to her snake clothes.
Which she only had one snake, and he had been in the business so long,
and was so kind of worn out and tired with being charmed so much, it
always seemed like a pity to me the way she would take and twist him
around. I guess they never was a snake was worked harder fur the little
bit he got to eat, nor got no sicker of a woman's society than poor old
Reginald did. After Reginald had been charmed a while, it would be the
glass eater's turn. Which he really eat it, and the doctor says that
kind always dies before they is fifty. I never knowed his right name,
but what he went by was The Human Ostrich.

Watty's wife was awful jealous of Mrs. Ostrich, fur she got the idea
she was carrying on with Watty. One night I hearn an argument from the
fenced-off part of the tent Watty and his wife slept in. She was setting
on Watty's chest and he was gasping fur mercy.

"You know it ain't true," says Watty, kind of smothered-like.

"It is," says she, "you own up it is!" And she give him a jounce.

"No, darling," he gets out of him, "you know I never could bear them
thin, sc