after sentence of New Orleans French Market
French. Janet turned red, then pale. She hurriedly inquired as to
whether Uncle Tom understood French. When assured he did not, she
elevated her hands in thankfulness.

Uncle Tom adhered to the custom of family worship. One morning Uncle
Tom's prayer was very long. Polly, evidently--like others of the
family--was hungry, but, unlike them, did not have the politeness to
conceal it. Stretching her wings to the fullest width, craning her neck,
in a bored tone she squeaked: "O-h h-e-l-l. Give us a rest." There was
no suppressing the laughter. Polly laughed too. Uncle Tom smiled
faintly. Alfred pretended to chastise the bird, raising the feather
duster over her. Polly began a tirade that all the family understood. It
must have sounded to Uncle Tom something like this: "Go to
hell-go-to-hell-all-of-you. Get-to-hell-out-of-yere-dam-you,
dam-you-all. Polly's-sick-poor-Polly. Chippy-get-your-hair-cut-hair-cut.
Oh-hell."

Many were the arguments and interchanges of opinions as between Alfred
and Uncle Tom. The younger man never mentioned the old days at home, he
was more anxious to have the uncle refer to them. Many years had elapsed
and Alfred surmised the uncle had forgotten events that were
ineffaceably impressed upon his own memory. The uncle and nephew, held
many long conversations. One night while alone the uncle took Alfred
aback a bit, when he very abruptly inquired as to whether he was
satisfied with his profession--his life. "I can see you are well fixed
and financial success has come to you. But, are you satisfied with your
life? Would you live the same life over again?"

"Uncle in the main, I am satisfied with my life. There are many things
that I would prefer to forget and there are many things I hope to
remember. As a boy, I was ambitious to become a circus clown." The uncle
smiled. "This at first, was a boy's whim, an illusion. That ambition was
based entirely upon a desire to acquire sufficient money to make me
comfortable. It was a boyish fancy at the beginning but some of the
happiest days of my life were when I wore the motley and endeavored to
spread gladness as a circus clown.

"To see others enjoying themselves, to hear and see folks laugh, is one
of the greatest pleasures to me in this life. But I am sorry I did not
become something other than a showman." The old minister looked at
Alfred in amazement. "I will always retain most pleasant recollections
of the