nd found)
as Mr. Robbins' man of all work.

Alice and I have feared that Rufe's influence might not be beneficial
to the children. It pains us to observe that Josephine has learned to
ride a padded horse and to leap with surprising certainty through a
hoop and over a banner. Erasmus does not disguise his intention of
joining a circus when he reaches the age of maturity, and I happened to
overhear Rufe remark the other day that our daughter Fanny, with just a
leetle more practice, would make a ne plus ultra snake-charmer and
knife-thrower. Mr. Robbins has laughed at our solicitude; he tells us
that these are the vagarious fancies and exuberant whims of youth and
that they will duly die out. This is really very consoling to me, for
I can conceive of nothing else more humiliating than the spectacle of
our beloved Josephine flaunting around a circus ring upon the back of a
fat horse and attired in shockingly scanty raiment. It would break his
mother's heart if Erasmus were to diverge from that course in theology
which she has mapped out and were to embark in the picturesque
profession of turning somersaults in public. Our family reputation
would surely be irreparably damaged if our Fanny were to be beguiled
into the fascinating but hazardous arts of a snake-charmer and a
knife-thrower! Heaven send that our fears be dissipated by future
events!

And yet, full of temptations and of misery as I believe the career of a
circus performer to be, I am entertained and instructed by neighbor
Robbins' recital of his exploits and experiences, and I am deeply
stirred by his narrative of the adventures he had in the capture of
those same wild beasts which now embellish his expansive estate in
Clarendon Avenue. Indeed, a peculiar interest is now attached by me to
each particular beast, for I have heard Mr. Robbins tell how in their
native jungles or on their native pampas or in their native lagoons or
among their native rocky fastnesses he sought and found and
comprehended the lemurs, the bisons, the alligators, the rackaboars,
and the other marvels of zooelogy.

It is very pleasant, I can assure you, to listen to tales of adventure
while one is engaged at the somewhat prosaic task of trimming a lilac
bush or of weeding the pansy bed. Whenever he discovers me at this
kind of toil neighbor Robbins comes over and leans up against a tree
and beguiles the tedium of labor with a bit of personal experience. I
can't begin to tell y