asked me how I was going to open this jack pot, to come down in front of
the seats and lead in the singing, for I know by his voice, which I
heard in debate, that he is a crackerjack," and the preacher took hold
of the handle of the blue gun and Big Ike walked down through the rows
of seats, and as the melodeon began to squawk, Ike got down in front of
the audience, and some of the boys said: "Bully for you, Ike," and after
scratching his head a minute Ike turned and walked towards the preacher,
at the edge of the ring, and I thought there was going to be the worst
fight ever was, and as the preacher reached for the gun I crawled under
the seat, and peeked out between the legs of a fat man, but Ike walked
up to the minister and said, as the melodeon began to cough: "Boys, this
tune is on Ike." He started it and every man sang.

[Illustration: After Scratching His Head a Minute, Ike Turned and Walked
Toward the Preacher.]

When it was ended the boys clapped and stamped for an encore, and they
sang it through again, and the face of the preacher beamed with joy, and
I saw there was not going to be any fight and I crawled out from under
the seats.

Pa came in the tent just then, with a new suit of clothes on, having
been discharged from the hospital as cured of yellow fever, and I gave
him my seat, and he held me in his lap.

The preacher then preached a sermon that did them all good. He dwelt
upon the hard life of the showman, and gave them such good advice that
when it was all over and he said he wanted to shake hands with every man
in the bunch, Ike marshaled them all up to the ring and introduced them,
and no minister ever was more cordially congratulated, and they wanted