thing by cartin' the bones of hosses and sheep out there, and
sellin' 'em to intelligent American towerists. Takin' a
perfessional view of this dodge, I must say that it betrays
genius of a lorfty character.

It reminded me of a inspired feet of my own. I used to
exhibit a wax figger of HENRY WILKINS, the Boy Murderer.
HENRY had, in a moment of inadvertence, killed his Uncle
EPHRAM and walked off with the old man's money. Well, this
stattoo was lost somehow, and not sposin' it would make any
particler difference I substitooted the full-grown stattoo of
one of my distinguished piruts for the Boy Murderer. One
night I exhibited to a poor but honest audience in the town of
Stoneham, Maine. "This, ladies and gentlemen," said I,
pointing my umbrella (that weapon which is indispensable to
every troo American) to the stattoo, "this is a life-like wax
figger of the notorious HENRY WILKINS, who in the dead of
night murdered his Uncle EPHRAM in cold blood. A sad warning
to all uncles havin' murderers for nephews. When a mere child
this HENRY WILKINS was compelled to go to the Sunday-school.
He carried no Sunday-school book. The teacher told him to go
home and bring one. He went and returned with a comic song-
book. A depraved proceedin'."

"But," says a man in the audience, "when you was here before
your wax figger represented HENRY WILKINS as a boy. Now,
HENRY was hung, and yet you show him to us now as a full-grown
man! How's that?"

"The figger has growd, sir--it has growd," I said.