editors--editors, gentleMEN--Mr. ---, of the Cleveland ---, and Mr.
---, of the Detroit ---, and they say it is the gerratist show they
ever seed in their born days!"

[Nothing but the tip ends of the editors' coat-tails could be seen
when the showman concluded this speech.]

A smart-looking chap was doing a brisk business with a gambling
contrivance. Seeing two policemen approach, he rapidly and
ingeniously covered the dice up, mounted his table, and shouted:

"Ere's the only great show on the grounds! The highly trained and
performing Mud Turtle with nine heads and seventeen tails, captured
in a well-fortified hencoop, after a desperate struggle, in the
lowlands of the Wabash!"

The facetious wretch escaped.

A grave, ministerial-looking and elderly man in a white choker had a
gift-enterprise concern. "My friends," he solemnly said, "you will
observe that this jewellery is elegant indeed, but I can afford to
give it away, as I have a twin brother seven years older than I am,
in New York City, who steals it a great deal faster than I can give
it away. No blanks, my friends--all prizes--and only fifty cents a
chance. I don't make anything myself, my friends--all I get goes to
aid a sick woman--my aunt in the country, gentlemen--and besides I
like to see folks enjoy themselves!"

The old scamp said all this with a perfectly grave countenance.