advertisement. He whispered in her ear. Next thing I knew she clasped
her hands together, let out a scream and runs up and grabs the
celebrated British poet round the neck.

"Booth!" says she. "My husband! Saved! Saved!"

And she went all to pieces and cried all over his necktie. And then
Marks trots up the child, and that young one hollers: "Papa! papa!" and
tackles Hank around the legs. And I'm blessed if Montague don't slap his
hand to his forehead, and toss back his curls, and look up at the sky,
and sing out: "My wife and babe! Restored to me after all these years!
The heavens be thanked!"

Well, 'twas a sacred sort of time. The town folks tiptoed away, the men
looking solemn but glad, and the women swabbing their deadlights and
saying how affecting 'twas, and so on. Oh, you could see that show would
do business THAT night, if it never did afore.

The manager got after Jonadab and me later on, and did his best to pump
us, but he didn't find out much. He told us that Montague belonged to
the Uncle Tom's Cabin Company, and that he'd disappeared a fortni't or
so afore, when they were playing at Hyannis. Eva was his wife, and the
child was their little boy. The bloodhounds knew him, and that's why
they chased him so.

"What was you two yelling 'Stop thief!' after him for?" says he. "Has he
stole anything?"

We says "No."