with low neck and an apology for sleeves, who had just come out
from the tent whereon the picture of the Living Skeleton hung.

"Samuel," she screamed again, "come inside this minute, or you'll
catch your death o' cold, an' I shall have you wheezin' around with
the phthisic all night. Come in, Sam-u-el."

"That's her," said the skeleton to Toby, as he pointed his thumb
in the direction of the fat woman, but paying no attention to
the outcry she was making -- "that's my wife Lilly, an' she's the
Fat Woman of the show. She's always yellin' after me that way the
minute I get out for a little fresh air, an' she's always sayin'
just the same thing. Bless you, I never have the phthisic, but she
does awful; an' I s'pose 'cause she's so large she can't feel all
over her, an' thinks it's me that has it."

"Is -- is all that -- is that your wife?" stammered Toby, in
astonishment, as he looked at the enormously fat woman who stood in
the tent door, and then at the wonderfully thin man who sat beside
him.

"Yes, that's her," said the skeleton. "She weighs pretty nigh four
hundred, though of course the show cards says it's over six hundred,
an' she earns almost as much money as I do. Of course she can't
get so much, for skeletons is much scarcer than fat folks; but we
make a pretty good thing travelin' together."

"Sam-u-el!" again came the cry from the fat woman, "are you never
coming in?"