wagon.

The music ceased at my summons, and there appeared at the door, not
the sort of figure that I had mentally assigned to the wandering
showman, but a most respectable old personage, whom I was sorry to
have addressed in so free a style. He wore a snuff colored coat and
small-clothes, with white-top boots, and exhibited the mild dignity of
aspect and manner which may often be noticed in aged schoolmasters,
and sometimes in deacons, selectmen, or other potentates of that kind.
A small piece of silver was my passport within his premises, where I
found only one other person, hereafter to be described.

"This is a dull day for business," said the old gentleman, as he
ushered me in; "but I merely tarry here to refresh the cattle, being
bound for the camp-meeting at Stamford."

Perhaps the movable scene of this narrative is still peregrinating New
England, and may enable the reader to test the accuracy of my
description. The spectacle--for I will not use the unworthy term of
puppet-show--consisted of a multitude of little people assembled on a
miniature stage. Among them were artisans of every kind, in the
attitudes of their toil, and a group of fair ladies and gay gentlemen
standing ready for the dance; a company of foot-soldiers formed a line
across the stage, looking stern, grim, and terrible enough, to make it
a pleasant consideration that they were but three inches high; and
conspicuous above the whole was seen a Merry-Andrew, in the pointed
cap and motley coat of his profession. All the inhabitants of this
mimic world were motionless, like the figures in a picture, or like
that people who one moment were alive in the midst of their business
and delights, and the next were transformed to statues, preserving an