The Young Acrobat of the Great North American Circus. Alger Horatio Jr.

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СКАЧАТЬ but he has never told me."

      "He has told me, but I am not at liberty to say anything," said Ralph, looking mysterious.

      "I think I ought to be the first to be told," said Kit, not unreasonably.

      "You will be told soon. There is one thing I can tell you, however. You are not to go back to boarding school on Monday."

      Kit paused in the street, and gazed at his companion in surprise.

      "Are you going back?" he asked.

      "Yes; I'm going to keep on till I am ready for college."

      "And what is to be done with me?"

      Ralph shrugged his shoulders.

      "I am not at liberty to tell you," he answered.

      "I shall ask my uncle this very day."

      "Just as you please."

      Kit walked on in silence. His mind was busy with thoughts of the change in his prospects. He did not know what was coming, but he was anxious. It was likely to be a turning point in his life, and he was apprehensive that the information soon to be imparted to him would not be of an agreeable nature.

      CHAPTER II.

      INTRODUCES THREE CURIOSITIES

      Stephen Watson, uncle of Kit and father of Ralph, was a man of middle age. It was difficult to trace any resemblance between him and his nephew. The latter had an open face, with a bright, attractive expression. Mr. Watson was dark and sallow, of spare habit, and there was a cunning look in his eyes, beneath which a Roman nose jutted out like a promontory. He looked like the incarnation of cold selfishness, and his real character did not belie his looks.

      Five years before Kit Watson's father had died. He resembled Kit in appearance, and was very popular in Smyrna. His brother wound up the estate, and had since been living in luxury, but whether the property was his or his nephew's Kit was unable to tell. He had asked the question occasionally, but his uncle showed a distaste for the subject, and gave evasive replies.

      What Kit had just heard made him anxious, and he resolved to attack his uncle once more. After dinner, therefore, he began:

      "Uncle Stephen, Ralph tells me I am not going back to school on Monday."

      "Ralph speaks correctly," Mr. Watson replied in a measured voice.

      "But why am I not to go?"

      "I will explain before the time comes."

      "Can you not tell me now? I am anxious to know."

      "You must curb your curiosity. You will know in good time."

      Kit regarded his uncle in silence. He wished to know what had caused this remarkable change, but it seemed useless to ask any more questions.

      The next morning he and Dan Clark, according to agreement, met in front of Stoddard's store.

      "I had hard work to get away," said Dan. "Let us go right over to the circus grounds."

      These were located about a third of a mile from the hotel, in a large twenty-acre pasture. The lot, as it was called, was a scene of activity. A band of canvas men were busily engaged in putting up the big tent. Several elephants were standing round, and the cages of animals had already been put in place inside the rising tent.

      On a bench outside sat a curious group, comprising Achilles Henderson, the great Scotch giant, who was set down on the bills as eight feet three inches in height, and was really about seven feet and a half; Major Conrad, the dwarf, who was about the size of an average child of three years, and Madame Celestina Morella, the queen of fat women, who was credited on the bills with a weight of five hundred and eighty seven pounds. She was certainly massive, but probably fell short a hundred and fifty pounds of these elephantine proportions.

      Kit and Dan paused to look at this singular trio.

      "I wonder how much pay they get?" said Dan, turning to Kit.

      "I saw in some paper that the fat woman gets fifty dollars a week."

      "That's pretty good pay for being fat, Kit."

      "Would you be willing to be as fat for that money?"

      "I think not," said Dan, "though it's a good deal more than I get now."

      They were standing near the bench on which the three were seated. Achilles, who looked good-natured, as most big men are, addressed the boys.

      "Well, boys, are you coming to see the show?"

      "Yes," answered both.

      "I used to like to myself when I was a boy. I didn't expect then I should ever travel with one."

      "Were you very large as a boy?" asked Dan, with curiosity.

      "When I was twelve years old I was six feet high, and people generally thought then that I was eighteen. I thought perhaps I shouldn't grow any more, but I kept on. When I was sixteen I was seven feet tall, and by twenty I had reached my present height."

      "Are you eight feet three inches tall, Mr. Henderson?"

      "Is that what the bills say?"

      "Yes."

      "Then it must be so," he said with a smile.

      "How long have you been traveling with the circus?"

      "Five years."

      "How do you like it?"

      "It's a good deal easier than working on a farm, especially in Vermont, where I was born and bred."

      "But they call you the Scotch giant."

      "It sounds well, doesn't it? My father was born in Scotland, but my mother was a Vermont Yankee. You know Americans are more willing to pay for a foreign curiosity than for one home born. That's why my great friend here"—emphasizing the word great—"calls herself Madame Celestina Morella."

      The fat lady smiled.

      "People think I am French or Italian," she said, "but I never was out of the United States in my life."

      "Where were you born, Madame Morella?"

      "In the western part of New York State. I know what you are going to ask me. Was I always fat? No, when I was sixteen I only weighed one hundred and twenty. Then I had a fit of sickness and nearly died. After recovering, I began to gain flesh, till I became a monster, as you see."

      As she said this, she laughed, and her fat sides shook with merriment. Evidently she did not let her size weigh upon her mind.

      "I suppose your real name isn't Celestina Morella?" said Kit.

      "My real name is Betsey Hatch. That is what they called me in my girlhood, but I should hardly know who was meant if I was called so now."

      "Have you been long in the show business?"

      "About seven years."

      "Do you like it?"

      "I СКАЧАТЬ