A. boy ran across the ring, and the ball, which weighs a quarter of a pound, was coming right on him, and would have fallen on his head, and perhaps killed him, and I ran forward to save him, and couldn't take my aim proper, and it fell on my nose, and broke it. It bled awfully, and it kept on for near a month. At Newcastle I met with another accident with throwing the ball. It came down on my head, and it regularly stunned me, so that I fell down. In Ireland I used to make the people laugh, to throw up raw potatoes and let them come down on my naked forehead and smash.
People give more money when they laugh.
As you catch the ball in the cup, you are obliged to give, you know, and bend to it, or it would knock the brains out of you pretty well. I got married in Ireland, and then I started off with the booth and waggon, and she used to dance, and I'd juggle and balance. She's dead now, through drink. They never see such a thing in their lives, and we took money like dirt. That took away all the money I had saved.