, 1872-01-29
Making it Even.

led my art in nearly every menagerie i
the country. and 50 have come in COZ
tact with strange people and have see
uncommon sights; and thus it was ths
in order to draw at my leisure som
newly arrived creature with the wild
ness of the desert and the jungle sti
within them, I joined a travelling com
pany for the summer, and so beheld tn
thrilling scene I here record.
The owner of the show was a good
natured soul Of the rolling stone sort
who never gathered as much moss as b
deserved, and yet allowed no fungus @
funds to interfere with social FELLOWSHIP,
Or kindly action; and consequent,
the people about him worked with
friendly will, and except during the ne
cessary journeying and labor there wer,
generally jolly times among the EN-
ployes Of the Grand Unrivalled Cosmo
politan Menagerie. There was only on'
man who never larked and never sang
never joked and never grumbled; wht
was always silent without being surly
took his share of things to do and seem
ed to set himself apart from his com
rades in sheer loneliness of spirit; III
shirked no toll and yielded no conf
dence. Gradually it fell upon him, as
from his own choice, to attend the cages
and to perform all the jobs that the
boldest sometimes shrank from as dan.
gerous, though he showed no signs Of
fear, and evinced no distaste at his ex-
ceptionabie employment. I watched
him often as he busted himself about
the beasts, and had to admire in this
common-looking and uncultivated man
the unconscious GOODNESS and courage
with which he accomplished his self-ap-
propriated tasks. At Length my curios-
ity concerning him was sufficiently ex-
cited to ask Mr.. Kingsley, the proprie-
tor of the menagerie, if he knew any
thing more of him than what appeared
on his day surface.
Mr.. Kingsley hesitated moment be-
fore he answered and then slowly said:
+" I am rather sorry you questioned me
about Quiet B II that's what the men
call him. you know-for no one else has
cared to guess that there may be more
connected with him than just the bust
ness he seems to belong to-; and of all
the folks in this caravansary he and
are the only ones that know what he
was before he came here; and if I tell
you, it is just because you see the mans
a man for a. that and because I know
you'll keep the secret. I don't suppose
you remember, as the papers are SO full
of murders nowadays, one that was
committed years ago in the county
town of c.. Not cold-blooded
atrocity, though, but the result of jeal-
ousy, provocations and liquor, and not
altogether unjustifable either. Bill was
the chap did it, and only escaped hang
ing through smart lawyer, and got off
in about the same way that not proven
sets a man free from Scotch trial.
But the people where he lived would
have nothing to do with him; and he
strayed among them like an outlaw, for
he had neither the money nor chance to
run away and could scarcely geta stroke
Of work that would earn his daily bread.
was head of a small circus then-not
such a stunning concern as this on hand
now; and when we put up the tent for a
single day at C., this Bill watched
an opportunity to get me alone, when no
one else would notice him, and told me
his whole story begging me to give him
something to do to keep him from starv-
ing or suicide; and be had such hunt
ed down and woe begone look that 1
could not help pitying the poor fellow;
and though ! wasn't very able to take
another hand just then, Igave him what
change could spare, and told him to
slip off to the next town and join us
there, so that the rest of my men
shouldn't know anything about his his
tory and chat him about the past-for
they are rough lot sometimes and not
over particular about hurting feelings
either in sport or spite. And SO he has
been along with me ever since. I have
had hold of several ventures besides
that and this, but make or fail, pay or
put of, Bill has stuck by me through
all. There is real grit as well as use in
him, and I have seen it sharply tried
more than once and have never been
sorry 1 gave him helping hand in his
need. But it often seems to me, though
he never speaks Of it, that he always
thinks he is serving out his time for
that old affair by taking up the hardest
things he can find to do; for l do be-
lieve he has on his mind some rude
idea of personal atonement for the
blood he shed. And now you know all
hare to tell. Do net let It speak out