much as a number of the persons alluded to in this narrative are
still living.

[H] It is not generally known among "outsiders," that circus people and
actors are in the habit of using among themselves a sort of flash
language which enables them to converse about professional and other
affairs without being understood by outside listeners. If I had room, I
could relate many amusing anecdotes under this head. "_Stag his knibbs_"
signifies "_Look at him_."

CHAPTER VI

_In which is introduced a celebrated Comedian from the Theatre Royal,
Drury Lane, London._

The next morning, bright and early, "two travellers might have been
seen" crossing one of the ponderous bridges that lead over the
Schuylkill from Philadelphia to the opposite shore. The one was a stout
young cavalier, arrayed in fustian brown; the other was a pretty youth,
attired in broadcloth blue, and brilliant was his flashing eye, and
coal-black was his hair. By my troth, good masters, a fairer youth ne'er
touched the light guitar within the boudoir of my lady.

"Now, by my knightly oath," quoth he in fustian brown, "my soul expands
in the soft beauty of this rosy morn, my blood dances merrily through
every vein, and I feel like eating a thundering good breakfast at the
next hostelrie.--What sayest _thou_, fair youth?"

"Of a truth, Sir George," quoth he in broadcloth blue, in a voice of
liquid melody, "I am hungered, and would gladly sit me down before a
flagon of coffee, and a goodly platter of ham and eggs."

"Bravely spoken," quoth the stout young cavalier, with watering mouth;
and then, relapsing into silence, the train journeyed onward.

Soon they paused before a goodly hostelrie, which bore upon its swinging
signboard the device of "The Pig and the Snuffers."

"What ho, within there! House, house, I say!" hastily roared the youth
in fustian brown, as he vigorously applied his cowhide boot to the door
of the inn.

Forth came mine host of the Pig and Snuffers--a jovial knave and a right
merry one, I ween, with mighty paunch and nose of ruby red. Now, by the
rood! a funnier knight than this same Rupert Harmon, ne'er drew a
foaming tankard of nut-brown ale, or blew a cloud from a short pipe in a
chimney corner.

"Welcome, my masters--a right good welcome," quoth the fat host of the
Pig and Snuffers.

"Bestir thyself, knave," quoth the cove in fustian brown, as he entered
the inn followed by the pretty youth in broadcloth blue--"beshrew