o be carried off by the aid of
the ever-ready pincers.

Next came a hurdle-race. Hurdles of thin silver wire were arranged, over
which two fleas were supposed to leap. One, however, was evidently very
lazy or very cunning, as it won the last race by crawling under the
wire.

A clown flea now appeared in the ring, and crawled about in a comical
manner with a white clown's cap on its diminutive head. A moment later
out came a number of fleas all harnessed with gold wire trappings, and
the several vehicles were taken from the stables. There was a tally-ho
coach, smaller than a very small pea, an Eskimo sled, about a quarter of
an inch long, with wire runners, a trotting sulky, evidently made from
hair or bristles, and other gorgeous equipages. The tally-ho team of
four frantic fleas, evidently fiery steeds, was harnessed to the coach,
and on the top were placed four phlegmatic fleas that had probably been
booked as outsiders, while the insides were two others fleas, which, we
are sorry to say, were obliged to get in through the window, and acted
very much as if they wished to get out again. The other vehicles were
each provided with a steed and rider, and then all were drawn up in a
row. At the word of command, off they started pell-mell! The tally-ho
leaders evidently jumped their traces at first, but finally they were
off with a rush, running over the clown, knocking off his hat, and, for
the moment, creating a dreadful panic. The sled team threw its driver,
and the sulky ran away, the flea trotter actually leaping into the air,
sulky and all. But order was soon restored, and as the track was
arranged on the downhill principle, the racers made rapid time. In two
minutes the circuit was completed, the tally-ho coming in ahead,
without, however, its outside passengers, who were thrown off as the
coach was rounding the curve, and at once crawled into the nearest place
of refuge.

[Illustration: SIGNOR PULEX IRRITANICI ON THE TIGHT-ROPE.]

The last act of this wonderful circus was perhaps the best. The manager
arranged the stage by placing two very fine entomological pins about
four inches apart, connecting them by a slender silver wire, and then
announced that Signor _Pulex Irritanici_, the world-renowned tight-rope
performer, would attempt his wonderful feat of dancing upon the wire at
a "dizzy height" (compared to the size of the performer). The Signor was
then brought out in a small bottle of cut-glass; his only orna