t
through the side of the tent yelling: "I've got 'em again. Catch me,
somebody."

We got out of town before morning, and nobody was arrested, except the
negroes that got run over in the chariot race.

CHAPTER XIX.

The Circus People Visit a Southern Plantation--Pa, the Giant and the
Fat Woman Are Chased by Bloodhounds--The Bad Boy "Runs the
Gauntlet."

Gee, but pa is sore at me. He has been disgusted with me before, but he
never had it in for me so serious as he has now. I guess the whole show
would breathe easier if I should fall off the train some dark night,
when it was stormy, and we were crossing a high bridge over a stream
that was out of its banks on account of a freshet.

It was all on account of our taking an afternoon off on a Sunday at
Richmond. An old planter that used to be in the circus business before
the war thought it would bring back old recollections to him and give us
a taste of country life in the south if he invited all of us,
performers, managers, freaks, and everything, to spend the day on his
plantation, and go nutting for chestnuts and hickory nuts, pick apples
and run them through a cider mill and drink self-made cider, and have a
good time.

We all appreciated the invitation, and after breakfast we rode out in
the country to his plantation in carriages and express wagons and began
to do the plantation. The fat lady and the midgets rode out together in
a load of cotton, and when they got to the house they had to be picked
like ducks, and they looked as though they had been tarred and
feathered.

The planter gave us a fine luncheon of fried chicken and corn pone, and
cider, and pa acted as the boss of the circus folks, while the planter
and his family, with about 100 negroes, passed things around. They all
seemed to be interested in seeing how much stuff the giant and the fat
lady could hold without putting up sideboards to keep the food from
falling off. If pa hadn't told the negroes not to feed the fat lady and
the giant any more, there would have been two circus funerals next day.

I got acquainted with a boy that was the planter's son, and while the
rest were eating and drinking the boy showed me a pack of hounds that
are kept for trailing criminals and negroes who have looked sassy at
white women. The trouble with negroes is that they all look alike, and
if one commits a crime they can prove an alibi, 'cause every last negro
will swear that at the time the c