Then, catching Joe's eyes, and moving warily to the tent-mouth, he added, chuckling,
"The coves 'ave sent in a claim for five hundred francs damages. That'll teach Mister Jim to set me drivin' 'is blasted tableaux."
And off he swaggered to tell the tale of his prowess to the coons and around the horse-tents.
***
6 p.m.—When we came in to tea, after the day-show, we found Scottie, busy before a cracked mirror combing his sandy locks. He looked more unkempt than ever; his face was streaming, for he had been helping to drag the lions' cage out of the ring, and the stubble of a three days' beard covered his chin. When Maggie asked him to build up a table for us, he retorted excitedly: "Can ye na see that I'm busy?" and recommenced desperately the parting of his hair.
"What's up, Pimples, going courtin'?" asked the lieutenant.
"I'm engaged to conduct a party o' ladies round the establishment. I'll be standin' you boys drinks at the buffy when I git back."
He hurried off, clapping the "lieutenant's" forage-cap on the back of his head. Presently we heard him grandiloquently pushing back the crowd of loafers, and at the tent-mouth we caught a fluttering glimpse of white skirts and lace parasols.
"This, ladies," Scottie began, stroking poor old Jim's inoffensive trunk, "this elephant be two hundred and thirty year of age. He's often very ferocious, as yer kin see by the red in his eye. It takes fifty powerful men to hold him when he's fashed. Over there, ladies, the handsome gent with the moustache, sitting on the hay, that's Mr. Lieutenant George Armstrong, the cele-
