of all they saw—Uncle Adam's house and garden,
Uncle Adam's pony-chaise, and, they were pleased
to say, Uncle Adam's agreeable society, that I
should have been more than man if my heart
had not speedily found itself riddled through and
through.

" And now, uncle, since we mean to stay till
to-morrow, how do you mean to amuse us ?"

Of course, I would have done anything in
reason, have given them a tea drinking; but that
would have driven my housekeeper crazy; or a
pic-nic, but ours is the identical part of the country
when the traveller asking " Does it always rain?"
was answered " Na, na, whiles it snaws." Or
I would have invited half a dozen young men for
them to flirt with — but there never are any
young men in our town — besides, I dislike
flirtation. I like a man or woman to fall honestly
in love and stick to it, quite ready either to
marry or to die, as might be most expedient.
But people neither marry for love, nor die for it,
now-a-days. Which is rather a falling off, I
opine.

But to the point. I could not allow my
visitors to waste their sweetness on my desert
air, and gay and pleasant as they always were, I
fancied towards nightfall they began to weary.

"I'll tell you what, girls," said I, driven to
sudden desperation by the youngest's proposing
Readings from Young's Night Thoughts, and
Pollok's Course of Time, by way of passing the
evening, " I'll take you to the circus."

I saw a slight smile flit over three of the six
pretty—well, the six nice-looking faces—for
pleasant women always look nice to me.
Certainly it was a long way to come from London to
go to a circus in a small country town in
Scotland.

But I assured them it was a most talented
company, which had been in the town three
months, and the troupe were highly respectable
people (indeed, I had attended one of them
professionally, but I did not think it necessary to
state this). Moreover, I had been there myself
with a small patient who wanted a treat, and had
enjoyed the evening as much as the child did.
In short, as I told them, if my "nieces," though
such stylish young ladies, would only condescend
to make themselves children for the nonce, to
take pleasure in innocent childish folly (there
was a most capital "fool," by-the-by), I would
answer for it they would be exceedingly well
amused.

So they put on hats and shawls — no need of
white gloves and opera cloaks here — and off we
sallied, through the cool bright autumn evening
to the quiet street where the circus was, a large
wooden, temporary building. I had passed it often
on my walks into town, but took little notice of
it, and no interest in it; according to the
commonly received fact, that one half the world
neither knows nor cares how the other half lives—
till my accidental visit lately.

Since then I had often paused to listen in
passing to the sounds within, the band playing,
and the horses galloping; to wonder if that
bonnie bit girlie were still bounding through the
flower-enwreathed hoops, and that agile boy
turning somersaults after her, both on their
"fiery steeds." Above all, what sort of thing was
that " Wondrous performance of Signor Uberto
on the Flying Trapeze," which had been
announced night after night as the climax of attracion.

Poor Signor Uberto! it was him whom I had
been doctoring; he had had a sore hand, which
incapacitated him from professional duty. He
seemed a very quiet respectable young fellow,
and his name was John Stone. Of course
I did not think it necessary to tell all this to my
satirical young ladies; besides, a doctor's
confidence should be always sacred, be his patient a
circus performer or a king.

We produced quite a sensation when we
entered; such a large and distinguished party,
who monopolised the reserved seats, and
represented seven half-crowns of honest British
money. On the strength of which, I suppose,
we received seven distinct bows from the gentleman
who took it, a very fierce, be-whiskered,
hippo-dramatic individual indeed. I knew him,
though I hoped he did not recognise me. He
was the Herr von Stein, proprietor and manager
of the troupe, and Signor Uberto' s father. It
had been privately confided to me that " old
Stone," as he was called in private life, was as
hard as a flint, and he looked it. He grasped
the half-crowns as if they were pound-notes, or
twenty-pound notes, and crammed them into his
pocket immediately.

The performances had already begun. From
boxes and gallery were stretched out a mass of
those honest eager faces which always make a
minor theatre, or an accidental dramatic
entertainment in the provinces, so very amusing. At
least to me, who have seen so much of the dark
side of life, that I like to see people happy, even
for an hour, in any innocent way. There is a strong
feeling in Scotland against "play-acting," but
apparently the prejudice did not extend to
quadrupedal performances, for I noticed a large
gathering of the working and trading class in
our town, with their wives and families. All
were intently watching the careering round and
round that magic " ring" of two beautiful horses,
ridden by a boy and girl in the character of the
"Highland Laddie and Lassie."

Ridden did I say? It was more like floating,
flying, dancing—in and out, up and down—
twirling and attitudinising in one another's arms
—changing horses — galloping wildly, both on one
horse. The boy was slim and graceful—the girl—
why, she was a perfect little fairy, with her white
frock, her tartan scarf, and the hood tying back
her showers of light curly hair, that tossed, and
whirled, and swirled, in all directions. Whether
she stood, knelt, balanced herself on one leg, or
wreathed herself about, in the supple way that
these gymnasts do, she was equally picturesque.
Not over-like an Highland lassie, such as