THE SHOWAN'S STORY.

Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 407, 25 February 1904, Page 7

THE SHOWAN'S STORY.

We spread our picnic-cloth that glorious June day on the cool patch of shadow cast by the tinker's caravan. The ragged uxchinß of the encampment stood near, staring at ua as we ate, with envy in their eyes. A look of joy unspeakably beamed in their young faces when w&* asked them to join us, and the little gourmands stuffed themselves with good things till they refused to be further tempted. ' I take this to fadder,' said the littlest, dirtiest mfte. as he snatched a great slice of seed cake and hid it under his ragged jacket. 'I take this to fadder, 'cos fadders tick/ •What's wrong with himP* I asked, and bis elder sister emptied her mcuth to say: * Queer and shivery, an' cries «Eh!' when he 3tands. There's been no Bhow on for a week come Monday. Fe fell off Sally on the'ring at what'e-its-name.' ♦Can I see himP r I asked, filling the young lady's lap with broken bread. «Suppose so,' said she, with a quick curtsy, • I'll ax Nell—that's my sißter.' ! The interview was soon arranged. In no time I was ushered into the presence of the prostrate showman. He had been warned of my coming and vainly tried to rise as I entered. Bafc he lay back apain holding out a great brown hand to me, 'Come in, young gent,' he said, as a painful expression darted across his bronzed facß, ' Excuse me. but ay back hurts so. It is an awkward job altogether, so simple done too. 1 knew .the trick by heart—have done it from a boy, and Sally, my ring-horse, is as sure as shed hoof can be. True, I was not up to the mark, but I cannot think jet how I slipped. There was a big crowd—market night. I had done the turn once— a simple hoop trick with somersault, and land on bare back; easy as drinking small beer. Well, they cheered and cheered—and you know how country folk well pruned can cheer—so I went to do it again. I put on muscle, took the wheel and—well, I don't know more. When I came to myself, I was lying where you see me now, cramped all over, and as if a dozen knives was digging in my flesh. So here I am, pretty bad, but getting on.' He pressed his hand on his spine as he spoke.

• What of the Bhow P' he answered, in reply to my question, '.well, the shutters are up, that's all. I have not spread a yard of canvas for near a week. Yes, it • comes hard, with half a baker's dozen of young mouths gaping for a crust, but we must an' thole, as my Scotch strapper used to say. If s a mercy that things are not wcrse. Younger and nimbler men than me bas crossed the chalk-line 'twixt here and kingdom-come for want of a bit of heel-and-hand rosin grit before now. Gilt Gregor (leastways that was his bin-

name—we knew him as'Bobby 1 ) was (he finest bare-backrider as ever pal mare's . lesr in motion. Well, he snapped his young back like a pipe-stalk one night in the Midlands, I was a nipper foolins about on the rope at the time, and can mind it plain. Bobby was in rare-trim t>at turn, slimp as a -young, ash and quick as greased lightning. His big feat was a double back-tarn while a*; the gallop. Well. Black Bess, sleek and shining as the looking-glasß yonder, circled round smooth as oil, and the crowd applauded and Bobby smiled, standing there ttna and firm as you'd do on the Iflo3r here. Lot' bless you, sir, he was born to it, asd thought no more of them nerve-strainers than you do of puffing your pipe. As I say, there he was, confident and cool. On went steam. Black Bess cccked tail, and cff at the tickle cf Bobby's crop, and, with a jerk and a whoop, he was a-wfceel in a twiukling. It all happened so fast that I can't tell you how it happened Bobby envd in foot or eye, o* both. I was standing at the month of the ring entrance at the time and knew that something was amiss, and a mist came up before my eyes when I saw Bobby full Bhorfe, a full foot clear of the horn's hips, and double up over a crossbar. The crowd lost its head. The women shrieked, the children piped, and there was a vush from the tent as if fire had flared, I was the first to lay hands on Bobby. His body hong limp as a rag on a clothes'-line, and his eyes, where good nature and humour always kept company, were gripped down close in the agony of death. Ttn% he lived a white, but he never spoke again That night we gave busings the go-by and worked a bit of crape into Black Bass's mane. 'Well, well, the bOsiness is hot without its risks, but it has been mine those fiveand forty year, and I never would change it for another. Take my word on't, we've gentlemen doing their turn in more then one concern like this. Tne life's free and open and full of change, and with a epice of excitement to give it relish. My wife's, —yonder's her picture on the wall, for she slipped off sudden two Decembers gone—came of a good stock and could read and write with the best of them. 'Just five years now at this time a queer thing came about with me. Oee night, after closing time, an oldish gent walks up to me and says he, sudden-like, Will you take me on your rounds with you, Brendon? I looked at him, for I thought he was a joking, but now I saw he vas in deadly earnest a«ad we came to terms there and then. He paid his wiy handeome—two gold sovereigns every Saturday, regular as the clock. Often I tried to get at his history, but it was no use. He was as close sb wax. so I gave him up. He'd tend the horses, play with the childer, do odd a and ends, aad —at a push of business—make himself handy all round. One winter-time we got stuck up in the heart of a snow-wreath all night; he caught a chill'and went off slick. ; * All I want/ he said to me as he lay in sight' of death, 'is a decent burial; ,jou keep the balance and ask no questions.' I took the purse of gold he offered me, and that reserve has kept the wolf, from getting over our doorstep ever since. In a quiet country churchyard we buried him. And every sammer tune when we go that way we put f reßh flowers on his grave.'—