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it was thoroughly typical of the circus-going public of the West at an early day.


The sectional feeling between the North and South was also a constant menace to the showmen when traveling in the slave States, for the circus men were universally regarded as "Yankees." The exciting episodes growing out of this sentiment were numbered by the score, but the one which gave me the greatest fright was encountered in Missouri in an initial chapter of my experience.

As the caravan pulled into Booneville, early one morning, after a wearing night of marching, we found ourselves suddenly surrounded, not by the usual welcoming party of children of all colors and sizes, but by a band of lank Missourians, armed to the teeth. By this time I had developed a very respectable amount of courage for a lad; but the sight of this posse made me decidedly uncomfortable, and I'm afraid my whole body shook as badly as the voice of Mr. Butler, the manager, when he inquired the cause of our hostile reception.

"You've got a stolen nigger in your outfit, and you're our prisoners—that's what's the