The drummer played a new tune, and sang in a low tone. The boy seemed to
have a fit, and writhed as though he were in convulsions, finally dropping
down into the basket very slowly. Mrs. Blossom was sure the basket was not
big enough to contain him, and wondered what had become of him. Then the
performers threw themselves on the basket, closed the lid, and began to
punch it in every direction with long and wicked-looking knives. The ladies
were appalled at the sight; but they were assured that it was all right.
The Hindus finally crushed down the basket till it was almost flat, and it
did not look as though there was any space in it for a kitten, much less an
eight-year-old boy. Then the men formed a circle around the basket, and
began a sort of chant. Something like a voice seemed to be sounding in at
the open windows. It continued to come nearer, and at last appeared to
proceed from the basket, which began to be distended, till it was restored
to its full size. Then the lid was removed, and the child sprang out, to
the great relief of Mrs. Blossom.
Then one of the jugglers set a top to whirling, placed the point on the end
of a stick, and balanced it on his nose. So far it was no new thing; but
one of the spectators was asked to say stop at any time he pleased. Captain
Ringgold gave this command; and when he did so, the top ceased to whirl,
though, upsetting the bicycle theory, it kept its place on the stick.
Pages:
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214