1871.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
427 
4 ©HIM 3 S0WII1 
Sts-eeU Shows im JLoBanlonio 
BT OLIVE THORNE. 
Wouldn’t you think it funny to sec a baby of three 
years old, walking on stilts three or four times as long 
as she was herself ? And not only walking with perfect 
ease, but dancing several fancy dances, playing the tam¬ 
bourine, and going through various other exercises, at 
the top of those fearful stilts ? 
Well, you would not only see that—if you went to Lon¬ 
don—but you would see a good many other street per¬ 
formances that would seem very odd to you. 
You must know that there are so many people to do 
the work of London, that wages are very low, and the 
father of a family can not always earn enough to support 
them. Often, every one of the family, down to the baby, 
has some way of earning a few pennies, to help buy bread. 
But though there are hundreds of trades at which peo¬ 
ple work, that you never heard of, and many ways of 
earning a living that you would think horrible, still there 
is not work enough for all; so many people earn their 
bread by some show, or street performance. 
You've heard ol' “Punch and Judy,” and probably 
know that it’s a sort of play theater, where the actors are 
wooden dolls, whose owners move them, and talk for 
them. I don’t know how many dozens of these there are 
all the time traveling around London. 
But I will tell you about a different kind of street show: 
There were two little girls, not very long ago, the 
daughters of a woman famous for walking on stilts, who 
were trained, almost before they could stand, to walk on 
stilts themselves. At three years old they had learned 
well enough to go into the streets to earn a living. 
Think of a baby of three earning its own living! 
The mother could really do marvelous things. She 
could stand on one stilt, take off the other, and go through 
a gun exercise, using the stilt as a gnn, and all the 
time, yon must remember, standing on one stilt. 
They are not made like our stilts. They are fastened 
tightly just below the knee, and the arms are left free. 
It was a funny sight, I can tell yon, to see the mother 
and the two little girls, dressed in gay, spangled dresses, 
walking the streets, on a level with the second-story win¬ 
dows. When they saw people interested, and thought 
they could earn something, they would stop, and go 
through their exercises. Of course they always drew a 
crowd; and when they finished, and handed around a 
tambourine, most everybody would give a few pennies. 
Besides the stilts, these babies learned to walk and 
dance on a rope, before they were six years old. 
Now I want to tell you young folks a Becret. Those 
babies were no smarter than other babies. They learned 
their wonderful tricks by simply— p>'adising. At all 
hours of the day—when just out of bed, or just going to 
bed, before breakfast, and after dinner, they always had 
their practicing tools by them, and every few minutes 
they would try, either to walk on the broomstick their 
father pnt between the rounds of two chairs, or to take 
some new step on the stilts. 
Don’t ever let me hear any child say “I can’t,” when 
babies can learn t® walk a rope. 
Another street-showman of London is called a “ Pos- 
turer,” and he does such things as circus performers do, 
such as turning wonderful summersets, balancing poles 
on the chin, keeping a dozen balls in the air, etc. 
Some o£ them imitate the conjurers, swallow knives, 
oat fire, and such pleasant little things. Of course they 
always draw crowds. 
Then there’s a “Street Reciter.” He goes to hotels 
and saloons, everywhere that ho finds men idle and ready 
to be amused. He repeats poems and other pieces, and 
often he is a very good speaker. When he gets through, 
ol course he don’t forget to pass around his hat. 
Telescopes pointed to the heavens from the street cor¬ 
ners are common here as well as in London. 
One of the most comical street shows is a set of me¬ 
chanical figures—that is, figures that move by machinery 
inside of them. The showman has a sort of platform, 
and the little dolls walk around, and do various funny 
things to amuse people. 
Besides all these, and many that I can’t remember, they 
have not only plenty of hand-organs, but performers on 
nearly every kind of instrument small enough to carry. 
It is sad, when there’s so much useful and necessary 
work to be done in the world, to see grown men obliged 
to sing ballads or speak pieces in the streets, to put 
bread in their mouths. 
Ararat Sue’s Patzzlc-Hox. 
That fish story in the September number has proved a 
terrible poser. However, I suppose the puzzlers are 
studying their Natural Histories, and that I shall have 
more to say about it in December. I will give you a nice, 
easy lot this month. 
DECAPITATIONS. 
1. Behead an article of furniture, and leave an animal 
growth. 
2. Behead a fruit, and leave an organ. 
3. Behead certain water, and leave what yon would not 
wish to be. E. L. Clark. 
CROSS-WORD ENIGMA. 
4. My first is in great but not in small. 
My next is in stable but not in stall. 
My third is in red but not in pink. 
My fourth is in water but not in drink. 
My fifth is in nice but notin good. 
My sixth is in pine but not in -wood. 
My seventh is in quick, but not in slow. 
My eighth is in make but not in sew. 
My whole is a flower, you know it well; 
So now, dear friends, its name pray tell. 
Fannie Brooks. 
GEOGRAPHICAL ANAGRAMS. 
5. Cliewer’s test. S. Nose trap. 
6. Boat in school. 9. A strap. 
7. Nine oil maps. 10. Red dens. 
Adolph M. Nagel. 
puzzle. 
11. Search Holy Writ, and you will see 
A noted warrior fought with me. 
Behead, on mountain tops I’m seen, 
Or in the briny deep have been; 
Behead again, transpose, beware ! 
Or I may prove a fatal snare. 
If you again my head should sever, 
No matter how informed or clever, 
’Tis all in vain, give up the route, 
For you can never find me out. F. H. C. 
12. I ain composed of 13 letters: 
My 1, 8, 3, 11, is a command. 
My 4, 8,10, is a girl’s nickname. 
My 7, 2,11 is an article of clothing. 
My G, 5, 12, is a quadruped. 
My 9, 7, 2, 1, is not real. 
My 13,5, 3, 7, is something worn by young ladies. 
My whole may be found on the map of the United 
States. Maria L. Brooks. 
CHARADE. 
13. My first a pronoun is I ween, 
My next a political name is seen. 
My whole doth tell of time that’s past. 
And shows how long good men did last. J. P. 
(Fill the following blanks with words pronounced alike 
but spelled differently.) 
14. A-stood near the cage of the-. 
15. A-person led the-. 
16. The-was a man of-. 
17. The-played upon a-. 
18. A large-grew near the-. 
19. The-fell upon a-man. 
The Italian Bov. 
20. My whole, when suitably prepared, is an article of 
food ; beheaded lam something used in cookingit; 
behead again and show what you often do with it; 
behead again, and leave a preposition; again, and 
leave a beverage. Reen Ross. 
420. Puzzle Picture .— 1 This young lady has evidently 
met with a sad catastrophe, which is the reason she 
covers her face. See if you can make out the puzzle. 
pi. 
21. A thclib herat kasem a blomogin gavise. 
ANSWERS TO PUZZLES IN THE SEPTEMBER NUMBER. 
The Fisii Story.— 1. Maid. 2. Plaice. 3. Cod. 4. 
Alewife. 5. Weak. G. Hodmandod (hodman Dodd). 7. 
Tom Cod. S. Cat. 9. Dog. 10. Old Wife. 11. John 
Doree. 12. Poor John. 13. Whale. 14. Pilot. 15. 
Trumpet. 10. Weak. 17. Ruffe. 18. Bleak. 19. Perch. 
20. Rock. 21. Fish. 22. Pole. 23. Shad. 24'. Hake. 
25. Pike. 26. Wiffes. 27. Pipe. 28. Bib. 29. Star. 30. 
Ling. 31. Moon. 32. Ray. 33. Blue. 34. Horn. 3E. 
Groper. 3G. Flounder. 37. Grnnter. 38.. Shote. 39. 
Sucker. 40. Red-eye. 41. Bounce. 42. Hound. 43. 
Poll. 44. Sleeper. 45. Sound. 46. Dab. 47. Lump. 
48. Miller’s Thumb. 49. Grampus. 50. Mango fish. 51. 
Cachalot. 52. Bass. 53. Carp. 54. Needle. 55. Razor.. 
5G. Sword. 57. Scabbard. 58. Dragon. 59. Gar. 60. 
Drum. 61. Electric Eel. 62. Smelt. 63. Growler: 64. 
Angel. 65. Globe. G6. Deal. 67. Bream. 68. Weever. 
69. Shiners. 70. Skates, 71. Salmon. 72. Tobacco-pipe. 
73. Basket. 74. Bait. 75. Sole. 70. Pole. 77. Basket.. 
78. Poor John. 79. Sound. 80. Red-eye. 
Anagrams. —1. Elaborate. 2. Solicitude. 3. Person¬ 
ation. 4. Literature. 5. Comforting. 6. Centipede. 
Rebus. —415. Every man and woman in North America 
should subscribe for the Hearth ana Home and American 
Agriculturist. 
416. I’ll go to tell Him all I’ve done, 
And fall before his face; 
Unworthy to he called a son. 
I’ll seek a servant’s place. 
Aunt Sue’s address is B®x 111, P. O., Brooklyn, N. Y., 
and not 245 Broadway, New York. 
AUNT SUE’S NOTICES TO CORRESPONDENTS. 
Charlie W. T.—Nothing gives me greater pleasure 
than to hear that “ pa and ma helped.” 
In answering the “ Opposites,” Nos. 4, 5, and 6 seem to 
have furnished the greatest wiriety of answers. To “Eng¬ 
lish nose,” Salem answers “Turkey,” Hetty “ Franchise,” 
and Townsend W. “ Duchy; ” to No. 5 (“ invisible ”), they 
give “ incited ” and “ insight; ” to No. 6 (“ penniless ”), 
“ senseless ” and “ scentless.” Let us have some more 
“ Opposites.” 
Glad to hear from Mrs. H. J. N., Mrs. M. II., and F. 
W. Hall, E. M. R., Y. Y„ O. A. G., and Mary A. S. 
Thanks for puzzles, etc., to F. W. Hall, R. T. Isbester, 
and G. T. 
M. E. L.—Numerical enigmas are not particularly “ ac¬ 
ceptable,” especially those constructed upon my own 
name ; nevertheless I thank you for the trouble you took, 
and for the kind thought involved. 
Minnie.—T his isn’t just the place to discuss love mat¬ 
ters, although love is admitted to he quite a puzzle. If 
you are really serious, and “have no mother to consult,” 
send your address to your “ Auntie,” and she will advise 
you to the best of her abilities. 
M. M. P.—I will make inquiry about the matter, and 
tell you the result. 
Glad to hear from Freddie W. B., S. D. M., Mary A. C., 
Mamie W., S. M. Shaw, Bennie, and J. II. G. 
Thanks for puzzles, etc., to II. Du B., J. T. G., Sallie, 
M. D. T., and Alpha. 
H. G. T.—Your pleasure adds to mine ; thanks. 
Tlae I>oct«r Talks afoosit ISeai-s. 
The boys had been to see the animals at Central Park, 
and came back delighted with their half-holiday. The 
bears seemed especially to interest them, and for several 
days they talked about bears, and made sketches from 
memory of those they had seen in the Park menagerie. 
“Now, uncle,” said Walter, “please tell us something 
about bears; you have been so ranch in the wilderness 
that you must know all about them.”.“It is not 
probable that any one knows ‘ all ’ about them, hut I will 
tell you about a few that I have seen—provided you will, 
in the first place, tell me what is a hear.”.“A great, 
shaggy animal,” said Arthur. “And sits up on his 
haunches, and has claws,” added Waiter.“That 
will not do; dogs are great and shaggy, and can be taught 
to sit upon their haunches, and cats and tigers have 
claws. We must find some peculiarities that distinguish 
hears from dogs, tigers, and all other animals.” Finding 
that the hoys had not, in their watching the habits of the 
animals, noticed their peculiar make, I referred Waiter 
to a small compendium of natural history for a descrip¬ 
tion. He turned to the word Bear, which referred him to 
Ursinai , where he read “ plantigrade carnivorous animals, 
cartilage of nose elongated and movable, carnivorous 
tooth bluntly tubercular.”—“Whew! uncle, that is just 
the way with your books; one i's none the wiser for 
them! Oh I yes; a hear is a pianti-something, and a 
carni-something, and now we know til about it.”. 
“As you spent some hours among the bears, and did not 
notice that they were carnivorous or plantigrades, per¬ 
haps you will condescend to learn what these terms 
