“Walk in, gentlemen,” exclaimed the proprietor, “and see the surprising young woman over whom the element of fire has no control!”
Tom and Bob accepted the invitation. Entering the caravan, they were received by an interesting young female, apparently not more than eighteen years of age, with a courteousness of manner far beyond what could have been expected from an itinerant exhibitor.
So soon as a sufficient number of spectators had congregated within the vehicle, the female Salamander commenced her exhibition.
Taking a red-hot poker from the fire, she grasped it firmly, and drew it from head to point through her hand, without sustaining the smallest injury!
“Will you permit me to look at your hand?” asked Dashall.
The girl extended her hand,—the palm was moist, and seemed to have been previously fortified against danger by some secret liquid or other application, now reeking from its recent contact with the flaming weapon.
An uncivilized bumpkin accused her of deception, asserting that the poker was not heated to the extent represented.
“Touch and try,” answered the girl. He did so, and the cauterizing instrument gave a feeling (although not very satisfactory) negative to his assertion.
“The mystery,” continued Dashall, “of resisting the impression of tire, certainly originates in the liquid by which your hand has been protected.”
“I shall answer your observation,” said the Salamander, “by another performance.”