“T’ink ye’re smart, don’t yer!” retorted the fellow angrily. “Some time yer’ll get yer face dented if you shoots off yer lip so free. If I had time, I’d ’tend to der job meself.”
“I am very sorry you haven’t the time. I’d like to go out behind the big tent and soothe you to sleep. I am a very soothing chap.”
To this the barker made another angry retort, and Jack and his friends laughed, bought tickets, and entered the tent.
When they were inside Jack began to lecture on the “wonders” there assembled. He gave them a little “game of talk” about the tattooed man, the Chinese giant, the “armless acrobat,” the fat woman, and other freaks on exhibition. When, however, he started in to call attention to a long-whiskered farmer from the country he came near getting into trouble.
“You sassy young cub!” roared the old farmer, clenching his fists and glaring at Jack, “I’d good mind to smash ye!”
Jack looked very frightened.
“Honestly?” he gasped. “You wouldn’t do that to a poor orphing bhoy, would you?”
“Think ye’re funny tellin’ folks about the wind blowin’ through my whiskers, don’t ye?” snorted the farmer. “When you have more whiskers, mebbe ye’ll hev some more brains to go with ’em!”
“That’s right, by gum!” agreed Gamp, sidling up to the farmer. “Give it to him, mum-mister. He’s sassed mum-most everybuddy.”