Christmas at Cedar Hill

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"All this I heard long afterwards. Meantime I was learning my new profession, if such it may be called, and hard work it was. For two or three hours of every day, and longer if there was time, I was exercised with turning somersaults, standing on one foot and raising the other to the level of my ears, and many other like performances, comforted, when I complained, by the assurance that they were nothing to what I should have to do by-and-by. You smile, young gentlemen, at the idea of my occupying, myself in such exercises, but you must remember that I was neither so old nor so stout as I am now. I believe I made tolerable progress in my education, but I found it dreadfully fatiguing. All my muscles seemed strained."

"I got many bad falls, and at night my bones ached so that often I could not go to sleep till it was nearly time to set out in the morning. Then I must jump up, water and clean my animals, and be ready for a fresh start. My master was in general tolerably kind to me, and would often give me a shilling or two when I acquitted myself to his satisfaction; but he was a terrible reprobate, and, if I were awkward or careless, he would swear at me till it made my blood run cold to hear him. In this respect he was neither better nor worse than his men, who all seemed to take a pride in venting the most blasphemous expressions upon every occasion."

"Little Tom Green was as bad as the rest, and it was frightful to hear such words from a child of eight years old. The captain drank pretty hard, and none of the men refused his glass when offered. Nevertheless, they all treated me kindly enough, especially when they found me disposed to be obliging, and Mr. Bangs in particular was my friend and protector on all occasions."

"I was dreadfully afraid of the lions and tigers at first, and used to dream of them at night; but I soon got over my terrors, and grew to be upon quite intimate terms with some of them, especially a lion and lioness, into whose cage Mr. Bangs used to enter at our public exhibitions. They were great, fat, good-natured beasts, and, having been brought up in captivity and always well fed, they were as tame as any household cats. Bob, the lion, was very fond of fresh bread and cake. After I discovered this taste of his, I used to save him a slice from my supper every night, so that we soon became good friends."

"Bob would let me do anything with him; and, seeing one day how fond the creatures were of me, Mr. Bangs proposed that I should enter the cage with him. This part of the performance really belonged to Tom Green, but he was a very imp of mischief, and had tormented all the animals till they hated the sight of him. Even good-natured old Polly had one day put her claws into his jacket, as he passed within reach, with such a good will that she had stripped it from his back. Notwithstanding my regard for Bob and Polly, it was a fearful moment for me when I found myself, rouged and whitened in a fine fancy dress, ready to enter the cage with Mr. Bangs. I knew that my companion was as strong as a giant, and that he had pistols and a knife in his bosom, but I could hardly control my terror as the grate shut behind me; and right glad was I to find myself once more on the outside of the den, with my head still safe on my shoulders. My mates praised my boldness, and the captain gave me five dollars; and after two or three times I went through the performance as coolly as Mr. Bangs himself."

"I suppose there must always be some danger in such feats?" observed the squire.

"Of course, but I think not as much as is generally imagined. The animal knows and loves his master, who punishes him when he misbehaves and rewards him when he does well. He is well fed and has never learned his own strength. Still, there is undoubtedly danger, and every now and then one of the performers pays for his boldness with his life. Attached as the animals often are to their keepers, they are not to be trusted. Some little incident, when it is least expected, arouses all the latent ferocity of their natures, and then the man falls a victim."

"It is fearful to see a man put his life in jeopardy even in a good cause, where he may be entitled to ask the protection of God without presumption and with confidence that it will be granted—and surely it should be much more so when the danger is undergone merely for the sake of gaining money and affording amusement to thoughtless people."

"It was about three months after my escape from school that, one evening after our entertainment was concluded, I walked into the barroom of the little village tavern, where our captain was already seated, looking over a file of newspapers. A great screen covered with advertising bills stood before the door, and I stopped behind it to tie my shoe. As I entered, the landlord was questioning the captain as to the places he passed through. He asked, in an indifferent tone:"

"Did you happen to hear whether they ever found the boy who was lost out of the school there?'"