We wouldn't go in the workhouse, so we just kept trampin' on, Till the last of our little savin's hoarded for months had

gone.

The master he got no better, and I got worse and worse, And I watched the baby wastin' as I hadn't the strength to

nurse.

I was cross and low, and I fretted, and I'd look at the child and think

As p'r'aps it 'ud be a mercy if the Lord 'ud let it sink,-
Sink and die and be buried before it grew to know
What a road life is to travel when the luck's agin' your show.
At last, with the miles of trampin', Jo's leg grew quite
inflamed,

And the doctor who saw it told him if he didn't rest he'd be lamed;

You can fancy what that meant, lady, to him as could lie in

the street

And toss a weight up and catch it, and spin it round with his feet

Now we couldn't earn a copper, and at last we wanted bread, So we had to go to the workhouse for the sake of a meal and

bed.

We had to go to the workhouse, where they parted man and wife,

And that was the wretchedest time, ma'am, of all my wand'rin' life.

It's only folks like ourselves, ma'am, as can tell what artists feels,

When they're treated like common loafers that tramps and cadges and steals.

It seemed to us like a prison, with all them heartless rules,
So we started again, but often I'd stop by one o' them pools
That lie in a quiet corner, dark and slimy and still,
And wonder what drownin' felt like-you see I was weak
and ill.

I know it was bad and sinful, but my thoughts were strange and wild;

You can pity a homeless mother, who loved her ailin' child.
I hated the healthy babies I saw in their mothers' arms,
I'd look at my pale thin darlin' with a thousand wild alarms,
And think of what lay before us if the master didn't mend,
And our means of earnin' a livin' had come to a sudden end.
I envied the sturdy children when I looked at my poor wee

mite;

I sometimes fancy now, ma'am, maybe as my head weren't

But I never envied another after a certain day,

As Providence gave me a lesson in a wonderful sort o' way.

It was through your a-sayin' you'd rather your child was stiff and dead

Than leadin' a life like Johnny, and as put it into my head To tell you my bit o' story, and how as I came to see

It's better to be contented, no matter how bad things be. Now look at him yonder, lady- handsome and firm o'limb; There isn't a mother in England as mightn't be proud o' him.

Yet the day as I had my lesson I looked at his poor pinched face,

And I envied a little creature as came of a high-born race.

We'd tramped to a country village, and passin' the village church

Sat down in the porch a minute, for Joe had begun to lurch And stagger a bit and murmur, for his ankle was awful bad; But we hadn't sat down a second when a beadle came up

like mad,

And ordered us off, and bellowed, and went nigh black in the face;

We saw what was up directly, when a big crowd filled the place,

And carriages full of ladies came drivin' up to the gate;

I never saw such a christenin'-'twas the heir to a grand

estate.

We were pushed along by the people, and got mixed up in the crowd,

And I heard 'twas a countess's baby, for the women talked

aloud.

The great folks filled the chancel, all friends of my lord the

earl's,

For this was the first boy-baby, the others had all been

girls.

I heard that one half the county would come to that baby.

boy;

I watched as his grand nurse held him, and I saw the mother's

joy.

Then I thought of the life of pleasure, of the love and the

tender care,

Of the fortune that God had given that white-robed baby. heir.

Then I looked at my half-starved Johnny, and thought of his hapless lot,

A lame street-tumbler's baby, by God and by man forgot.

And my heart was filled with passion as I looked at the tiny

heir,

And thought, "Ah, if only Johnny had future half as fair!" I envied my lady countess-no fear had she for her child; My eyes were red with weepin'-her proud lips only smiled, And I cried in my bitter anguish, "O God, if my little son Could have such a fate as Heaven intends for that pampered one!"

So we stood in that church,-two mothers,-she blessed and me accursed,

And my heart was full of envy, when suddenly with a burst Of music loud and joyous the organ filled the place;

And stoopin', the lovely countess pressed her lips on her baby's face.

And then-it was all in a moment-I heard a sudden cry, And a shriek from the lady-mother, then a murmur from low and high.

For the baby-heir to the title, guarded from every harm, Lay dead in its christenin' garments-lay dead on its nurse's arm!

I rushed from the church that moment, my senses seemed to reel,

And I hugged my poor wee baby, with my hand on its heart

to feel

The beatin' that seemed like music-then I clasped it to my

breast

And smothered its face with kisses till I woke it from its

rest.

Then its eyes looked up so sweetly, like an angel's, into

mine,

And I thanked the God of mercy for a blessing so divine. For I had my babe, my darlin'—what matter the workhouse

bed?

I could pity the noble lady, whose little child lay dead.

But our luck got round soon after, for I got better so quick I was able to dance and juggle, and spin the hat with a stick; And Johnny grew plump and pretty, and learnt to hold the shell,

To lisp out "Ta" for the pennies, and the master's leg got well;

And then when the boy grew bigger he took to the tumblin' so That he learnt the tricks directly, and was quite a part of the show.

Street tumblin' ain't a fortune, but you know how I came

to see

As it's better to rest contented, to be what you've got to be.

BOB JOHNSTON'S VISIT TO THE CIRCUS.

ANDREW STEWART.

Weel, ye maun understan', said Bob, that naething in the worl' wid ser' the guidwife but a veesit to the circus. She had set her heart on that. The bairns, too, had been deavin' me aboot clowns an' tum'lers an' horses, sae, for peacesake, an' to sort o' oil the family macheenery, I set a nicht, an' agreed to tak' the hala rick-ma-tick in to see the show.

I canna say I'm ony great admirer o' circuses-I never wis in ane afore-but this I maun admit, that the performance, sae far as I saw't, was really baith divertin' an' wonnerfu'. There was a'e man in particular that stuid up on the very tap o' a horse fleein' roun' the ring like a comet, an' the claes that man took aff him was a caution. Losh, he seemed to be able to peel himsel' like an ingan, till the rascal at last slipped aff his vera trou. sers an' stuid in his nicht shirt afore a' the folk. Even this was at last whupt aff, an' there he was a' shinin' in spangles, like a harlequin!

Aifter that a drunk chiel' staggered into the ring, an' the daft gowk insisted on ha'ein' a ride on ane o' the horses, in spite o' a' the man wi' the big whup in the middle o the ring could say or dae. I saw for mysel' that the creature was nae mair fit to ride on a horse than he wis to flee in the air, but willy-nilly he wid get up on the horse's back till the clown an' the man wi' the big whup in his han' were perfectly tired wi' his thrawness, an' they gied him a leg up to please him an' keep him quate.

It wis jist as I expected. The minute he wis heised up owre he went, richt owre the animal's back, an' doon he cam' wi' a clash on the ither side. Lo'd, I thocht he wid ha'e broken his neck wi' the fa', but no, up he got mair thrawn than ever, an, naething wid pit him aff the notion o' gettin' up on that herse's back an' ridin', richt

reason or nane.

The ringmaister was fairly daft to ken what to dae wi' him, an' as I saw a bobby stannin' up on the tap seat o' the gallery, I got up on the selvage o' the ring, an', wavin' my han' to the policeman, I cried

"Hey! policeman, come doon to the daft eediot. It's as muckle's his life's worth to lippen a man sae far gane in drink on the back o' a horse like that. He'll be kilt, an' that'll be seen."

These sentiments o' mine seemed to find an echo in every breast, for the cheerin' an' lauchin' that set in was something tremendous.

But it was nae use speakin'; the policeman widna stir a'e fit, but stuid an' lauched wi' the lave, an' the man wid be up on the horse's back, dae a' they could to keep him doon. They gied him a heise up again, an' awa' he went plaistered up wi' his legs striddled owre the horse's head. Of coorse he tumbled aff aince mair, an the next time the daft fule stuck himsel' wi' his face to the tail, as if he didna ken a'e end o' the animal frae the ither. Then the horse set aff, an' my vera hair was stannin' on en' at the rascal, wha was hingin' on by the horse's tail. But naething wid ser' the madman but he'd stan' up on the horse's back like's he'd seen the ithers dae, an', to my great astonishment, he actually managed this, an' gaed through some of the comicallest caipers ever you saw. It's weel seen there's a special providence for bairns an' drunk folk.

Aifter this, a maist amusin' wee brat o' a clown made his appearance in the ring, dressed in a suit o' calico o' the maist ridiculous description.

Hooever, I maun say this, that I enjoyed the caipers o' the wee mannie jist as weel's ony o' the bairns, wha were nearly gaun into fits wi' lauchin' at him. But jist at this time ane o' the horses sent a lump o' sawdust an' dirt aff its hoofs into oor Willie's e'e, sae I took him on my knee to try an' get the stuff oot, an' no haud him cryin'. While I was busy workin' awa' wi' my hankie, a' at aince I hears the awfullest roar o' lauchter, an'