still adhered to the joints of the staves, and conveyed it to their mouths.  Finding a cask not yet preempted, Master Charles set to work, and for a few moments revelled in a wild saccharine dream, whence he was finally roused by an angry voice and the rapidly retreating footsteps of his comrades.  An ominous sound smote his ear, and the next moment he felt the cask wherein he lay uplifted and set upright against the wall.  He was a prisoner, but as yet undiscovered.  Being satisfied in his mind that hanging was the systematic and legalized penalty for the outrage he had committed, he kept down manfully the cry that rose to his lips.

In a few moments he felt the cask again lifted by a powerful hand, which appeared above him at the edge of his prison, and which he concluded belonged to the ferocious giant Blunderbore, whose features and limbs he had frequently met in colored pictures.  Before he could recover from his astonishment, his cask was placed with several others on a cart, and rapidly driven away.  The ride which ensued he describes as being fearful in the extreme.  Rolled around like a pill in a box, the agonies which he suffered may be hinted at, not spoken.  Evidences of that protracted struggle were visible in his garments, which were of the consistency of syrup, and his hair, which for several hours, under the treatment of hot water, yielded a thin treacle.  At length the cart stopped on one of the wharves, and the cartman began to unload.  As he tilted over the cask in which Charles lay, an exclamation broke from his lips, and the edge of the cask fell from his hands, sliding its late occupant upon the wharf.  To regain his short legs, and to put the greatest possible distance between himself and the cartman, were his first movements on regaining his liberty.  He did not stop until he reached the corner of Front Street.

Another blank succeeds in this veracious history.  He cannot remember how or when he found himself in front of the circus tent.  He has an indistinct recollection of having passed through a long street of stores which were all closed, and which made him fear that it was Sunday, and that he had spent a miserable night in the sugar cask.  But he remembers hearing the sound of music within the tent, and of creeping on his hands and knees, when no one was looking, until he passed under the canvas.  His description of the wonders contained within that circle; of the terrific feats which were performed by a man on a pole, since practised by him in the back yard; of the horses, one of which was spotted and resembled an animal in his Noah’s Ark, hitherto unrecognized and undefined; of the female equestrians, whose dresses could only be equalled in magnificence by the frocks of his sister’s doll; of the painted clown, whose jokes excited a merriment, somewhat tinged by an undefined fear, was an effort of language which this pen could but weakly transcribe, and which no quantity of exclamation points could sufficiently illustrate.  He is not quite certain what followed.  He remembers that almost immediately on leaving the circus it became dark, and that he fell asleep, waking up at intervals on the corners of the streets, on front steps, in somebody’s arms, and finally in his own bed.  He was not aware of experiencing any regret for his conduct; he does not recall feeling at any time a disposition to go home; he remembers distinctly that he felt hungry.