Then they set off, Magda and Magnhild, the lady and Tande. A crowd of people had assembled, most of them outside of the inclosure, where they could pay what they pleased. Within the inclosure there were "reserved" places, that is, benches, and to these the lady and her party repaired. The old juggler was already in his place, where, with the aid of his wife, he was preparing for the show. He bore a ludicrous resemblance to Skarlie, was bald, had a snub-nose, was large and strong-looking, and his face was not devoid of humor. Scarcely had Magnhild made this discovery than she heard Magda whisper to her mother,-- "Mamma, he looks just like Magnhild's husband." The lady smiled. At the same moment the old juggler stepped up to them. Among the reserved places was one "especially reserved," a bench, that is, with a back to it. The old man was quite hoarse, and his language, so far as it could be comprehended, was such a droll mixture of Swedish and Norwegian, that those nearest laughed; and the clown-like courtesy of his manner also created a laugh, even among those at a distance. But so soon as the laugh began Tande stepped back a few paces. The lady went forward, and Magda and Magnhild followed. The old juggler had a wife much younger than himself, a black-haired, hollow-eyed, sorrowfully thin person, who had the general appearance of having been unfortunate. There soon came skipping out of the tent a little lad with curly hair, sprightly eyes, and an air of refinement over face and form which he did not get from his mother, still less from the old clown. He was dressed as a jester, but was evidently anything else. He paused at his mother's side and asked her some question. He spoke in French. The lady, who was annoyed by Tande's foolish shyness, addressed the boy in his native tongue. The little fellow came forward, but merely to pause at a short distance and stand viewing her with an expression of dignified inquiry. This amused her, and taking out her purse she handed him quite a large coin. "_Merci, Madame!_" said he, making a low bow. "Kiss the lady's hand!" commanded the old man. The boy obeyed, with shy haste. Then he ran back to the tent, whence was heard the barking of dogs. Suddenly there arose a commotion in the crowd behind those who were seated. A woman with a child three or four years old in her arms was trying to push her way forward. She could not stand and hold the child forever, she said; she wanted to sit down. She was quite as good as any one else present.