To us the different exhibits of the show, as portrayed upon the posters, were both curious and wonderful. Were we not men and philosophers, passengers through life, and observers of the human show? Was it not our bounden duty to see all that was strange and marvelous in this great world? Well, then, by what right did our tyrants act? We were of the human race, and held none of its members alien. Though it might be questioned if the dog-faced boy, the genuine mermaid, the lady with a body like a serpent, and the man of india-rubber skin, came unreservedly into the category of human creatures--still such objections were mere quibbles. A golden opportunity for delight and self-improvement was being denied us, and for the flimsiest of reasons, so we straightway raised the standard of revolt and nailed it to the mast. "Let's run away!" said Ed Mason. Really, it seemed the only possible suggestion. When you have simply got to reduce your hard-hearted parents to contrition, milk-and-water methods are useless. A blow must be struck--sharp and decisive. Then they will recognize your value, be properly humbled, and come around to a correct view of things. Running away from home is at once the boldest of strokes and the most subtle form of revenge. It asserts your independence at the same time that it reduces your parents to humility. We decided upon it, and then and there fixed the hour of five that afternoon as the time of our departure from home and kindred. We would sever all the ties that bound us to civilization, and plunge into the trackless wilds. Prompt to the hour, I met the resolute Mason on the farther side of the frog pond. He was simply yet appropriately equipped with a cap-pistol, and two bananas for provender while crossing the wilderness. I carried a light sling-shot and a package of soda-biscuit. Game--partridges, antelopes, and other creatures--might be slain _en route_; while our thirst could be slaked at the brooks and streams. We set out in silence, as became our high purpose. In a little over an hour we had penetrated the desert as far as Brown's ice-house, and there we decided to camp for the night. We had encountered no antelopes, buffaloes, nor other animals, except a herd of cows belonging to Mr. Haskell. They were being driven home by a small boy. In a little grove of trees back of the ice-house we sat down and made our supper of bananas and soda-biscuit. The ice-pond provided water to wash down the meal. We faced the west, and received full in our eyes the rays of the sun, now rapidly approaching the earth.