About two hundred persons of all ages were crowded in front of a show of the old-fashioned traditional stamp. A small platform, which was ascended by broad wooden steps, was surmounted with a very florid painting of a character that evidently proved highly attractive to the audience. A lady in a low dress, with a wonderful necklace round her neck, and very dazzling bracelets upon her arms, was represented in the attitude of pointing at a box, from which two pigeons were flying, in the direction of an auditory consisting of a king and numerous officers in the army. Several rabbits were quietly peeping out of a saucepan placed upon a fire, a shower of cards and fruit and watches was falling from an inverted hat, and in the background were sundry mystic signs beneath a blazing sun. The companion picture was, if possible, of a higher order of merit, though of a simpler character. It represented the young lady in the low dress crouching beneath a capacious basket, and it also represented the same basket being raised by a man with black moustachios, who significantly pointed to the vacant space beneath; underneath was written in big letters, “The Famous Basket Trick.” Hung at various points in frames of various character, was represented a tremendous dog going through an exciting and varied performance. Here he stood upon his head, there he fired off a pistol; in another place he was engaged in a sort of pugilistic encounter with a professional bruiser, and around the frames which contained these pictorial attractions was printed, “The celebrated dog ‘Momus’ in a round of favourite and world-renowned characters.” The proprietor of the caravan had had a great argument with the artist who executed these latter works upon the propriety of calling Momus a “dogess,” which the showman thought would be sure to “draw;” but the artist had gravely assured him that such a title would not come within the rules of strict art, however grammatical it might be, and this settled the question at once. Upon the platform a young lady, in pink muslin and spangles and fleshings, with a crown upon her head, and many rows of curious beads around her neck, was marching solemnly to and fro, to an old ballad melody which a fellow in a bowler hat was twisting out of an organ, and to which he was keeping time on a very hard drum. Strutting backwards and forwards also, sometimes before the young lady in muslin and sometimes behind her, was a gaunt, greyish-looking dog, dressed up in military costume, and occasionally stopping to go through little bits of military exercise. Three flaming and spluttering naphtha lamps cast a flickering uncertain light upon the singular scene, making the surrounding darkness all the darker. By-and-by the man at the organ laid down his drum-stick, and, taking up a long whip, came to the top of the ladder, and after cracking the whip in a grave, solemn sort of fashion, he struck the spangled lady in the picture, and said in a loud voice,--