"Where were you born, Madame Morella?" "In the western part of New York State. I know what you are going to ask me. Was I always fat? No, when I was sixteen I only weighed one hundred and twenty. Then I had a fit of sickness and nearly died. After recovering, I began to gain flesh, till I became a monster, as you see." As she said this, she laughed, and her fat sides shook with merriment. Evidently she did not let her size weigh upon her mind. "I suppose your real name isn't Celestina Morella?" said Kit. "My real name is Betsey Hatch. That is what they called me in my girlhood, but I should hardly know who was meant if I was called so now." "Have you been long in the show business?" "About seven years." "Do you like it?" "I didn't at first, but now I've got used to moving about. Now when the spring opens I have the regular circus fever. But I have my troubles." "What are they?" asked Kit, seeing that the fat woman liked to talk. "Well, I find it very difficult to secure at the hotels a bed large enough and strong enough to hold me. I suppose you won't be surprised to hear that." "Not much." "At Akron, Ohio, where the hotel was full, I was put in a cot bed, though I protested against it. As soon as I got in, the whole thing collapsed, and I was landed on the floor." She laughed heartily at the remembrance. "I remember that very well," said the giant, "for I slept in the room below. Half an hour after getting into bed, I heard a fearful noise in the room above, and thought at first the hotel had been struck by lightning, and a piercing shriek that echoed through the house led me to fear that my esteemed Italian friend was a victim. But my mind was soon relieved when I learned the truth." "I suppose, major, you never broke down a bed," said the giant, turning to the dwarf. "No," answered the major, in a shrill piping voice, "I never lie awake thinking of that." "I believe you served in the civil war, major?" "Yes, I was in the infantry." It was a stale joke, but all four laughed at it. "How much do you weigh, major?" Kit ventured to ask. "Twenty-one pounds and a half," answered the dwarf. "I have with me some of my photographs, if you would like to buy," and the little man produced half a dozen cards from his tiny pocket. "How much are they?" "Ten cents." "I'll take one," said Kit, and he produced the necessary coin. "If you go into the tent you can see some of the performers rehearsing," suggested Achilles. "Let us go in, Dan." The two boys reached the portals and went into the big tent. CHAPTER III. KIT ASTONISHES TWO ACROBATS.