From a limb of the tree, Hen Ragor, the assistant in the performance, suspended the trapeze. The news spread that there would be some wonderful acting in the old pasture lot, Saturday afternoon, always a holiday to every boy and girl in old Brownsville to go fishing, swimming, nutting or berrying. On this particular Saturday all the boys and girls hied themselves to the old pasture lot; nor was the gathering confined to the younger set; a few of the adults were attracted. They stood at a distance, viewing the doings; however, not one of them but had a vantage position. As the exercises went along, Danny Gummert, George Pee, Denbow Simpson and Alf McCormick, drew nearer. Caroline Baldwin, seated on the fence, yelled: "Come in and look out, you can see better." This brought a laugh and a few of the elders outside of the pasture sauntered a little ways off only to come nearer as the applause and laughter grew louder. Alfred had covered himself with all sorts of glory in the numerous numbers in which he had participated. Caroline Baldwin, who, with her brothers Clarke and Charley, occupied two entire private boxes, (two panels of fence), proclaimed during an intermission that Alfred was the greatest actor in the country; "it was just shameful he was held down when people all over the country were pantin' to see him do his showin'." Lin declared: "Nobody in eny show thet's ben yere in years kin hol' a candul tu him; they can't tech him. He kin walk ontu his hans better en some peepul kin on thar feet." Here Lin cast a withering glance at Jack Beckley that would have sobered one less saturated. Jack returned Lin's look with a vague grin, saying: "I'm drunk and glad of it." Lin gave him a smart push as she ordered him to keep his distance: "I smell licker on yer close." "Excuse me--I didn't--no--I hed--spilled eny--of hit." Jack seated himself on the grass, unheeding the jibes of the little boys and girls. He was a good natured tippler. In fact, he seemed pleased that his condition was furnishing fun for the crowd. No blare of trumpet or beat of drum announced the coming of the death-defying gladiators; no eloquent orator was there to describe their deeds. Unheralded, unannounced, without applause or acclamation Alfred and Bindley emerged from their dressing room, Baldwin's barn. Crossing the narrow alley, climbing the fence they stood under the shade of the trapeze tree, the open-mouthed, craned neck cynosure of all eyes, excepting Jack Beckley's--he had gone to sleep. The silence that greeted the duo was broken only by sotto voce remarks of Lin, taking a mental inventory of Alfred, or rather, his costume. He was attired in a red waist trimmed with beads, white tights, long, bright green, silk stockings tied with broad yellow ribbon garters, a big, double bow knot on the outside of each limb; a bright red nubia or neck comforter wound about his middle; no pumps, shoes or other covering on his feet. [Illustration: The Aerialist's Debut]