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Updated: June 6, 2025
Mr. Brannan, editor of the Portage Register, who lives near, got the news, and imparted it to all whom he met, and they in turn told it to others, and a stampede was looked for. Fox turned the Fox House over to Bunker, and had his trunks checked for the Hot Springs. Corning and Jack Turner hired a wagon to take them to Briggsville.
How do you know that?" "I seed him! Ain't that enough? He started right up the road on a gallop, with the blood dripping from his jaws!" "But where is he now?" "He went a little way, stopping now and then to swaller some one that warn't quick 'nough to git out of his path; he went over the hill this side of Briggsville, where you know we couldn't see him.
On a certain summer day, a few years ago, the little village of Briggsville, in Pennsylvania, was thrown into a state of excitement, the like of which was never known since the fearful night, a hundred years before, when a band of red men descended like a cyclone upon the little hamlet with its block-house, and left barely a dozen settlers alive to tell the story of the visitation to their descendants.
Tom Gordon could not be blamed for failing to note several suggestive occurrences during this memorable visit to Briggsville. Seated on the porch of the hotel, while he was talking to the group of young persons and acquaintances, were two strangers, whose dilapidated dress, frowzy heads, and surly faces, showed they belonged to that pestiferous class of vagrants known as tramps.
It will be admitted that Tom Gordon and Jim Travers had met with a pretty stirring experience, as a result of the visit of the circus and menagerie to Briggsville. Tom had not been able to attend the performance; but it may be said he was favored with a little "circus" of his own, in which he played the part of star performer.
Tom Gordon lived a mile from Briggsville with his widowed mother and his Aunt Cynthia, a sister to his father, who had died five years before. The boy had no brother or sister; and as he was bright, truthful, good-tempered, quick of perception, and obedient, it can be well understood that he was the pride and hope of his mother and aunt, whose circumstances were of the humblest nature.
"It is a matter for serious thought, but hundreds have done the same before them, and have achieved success." "Have not some failed?" "Doubtless the majority have failed to attain what they expected. But the same is true right here in Briggsville, and is true everywhere.
One summer day the village of Briggsville blazed out in black and red and white, every available space being covered with immense posters, which in flaming scenes and gigantic type announced the coming of "Jones's & Co.'s Great Moral Menagerie and Transcontinental Circus, on its triumphal tour through the United States and Canada."
This time it was Jim Travers, who was panting from his running, and whose face was a picture of consternation, equal to that of Farmer MacDowell. "What's the matter, Jim?" asked Tom as his schoolmate reached him. "O Tom, ain't it awful?" gasped the new arrival, coming to a halt, still panting, and casting affrighted glances in the direction of Briggsville. "Ain't what awful?"
They sat up late again talking over their grand scheme of seeking their fortune, and even after they retired the hum of their conversation continued until far into the night. The following morning they turned their backs upon Briggsville forever. The ride to Philadelphia was not far. They had decided to stop there for a time, as there was no call for haste.
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