Free Pyg by Russell Potter

none. Mr Bisset was obliged, as he rarely was, to concoct a Dialogue with Himself, chiefly concerning mundane matters such as the Weather and the Time of Day,
to which I answered one damp pasteboard Letter at a time. By sunset, which came early, we were all too ready to quit that place, with very little to show for our Efforts, the Nobbins
amounting to a mere 4 s . 6 d .—the lowest we had commanded since our stay in Warrington, the very first Town in which our Act had been tried.
    That night at the Inn, I retired early, unwilling to long contemplate the Dread I felt within at any number of future Performances I would be obliged to make amidst the Habitants of this Irish Limbo , working for a Master whom I no longer considered a Man, but rather a Beast who had still other Beasts in Tow. Worse still, I now knew little of our Plans or Progress, as I was
without the company of my dear Benefactor, who alone had provided me with any Intelligence of our Doings. I now found myself in the midst of a dark descent, without my only Friend and Guide; like a Dante suddenly robbed of his Virgil , I was at the Mercy of tormented spirits, crooked Paths and fearful Precipices, with no one to direct my steps. Never the less, I resolved that I
would not fall into that darkest chasm of all, the pit of Despair! I told myself repeatedly that Sam would find me somehow, and rescue me from these Torments, and until then, I must be as Stoic as
any Philosopher , accepting whatever came my way with patience and Fortitude.
    Both these Virtues were shortly put to the Test, as our northward progress proved to be a dismal detour. It rained continually, until the roads were churned into twin Rivers of Mud, and we were
frequently obliged to stop in order to navigate our way through some new and unexpected Mire. At Drogheda , the market was so sodden that we scarce drew any crowd at all, and afterwards Mr
Bisset was laid up in Bed for a week, with Rheumatism in his back and legs. When at last we arrived in Dundalk , there was a slight break in the weather, long enough for my Master to recover
his Health, and we had an exhibition for two nights at the Assembly Rooms there, adjacent to the Town Hall. Never the less, after the expense of renting the hall was accounted for, our takings
remained but little, and it was difficult to call to Mind our late glorious career before the lively crowds at Astley’s, as we now plied our trade before an audience that seemed to consist
largely of dreary, disconsolate souls, too weighed down with Drudgery to partake in Enjoyment of any Kind.
    Several days later, we came into the city of Belfast by way of Banbridge, and here at last we found a more Profitable Venue for our Exhibitions. The Place was originally the Cellar of some
long-extinct Structure, which had lately been refitted as a sort of Theatre, and was popularly known as ‘The Vaults’. The manager there, a Mr Atkins, was most attentive to my
Master’s requirements, and very nearly repapered every Wall in the town with handbills. He personally arranged to obtain a Licence from the Magistrate, with whom he seemed on most friendly
terms, and decorated the hall and the entranceway with banners depicting me with my Waistcoat and medallions, and declaring me the favourite of the Crowned Heads of Europe (a falsity which, though
it pained my Conscience , so pleased my Pride that I found I could not complain about it). Rooms were arranged for us at a nearby Hotel, and on the Evening of our performance, the street
outside was filled with jugglers, Punch-and-Judy men, and other smaller entertainments, the better to entice the people to our own.
    As a new Attraction this evening, we revived our Clairvoyant act, with which we had little bothered at our previous few shows, my Master averring that there was too little to read in
Minds such as those possessed by the Inhabitants of Drumcondra or Drogheda , which were shaped by constant and laboursome Toil. In