They were a canny Scotch crowd; they were not to be taken in by mere glitter, no, not the smallest barefoot boy nor the most wretched beggar, for they knew very well that the real crisis of the evening was to be the appearance of Signor Lambetti, and the word 'wonderful' was not to be spoken until his feats began to be performed.
At length he came outside the curtain upon which all eyes had long been fixed.

The curl of his hair and the waxed ends of his moustache proved him to be beyond doubt from foreign parts.

He was indeed a most grand and handsome gentleman.

His dress was, if anything, more superb than it had been in the pictures; all his well-formed muscles showed through the silken gauze that he wore.

His velvet trappings were trimmed with gold lace and his medals shone like gold.
He walked upon a tight rope away up in the peaked roof of the tent; he held a wand in his hand by which to balance himself and in the other hand a cup of tea which he drank in the very middle of his walk; tossing it off, bowing to the crowd below, and bringing the cup and saucer to the other end in safety.
The crowd gave deep sighs, partly of satisfaction for being permitted to see so wonderful a sight, partly out of relief for the safety of the performer.