Rope Dancer

Strung a Rope up once, 'cross a Street in Whitechapel, and this Cull appears on the Sill of the Black Bear.
Right queer, he was - naked but for Britches. Chest on 'im like a Barrel.
"OH," 'e booms and 'e roars, Head thrown back with a shine on it from all the Effort - and isn't he just going to be the most AMA-A-A-ZING Sight you ever seen in yer born Days?
Soon enough the Street started to fill. Flower girls, Pamphleteers, Mercuries an' Prophets stopped grafting to stare - not the Pickpockets though, the Famblers, the Nimblefingers: they don't pause not ever not when there's a Crowd to work. An' what a Crowd - all the 'Luds and Suds of the City crammed together.
So I stayed around, and sure enough he pranced and he danced, he threw Balls and caught 'em. It was a sunny Afternoon - April. Year ago, nearly.
It's odd, what you remember - don't spose I gave him another Thought till now, when I've got my own Rope Dance to do:

Mr. RICHARD TURPIN

will perform

The Hempen Jig

or

Tyburn Frisk

for

ONE APPEARANCE ONLY

at the Knavesmire

YORK

Saturday April 7th 1739