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Authors: Marthe Jocelyn

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“Yes!” said Josephine. “Of course I’ve heard of them!”

“General Tom Thumb died last year, may he rest in peace.” Mr. Amos shook his head sadly.

“I guess I never thought about them being real people,” said Josephine, “who wore shoes and hats and such. More like famous stories that somebody made up. You actually met Lavinia Warren?”

“I met her, I measured her feet, and I had the honor of crafting the slippers she wore to walk down the aisle of Grace Church on her wedding day!” Mr. Amos grinned
at Josephine, displaying the three yellow teeth left in his mouth. “And I’ll tell you the truth, my dearie. Your feet are smaller than hers.”

Josephine suddenly had an idea.

“Mr. Amos?” she said, touching his arm.

“Eh?” Mr. Amos bent farther toward her so she could speak into his ear.

“I have a little money of my own, sir. Saved up from working before. What I really want is—” She hesitated. “I mean, all your fancy slippers are beautiful, sir, but what I want is a real pair of shoes. To just wear. And I’ll pay.”

The very next day, Josephine had her plain, brown leather high-lows with a buckle in front. Real shoes that really fit!

“Oh, Mr. Amos!”

“Well, they are pretty, if I do say so myself. I like a shoe that meets the ankle, but for a child the heel should be low to the ground. I’m happy you like them, my dearie.”

And Josephine had bought them with two dollars of her own money! That made her think about having a new dress too. One that wasn’t a costume, that she could wear every day instead of her raggedy kitchen dress. When consulted, Mr. Jacobs kindly agreed to create a simple frock in exchange for her remaining coins.

“You look as pretty as a picture postcard!” exclaimed Nelly fondly. “That green linen suits you. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

Mr. Walters had also ordered six pairs of stockings, including striped ones, which Mr. Jacobs assured him were the very latest thing from France.

“Why, these would fit the hind legs of a cat!” Mr. Walters exclaimed, holding them up in amazement. And that gave him his next brilliant idea.

“Rosie has a big old dog, doesn’t she, Nelly?”

“Aye, sir. His name is Barker. He’s a retriever.”

“Well, it’s time he earned his keep. What do you say to riding a dog, Josephine? I shall order a saddle.”

“Me? Ride a dog?”

Josephine thought briefly of the howling hounds that had chased her the night she fled from school.

“Will he be even-tempered, sir?”

Mr. Walters roared with laughter. “Every bit as pleasant as I am, my dear.”

“I’m not sure that’s a comfort,” she murmured in reply.

Several days later, the wardrobe complete and her manners polished, Josephine sat in Mr. Walters’s office. She listened in bemusement as he spoke at great length and great volume into a peculiar instrument on his desk called a telephone.

“Yes? Yes? Hello?” he shouted.
“New York Tribune”
This is R. J. Walters calling you. I want to notify your reporter of cultural affairs-that would be who? Who? Mr. Gideon Smyth? Thank you.

“Please notify Mr. Smyth of a reception being held at the New Amsterdam Hotel—Hello? Yes, to honor the
sudden arrival of a new celebrity in our midst. All the way from Middle Europe. This is an occasion of great importance. He will want to be notified. Little Jo-Jo is the smallest human in the world—

“Tom Thumb? A giant by comparison! Come and see for yourself! On Friday evening at five o’clock. The New Amsterdam Hotel…”

Over and over, Mr. Walters made this invitation, to reporters and journalists at every newspaper within the range of his telephone.

When he finally replaced the handpiece and looked at Josephine, he bore the smile of a man proud of a long day’s labor.

“Not everything you said was true,” Josephine accused him. “What if they find out? What if I make a mistake?”

“Let me tell you something,” said Mr. Walters, his voice humming with reassurance and warmth. “Not everything I told them needed to be true. It just had to be intriguing. In the world of entertainment, that is known as the ballyhoo—the talk that brings them in the door. Once they’re inside, what they’ve been told will pale in the face of the real thing. And in this case, the real thing is you.”

Mr. R. J. Walters Discovers
WORLD’S
SMALLEST GIRL

W
EDNESDAY
, J
UNE 4, 1884
—Mr. Randolph James Walters, proprietor of the Museum of Earthly Astonishments located on the Bouwerie, and in Coney Island, today announced that he has discovered and employed what he claims to be the world’s smallest woman currently on exhibition.

In a special viewing at the New Amsterdam Hotel in this City, hosted by the dapper Mr. Walters, the miniature native of Bavaria, known only as Little Jo-Jo, was introduced to the world.

This lovely lady is eighteen years old, weighs 19 pounds and measures 28-1/2 inches in height. She enjoys perfect health, her form is symmetrically developed, and her green eyes fairly sparkle with intelligence.

This City has not welcomed such a diminutive person
since the famous pair of General Tom Thumb and his lovely wife, Lavinia Bump Warren, were sponsored by P. T. Barnum, twenty years ago. R. J. Walters, while acknowledging the inspiring midgets who married in 1863, was quick to remind us that Little Jo-Jo is a full 3-1/2 inches smaller than Miss Warren.

Little Jo-Jo has dark, curling hair and slightly swarthy skin, leading Mr. Walters to suspect that she has some gypsy blood. This would explain her fiery temperament and her fondness for the tambourine. At times, her deportment about the hotel parlor was modest and ladylike, but she displayed moments of a spontaneous passion.

Mr. Walters reminded the audience that she has been living in foreign lands and made assurances that her adjustment to society would be swift and charming.

Little Jo-Jo’s feet are only four inches long, but perfectly proportioned, and shod in beaded handmade slippers. Her dresses, by themselves, would be worthy of exhibition as each is a splendid recreation of an historical costume, elaborately embroidered and bejeweled. The dress and contents together are a magnificent show, already enjoying visits from some of the more prominent families in this City.

Little Jo-Jo will be on display at the Museum’s summer location in Coney Island, New York, starting June 27th. She can be viewed on the platform in the Main Promenade from 10 o’clock
A.M.
to 8 o’clock
P.M.

Notwithstanding this attraction alone is enough to fill the Museum to overflowing, also on view will be many of Mr. Walters’ other novelties.

he train from the city took more than an hour, but because it was Josephine’s first train ride ever, it wasn’t long enough. Gazing up at the huffing steam engine, Josephine was amazed to see a machine so tremendous. Climbing aboard took every bit of bravery she’d saved up these past few days. And when it began to move—why, this iron monster seemed to be galloping as fast as any horse or faster!

Josephine stood on the bench, with Nelly and Charley sitting next to her, in a third-class compartment. She hung on to the windowsill, trying to see every block of the city flashing by.

“Don’t you want to look out, Charley?”

“I can’t really see anything past a few feet, Jo. It’s my albino eyes. I don’t take much pleasure from scenery.”

“Oh, Charley, I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t worry your wee self,” said Nelly quickly. “He’s used to it. Half-blind and skinny as a pencil, but still my handsome boy, eh, Charley?” She patted his knee.

Charley changed the subject. “This year is the first time we can take the train all the way there,” he told Josephine. “We used to take the steamer ferry, but now,
since the new bridge opened up last year, the train is the quickest way to go.”

The Brooklyn Bridge spanned the river like a giant’s castle drawbridge. It would never, could never, hold a railway train! As well as all those horses and carriages and carts wheeling along beside! Surely they would all hurtle through the cables holding it up and tumble into the water.

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