himself together, then make a step towards the impatient beasts. Then he stopped again and looked around. Was he afraid at last? No, there was no fear upon his face—only bewilderment. He brushed his hand again across his eyes and walked towards the lions. One of them made a stroke with its paw towards him, snarling. He did not seem to notice. Some of the attendants seemed to think something wrong, and crowded to the bars, whispering together. One of them called out, but the lion-tamer did not answer. He attempted to get upon the back of the first lion, and slipped; the brute snarled and half turned, but the cruel foot was again upon his back, and he fell into his accustomed place. The man mounted and stepped on to the next beast, then slipped again, and went down on his feet between them.
She heard a voice in the audience mutter, "This may be good for show, but, by Heaven! I don't like it." And some one from the theatre pushed by her, saying, "My God! is the fellow drunk? If he had fallen he was a dead man." Again she saw her husband mount the back of the next lion in a bewildered way,
