The animal had wandered off, and whoever captured
it apparently kept quiet. Instead of blaming us, however, the old Squire
praised us.
"You did well, boys, in trying circumstances," he said. "You do not meet
a lion every day."
After what had happened, Willis and I felt much interest the following
week in seeing the show that had discomfited us. It had established
itself at the county fair in its big tent and apparently was doing a
rushing business. Buying admission tickets, Willis and I went in and
approached the lion's cage for a nearer view of the king of beasts. We
hoped he would spring up and roar as he had done in the woods below the
Shaker village; but he kept quiet. After all, he did not look very
formidable, and he seemed sadly oppressed and bored.
I think the proprietor of the show recognized us, for we saw him
regarding us suspiciously; and we moved on to the cage in which the Wild
Man sat, with a big brass chain attached to his leg--ostensibly to
prevent him from running amuck among the spectators. Two of his keepers
were guarding him, with axes in their hands. He was loosely arrayed in a
tiger's skin, and his limbs appeared to be very hairy.
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