bones. The royal tiger, the beautiful, the untamable, keeps pacing his
narrow cage with a haughty step, unmindful of the spectators, or
recalling the fierce deeds of his former life, when he was wont to leap
forth upon such inferior animals, from the jungles of Bengal.
Here we see the very same wolf,--do not go near him, Annie!--the self-
same wolf that devoured little Red Riding Hood and her grandmother. In
the next cage, a hyena from Egypt, who has doubtless howled around the
pyramids, and a black bear from our own forests are fellow-prisoners, and
most excellent friends. Are there any two living creatures who have so
few sympathies that they cannot possibly be friends? Here sits a great
white bear, whom common observers would call a very stupid beast, though
I perceive him to be only absorbed in contemplation; he is thinking of
his voyages on an iceberg, and of his comfortable home in the vicinity of
the north pole, and of the little cubs whom he left rolling in the
eternal snows. In fact, he is a bear of sentiment. But, O, those
unsentimental monkeys the ugly, grinning, aping, chattering, ill-natured,
mischievous, and queer little brutes. Annie does not love the monkeys.
Their ugliness shocks her pure, instinctive delicacy of taste, and makes
her mind unquiet, because it bears a wild and dark resemblance to
humanity. But here is a little pony, just big enough for Annie to ride,
and round and round he gallops in a circle, keeping time with his
trampling hoofs to a band of music. And here,--with a laced coat and a
cocked hat, and a riding whip in his hand,--here comes a little
gentleman, small enough to be king of the fairies, and ugly enough to be
king of the gnomes, and takes a flying leap into the saddle. Merrily,
merrily plays the music, and merrily gallops the pony, and merrily rides
the little old gentleman. Come, Annie, into the street again; perchance
we may see monkeys on horseback there! Mercy on us, what a noisy world
we quiet people live in! Did Annie ever read the Cries of London City?
With what lusty lungs doth yonder man proclaim that his wheelbarrow is