cage, caressed them both by
turns, and pacified them.

Sir George Davis, who was English consul at Naples about the middle of
the seventeenth century, happening on one occasion to be in Florence,
visited the menagerie of the grand duke. At the farther end of one of
the dens he saw a lion which lay in sullen majesty, and which the
keepers informed him they had been unable to tame, although every effort
had been used for upward of three years. Sir George had no sooner
reached the gate of the den, than the lion ran to it, and evinced every
demonstration of joy and transport. The animal reared himself up, purred
like a cat when pleased, and licked the hand of Sir George, which he had
put through the bars. The keeper was astonished and frightened for the
safety of his visitor, entreated him not to trust an apparent fit of
phrensy, with which the animal seemed to be seized; for he was, without
exception, the most fierce and sullen of his tribe which he had ever
seen. This, however, had no effect on Sir George, who, notwithstanding
every entreaty on the part of the keeper, insisted on entering the
lion's den. The moment he got in, the delighted lion threw his paws upon
his shoulders, licked his face, and ran about him, rubbing his head on
Sir George, purring and fawning like a cat when expressing its affection
for its master. This occurrence became the talk of Florence, and reached
the ears of the grand duke, who sent for Sir George, and requested an
interview at the menagerie, that he might witness so extraordinary a
circumstance, when Sir George gave the following explanation: "A captain
of a ship from Barbary gave me this lion, when quite a whelp. I brought
him up tame; but when I thought him too large to be suffered to run
about the house, I built a den for him in my court-yard. From that time
he was never permitted to be loose, except when brought to the house to
be exhibited to my friends. When he was five years old, he did some
mischief by pawing and playing with people in his frolicsome moods.
Having griped a man one day a little too hard, I ordered him to be shot,
for fear of myself incurring the guilt of what might happen. On this a
friend, who happened to be then at dinner with me, begged him as a
present. How he came here, I do not know." The Grand Duke of Tuscany, on
hearing his story, said it was the very same person who had presented
him with the lion.

[Illustration: THE LIONESS AND HER CUBS.]

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