, will appear
before you in his remarkable performance, during which every one is
requested to keep his seat. Your attention is especially directed to the
third part of it, as one of the marvels of the nineteenth century.

"To-morrow there will be a matinee at one o'clock, and in the evening
the performance at the usual hour."

The speaker bowed and retired. The band struck up "See, the Conquering
Hero Comes," as the Brinton in question came forward with that dash
which belongs to lion-tamers everywhere. He was an athletic man between
forty and fifty, of a stern countenance, and of a self-possession that
was evident as soon as he appeared. He was arrayed in flesh-colored
tights, with embroidered sky-blue velvet around the loins. He bore in
one hand a black rod, five or six feet long, and in the other a whip.
His hair was short, and he was cleanly shaved. Men who put their heads
between lions' jaws generally are, for the titillation of a straggling
hair might produce a cough that would prove tragical. He was quick and
decided in all his movements, as the lion-tamer should be, in order to
leave the beast no time to work itself up to a decision.

The cage which he entered contained two lions. One was large, grumbling,
and fierce, who had passed a part of his life in the wilds of Africa;
the other, and smaller of the two, was an emasculated beast, born behind
the bars, and was as tractable as the animal usually is that has never
known freedom. The performance consisted of three parts. The first was
of the kind common to menageries. The tamer entered by the little door
in a corner, with the celerity which all tamers employ, and stood for a
moment in the statuesque immobility to which they are also given, in
coming before the public. Having done this, he started forward with the
black rod in his left hand, approached the animals, driving them to the
end of the cage, the end of the rod nearly touching their faces. Here
they stood under protest, growling. Then he raised his whip, struck the
smaller beast, making it run from one end of the cage to the other, and
leap over his shoulder in a way familiar to people who have visited a
menagerie. He threw it down, put his foot on its prostrate body, and
folded his arms in the character of victor. He lay down on it, pulled
open its jaws, and inserted his head therein. Then he jumped up and
dismissed it, with a cut of the whip, to one corner. During this time
the larger lion had been