or beast recovered. From that time he became so tame,
and was so attached to his benefactor, that he afterwards ate from his
hand and followed him like a dog, with only a string tied round his
neck.

M. Felix, one of the keepers of the animals of the Menagerie in Paris,
became so ill, that another person was obliged to perform his duty. A
male lion, whom, with a female, he himself had brought to the place,
remained constantly at one end of his cage, and refused to eat anything
given him by the stranger, at whom he often roared. He even disliked the
company of the female, and paid no attention to her. The animal was
supposed to be ill, and yet no one dared to approach him. At length M.
Felix recovered, and intending to surprise the lion, showed his face
between the bars. In a moment the beast made a bound, leaped against the
bars, caressed him with his paws, licked his face, and trembled with
pleasure. The female also ran to him; but the lion drove her back, as if
she were not to snatch any of the favours from Felix, and he was about
to quarrel with her. The keeper then entered the cage, and caressed them
by turns, and after that often went to them, and had complete control
over them. They would obey all his commands, and all their recompense
was to lick his hand.

A curious circumstance took place at New Orleans in the year 1832, when
a bear was let down into the cage of an old African lion, supposing it
would be torn to pieces. As many people were assembled to see the
barbarous exhibition, the bear placed himself in a fighting posture, and
flew at the lion; but, to the great disappointment of all present, the
lion placed his paw upon the bear's head, as if to express his pity, and
tried to make friends with him. He took the bear under his protection,
suffered no one to approach close to the cage, and did not sleep till
he was exhausted, so closely did he watch over his new friend. He
suffered the bear to eat, but long refused food for himself, and when
the last accounts were received, continued to guard the bear as
jealously as possible.

The lioness has no mane; is smaller, and more slender in her proportions
than the male; she carries her head even with the line of her back, and
wants the majestic courage of the lion, but she is more agile. Her
temper is more irritable, and Mr. Gordon Cumming says:--"She is more
dangerous before she has been a mother; yet every vestige of tameness or
docility vanishes when she _is