confusion. I had not been there but a few
minutes, when the beef-eaters, as they were called, who played the
music outside, came in with torches and loaded muskets. The sight
which presented itself was truly shocking; twenty or thirty men,
women, and children, lay on the ground, and I thought at first the
lioness had killed them all, but they were only in fits, or had been
trampled down by the crowd. No one was seriously hurt. As for the
lioness, she was not to be found; and as soon as it was ascertained
that she had escaped, there was as much terror and scampering away
outside, as there had been in the menagerie. It appeared afterwards,
that the animal had been as much frightened as we had been, and had
secreted himself under one of the wagons. It was sometime before she
could be found. At last O'Brien who was a very brave fellow, went
a-head of the beef-eaters, and saw her eyes glaring. They borrowed a
net or two from the carts which had brought calves to the fair, and
threw them over her. When she was fairly entangled, they dragged her
by the tail into the menagerie. All this while I had remained very
quietly in the den, but when I perceived that its lawful owner had
come back again to retake possession, I thought it was time to come
out; so I called to my messmates, who with O'Brien were assisting the
beef-eaters. They had not discovered me, and laughed very much when
they saw where I was. One of the midshipmen shot the bolt of the door,
so that I could not jump out, and then stirred me up with a long pole.
At last I contrived to unbolt it again, and got out, when they laughed
still more, at the seat of my trousers being torn off. It was not
exactly a laughing matter to me, although I had to congratulate myself
upon a very lucky escape: and so did my messmates think, when I
narrated my adventures. The pelican was the worst part of the
business. O'Brien lent me a dark silk handkerchief, which I tied
round my waist, and let drop behind, so that my misfortunes might not
attract any notice, and then we quitted the menagerie; but I was so
stiff that I could scarcely walk.

SCOTCH "BLUID."

We had a new messmate of the name of M'Foy. I was on the quarter-deck
when he came on board and presented a letter to the captain, inquiring
first if his name was "Captain Sauvage." He was a florid young man
nearly six feet high, with sandy hair, yet very good-looking. As his
career in the service was very short, I will tell at o