here with its claws.
He was so good as to show me his shoulder, which looked as if he had
been profusely vaccinated in the wrong place. A much more dangerous, if
less painful, experience was his daily (and nightly) doings with the
lions. There were two of them, with a lioness of an uncertain temper,
who jumped through hoops at his imperious bidding with many a growl and
snarl of remonstrance.

[Illustration: IT 'TOOK OFF' FROM HIS SHOULDER]

'Are you never afraid?' I once asked him tentatively.

'If I was,' he answered, quietly, but not contemptuously, 'I might count
myself from that moment a dead man. Then, you see, I have my whip.' It
was a carter's whip, good to keep off a dog, but scarcely a lion. 'The
handle is loaded,' he explained, 'and I know exactly where to hit 'em
with it, if the worst comes to the worst.' If I remember right, it was
the tip of the nose.

[Illustration: MR. PAYN'S STUDY]

His conversation was delightful, and he often honoured me with his
company at supper, when the toils and perils of the day were o'er. Upon
the whole, though I have since known many other eminent persons, he has
left a more marked impression on me than any of them, and it is no
wonder that in those youthful days he influenced my imagination. His
autobiography, without his having the least suspicion of the
appropriation, became in fact _my_ autobiography, as may be read (if
there is anybody who has not enjoyed that treat) in 'The Family
Scapegrace.' But, as my predecessors in the field of Fiction were wont
to exclaim, 'I am anticipating.'

Another official connected with the menagerie gave daily lectures upon
the animals, so curiously dry and grave that they filled me with
admiration; he was like an embodiment of the answers to 'Mangnall's
Questions.' Whatever suspicions Tickeracandua may have subsequently
entertained of me, I am quite sure that 'Mr. Mopes' would no more have
seen himself in the portrait I drew of him than would the animals under
his charge, if their attention had been drawn to them, have recognised
their counterfeit presentments outside the show. I also became
acquainted with the Earthman and Earthwoman, the slaughterman of the
establishment, Mr. and Mrs. Tredgold (its proprietors), and other
individuals seldom met with in ordinary society.

The adventures of 'Richard Arbour' were, therefore, cut out for me in a
most convenient and unexpected fashion, but I had the intelligence to
perceive that thoug