the boys miss day-school. Some of them attend night-school; others have tutors; still others are coached by their parents. An alert, bright, energetic boy will learn very many things during the four years he may serve as a page, because he comes in contact with the best and broadest minds in the nation; he hears affairs of national importance discussed. The senators, as a rule, are devoted to the pages, and will often patiently explain a matter in which a boy is interested. The page who will stop, look, listen, and learn has an immense advantage over other boys.

That many of them have profited by the association and the environment is shown by the fact that a large number of them have turned out to be men of prominence and affairs. Some who

Moore, the present commissioner of patents. So were Admiral Fraily, General John W. Wilson, David I. Walsh, former governor of Massachusetts, Charles S. Sloan, geographer of the Census, William Delaney Hunter, consul at Nice, France, George P. Foster, Director of the Bureau of Engraving and Printing in Cuba, and a host of other notable, successful men. In a book written by Christian Eckloff, the oldest living page, it is stated that there are nearly 300 former pages in state legislatures to-day, and most of them are aspiring to return to Congress as members. The House of Representatives, by the way, also has pages, but they are young men instead of boys, and, therefore, not nearly so interesting!

The first record of pages dates back to 1809, and since then there have been 8029 employed in this capacity. George B. Cortelyou, private secretary of both President McKinley and President Roosevelt, was one of the 8029. So was Augustus Thomas, one of the most noted and successful of American playwrights.

Always there are more applicants for the coveted places than openings to be filled. Whenever possible, a vacant position is given to a boy whose family or education will be assisted by the monthly amount earned. The pages, who are appointed by the sergeant-at-arms of the Senate, Charles P. Higgins, upon the recommendation of senators, may begin service at the age of twelve. Carl Loeffler, who at present holds the important position of assistant doorkeeper, was made a page in 1889, and has worked his way steadily upward.

Sometimes, when the Senate adjourns early or unexpectedly, the pages have a merry half-hour to themselves. Taking possession of the senatechamber, they proceed to elect and solemnly induct into office a vice-president. The rest of them scurry into the seats just vacated by dignified and mighty senators, and each proceeds to imitate the pose and characteristics of the member whose seat he happens to occupy. Copying their elders with care, the first bill invariably introduced is one "to shorten the hours and lengthen the pay of the honorable pages." Needless to state, the bill goes through without a dissenting page-vote, and amid much acclaim. All work and no play would make even a Senate page a dull boy; so the officers of the upper branch of Congress indulgently let the lads have their own good time once in a while. It has even been whispered that certain senators have secreted themselves in cloak-room or lobby and watched with amusement their own dignity burlesqued by the daring youngsters.

A LION CUB.

WITH every care and precaution, the best of locks and bolts, and in spite of much thought and anxiety concerning the matter, wild animals will occasionally, in some way or another, make their escape when in captivity, and these escapes take place, naturally, when least. expected.

When every one is keenly on the alert, continually in fear of something happening to

the

wild creatures, or that they may possibly break their bounds, nothing, as a rule, happens. But just when all seems undoubtedly safe, and the owners and trainers, or keepers of the animals, feel entirely at ease, then comes some little incident which not only makes every one doubly cautious, but in many cases extremely uncomfortable.

In every menagerie, no matter how carefully guarded, there comes some time or other when the animals break out, in nearly all cases with quite as much surprise to themselves as to every one else. A bolt, perhaps, has not been driven firmly into its socket, a gate not properly fastened, a door not quite shut. In one wild animal show in Paris, a trainer, having finished his performance with his lions, seen them safely into their cages behind the runway, given each one his small piece of meat-as a reward for doing well-and, as he thought, safely fastened them in, went to his supper in another part of the show.

When in the middle of his supper, he and his wife heard something rubbing against the door of their living-room, and the trainer, thinking it was his boar-hound, got up and opened the door, when in walked one of his largest lions! With great presence of mind the trainer kept him until other trainers came and the lion was induced to go back to his cage again, which he did

very quietly and without offering any objection. On examining the lock of his cage door, it was found that the bolt ran rather too easily, and it was supposed that the lion, in rubbing himself against the door, jolted the bolt back, and, as the door opened, he naturally walked out. It was not possible for him to get anywhere outside the trainers' precincts, but there was the probability that, had he met a strange trainer unexpectedly, a dozen dreadful things might have happened. As it was, it speaks volumes for his trainer that the animal found his way along the passage and up three steps to his room, and behaved as though he did that sort of "calling" every day of his life. As a rule, lions do not often try to get out when in captivity. Other animals, like bears,

are sometimes lined with zinc or sheet-iron. Even then, an indefatigable bear has been known to get one or two claws underneath the zinc or sheet-iron, and, when once he has accomplished this, a good wrench will make an excellent beginning for ripping off the whole lining.

Most bears are now kept in stone dens, surrounded by iron railings. But even in these cases bears have been known to get out. Two remarkable escapes took place in the London Zoological Gardens sometime ago. A huge polar bear was found about six o'clock one morning sitting quite comfortably among the shrubs in the Gardens, licking his paws.

The alarm was at once given, and the keepers, armed with every kind of implement they could pick up on the way, hastened to the spot. The polar bear stopped sucking his paws to look quietly at the many men looking at him, and, evi

thing to do. One keeper was armed with a strong lasso; this he threw with great dexterity, and luckily threw it right over the bear's head.

The great creature did not appear to mind this, however, and at once went off into a swinging stride. Seeing some railings just in front of him, he climbed over, no doubt with the intention of continuing his promenade on the other side. But the men held on for dear life, while the tighter and harder they pulled, the tighter grew the cord around the bear's neck, until he was nearly suffocated. Mad with rage, the bear suddenly put forth all his strength, and snapped off the cord close to his ear, leaving the tight noose still round his neck. But a few struggles with his strong claws soon loosened that, and off he went again, shaking his shaggy white body from side to side, and keeping a very close watch on the men who were following him.

Whenever they came too close, he would stop and turn round suddenly; his attitude was unmistakably dangerous. It was useless to attack him; besides, he was a most valuable animal, and, as long as he kept in the Gardens, they were anxious not to harm him. Whenever he showed any signs of going near the entrances, he was turned carefully in another direction, and after about three hours' hard work, he was at last driven into the passage which leads to the carnivora dens. As it was luckily quite near to his own home, he was finally driven behind his bars again without being hurt in any way. He seemed rather glad to be back, and soon settled down, appearing to forget all about it. But the poor, tired keepers did not so quickly recover from the effects of their struggle.

Another bear who got out, belonging to these same Gardens, was a brown bear. In some way he managed actually to climb up his chain to the top of the bear-pit and jump off! He raced round the Gardens, turned over a number of chairs and tea-tables, and seemed to be in an exceptionally bad temper. Several keepers came up, and, seeing them, the bear decided to turn back again. He ran along the top of the terrace which leads to the bear-pit, and, when he reached it, looked down thoughtfully. Afraid that he might turn back again, one of the keepers rushed forward and, with an old broom, gave the bear such a sudden and unexpected push, that he tumbled headlong into the pit again; and no one seemed more surprised than he was himself!

In the Belle Vue Zoological Gardens, Manchester, England, a leopard one night got out from

chickens. The animal was so surprised that it walked straight back into its own cage, and stood quietly looking at her while she fastened him in.

Perhaps one of the most exciting escapes of a hippopotamus is that which happened to a young one belonging to Mr. Carl Hagenbeck. This animal had just been purchased by Mr. Hagenbeck in South Germany, and, when it arrived at Hamburg, the arduous task of transferring it to the wagon, and then from the wagon to the stable, took place. The first was accomplished without any great difficulty, but for some reason or other, the huge animal did not appear to want to leave the wagon. She took various delicacies which were offered her, and then drew inside again.

They were all very patient with her, but when several hours had been wasted in this manner and no progress had been made, it was decided to try some other method. So some went back of her and gave her several good hard blows, but this, instead of making her come out, only caused her to turn round and try to get at the men. Then Mr. Hagenbeck tried himself, and just as he had got the men back of her a second time, the huge

"LIFTING UP HER APRON, SHE 'SHOOED

its cage, and walked about the lion-house sniffing, and evidently very much puzzled. A woman, who was some relation to one of the officials of the Gardens, saw it and most courageously went straight into the lions' house; lifting up her apron, she "shooed" it, as she did her hens and

R BRUCE HORTA

IT, AS SHE DID HER HENS AND CHICKENS."

animal suddenly turned round again in a fury and charged the barrier, sending it down with a crash and burying the men underneath.

As the hippopotamus was rushing out of the wagon at the men, Mr. Hagenbeck, knowing her intentions, tore up to her and gave her a hard

kick. The kick could not possibly hurt such a thick-skinned animal, but it turned her attention away from the men to Mr. Hagenbeck himself,

rushing round to the door of the stall, quickly closed it. The hippopotamus's freedom was at an end, and she was a prisoner for life! To the onlookers, had it not been for the great danger, it would have been a most comical sight, but no one laughed until it was all over. It was too serious.

When moving from one place to another a short time ago, a large black panther, which had just arrived in Mr. Frank Bostock's show, in company with three other panthers, caused great excitement by escaping. While

moving them from their traveling cages to their permanent dens, the black one-the most savage and dangerous of all panthers-in spite of the most careful precautions, slipped out and disappeared.

The show was exhibiting just then in France, in a large open part of the country, a long way from buildings of any kind, and, it being a jetblack night, and the animal as black as the night, the task of finding it was almost impossible. Diligent search was kept up until morning and throughout the day, but without the slightest sign of the panther. The proprietor was terribly worried, as it might mean a bad accident at any moment, for women and children were coming in large crowds to the performance.

But the morning afterward, a working-man. came to the show and said casually that, in the house in which he was working-a new one in course of building-he had seen a very large black cat-enormous it was, and he wondered if it could be the panther which the show people had lost. All this in the most unconcerned manner, the man evidently not having the least idea of the great danger and of the ferocity of the animal.

Without losing a moment, Mr. Bostock, with several of his best men, took a large shiftingden, and, well armed, they sallied forth, keeping a sharp lookout on all sides, for black panthers are so marvelously quick in their movements and