so light in springing, that the brute was likely to be on them at any moment. But they all arrived safely at the unfinished house, and, carrying a thick rope and a loaded pistol, Mr. Bostock led the way. They had gone nearly all over the house-the man having said he last saw it going up-stairs-when they cautiously descended to the cellar, and there, in a corner, lying down quietly and comfortably, was the panther. In front of him were a few feathers and other remains of some chickens which he had evidently found and helped himself to. At sight of the intruders he kept quite still, but drew back his lips showing his teeth and breathing in a savage, throaty man ner. Keeping very quiet, the men tried to lasso it with the rope, but the panther was too quick each time, and dodged it most skilfully. They had hoped to capture it in this manner and draw it into the shifting-cage, but soon found that this was out of the question. Then Mr. Bostock, taking a loaded pistol in one hand, and holding a wooden shutter in front of him as a shield with the other, went in to drive it out. But he had no sooner put one foot inside than the panther charged furiously at him, throwing him to the ground and scratching him terribly on one arm. At the same time he knocked the weapon out of his hand. Knowing well that all panthers go for the throat in any attack, Mr. Bostock quickly grasped it round the neck, and being a very muscular man, succeeded in partially choking it for a moment, and thus causing it to pause. This pause was the creature's undoing and Mr. Bostock's salvation. For, with a quick movement, Mr. Bostock threw himself on the panther. Letting his full weight rest on the savage brute, it was nearly suffocated, and could only struggle feebly. But this could not be kept up long, so with marvelous rapidity the men fastened ropes round its feet and then its body, and got it safely into the den. Not a man but was streaming with perspiration, and Mr. Bostock was bleeding profusely, so no time was lost in getting back and obtaining medical assistance. It took some time to recover from those terrible scratches, for all wounds from wild animals are peculiarly painful; but the marks remained for life. Of course, when any wild animal does get out, it is rarely, indeed, but some one suffers for it in some way; but there have been other cases which have been rather amusing. Nearly all New Yorkers can remember when a very young puma got out of its cage in the New York Zoölogical Park, and was away for several days. It was only a baby, and more like a young play ful papers got excited over it at last, and said it was time some steps were taken to recapture it, and so protect the public from a wild animal at large. And just at this time a farmer's wife, living about a couple of miles from the park, went out one morning to feed her chickens, and found all the hens, with their little broods, cuddled up in a frightened state in a corner of the yard. After looking round for hawks and seeing no signs of any, she went into one of the large coops, and there in the corner, licking its paws gravely, was a tawny-looking cat, who looked at her quietly for a few moments, and then went on licking its paws as before. And this "quiet-looking cat," who licked up some milk from a saucer which the farmer's wife offered it, was the "dangerous wild animal" which the papers and public had been making such a fuss about. Information was at once sent to the park, and the keeper came and took back his lost pet, and so that was the last of it; except that many people went after this to look at the unique incident is that of a lion making its escape in Australia, only a short time ago. The story has been given me by an authority whose word is absolutely reliable, and has not yet been heard of in this country or in Europe. The incident took place in Melbourne. It seems that the lion, a full-grown male, was one of a group performing at that time in a large music-hall. One afternoon, after the performance, in some way his cage was left open, and the lion very quietly walked out of the stagedoor and down the street. At first, no one seemed to notice him, but after a while he met a lady, who looked at him for a moment, and then, suddenly realizing that she had actually encountered a live lion, she promptly fainted away. The lion turned, sniffed at her contemptuously, and evidently not considering her interesting, passed on. By this time he had been seen, and people flew from him in all directions, but the lion kept on his way quietly, and, curiously enough, walked right up one of the principal streets in Mel tunately some one had the presence of mind to shut the outer door as well, so he was confined to the vestibules and stairs. NOT ANGRY-JUST YAWNING. His imprisonment at first simply bored himindeed, he sat down and yawned several times. Then, after walking round and making a quiet tour of inspection, he began to get restless, and, wanting to get out, spent his time in rushing up and down the stairs, roaring at the top of his powerful voice. Meanwhile, the immense crowd outside which had quickly gathered, shouted loud and futile advice to the imprisoned people inside, whose feelings can better be imagined than described. Finally, his trainer arrived just when every one was becoming desperate, and, backing the cage which he had brought with him to the door, invited the lion, with kind words (and a piece of meat) to enter it. And the lion walked placidly into the cage, ate his piece of meat, and then, settling himself down comfortably, went sound asleep! It would have been an interesting study in physiognomy to see the various expressions on the faces of the officials and employees of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals as the lion raced up and down the stairs of their building, roaring at the top of his voice, and incidentally giving big thumps at the doors occasionally with his heavy tail as he passed by. But when the lion had safely departed, and the doors were opened once more, there can be no doubt that very much the same sort of expression then rested on every face there-an expression of immense relief! TRY IT BY KATHERINE BASTEDO SOME say that long, hard work is the secret of success; I would n't say to shirk-but when you work, why work;- If you are playing tennis, try hard for every ball, And, when the set is done, if you 've lost or if you 've won, When you are studying Latin, don't think of all the French Just stick to what you 're at, and you 'll soon discover that When there's work for you to do, get it done and then you 're through; Success is hindered by procrastination; You are sure to do your best if with sturdy pluck and zest You work and play with steady concentration. BY EUNICE FULLER V. THE MAN WHO WENT TO THE You who scoff at tales of giants, Who had long with giants been; Then, when doubting folk confront you, Flout your faith, and mock your fear, Tell them of this wise man, won't you? Read them what 's recorded here. Seymour Barnard. As the world grew older and ways became stiffer, there came a dreadfully dull time when nothing ever happened by magic, and everything could be explained by a Reason. Worn out by this heavy atmosphere, the gods left the earth for the clouds, and the fairies vanished into moonlight and mist. As for the giants, who had been so neighborly, they disappeared altogether. No frightened herdboy following a cry through the moonlit forest came upon their towering figures. No Indian pushing out over the misty sea was hailed by a giant canoe. People became quite superior and scornful. There was hardly a person who would discuss giants seriously. The grown-ups would only sniff; and even the children, who were young enough to know better, would cry, "Pooh! There never were any giants!" Oddly enough, it happened that one of the most matter-of-fact persons of all, an Englishman and a scientist, came suddenly upon the giants' country. After that, you may be sure, the people who had been the first to scoff whenever giants were mentioned, became quite silent and respectful. Here is the Englishman's own story of the adventure, almost as he wrote it in his stiff, honest, grown-up way: IN June, 1702, I, Lemuel Gulliver, ship's surgeon, went on board the merchant-vessel Adventure bound for Surat. Rounding the Cape of Good Hope, we had a good voyage through the Straits of Madagascar. But just south of the equator, a violent gale sprang up, and continuing for days, drove us before it beyond the Spice Islands. Suddenly the wind dropped and there was a perfect calm. I was delighted, but the captain, who knew those seas, bade us all prepare for a storm. The next day, just as he had said, a wind called the Southern monsoon set in. We reefed as best we armed, in the long-boat, with buckets for water. I asked his leave to go with them, to see the country and make what discoveries I could. When we came to land, we saw no river or spring, nor any sign of inhabitants. Our men wandered on the shore, hoping to find some fresh water near the sea, and I walked alone on the other side where the country was all barren and rocky. Beginning to be tired, I started back toward the shore, only to see our men already in the boat rowing for dear life to the ship. I was going to hollo to them when I saw a huge creature walking after them in the sea. The water was hardly to his knees, and he took prodigious strides. But our men had the start of him by half a league, and, as the sea thereabout is full of sharp-pointed rocks, the monster was not able to overtake the boat. This I was told afterward, for I dared not stay to see, but ran as fast as I could up a steep hill. I came upon a highroad, for so I took it to be, though it served the inhabitants only as a footpath through a field of barley. Here I walked for an hour, but could see little, for the grain rose forty feet into the air on either side. Coming at last to the end of the field, I found it fenced in with a hedge one hundred feet high. I was trying to find a gap in the hedge when I saw a man as tall as a church-steeple approaching the stile. Hiding myself in the grain, I heard him call, but the noise was so high in the air that at first I thought it was thunder. Immediately seven monsters, each with a reaping-hook as big as six scythes, came to reap the grain in the field where I was. I kept as far from them as I could, but I could move only with great difficulty, for the barleystalks were sometimes less than a foot apart, so that I could hardly squeeze between them. However, I struggled on till I came to a part of the field where the grain had been beaten down by the rain and wind. Here it was impossible to advance a step, for the stalks were so interwoven that I could not creep between, and the beards of the barley were so strong and pointed that they pierced through my clothes. Hearing the reapers close behind me, I threw myself down between two ridges, overcome with despair. The next moment, I saw an immense foot not ten yards away and the blinding gleam of a great reaping-hook above my head. I screamed as loud as fear could make me. The huge reaper stopped short, and, looking about on the ground for some time, finally spied me. He considered awhile, as if he were planning how he could pick up a small, dangerous animal so that it could. neither bite nor scratch him. At last he ventured to take me up by the middle, between his forefinger and thumb, and held me within three yards of his eyes. Good fortune gave me so much presence of "THE BABY SUDDENLY SEIZED ME BY THE MIDdle." (SEE NEXT PAGE.) mind that I resolved not to struggle as he held me in the air about sixty feet from the ground, although he grievously pinched my sides. In |