ceed, however. The bull was wide awake, and could not let the
gentleman off so cheap. The poor fellow then attempted to climb a tree.
But the enraged animal would not permit him to do that. The fiddler, who
had heard something about the wonderful power of music in subduing the
rage of some of the lower animals, thinking of nothing else that he
could do for his protection, got behind the tree, and commenced playing,
literally for his life. Strange as it may appear, the animal was calmed
at once, and appeared to be delighted with the music. By and by, the
fiddler, finding that his enemy was entirely pacified, stopped playing,
and started homeward, as fast as his legs would carry him. But the bull
would not allow him to escape, and made after him. The poor fellow,
fearing he should be killed, stopped, and went to fiddling again. The
animal was pacified, as before. Our hero then plied the bow until his
arm ached, and seizing, as he supposed, a favorable opportunity, he made
another effort to run away. He was probably not accustomed to fiddle
without pay, and he was pretty sure the customer he was now playing for
intended to get his music for nothing. Well, the fiddler was no more
successful this time than he was before. The fury of the bull returned,
as soon as the strains ceased; and at last, the poor man surrendered
himself to his fate, and actually played for the bull until six
o'clock--about three hours in all--when some people came to his rescue.
He must have been pretty well convinced, I think, while he was
entertaining the bull in that manner, that

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast."

The Lama.

This animal, which belongs to the same family with the camel, is a
native of some parts of South America, and is used as a beast of burden.
He is capable of carrying from one hundred to one hundred and fifty
pounds, and on the steep places where he is usually employed, will walk
with his load twelve or fifteen miles a day. When lamas get weary, it is
said they will stop, and scarcely any severity can compel them to go on.
Some of the accounts of these singular animals represent them as having
a bad trick of _spitting_, when they do not like their treatment. In
this respect, they resemble a great many strange sort of men I have met
with on our side of the equator, who will spit from morning till night,
sometimes on the carpet, too, on account of a very nauseous weed they
have in their mouths--with this