. Here's an
advertisement asking for hands in a kind of private zoo. I know the
show, and a friend of mine, an old soldier like myself, is office-man,
and keeps the books. Take a job there for a few months and see how you
like the life, and then, if roughing it suits you, join the army. Even
then you'll be too young; but you're big and strong, and a few months
won't make a great deal of difference."

"But I know nothing about animals," said Phil doubtfully. "I've ridden
a horse occasionally, and always had a dog when possible. What does the
advertisement say? Surely far more experience than I have had is
wanted?"

"Here you are, sir. Read it, and judge for yourself. It's as fine an
offer, and as good an opportunity for you to see what life is in the
rough, as you could wish for."

Phil took the paper and read:

_Wanted, a few hands in a large private menagerie. Applicants must be
young and active, prepared to make themselves useful in any way, and
must not object to travelling_.

Then it concluded by giving the address, which was in the suburbs of
London.

"Well, what do you make of it?" asked the old soldier, who had watched
his face closely all the time.

"It certainly reads in a most inviting manner," Phil replied
hesitatingly; "but still I scarcely think it would suit me, for I really
have had no experience to teach me how to make myself useful. I should
be a raw hand who was always in the way, and should be dismissed before
a week had passed."

"You've no need to worry about that, I can assure you, sir," the
sergeant-major answered encouragingly. "My friend will see that you
have a fair chance given you, and I'll wager that a fortnight will set
you on your feet and make you as knowing as those who've been working a
year and longer with the firm. Mind you, though, I've scarcely more
than an idea what is really required. Anyone can make himself useful if
shown the way, but there must be a lot of work that's difficult and
p'r'aps dangerous. One thing I've learnt from Timms, and that is, that
animals has to be taken by road to various parties, and that means kind
of camp or gipsy life at times. Now look you here, my lad. Just you go
right off, read the 'vertisement again, and then think the matter over.
It don't do to jump into these affairs, for you might find it a case of
`out of the frying-pan into the fire'. There's the place; top of the
centre column. Come back this evening and tell m