ll attention.

At this moment, to the consternation of the children, the "artist of
the whip" enters the ring in a very bad humor, because his trial with
a lion had entirely failed.

This lion, who was bald from old age, desired only to be let alone,
had no inclination to attack the "artist," and hid himself from the
lash of the whip in a far corner of the cage. The manager thought with
despair that if this loyal disposition remained with the lion until
the evening the contest with the whip would be a failure; for to fight
a lion who slinks away needs no more art than to eat a lobster from
his tail. The bad temper of the proprietor became still worse when he
learned from the ticket seller that he was disposing of no seats in
the "gods;" that the Cahuillas evidently had spent all their money
that they had earned in the vineyards for drinks, and that they came
to his window and offered their blankets, marked "U. S.," or their
wives, especially the old ones, in exchange for tickets of admission.
The lack of money among the Cahuillas was no small loss for the
"artist of the whip;" for he counted on a "crowded house," and if the
seats in the "gods" were not sold no "crowded house" was obtainable;
therefore the manager wished at this moment that all the Indians had
but one back, and that he might give an exhibition of his skill with
the whip on that one back, in the presence of all Anaheim. Thus he
felt as he entered the ring, and seeing the horse standing idle under
the parapet, he felt like jumping with anger. Where are Orso and
Jenny? Shading his eyes with his hand he looked all around the circus,
and observed in a bright beam, Orso, and Jenny kneeling before him
with her elbows resting on his knees. At this sight he let the lash of
his whip trail on the ground.

"Orso!"

If lightning had struck in the midst of the children they could not
have been more startled. Orso jumped to his feet and descended in the
passageway between the benches with the hasty movement of an animal
who comes to his master at his call; behind him followed Jenny with
eyes wide open from fright, and clutching the benches as she passed
them.

Orso, on entering the ring, stopped by the parapet, gloomy and silent,
the gray light from above bringing into relief his Herculean trunk
upon its short legs.

"Nearer," cried out the manager in a hoarse voice; meanwhile the lash
of his long whip moved upon the sand with a threatening motion, like
the ta