As Mr. Chaillu has written several books for young folks, in which he
tells his experience with gorillas, I shall not relate any of his
wonderful adventures with these animals, in which he killed some
enormous fellows and at different times captured young ones, all of
which, however, soon died. But the researches of this indefatigable
and intrepid explorer have proved that the gorilla is, as the negroes
reported him to be, a most terrible animal to encounter. When found,
he often comes forward to meet the hunter, roaring like a great lion,
and beating his breast in defiance. If a rifle-ball does not quickly
put an end to him, he will rush upon his assailants, and one blow from
his powerful arm will be enough to stretch a man senseless or dead
upon the ground.

[Illustration: "FIGHT WITH A GORILLA."]

In a hand-to-hand combat with a gorilla, a man, even though armed
with a knife, has not the slightest chance for his life.

If we should be fortunate enough to shoot a gorilla, we may call
ourselves great hunters, even without counting in the bears, the
rhinoceroses, the tigers, and the other animals.

And when we return, proud and satisfied with our endeavors, we will
prove to the poor fellows who were obliged to stay at home and shoot
tit-birds and rabbits, with real guns, what an easy thing it is to
hunt the biggest kind of game--in a book.

THE BOOTBLACK'S DOG.

[Illustration]

Once upon a time there lived, in Paris, a bootblack. He was not a boy,
but a man, and he had a family to support. The profits of his business
would have been sufficient for his humble wants and those of his
family had it not been for one circumstance, which made trade very
dull with him. And that disastrous circumstance was this: nearly every
one who passed his stand had their boots and shoes already blackened!
Now this was hard upon our friend. There was nothing to astonish him
in the fact of so many persons passing with polished boots, for his
stand was in the middle of a block, and there were bootblacks at each
corner. But all he could do was to bear his fate as patiently as
possible, and black the few boots which came to him, and talk to his
dog, his only companion, as he sat all day on the sidewalk by his box.

One day, when he had just blackened his own boots (he did not charge
himself anything--he only did it so as to have the air of being busy),
his dog came running up to him from the muddy street, and accidentally
p