ake him less like the
scornful antelope.
He lives in dense forests, and eats grass as a cow does, and is very
shy; and the only people who have seen him alive are the natives, who
told an Englishman about him, and then managed to shoot one, and bring
its skin to sell to the Englishman. But now that he is known of, it will
probably not be long before a live one is captured. He is so gentle that
they might make him into what is called a domestic animal, like the cow;
if he once understood that men were his friends and did not want to hurt
him, then his shyness might vanish, and his gentleness would make him
safe and easy to deal with.
In this gallery we see all the animals of the Zoo, stuffed and peaceful.
The tiger no longer prowls round and round his cage when the dinner-hour
draws near, he will never be hungry again; the lion no longer is angry
when the crowd stare, he cannot see them; the patient elephant has given
up for ever carrying children on his back, and the hippo has ceased to
wallow in the waters of his beloved bath. Even the silver-white polar
bear does not mind the heat, and pines no longer for his ice and snow.
All are at rest, at rest!
CHAPTER XXIV
WESTMINSTER ABBEY, ST. PAUL'S, AND THE CENOTAPH
There are two great cathedrals in London called Westminster Abbey and
St. Paul's. Westminster is much the older of the two, for, as you have
heard, St. Paul's was burnt down in the Great Fire and entirely rebuilt
then, so that it is not yet two hundred and fifty years old, but
Westminster is much more ancient. Long years ago, before the Saxons
invaded England, there was some sort of church at this place built by
monks. In those days there were not all the bridges there are now over
the river, but only one, London Bridge, and as there was a ford or
shallow place in the water near Westminster, many people who were
travelling and wanted to cross the river came down here, where they
could wade across without fear.
In very early times Westminster was an island called the Isle of
Thorney, from the brambles that grew over it. The island lay very low,
so that when the tide swept up the river it stood but little above the
water; and even after many years, when the ditch running round the
island was dried up, yet still the land was marshy. It was an odd place
to choose for the building of a church. Then, as you have read in
history, came the invasion of the Saxons, and the monks had to fly and
leave th
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