The Sun.
London, England, 1866-04-05 00:00:00

BOXING A TIGER.

Though I have had much to do with live lions, yet one
day we had great fun with a young tiger. My friend Mr.
Bartlett kindly sent over to the Regent's Park barracks, to
report that they were all ready to " pack up a tiger," and
would I come over ? Of course, I was soon at the gardens,
and a curious scene took place.

The tiger to be " packed up" was about the size of a
good big sheep-dog (only, of course, longer in the body).
She had been captured as a cub, and brought over from
India on board ship, where she had been made a great
pet of by the sailors, and was in consequence pretty tame.
" Puss" (for that was her name) was in one of the big dens
next the large lions, having for her playmate a young
leopard.
The box in which she was to be placed was wheeled up
in front of the den, and placed on its side ; it was simply a
large box with strong broad wooden bars on one side (the
two centre ones taken cut), and two strong bits of wood so
arranged as to be screwed down in front of all the bars
when the beast was safe inside. I write when, because it
proved no easy task to get her into this box. All prelimi-
naries being arranged, Cocksedge, the keeper, who knows
no fear with his beasts, went into the den with the tiger,
and called "Puss, puss, puss," in an amiable manner. The
tiger came bounding up in a kitten-like fashion ; she car-
ried her tail erect over her back, and then raising her fur,
began to purr and rub herself against his legs. Cocksedge
then took a bit of rope out of one of his capacious pockets,
and proceeded to pass the end of it under Puss's collar.
Puss in the meantime began to play with the slack of the
rope, as though it was great fun. Cocksedge, having fixed
the rope, began to draw Puss gently toward the door.
She did not seem to care about this very much, but still

thinking that " a romp" was meant, patted the rope with
her paws. Cocksedge, however, got outside the door of
the cage, and pulled somewhat harder. Puss began to
think that something more than a game of play was meant,
so she extended her feet, and pulled well backwards, and
her expression seemed to say, " Two can play at that game,
my friend."
Another keeper then got into the den, and giving her a
gontle lift up behind, out she went of the open door on to
the stone space which is railed off to keep visitors from
the bars of the dens. The moment Puss felt she was out
of the cage, down she crouched, lashing her tail, as though
determined not to move an inch. The box was brought

nearer, and the rope passed in round one of the bars, and
then outside again. The keepers began to pull gently and
slowly upon it, the only result being to bring the "moun-
tain to llahomet"—i.e., the box to the Puss, not the Puss
to the box.
When the box was close to her head, they gave a sudden
pull on the rope, and at the same time advanced the box
quite close to her. The result was most laughable. Has
the reader ever witnessed the execution of " Punch," by
hanging in that most popular of street performances ?
"Punch," it may be recollected, cannot bo made to under-
stand where he is to place his head. In like manner, Puss
could not understand what benefits could be derived from

placing her head into the opening of the box before her;
so the result of the pull on the rope, and the advancing of
the box, and the lifting of her hind-quarters, was simply
to bring her head well on to the top of the box, several
inches above the lid, her sprawling arms and legs being
extended, spread-eagle fashion, in front of it. " Try
again," therefore, was the word. "Look out," said I to
Cocksedge, "the strap round Puss's neck is only leather,
and is very likely to give way." Accordingly, on the next
trial, smack it went, and Puss, feeling herself loose and
free, instantly made a bolt for it. Cocksedge, with his
usual coolness and courage, snatched at her as she was
slouching quickly away, and got hold of her tail.
Like the cats used in that refined but barbarous punish-
ment of the poor niggers, where a common house cat is
placed on the poor black man's back, and her tail smartly
pulled, so did "our Puss" instantly extend all her sharp
talons, and hold on, as well as she could, to the stones,
thus giving time and opportunity for the rope (without
the strap) again to be placed round her neck. A trial was
again made to get her into the box ; but Puss, having by
this time found out that Cocksedgo was in earnest, showed
fight in the most wonderful manner. She put back her
ears, showed her young but terrible fangs, and struck at
. ,• with her brrin l tnlon-armed
pats ; she had quite lost her temper, and was a true
embodiment of the phrase the nurse sometimes applies
to a naughty child—" She fought like a young tiger."
At last, feeling somewhat exhausted, she sat down on
her haunches, lashing her tail from side to side with

real anger.
The rope plan was therefore given up, and the director
of the proceedings, Mr. Bartlett, ordered the keeper to
" fetch the bag." He shortly reappeared with a common
sack, the open end of which which was mounted on to
a strong pole (like an ordinary landing-net for fishing),
the shut end of the bag being laced up, after the fashion
of a Balmoral boot, only that the lace-holes were much
further apart. Watching his opportunity, one of the
keepers slipped the bag over her head (like a lady catches
a butterfly on a hedge), and Puss was fairly in the bag ;
he then lifted it up, thinking Puss would stay quietly
there. Puss thought otherwise, for the moment the bag
was off the ground she twisted herself right round, her
head appeared at the mouth of the bag, and out sho hopped
like a " Jack-in-a-box ;" her wrath in the mean time grow
fiercer and fiercer, and she challenged all corners to deadly
combat. Stealing up this time behind her, while Mr.
Bartlett kept her attention engaged in front (the " Puss
puss, puss" days were over long ago), the keeper put the
bag once more overher head, and lifting it up a little from
the ground, a rope was tied round it, the bag was then
lifted up by means of the pole, and a pretty turmoil took
place inside it. Puss scratched, and yelled, and jumped
about so, that one would have thought that the keeper had
caught a real live demon, but this did not last very long;
the closed end of the sack was placed over the opening in
the box, and the lacing carefully undone, and Puss fell into
the box by her own weight.
It made me laugh to look at her face when she was a
prisoner. She peered out of the wrong side of the bars
with her bright but glaring eyes, which seemed to say,
" Well, you have done mo now. If I had known what the
lot of you were about with your Puss, puss, puss,' and
your fawning civilities a quarter of an hour ago, nothing
would have induced me to come out of my cage so readily.
Confound that sack, that's hardly fair." When the con-
quered Puss was safe in the box, the victorious Cocksedge
rubbed his hands and set to work vigorously to screw down
the bars which were to keep her in. " You're all right
now, you tiresome young hussy," said he, "and off you'll
go by to-night's train to Mr. Edmonds's menagerie, at
Manchester ; and I only hope they will use you as well
there as I have used you here."
The above quotation will be sufficient evidence
of the lip ely, pleasant manner in which Mr. Buck-
land narrates his experiences. His sketches of
" Giants" and " porpoises," "performing fleas," and
" Australian fat boys," " baby-shows," and " Ben
Jonson's skull," and other equally amazing and
multifarious matters, occupy the second volume, de-
scribed in the same graphic and animated manner,
happily combining the " grave aid gay," the
" lively and severe."

Club Life of London. By John Timbs, F.S.A,
Two Vols. Bentley.

Amusing, indeed, are these records of the Club
Life of London by the indefatigable and inexhaus-
tible John Timbs—anecdotes of the Clubs, Coffee-
houses, and Taverns of the Metropolis during
the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries. There are
grouped together in the present volume sketches of
One Hundred Clubs, ranging from the Mermaid in
Bread-street to the Garrick in Covent-garden.
" Considering the mixed object of these clubs,"
says the compiler of their history, " strict classifi-
cation was scarcely attainable, hence chronological
sequence has been adopted, with the advantage of
presenting more connected views of social life than
eould have been gained by the former arrange-
ment." Begining with the origin of clubs, we arc
appropriately reminded, in the words of a true
philosopher, that " all celebrated clubs were founded
upon eating and drinking, which are points where
most men agree, and in which the learned and the
illiterate, the dull and the airy, the philosopher and
the buffoon can all of them bear a part." The one
great centre of attraction, common to all, having
been thus discovered " the feast of reason and the
flow of soul" come in as happy auxiliaries. About
the end of the sixteenth century was established
the famous Club at the Mermaid Tavern in
Bread-street, of which Shakopere, Beaumont,
Fletcher, Raleigh, Selden, Donne, and others
were members, but it is not until shortly
after this date, says Mr. Timbs, that we find
the word club. Aubrey says, " We now use the
word clubbe for a sodality in a tavern," and in 1659
Aubrey became a member of the Rota, a political

club, which met at the Turk's Head, in New Palace
yard. After some particulars regarding the Apollo
Club, the Calve's Head Club (" in ridicule of the
memory of Charles I.")—the Cocoa-tree Club, and
others, we come to Almack's, the original
Brookes'; then follow Brookes', White's, and other
of the most famous of the past century. Every
page is enlivened by an anecdote, many of which
are little known, and those that are familiar to us
are well selected. One chapter is devoted to
" Fighting Fitzgerald," a member of one of the
first families in Leinster, who in 1780 was hanged
for murder. This fire-eating gentleman was re-
solved to become a member of Brookes'. He applied
to Admiral Stewart to propose him, and the Ad-
miral, knowing that he must either fight or comply,
chose to do the latter; but at the ballot every mem-
ber, even the proposer, gave a black ball. Mr.
Fitzgerald was waiting for the decision in the
coffee-room. Mr. Brookes took in coffee, and
announced that there was one black ball in the box,
and that the candidate must wait a month for a
new election ; but this was not sufficient for Fight-
ing Fitzgerald.
He grasped Brookes's hand, saying, " My dear Brookes,
I'm chose ; but there must be a small matter of mistake in
my election ;" he then persuaded Brookes to go upstairs,
and make his compliments to the gentlemen, and say, as it
was only a mistake of one black ball, they would be so
good as to waive all ceremony on his account, and proceed
to re-elect their humble servant without any more delay
at all." Many of the members were panic-struck, forsee-
ing a disagreeable finale to the farce which they had been
playing. Mr. Brookes stood silent waiting for the answer.
At length, the Earl of March (afterwards Duke of Queens-
berry) said aloud, " Try the effect of two balls; d—n his
Irish impudence, if two balls don't take effect upon him,
I don't know what will." This proposition was agreed to,
and Brookes was ordered to communicate the same.

On re-entering the waiting-room, Mr. Fitzgerald eagerly
inquired, " Have they elected me right, now, Mr.
Brookes ?" The reply was, " Sorry to inform you that the
result of the second balloting is—that two black balls were
dropped, sir." " Then,', exclaimed Fitzgerald, " there's
now two mistakes instead of one." He then persuaded
Brookes again to proceed upstairs, and tell the honourable
members to " try again, and make no more mistakes."
General Fitzpatrick proposed that Brookes should reply,
" His causo was all hopeless, for that he was black-balled
all over, from head to foot, and it was hoped by all the
members that Mr. Fitzgerald would not persist in thrust-
ing himself into society where his company was declined."
This message was of no avail. No sooner had Fitzgerald
heard it than he exlaimed—" Oh, I perceive it is a mis-
take altogether, Mr. Brookes, and I must see to the rec-
tifying of it myself, there s nothing like daling with prin-
cipals ; so, I'll step up at once, and put this thing to rights,
without any more unnecessary delay."
Iu spite of Mr. Brookes's remonstrance, that his en-

trance into the club-room was against all rule and etiquette,
Fitzgerald flew upstairs, and entered the room without
any further ceremony than a bow, saying to the members,
who indignantly rose at the intrusion, " Your servant,
gentlemen—l beg ye will be sated."
Walking up to the fireplace, he thus addressed Admiral
S tewart —" So, my dear Admiral, Mr. Brookes informs me
that I have been elected three times.
" You have been balloted for, Mr. Fitzgerald, but I am
sorry to say you have not been chosen," said Stewart.
" Well, then," replied the duellist, " did you black-ball
me ?" "My good sir," answered the Admiral, " how
could you suppose such a thing ?" " Oh, I supposed no
such thing, my dear fellow; I only want to know who it
was that dropped the black balls in by accident, as it

were !"

Fitzgerald now went up to each individual member, and
put the same question seriatim, " Did you black-ball me,
sir ?" until he made the round of the whole club ; and in
each case he received a reply similar to that of the Ad-
miral. When he had finished his inquisition, he thus ad-
dressed the whole body —" You see, gentlemen, that as
none of ye have black-balled me, I must be chose ; and it
is Mr. Brookes that has made the mistake. But I was
convinced of it from the beginning, and 1 am only sorry
that so much time has been lost as to prevent honourable
gentlemen from enjoying each other's company sooner."
lie then desired the waiter to bring him a bottle of cham-
pagne, that he might drink long life to the club, and
wish them joy of their unanimous election of a rael gen-
tleman by father and mother, and who never missed his

man."
The members now saw there was nothing to be done
but to send the intruder to Coventry, which they appeared
to do by tacit agreement ; for when Admiral Stewart de-
parted, Mr. Fitzgerald found himself cut by all his " dear
friends." The members now formed parties at the whist-
table—and no one replied .to Fitzgerald's observations nor
returned even a nod to the toasts and haalths which he
drank in three bottles of champagne, which the terrified
waiter placed before him, in succession. At length, he
arose, made a low bow, and took leave, promising to
isiteAt .-d have SI little rtinro of it."
It was then agreed that half a dozen stout constables
should be in waiting the next evening to bear him off to
the watch-house, if he attempted again to intrude. Of
this measure Fitzgerald seemed to be aware; for he
never again showed himself at Brookes's ; though he
boasted everywhere that he had been unanimously chosen
a member of the dab.
We need not pursue Mr. Timbs' agreeable remini-
scences any further ; we have said enough to illus-
trate the amusing character of this very compendious
history of the Clubs and Club-life of London.

The Humbugs of the TVorld. By R. F. Barnum.
One vol., pp. 315. John Camden Hotten:

We almost expected to find upon the title-
page of this work the authorship indicated in
a manner identical with that of Thackeray's
" Book of Snobs." " The History of Snobs, by
One of Themselves." Such an idea, however, is at
once dissipated by an introductory note from the
publisher, who assures us that so far from Mr. Bar-
num being a humbug himself—" there never was a
public man who was less of one." Never was there
a better illustration of the art and mystery of hum-
bug than that described in Hans Christian An-
dersen's capital story of " The Emperor's New
Clothes." The charlatans who were suffered to
provide these clothes for the Emperor declared that
they would be invisible to all who were unfit for
their position. What potentate, premier, or peer
would admit his own unfitness by declaring that he
beheld nothing, and so one and all extolled the
beauty of garments that existed only in the cun-
ning imagination of the contrivers of the scheme.
If, according to Hudibras,

" The pleasure is as great in being cheated as to cheat,"
assuredly the odium of all humbug devolves upon
the dupes as much as on the dupers. Parties of
both classes, however,—and together they constitute
the majority of mankind—may take an interest in
turning over these records of the Humbugs of the
World by one well able to appreciate and expose
them.

The Private Ilistorg of a Polish Insurrection. From
Official and Unofficial sources. By R. Suther-
land Edwards, late Special Correspondent of the
Times. Two vols. Saunders, Otley, and Co.

These volumes contain a resume of the events of
the Polish Insurrection of 1863, written by an eye-
witness well able to analyse and describe them.
Many of the chapters appeared as letters in the
Times ; but they are now published together in a
consecutive form. Speaking of the Russian ambi-
tion to destroy Poland, the writer very justly
observes, that " a country like Poland, with
an independent and, for the most part, glorious,
existence of eight centuries to look back to, is not
destroyed so easily. If to ensure its final ruin it
were only necessary to execute its inhabitants by
hundreds, massacre them by thousands, and exile
them by tens of thousands ; to confiscate the estates
of its principal nobles, plunder its libraries, abolish
its ancient plan of education, and seek to impose
upon its population the use of a foreign tongue—
then Poland would have ceased to exist long ago."
As it is, the late insurrection, says this eye-witness,
has had the effect of keeping up and intensifying
the national hatred of the Poles for everything
Russian.

The Soldier of Three Queens. A Narrative of Per-
sonal Adventure. By R. Henderson, late of the
12th Royal Laneers, and formerly Captain in the
British Auxiliary Brigade in the service of the
Queen of Spain. Two Vols. Saunders, Otley,
and Co.

Fact and fiction are pleasantly mingled together
in these very interesting and romantic records. By
a singular combination of circumstances, the author
tells us that he has taken part in the
war of suceession in Portugal which placed
Donna Maria on the throne, afterwards
as a captain in the Spanish Legion he did good
service for Queen Isabella ; and, lastly, in the war
in the Crimea, he bore arms in the immediate ser-
vice of his own sovereign lady Queen Victoria. The
title of the book is happily selected ; the style is
earnest and animated, and the adventuree and nais-

adventures recorded are marvellous and romantic in
the extreme. There is a very spirited and vivid ac-
count of a naval engagement between the Portu-
guese and British, the latter commanded by Sir
Charles Napier. Then, by way of contrast, we
have a melo-dramatic narrative—quite a picturesque
glimpse of the men and manners of the hot South.
A young English officer, resting with a dozen others
at a roadside inn, insists upon kissing the hostess
and her two daughters. A scowling muleteer, tha
lover of one of the damsels, quits the auberge, and
half an hour after, as the officers ride on their way,
a stealthy shot strikes the hero of the hour, and
he falls dead. " That which would have been
rewarded with a box on the ear by a bar-
maid at Portsmouth was repaid with a bullet at
Almeida," exclaims the friend who narrates the sad
incident. How much of fiction may be mingled
with the truthful records of these volumes we can-
not say, and it matters little to the reader, who will
find abundant matter of entertainment and much
instructive information on recent events very plea-
santly conveyed to him by this gallant soldier of
three Queens.

From Cadet to Colonel, the Record of a Life of
Active Service. By Major-General Sir Thomas
Seaton, K.C.B. 2 vols. Hurst and Blackett.
Often as the life of a soldier has been drawn by
the pen of fiction, it is seldom, if ever, that we are
favoured with the veritable experiences of one who
has fought his way step by step from the foot of
the ladder to the topmost round. Such a record
have we here in the narrative of his own adventurous
life and gallant career by Major-General Seaton,
beginning with a memorable morning in July,
1822, when young Seaton, then about sixteen, was
suddenly asked by a relation "would you like to go to
India as a cadet?" The answer being in the affirmative,
on that day week the new-made cadet was sailing
away from Spithead on board the East India Com-
pany's ship Thames bound for Calcutta. In his
own words, the young soldier thus thrown upon
the world was at that time " a raw half-educated
lad, ignorant of its many ways, unwarned of its
many snares, unarmed against its trials and tempta-
tions, and without compass, chart, or rudder to
direct my course in my voyage over that treacher-
ous ocean." In recording his own eventful history
until the Ist June, 1859, when influenced by faith g
health, Sir Thomas Seaton resigned his command,
after a service of thirty-six years and five months,
from the date of his arrival in Calcutta—in record-
ing his own history the gallant officer gives us a
comprehensive review of the principal events of in-
terest or importance in India during that momen-
tous period. The once familiar names of Jellalabad
and Cabool, Lady Sale, and Lord Ellenborough,
occupy a Imminent place in the earlier chapters,
and are succeeded by Delhi, Cawnpore, and
others associated with the terrible interest
of the Indian Mutiny. Sir Thomas Seaton's recol-
lections are given in the most simple straightfor-
ward manner, and are evidently an actual record
of events that have left a vivid impression upon his
memory. Greatly to his surprise, on the 12th of
May, 1858, the brigadier received a letter addressed
to Sir Thomas Seaton, K.C.8., congratulating him
on the honour conferred upon him. So little did
the worthy soldier anticipate such good fortune
that he regarded the letter as a joke, and
wrote back to the sender,—" If you boys
chaff your brigadier, he'll have to pitch
into you." The reply was a copy of the Gazette.
"It fairly amazed me," exclaims the old soldier.
" Then the whole of my career started across me,
from the time when I landed in Calcutta a thought-
less, friendless lad. I need not say," he adds, "that
this review opened up in my beart feelings of deeply
grateful thanks to that merciful Providence that had
ordered all things for me." The last event of any
public interest in which Sir Thomas Seaton was
concerned was on the 4th November, 1858,
when he tells us " I had the honour and hap-
piness of proclaiming Queen Victoria Empress
of Hindostan. May God long preserve her as
such." With which aspiration we take leave of the
gallant officer and his very interesting memoir.