The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1885-12-25
FUNG0 AND THE LION.
A CHRISTMAS STORY WITH MORAL FOR
BOYS.

A CHRISTMAS STORY WITH A MORAL FOR
Christmas in Kaffir land, my boys, is diff
ferent affair from yours, but among the Eng
lish regiments at the Kat River settlements
there is an effort TO keep the day.
Funeo, little Hottentot boy had no men,
ories Of Christmas trees or gifts to make it
red-letteI day to him, but he was wide-awake
to the prospect of feast.
He was bright little fellow, with a great
talent for music. He could whistle pretty
tunes through wheat stalk, and he made
flutes out OF the reeds that grew in the river.
But one day he got into trouble, for he cut of
the end OF one Of the officers long bamboo
\ whip-sticks, and, though he made very fine
Nute, las good as one OF the band instruments,
ss IA was punished for spelling the WHIP.
lg at they told the bahd-master to make
SO Yer OF him. How proud he was He soon
% III led all the bugle calls and notes, and
t4 Fed beautifully. He always wore his bugle
9is belt and kept 1t as bright as gold. and
~, Night have been as happy as king but
flne sad fault.
" Ae soldiers, who were fond of him, would
{ him Cape brandy to drink. II is made
X n the juice of the grape by the Beers, and
4such smoky flavor it is called Cape
Ne"
&c smoke came near being the ruin OF
Fufi4R He would keep sober until after
parade and manage to bugle all right every
morning, but after that he was taking what
the English soldiers called Scoops" all day
long.
1t was Christmas day, not cold and clea-,
but hot. Imagine hot Christmas day but
that's how things are in Kailir land.
Ihey were going to boil humping big
pudding In the mess kitchen. and Fungo was
amazed at the size of the monster, like great
cannon-ball specked with plums and citron.
lie went out gladly with party TO chop down
the mimosas and wild olive trees TO make
great fire for it.
This took half day, and when the oxen
were put IL the yoke once more and they were
& MALT way home. somebody said:
where's Fungo the bugler p
rOh, the lazy little Hottentot," said another.
& HE would not help with the wood, and l ex-
poet he Is CURED up asleep somewhere"
x Fungo was asleep. it Is true, but not in any
OF the wagons. He had been taking lt,ls sips
OF Cape smoke from II tin canteen that was
slung across his shoulder for the purpo se OF
holding water, and he had lain down under
some brush while waiting for his party to go
back to the furt.
By and by great lion, attracted by the
scent of the meat that had been cooked for
the mems luncheon on some great stones
made hot in the fire, came that way to see
what he could pick up for late dinner.
He began to sniff round.
puIciy ne COulu bUlell something very GOOD
near him..
He walked softly about and suddenly came
on Fungo.
They say if white man and a black are "
ing side by side, lion will always prefer the
black man.
lion thought he was going to have rich treat
the incest kind of Christmas dinner for
him.
He walked all about the boy, ard smelt him
and convinced himself that he was alive, for
lion never takes dead game.
'sWhat delicious pickings for Mrs. Lion and
the cubs, he thought, as he gently took him
up by the waistband of his trousers to balance
him, holding his head up in the same way q
cat does when she carries a mouse.
But, do what he would, FUNGUS feet at one
end and his arms at the other would keep
knocking the ground, and this soon woke him
up.
At first Fungo thought he was dreaming;
then that one of the men was carrying him to
the wagon, and he called out to him not to
pinch his back so awfully.
OF course, he soon found out his mistake.
for he saw the great paws of the lion The
thought OF the fate in store for him made poor
iittlo Fungo more sober than he had been for
many long day.
What could he do? If he kicked and
screamed the lion would only take a firmer
grip of him.
His hands were at liberty. He must do
something. He felt for the knife he usually
wore at his belt. 1t was gone
Alas he remembered he had left it where he
had been eating his mutton chops
NO; he had no knife, but the bugle hung at
his belt
He would sound that and some one might
come to help him.
~ Stoot-toot-telu-t TooT-TOOTr 7"
eag Nhriler and louder than the last
jbugh. The hon had probably
such unearthly sounds in his
he was terrified.
Jed his prey and ran off into the
rungo jumped up and ran in another
n, never stopping till he was safe in
fort
t'st his companions would not believe
Try, but he showed the marks of the
of the lion visible in his flesh
Fungo kept Christmas after all, and
forgot his adventure or the taste Of the
a pudding.
I'D the best of it all was, he learned use
lesson. From that day he could never be
suaded 10 taste liquor.
No, no." Fu1go would say: 'the good
ord delivered me out of the lions mouth,
I'D the devil himself sha'n't tempt me to taste
NJ Cape smoke again.
WHY is It written Xmas ?" asked one little
" Oil City bow of another ftT puaaa itia ba