The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1897-06-10

moment that would bring to him vic
tory or death.
Little time for thought, however, had
Paolo. With one fell spring the mighty
beast was at him, his open jaws drip
ping froth, his bloodshot eyes blazing
with fury.
But not this time did he grasp his in
tended prey, for quick as thought the
practiced eye of the acrobat detected
the movement, and bending forward,
head and knees almost touching the
ground, he made a rapid shift in the OPP
posite direction and avoided by almost a
hairbre aath being crushed brea+hless
beneath the lions bulk.
Quick as lightning's flash the lion
turned once more, crouching low in the
dust his eye warily seeking some weak
spot in the armor of this strange an
tagonist, whose 1.-the limbs and sinuous
movements puzzled him, and who show
ed less sigus of fear facing him here in
open fight than the crowds of frail hu-
mainly who had Knocked and jeered at
him so often from the safe side of his
prison bars, but who shrank back af
frighted when in his wrath he gave hi
awful battle roar.
This time, with catlike tread, he
slowly advanced upon his adversary,
striving as though conscious of his
power and strength, to drive him back
and pen him helplessly and without
chance of escape against the side of the
ring and then to seize him at his
leisure.
Paolo was also thinking. When would
the soldiers come? Could he survive to
carry ON the unequal struggle till they
arrived? But W lille thinking not a mus
Gle relaxed.
Seeing the lions tactics, he gradually
managed to skirmlsh toward the ring,
though by so doing he passed within a
few feet of his nose.
Come ON, Scipio," he said aloud,
with gay bravado he little felt, this
is not how lions fight. " And he made a
slight feint, as though playfully to touch
his adversary on the head.
With deep, hollow roar of anger
Scipio reared aloft on his hind legs, and
throwing all prudence to the winds and
realizing that the momentous struggle
had come at last, Paolo rushed madly
at him, man and beast closing in ter
rible death grapple the lion continuing
erect, as though wishful to wrestle on
equal terms with the brave biped
In the swift onrush Paolo dropped his
dagger, and now, weaponless but fren-
zied with rage and despair, he exerted
every atom of his marvellous strength
and with one giant upheaval overthrow
the wild beast.
But Scipio's mighty claws were busy,
and tire blood lust was ON him too
Crimson streaks through Paolo's tunic
made it apparent to the fascinated
behoders that this little wrestling bout
was not all that it seemed, and many a
timid heart, sickened by the sight Of
blood, edged furtively toward the near
est outlet
But what sound is this that breaks
the spell and causes the low whispers
of inquiry to swell into babel of
tongues? In another moment the semi
SOAAbuht VI NIt arena - bIbhtI ny tllt
appearance Of body of soldiers from
the neighhoring barracks, all converg-
ing rapidly on one point where lay the
doughty colabatants.
The young officer in command, has.
tily disengaging a revolver from his
belt, fires one, two, three shots into the
PROSTATE brute's ear, and with one
mighty groan the spirit of the erring
Sciplo returns to haunt the solitudes of
the African deserts.
Tender hands lift Paolo, unconscious,
bleeding and nigh to death. He is borne
from the arena as the audience slowly
files out of the building under the mas
terful direction of some of the soldiers
told off for the purpose-siIont, awe
stricken, sobbing, praying, walking ms
III a trance.
In peaceful little Cod acre just
outside the walls Of Paris sleeps Paolo
His grave all the year round blooms
with lovely flowers, and Its fond tend
ing shows that, though his body has
passed away, his memory still flourishcs
rs brightly as the blossoms that wave
over him. London Answers