The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1913-11-27

and made a rush for his end Of the
see-saw. He stepped upon it. He was
conquered. His haste to obey, evil
IDENTIFY the result of fear and hatred,
produced ripple of laughter. The
other lion, feeling the sudden tremor
of Samson's weight, opened his eyes
suddenly and twitched his tail. He
was not asleep, after all.
Abbott found himself intensely nerv-
GUS. He longed to have it all over,
anxious, above all, to prove his fears
groundless. Yet how were so many
condolences to be explained away?
Fran had been a show-girl, a trainer of
lions, and Abbott distinctly remem-
bered that she had spoken of a Sam
son." Fran had just these movements
and this height. He missed Fran's
mellow voice, but voices may be dis
guised; and the hands now raised to-
ward the audience may have been
stained dark. Who was that sick
friend" that Fran had possibly men,
toned only as an excuse for escaping?
Was that subterfuge? And why this
I6U LldSh WHICH,, W OtIuOu
Jefferson, was an innovation?
At every trick, the black-maned lion
baked
When the time came for the clown
to hand the woman her violin he was
afraid, and withdrew his arm with
marvellous rapidity. His grotesque dis
guise could not hide his genuine un-
easiness. The members of the band,
too, played their notes with unusual
care, lest the slightest deviation from
routine work bring catastrophe. Moth
ing had gone right but the see-sawing
norant.
After the violin playing-"Now," ST.
mon Jefferson announced, gleefully
there's only one more act, but it's a
corker, let me tell you-that's why
she's resting minute. La Confetti
gets astride of Samson-the one that's
mad-and grabs his name, and pre-
tends to ride like cowboy. Calls her
self a rough rider. Makes Samson
get on top of that table, then she gets
on top of him."
But this isn't La Confetti" Abbott
protested, Shuddering again.
Now you've said something. That's
right. But it looks like she's game
she'll try it-we'd better stand little
farther back"
A hand was laid upon Abbott's arm.
Abbott" said the voice of Robert
Clinton, harsh from smothered excite
ment, "You went to Gregory's house
did you see him."
Abbott did not hear. The refractory
lion, knowing that his time had come
to be ridden, was asserting his indie
pendence. He would not leap upon
the table The other lion stood watch
ing sleepily to see if he would obey.
THAT you, Clinton?" Sinon's
greeting was tense with enjoyment.
Got here for the best of it didn't
you! Seems to me l saw Gregory
somewhere not long ago, but l wasn't
thinking about him."
"Hercules!" the masked woman ad-
dressed the gentler of the lions. 60
to your place. Hercules-go to your
PLACED"
Hercules turned to his blue box,
and seated himself upon it, leaving his
tail to take care of itself.
The show-girl was fiercely address
ing the black-maned lion. Nov! Now!
To the table! To the tablet"
Samson did not bulge. Facing the
woman of the mask, he opened his
mouth, revealing the red cave of. his
throat-past the ivory sentinels that
not only stood guard, but threatened,
one could look down and down. This
was no yawn Of WEAKNESS, but sign
of rebellion-a sort of noiseless roar.
The trainer retreated to the farther
side of the cage, then made forward
rush, waving her whip, and shouting
dangerously, up, Samson, up Sam
son, up!" She did not pause in her
course till close to his face.
Again he opened his mouth, barring
every tooth, .voiceless, but uncon-
quereo
Hercules, finding that affairs had
come to halt, slowly descended from
his box, keeping his half-opened eyes
upon the woman. Restlessly he be-
gan to pace before the outer door.
The slight figure withdrew several
steps, then smote the rebellious lion a
sharp blow across the mouth He
snapped at the lash. 1t slipped away