It is a notorious fact that itinerant circus companies pay very
poorly, and that the man who does not get his money from them in
advance is not very likely to get it at all. Major Slott of _The
Patriot_ has suffered a good deal from these concerns; and when "The
Great European Circus and Metropolitan Caravan" tried to slip off the
other day without settling its advertising bill, he called upon the
sheriff and got him to attach the Bengal tiger for the debt. The tiger
was brought in its cage and placed in the composing-room, where it
consumed fifteen dollars' worth of meat in two days--the major's bill
was only twelve dollars--and scratched one trouser leg off of the
reporter, who was standing in front of the cage stirring up the animal
with a broom. On the third day the bottom fell out of the cage; and as
the tiger seemed to want to roam around and inquire into things, the
whole force of compositors all at once felt as if they ought to
go suddenly down stairs and give the animal a chance. With that
mysterious instinct which distinguishes dumb animals, and which goes
far to prove that they have souls, the tiger went at once for the
door of the major's sanctum, and it broke in just as Slott was in the
middle of a tearing editorial upon "Our Tendencies toward Cæsarism."
The major, however, did not hesitate to knock off. He stopped at once,
and emerged with a fine, airy grace through the window, bringing the
sash with him; and then he climbed up the water-spout to the roof,
where he sat until a hook-and-ladder company came and took him off.
_The Patriot_ did not issue for a week; for although the major
bombarded the tiger with shot-guns pointed through the windows, and
although the fire-engine squirted hot water at him, the brute got
along very comfortably until Saturday night, when he tried to swallow
a composing-stick and choked to death. When they entered the room,
they found that the animal had upset all the type and had soaked
himself in ink and then rolled over nearly every square inch of the