they are now hungry; therefore, sir, stand aside, for we must make haste to the place where they are to be fed."

"What!" said Don Quixote with a scornful smile, 5 "lion whelps against me! Against me, your puny monsters! and at this time of day! By yon blessed sun! those that sent them hither shall see whether I am a man to be scared by lions. Alight, honest friend, and since you are their keeper, open the cages and turn 10 out your savages of the desert; for in the midst of this field I will make them know who Don Quixote is, in spite of the enchanters that sent them hither to me. I vow, Don Rascal, if thou dost not instantly open the cages, with this lance I will pin thee to the cart." 15 Whilst the keeper was unbarring the first grate, Don Quixote deliberated whether it would be better to engage on horseback or not; and finally determined it should be on foot, as Roxinante, his steed, might be terrified at sight of the lions. He therefore 20 leaped from his horse, flung aside his lance, braced on his shield, and drew his sword; then slowly advancing, with marvelous courage and an undaunted heart, he planted himself before the lion's cage.

The keeper, seeing that he could not avoid letting 25 loose the lions without incurring the resentment of the angry and daring knight, set wide open the door of the first cage where lay a monster, which appeared to be of an extraordinary size and of a hideous and frightful aspect.

The first thing the creature did was to turn himself round in the cage, reach out a paw, and stretch himself at full length. Then he opened his mouth and yawned very leisurely; after which he threw out some half yard of tongue, wherewith he licked and washed 5 his face. This done, he thrust his head out of the cage and stared round on all sides with eyes like redhot coals; a sight to have struck temerity itself with terror!

Don Quixote observed him with fixed attention, im- 10 patient for him to leap out of his den, that he might grapple with him and tear him to pieces.

But the generous lion, after having stared about him, turned his back upon Don Quixote, and calmly and quietly laid himself down again in his cage.

15

Upon which Don Quixote ordered the keeper to give him some blows, and provoke him to come forth. "That I will not do," answered the keeper; "for, should I provoke him, I shall be the first whom he will tear to pieces. The lion has the door open to 20 him, and the liberty to come forth; and since he has not done so, he will not come out to-day.

"The greatness of your Worship's courage is already sufficiently shown; no brave combatant is bound to do more than challenge his foe and wait his coming in the 25 field; and if the antagonist fails to meet him, the disgrace falls upon him, while the challenger is entitled to the crown of victory."

"That is true," answered Don Quixote; "shut the

door, friend, and give me a certificate, in the best form you can, of what you have seen me perform."

The keeper closed the door, and Don Quixote, having fixed the linen cloth with which he had wiped the 5 curds from his face, upon the end of his lance, began to hail the troop in the distance, who were still retiring, looking around at every step.

They all stopped, and saw that it was Don Quixote that made the sign; and their fear in some degree abat10 ing, they ventured to return slowly, till they could distinctly hear the words of Don Quixote, who continued calling to them.

When they had reached the cart again, Don Quixote said to the driver: "Now, friend, put on your mules. 15 again and proceed on your journey; and, Sancho, give two crowns to him and the keeper to make them amends for this delay."

"That I will with all my heart," answered Sancho; "but what is become of the lions? Are they dead or 20 alive?"

The keeper then gave an account of the conflict, enlarging to the best of his skill on the valor of Don Quixote, at sight of whom the daunted lion would not or durst not stir out of his cage, though he held open 25 the door a good while; and upon his representing to the knight that it was tempting God to provoke the lion and force him out, he had, at length, very reluctantly permitted him to close it.

Sancho gave the gold crowns; the carter yoked his

mules; the keeper thanked Don Quixote for his present, and promised to relate this valorous exploit to the King himself when he arrived at court.

"If, perchance, his Majesty," said Don Quixote, "should inquire who performed it, tell him the 5 knight of the lions; for henceforward I resolve that the title I have hitherto borne, of the knight of the sorrowful figure, shall be thus changed, and herein I follow the ancient practice of knights-errant, who changed their names at pleasure."

From "Don Quixote."

10

THE SIGNING OF THE DECLARATION.

GEORGE LIPPARD.

IT is a cloudless summer day; a clear blue sky arches and expands above a quaint edifice, rising among the giant trees in the center of a wide city. That edifice is built of plain red brick, with heavy 5 window frames and a massive hall door.

Such is the statehouse of Philadelphia in the year of our Lord 1776.

In yonder wooden steeple, which crowns the summit of that red brick statehouse, stands an old man with 10 snow-white hair and sunburnt face. He is clad in humble attire, yet his eye gleams as it is fixed on the ponderous outline of the bell suspended in the steeple there. By his side, gazing into his sunburnt face in wonder, stands a flaxen-haired boy with laughing eyes 15 of summer blue. The old man ponders for a moment upon the strange words written upon the bell, then, gathering the boy in his arms, he speaks: "Look here, my child. Will Will you do this old man a kindness?

Then hasten down the stairs and wait in the hall 20 below till a man gives you a message for me; when he gives you that word, run out into the street and shout it up to me. Do you mind?" The boy sprang from the old man's arms and threaded his way down the dark stairs.