PETS. 203 



He would double himself up in a corner of his cage, 

 looking unutterable things, and as soon as anybody 

 came near the door fly at, or at least in the direction 

 of, his face with an impetus that bent the wires, sug- 

 gesting dire consequences if ever the door should give 

 way altogether. These demonstrations he accompanied 

 with a peculiar yell, something between a hiss and a 

 howl, and in the night-time he often uttered that same 

 cry, at uncertain intervals at first, but afterward with 

 the regularity of a minute-gun. The guests complained, 

 and the Bear landlord resolved to silence the serenader. 

 He procured a big horse-syringe, filled it with absinthe, 

 and made the hostler conceal himself behind the cage. 

 Whenever the prisoner raised his voice, the hostler 

 raised his syringe and drenched him with wormwood 

 extract till he could not doubt that his laments only 

 increased the bitterness of his situation. But despair 

 is as inspiring as hunger, and somehow the lynx found 

 out that the wood-work was the least impenetrable part 

 of his cage, nay, that the rear board in particular was 

 of a less obdurate texture. This board he now attacked 

 with tooth and nail, to which he superadded a concus- 

 sive force by stepping back every now and then and 

 leaping head foremost against the centre of the panel. 

 The landlord watched his manoeuvres, and finally got 

 uneasy. u He's a Orison," said he, "and his countrymen 

 are a headstrong set. We shall have to forestall him.'* 

 He rummaged his garret and found just what he wanted, 



