72 
ALMOST HUMAN 
it was handed back to me he was out again — a roaring lion, seeking 
whom he may devour! 
A number of people were watching this interesting demonstration, 
and one man, utterly disgusted at the new idea of a cowardly lion, 
cried : 
“That’s not a British lion — he’s a German!” 
Everybody agreed instantly. Whoever heard of a frightened 
British lion? As well talk of a timid bull-dog! But no one was quite 
prepared to hear Mr. Wilkie say quietly: 
“Well, it’s a case of environment against heredity. He should be 
a British lion — but he was reared in Germany. He was bought from 
Hagenbeck’s, and so was his mate — see how treacherous she is!” 
He went to the next cage, where a remarkably fine lioness came 
to the bars and fawned even more tamely than the other lionesses had 
done, but she was not clever enough to hide her spleen. Her head 
was held abjectly low for petting, but her tail was swishing in quick, 
short jerks as her observant eyes watched for the smallest chance of 
catching the fingers that caressed her. 
“They are both so truly German,” said Mr. Wilkie, “that ever since 
the war broke out they have not been able to endure Englishmen. 
Every keeper in the place gets the same treatment from them, and there 
is not a man in the gardens who would go in among them alone or unarmed. 
They would not hesitate to go in the other cages without a weapon. 
None of us has done anything to deserve this treatment; it is just the 
nature of the creatures to ‘strafe,’ and they would not thrive without 
their daily hate.” 
AN ESCAPED LION. 
Some time ago the lion in this illustration was lent by the 
authorities to an illusionist who was appearing at the Tivoli Theatre in 
Bourke Street, Melbourne. Careful instructions were given to the stage 
hands about securely fastening up the cage when the day’s performance 
was on, and these instructions were as carefully carried out — every day 
but one. On that memorable afternoon the illusion was in progress 
when there was a sudden scatter of a crowd of chorus girls in the wings, 
and screams rent the air as they rushed right and left in their terror — 
the lion was loose! Some of them got to safety at the back; others 
sought a nearer way by clambering up the ropes attached to scenery. 
But the lion, majestically ignoring such insignificant mortals, walked 
quietly across the stage to the footlights, and stood, deeply contemplative, 
gazing at the scene before him. The amazed conductor of the orchestra 
