183 
American Agriculturist, September 13,1924 
Androcles Jones 
{Continued from page 181 ) 
he reached between the bars and took 
Leo by his tack-infested paw. I had a 
tent-stake ready to jam into the big cat’s 
face if he tried any ugly business, but the 
old cottage cheese was too cowardly and 
pain-frightened to make a mean move. 
He just put up his muzzle and yowled, and 
Oily took the tack by the head and jerked 
it out of the paw. For a moment Leo 
yowled; than he began licking the paw?; 
then he went to the back of the cage and 
spread out ready to sleep. We put up 
the side of the cage. Oily sort of tip¬ 
toed away. 
“I guess that will be all right,” he said 
in a whisper, like a person in a sick-room. 
“If he sleeps well, he’ll feel better injthe 
morning.” 
I said I hoped he would and that I 
hoped the old grannie of a beast would 
have sense enough to know the kindness 
Oily had done him. 
“I hope so,” Oily said, but he hadn’t 
any enthusiasm. “Somehow I don’t feel 
the same way about that Androcles 
business. Mack. The more I think about 
it, the fishier it looks.” 
Well, one of the stunts of our parade 
was to have old Leo on top of his cage 
collar had choked him, looked around for 
Oily, saw him and started after Oily on 
the lope! 
Run? Oily went in at one end of the 
menagerie-tent and was out of the far end 
of the dressing-tent before Leo was fairly 
started. We saw him make for the fence 
at the far side of the show-grounds like a 
scared rabbit and take it in one leap and 
keep right on across a plowed field toward 
the tall timber in the distance. Old Leo 
wqnt after him like a loping cow, not 
much for speed but a prize-winner for 
persistence. We all started after Leo. 
I’ll say right here that I had as mixed 
emotions as a man ever had. I didn’t 
know whether Leo would catch Oily or 
not, and if he did catch him, I didn’t 
know whether he would kill him or kiss 
him. I didn’t know whether Oily would 
be Androcles II or plain raw meat. No¬ 
body knew, not even Oily. That was 
why he ran. He had lost all faith in that 
Androcles business. 
My gang of rough-necks found Leo 
somewhere near the middle of the patch 
of timber, sitting in the leaves and looking 
puzzled and surprised. When they led 
him away, he would stop and look around 
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with Pink sitting in a chair with one foot 
on his back. Of course, the old lion was 
chained to a ring in the cage-top, but it 
was a good stunt and made a hit with the 
crowds. 
The day after Oily had done the An¬ 
drocles stunt the parade started for town. 
Oily was cutting across the show-lot 
on some business or other, and he passed 
near Leo’s cage. The moment Leo saw 
him he pricked up his ears and yowled. 
Oily stopped short and looked, of course, 
and the next moment Leo made a leap for 
him. Pink shouted and struck at the big 
cat with her bull-whip, but she was either 
too late or the lion did not mind her blow, 
for he hurtled off the top of the cage to¬ 
ward Oily. He hurtled just exactly the 
length of the chain and stopped with a 
jerk and slammed back against the side 
of the cage, hanging there by the neck as 
if he was trying to commit suicide by 
hanging. He kicked and olawed and 
scratched. Pink yelled, and some of us 
climbed to the top of the cage and we all 
pulled on the chain and hoisted Leo to the 
top of the cage again. For a moment he 
shook his head and swallowed hard and 
panted, and then his gaze caught Oily’s 
again, and zipp! over the side of the cage 
he went again, clawing and scratching 
and kicking. 
Well, this time the chain broke! Down 
the old cat went to the ground, tail first, 
and fell head over heels. He got up and 
shook himself, pawed his neck where the 
and then walk a short distance reluctantly 
and stop and look around again. He 
wanted Oily. 
The next we heard of Oily was on a 
picture post-card showing a view of the 
Davenport railway bridge but mailed 
from Streator, Illinois. Pink showed it 
to us. It said: 
You can catch me at Hogan’s Lodging 
House, 38 Bowery, if you want to, but 
nothing doing in that cage business. 
Yours till death, 
O. Jones. 
Well, I guess that’s all. The next 
season Pink married a fellow named 
Murphy and went into vaudeville with 
her cats, and so you might say the story 
ends happily, but somehow I wish Oily 
had hung around the circus lot that day 
until we knew whether that old cotton¬ 
wool baa-baa of a lion was going to eat 
him or love him. We talk about it a lot, 
but we don’t know yet whether that 
Androcles stunt would work or not. I 
guess we never will know. 
{The End) 
A. A. Readers Suggest — 
Thicken any juicy fruit or berry-pie 
fillings with minute tapioca. It is bet¬ 
ter than flour and looks much nicer when 
the pie is cut. 
* * * 
Rub white spots on furniture with es¬ 
sence of peppermint.— Mrs. G. W. Gray, 
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