"A what?" asked the two in amazement, for they had not heard a syllable of the exciting incident of the day before.
"Why, there's a lion that broke out of the menagerie yesterday, and they haven't been able to catch him yet."
"Land sakes alive!" gasped Aunt Annie, sinking into a chair and raising her hands, "what is the world coming to?"
Aunt Lizzie sat down more deliberately, but her pale face and amazed look showed she was no less agitated.
Fred helped himself to some more of the luscious shortcake and golden butter and preserves, and feeling the importance of his position told the story with which our readers are familiar, though it must be confessed the lad exaggerated somewhat, as perhaps was slightly excusable under the circumstances.
Still it was not right for him to describe the lion as of the size of an ordinary elephant, unless he referred to the baby elephant, which had never been seen in this country at that time.
Nor should he have pictured his run down the lane, with the beast behind him all the way, snapping at his head, while Fred only saved himself by his dexterity in dodging him.
There was scarcely any excuse for such hyperbole, though the narrative was implicitly believed by the ladies, who felt they were in greater danger than if a score of burglarious tramps were planning to rob them.
"They've offered one hundred dollars to any one who catches the lion without hurting him," added Fred, as well as he could speak with his mouth filled with spongy gingerbread.
"A hundred dollars!" exclaimed Aunt Lizzie; "why, he'll kill anybody who goes near him. If I were a man I wouldn't try to capture him for a million dollars."