OLE BULL
From a photograph taken in New York in 1880.
CAMBRIDGE.
A Dane, a friend of Johan's, who had come to America to write a book on American institutions, asked the consul to find him a quiet boarding-house in a quiet street. The consul knew of exactly such a retreat, and directed the Professor to the place. It was not far from the Revere House. He arrived there in the evening, unpacked his treasures, congratulating himself on his cozy quarters and his nice landlady, who asked such a modest price that he jumped at it.
The next morning, at four o'clock, he was awakened by a strange noise, the like of which he had never heard outside a zoological garden. At first he thought he was still dreaming, and turned over to sleep again, but the noise repeated itself. This time it seemed to come from under his bed, and sounded like a lion's roar. Probably a circus had passed and a lion had got loose and was prowling about, seeking what he could devour! He thought of ringing up the house, but demurred, reflecting that whoever answered the bell would probably be the first victim. Again the roar! Fear overcame his humane impulses; he rang, hoping that if the lion's appetite was appeased by the first victim, he might be spared.
The landlady appeared in the flesh, calmly and quietly. "Did you ring, sir?" she asked, placidly.
"I did indeed," he answered. "Will you kindly tell me whether I am awake or asleep? It seems to me that I heard the roar of a lion. Did no one else hear it?"
The landlady hesitated, embarrassed, and answered, "I did, sir—you and I are the only persons in the house."
"Then the lion is waiting for us?" he said, quaking in his slippers.
"I beg your pardon, sir," the woman answered. "I had hoped that you had not noticed anything—"