A little boy, coming to collect the tickets, announced: “You can stay here if you like; but you won’t see nothing much, for the animals sit around here, and you’ll have to look over ’em.” So Harry took a better place, near two German gentlemen, one of whom courteously handed him a program, for which there was an extra charge made.

A VIEW TAKEN AT FULL SPEED ON THE ICE RAILWAY.

A scarlet-coated band filled the air with melody, and the show began, introduced by a really blood-curdling roar, such as a healthy and hungry lion gives when he wishes to make an impression. The amphitheater was as full of people as if it had been the only exhibition given that afternoon in Chicago. A baby elephant lumbered in, followed by a large hound and two ponies, and these animals went through a clever performance of marching, wheeling, waltzing, and posing under the direction of a graceful young girl dressed in a close-fitting purple velvet jacket, trousers, and military boots. They were excellently managed, and performed cleverly.

A wild boar came next,—an ugly-faced fellow,—and was put through his feats of hurdle-racing and riding a chariot drawn by another boar. He failed at two hurdles out of three, knocking them over; but was made by the clown, his trainer, to repeat the trick successfully, amid applause. Once the clown made the boar sit down on a high tub, and then cocked a white hat over the animal’s ear, giving him a comical appearance.

The succeeding performance was one of the cleverest. A ring-master came in, bringing a small pony whose neck was covered by a thick white pad, and who carried a flat saddle upon his back. Afterward entered a lithe, tawny lioness, who ran cat-like around the ring, and another enormous hound who did little, but was probably an important part of the show.

A SLEEPING LIONESS.

The lioness leaped upon a high platform, and as the pony came around the ring sprang upon his back just as a circus-rider does. Again the lioness leaped from the pony to another platform higher in the air, and awaited the pony’s second circuit. It was very exciting to Harry, for the lioness seemed anything but cowed—snarling, raising her whiskers, and showing much spirit.

Harry made up his mind that the hound was brought in as a sort of watch-dog, in case the lioness should show more spirit than the circus-performance demanded; and this idea was strengthened by the presence of these great dogs in nearly every act—but usually as very minor performers.