Every now and then came the sharp yelp of the animal, and on the still air he could plainly hear its panting breath. "Oh, why did I come?" he thought, and the tears froze on his cheeks. At last a light appeared. It was his house. He knew that wolves seldom enter a clearing or village, and with renewed efforts he made for the foot of his garden, that bordered on the river. But on came the panting shadow, and as he reached the garden and attempted to run up the bank his skates tripped him. With a loud cry for help he fell.

When he came to, the blue starry sky stared down at him, and the fearful dark shadow was softly licking his face. Then Tim saw what a coward he had been, for it was neighbor Ransom's big Newfoundland dog that had been lost a couple of days before.

The dog, seeing and recognizing Tim, had joyfully chased after him, doubtless thinking he was skating away from him in fun. Tim got up slowly, thoroughly frightened by his evening's adventure, and unclamping his skates, determined that he would never disobey his mother again.


[GYPSY'S FURY.]

BY WILLIAM HEMMINGWAY.

f all the wild animals tamed by man, the elephant is in many respects the most dangerous and treacherous. All old animal-trainers know that. In spite of the many tales that are told about the good nature and honesty of these gigantic brutes, no experienced man will trust them. You will notice, for example, at the circus, that the man who puts the herd of elephants through a lot of tricks always faces them, or, if he turns his back, he does so only for an instant. And while the crowd is applauding the evolutions and capers of the big fellows, you will notice half a dozen helpers armed with elephant hooks ready to jump into the ring and help the trainer at a moment's notice. No one can tell at what moment an elephant may become sulky and obstinate. When that happens the brute must be led away as soon as possible. It is useless to try to force him to go on with his tricks.

Living for years in confinement, having little exercise or none, the poor elephants become sickly, worried, and irritable. They suffer physical changes. If you look closely at an elephant that has been kept long in captivity, you will see that the knees of his hind legs are bent inward, and that the legs look weak and wobbly. That is the result of swaying from side to side, which the elephant does partly from nervousness and partly from want of exercise. The beasts deteriorate mentally in as great a degree, and you will find it the rule that old elephants are bad-tempered.