In the old star-maps the Lion is represented as in the act of springing upon his prey. His face is to the west, and the star Regulus is in his heart. The sickle-shaped figure covers his breast and head, Gamma being in the shoulder, Zeta in the mane of the neck, Mu and Epsilon in the cheek, and Lambda in the jaws. The fore-paws are drawn up to the breast and represented by the stars Zi and Omicron. Denebola is in the tuft of the tail. The hind-legs are extended downward at full length, in the act of springing. Starting from the star Delta in the hip, the row consisting of Theta, Iota, Tau, and Upsilon, shows the line of the hind-legs. Leo had an unsavory reputation among the ancients because of his supposed influence upon the weather. The greatest heat of summer was felt when the sun was in this constellation: "Most scorching is the chariot of the Sun, And waving spikes no longer hide the furrows When he begins to travel with the Lion." Looking now westwardly from the Sickle of Leo, at a distance about equal to twice the length of the Sickle, your eye will be caught by a small silvery spot in the sky lying nearly between two rather faint stars. This is the famous Praesepe, or Manger, in the center of the constellation Cancer. The two stars on either side of it are called the Aselli, or the Ass's Colts, and the imagination of the ancients pictured them feeding from their silver manger. Turn your glass upon the Manger and you will see that it consists of a crowd of little stars, so small and numerous that you will probably not undertake to count them, unless you are using a large field-glass. Galileo has left a delightful description of his surprise and gratification when he aimed his telescope at this curious cluster and other similar aggregations of stars and discovered what they really were. Using his best instrument, he was able to count thirty-six stars in the Manger. The Manger was a famous weather-sign in olden times, and Aratus, in his "Diosemia," advises his readers to-- "... watch the Manger: like a little mist Far north in Cancer's territory it floats. Its confines are two faintly glimmering stars; These are two asses that a manger parts, Which suddenly, when all the sky is clear, Sometimes quite vanishes, and the two stars Seem to have closer moved their sundered orbs. No feeble tempest then will soak the leas; A murky manger with both stars Shining unaltered is a sign of rain." Like other old weather-saws, this probably possesses a gleam of sense, for it is only when the atmosphere is perfectly transparent that the Manger can be clearly seen; when the air is thick with mist, the harbinger of coming storm, it fades from sight.