The little lioness was very timid. If anyone tried to caress her she would repay him with a few blows from her little paws. Her brother, whom they named Hubert, was quite different. He would sit quiet, looking with some astonishment at all that passed, but was not cross. He was idolized by the children, who were ever fond of petting him. The lioness could not be induced to take sufficient food, and she finally died. Hubert got along nicely and was as healthy and strong as if he had been reared in the forest. He was taken to a camp of soldiers, where he became the idol of the regiment. He was always present at parade and would play with the men during leisure hours. As he grew older his capers became somewhat serious. He showed a liking for sheep and donkeys, which made it necessary for him to be chained. Finally, after he had killed a horse and dangerously wounded two men he had to be caged. Girard still continued to pet him, however. Every night he would open the cage, and Hubert would spring out joyously, playing with him at hide-and-seek, embracing him with an ardor that was more affectionate than agreeable. One night as they played Hubert came very near strangling his master, and probably would have succeeded if the soldiers had not beaten him away. That was the last time they played hide-and-seek together. Hubert was afterward sent to Paris. Some time later Girard went to see him. Hubert was lying half asleep, not taking much notice of the visitors. Suddenly he raised his head, his eyes enlarged and there was a nervous twitching of the muscles of his face. He swung his tail from side to side, showing that the sight of the well-known uniform had aroused him. He knew the uniform, but had not yet recognized his old master. Girard approached and thrust his hand into the cage. It was a touching scene which followed. The lion, without taking his eyes from his master, put his nose to the outstretched hand and began to breathe deeply. With every breath his eyes became more affectionate, and when Girard said to him: "Well, Hubert, my old soldier!" he made a terrible bound against the bars of his cage, which trembled beneath his weight. He stood up, pressed against the bars and tried to break through them. He licked his old master's hand with joy. If anyone else came near the cage he became very angry. At last Girard went away, and when he was out of sight Hubert made the cage tremble with his cries and bounds. SUNFLOWERS AND DAISIES. The dayesye or elles the eye of day, The emperice and flour of floures alle. --_Chaucer, Good Women, l. 184._