The painter smiled and pushed his mug across the table. He was a tender-hearted man, and once—when painting the sign of the “Sir Wilfrid Lawson”—knew himself what it was to lack beer. He began to discourse on art, and spoke somewhat disparagingly of the cauliflower as a subject. With a shake of his head he spoke of the possibilities of a spotted cow or a blue lion. “Talking of lions,” said the ancient, musingly, “I s’pose as you never ’eard tell of the Claybury tiger? It was afore your time in these parts, I expect.” The painter admitted his ignorance, and, finding that the allusion had no reference to an inn, pulled out his pipe and prepared to listen. “It’s a while ago now,” said the old man, slowly, “and the circus the tiger belonged to was going through Claybury to get to Wickham, when, just as they was passing Gill’s farm, a steam-ingine they ’ad to draw some o’ the vans broke down, and they ’ad to stop while the blacksmith mended it. That being so, they put up a big tent and ’ad the circus ’ere. “I was one o’ them as went, and I must say it was worth the money, though Henry Walker was disappointed at the man who put ’is ’ead in the lion’s mouth. He said that the man frightened the lion first, before ’e did it. “It was a great night for Claybury, and for about a week nothing else was talked of. All the children was playing at being lions and tigers and such-like, and young Roberts pretty near broke ’is back trying to see if he could ride horseback standing up. “It was about two weeks after the circus ’ad gone when a strange thing ’appened: the big tiger broke loose. Bill Chambers brought the news first, ’aving read it in the newspaper while ’e was ’aving his tea. He brought out the paper and showed us, and soon after we ’eard all sorts o’ tales of its doings. “At first we thought the tiger was a long way off, and we was rather amused at it. Frederick Scott laughed ’imself silly a’most up ’ere one night thinking ’ow surprised a man would be if ’e come ’ome one night and found the tiger sitting in his armchair eating the baby. It didn’t seem much of a laughing matter to me, and I said so; none of us liked it, and even Sam Jones, as ’ad got twins for the second time, said ‘Shame!’ But Frederick Scott was a man as would laugh at anything. “When we ’eard that the tiger ’ad been seen within three miles of Claybury things began to look serious, and Peter Gubbins said that something ought to be done, but before we could think of anything to do something ’appened. “We was sitting up ’ere one evening ’aving a mug o’ beer and a pipe—same as I might be now if I’d got any baccy left—and talking about it, when we ’eard a shout and saw a ragged-looking tramp running toward us as ’ard as he could run. Every now and then he’d look over ’is shoulder and give a shout, and then run ’arder than afore.