The Tiger on the Hudson. Vie

herve. The next thing I knew, I was lying in this
quiet room, with new eyes and ears (oh, why did
they take from me my beautiful ears?) and here
I have been ever since. I am not the tiger I was,
and yet I should n’t wonder if after all, there were
enough of me left to attack—say—a small boy!”

Harry began to feel exceedingly uncomforta-
ble at these words. The tiger's voice, which had
been soft, now grew louder.

“I am hungry—I have had nothing to eat for
ten long years. J am hungry,’ he repeated, and
this time his voice rose almost to a roar.

For a moment there was silence in the room
and then Harry, who was staring, fascinated, saw
that the creature was actually coming toward him!
Slowly he crept, his long white teeth gleaming in
the firelight, and his big green eyes snapping
angrily.

“Yes, lam HUNGRY,” he roared, for the
third time, and then poor Harry realized what the
tiger’s horrible intention was—to satisfy that hun-
ger, by eating Adm. The poor boy’s teeth chat-
tered, he trembled violently. In another minute