You know that a wild man whose spirit had not been utterly broken would never sit there and listen to that hand-organ eight hours every day except Sunday.

The fluent and polished gentleman in charge--who has a dyed mustache--assures us that we have nothing to fear from this 'once ferocious monster of the tropic jungle, with his bestial craving for human flesh,' but that seems a mere matter of form, with the hand-organ going in our ears--" "Really," Miss Lansdale began--or tried to.
"One moment, please! The scholarly person goes on to relate the circumstances of the wild person's capture--substantially as depicted upon the canvas outside--and winds up with: 'After being brought to this country in chains he was reclaimed from his savage estate, was given a good English education, and can now converse intelligently upon all the leading topics of the day.

Step up, ladies and gentlemen' he concludes, with a rather pointed delicacy, 'and you will find him ready and willing to answer all proper questions.'" Miss Lansdale dropped her oars into the water, dully, I thought.

I released the willow that had moored us, but I persisted.
"And he always _does_ answer all proper questions, just as the gentleman said he would.

Doubtless an improper question would be to ask him if he weren't born tame on our own soil, of reputable New England parents; but I don't know.