The hungrier the beast, the greater the
fascination. But whether because the spectators envied his appetite,
or, more humanely, because it was so soon to be satisfied, young
Jolyon could not tell. Remarks kept falling on his ears: "That's a
nasty-looking brute, that tiger!" "Oh, what a love! Look at his little
mouth!" "Yes, he's rather nice! Don't go too near, mother."
And frequently, with little pats, one or another would clap their hands
to their pockets behind and look round, as though expecting young Jolyon
or some disinterested-looking person to relieve them of the contents.
A well-fed man in a white waistcoat said slowly through his teeth: "It's
all greed; they can't be hungry. Why, they take no exercise." At these
words a tiger snatched a piece of bleeding liver, and the fat man
laughed. His wife, in a Paris model frock and gold nose-nippers,
reproved him: "How can you laugh, Harry? Such a horrid sight!"
Young Jolyon frowned.
The circumstances of his life, though he had ceased to take a too
personal view of them, had left him subject to an intermittent contempt;
and the class to which he had belonged--the carriage class--especially
excited his sarcasm.
To shut up a lion or tiger in confinement was surely a horrible
barbarity.
Pages:
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250