THE ZOOLOGICAL GARDENS

The next morning just as Mrs. Steiner and her guests had finished breakfast the doorbell rang, and she went to the door, opened it but drew back startled, when she saw a tall policeman.

“Why are you here?” she asked anxiously.

“It is a strange thing that people seem frightened as if fearing arrest when we come to their doors,” he said in a kindly tone. “They should look upon us as protectors against thieves and other evil-doers, yet they seem to look upon us as enemies.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Steiner pleasantly, “one cannot deny that when a policeman comes it seems to signify trouble.”

“Well, I am not bringing trouble. I only came to enquire if there is a boy here named Fritz.”

“Yes, Fritz is here. He is my brother’s son, and is visiting me.”

The boys had heard all and made a rush for the door, where they stood behind Mrs. Steiner, gazing with intense interest at the tall, dark man who had such piercing black eyes and a moustache so large that Fritz told his aunt afterward that it looked as if a blackbird had lighted upon his upper lip and spread its wings under his nose.

“Now, which one of these boys is Fritz?” he asked.

“This one,” said the aunt, turning to the boy, who was doing his best to hide Pixy from the eyes of the law. But Pixy was not willing to be obscured. He did not like the looks of the man, and gave one of his low growls.

“Call your dog away, boy, I have no business with him, although he has no tag. However that is no harm, so long as he stays in the house. Now, Fritz, what is your other name?”

“Fritz Heil. My father is a clothing merchant, and his store ”

“I do not have need to know of him. Did you lose a pocketbook yesterday?”

“No, it was stolen from me.”

“Well, I came to take you to the police commissioner.”

“Aunt, has the policeman arrested me?” asked the boy, clinging to his aunt’s arm.

“You are not under arrest, boy,” laughed the man. “You are only wanted as witness. We hope to catch the thief. Now forward, march.”

“Yes, Fritz, go and do what you can to help. Do you think you can find your way back?”

“I will see that he gets back all right, madam,” and down the steps they went, Franz and Paul looking after them until they disappeared from view.

Fritz was received so kindly by the police commissioner that he felt entirely at ease.

“So you were robbed, my little man. How did the churl look who picked your pocket?”

“Oh, he was no churl, but a pleasant gentleman with a soft voice.”

“Yes, we know this pleasant gentleman. How was he dressed the day you saw him?”

“He wore a tall silk hat, a black broadcloth coat and vest, and although it was a warm day, he had on a fine thin overcoat.”

“Entirely right. You describe him well as to clothing. Now about his face and form?”

“He was tall and slender, had a smooth face, black hair and black eyes that looked quickly about him like a squirrel, and he had a scar over his left eye.”

“Exactly! Now tell me about your pocketbook.”

“My mother gave it to me at Christmas, and ”

“There is no need to tell me that, my son.”

“Yes, there is need, because in it is a tiny card on which is written ‘To my loved Fritz, from his mother; Christmas.’”

“Oh, it is well to know this. Describe the pocketbook.”

“It is of red leather, and has a bright clasp, and upon it I scratched ‘Fritz’ with my pocket knife.”

“That is enough, my boy. Is this it?” and he held upon a red leather pocketbook.

“No, mine is the same shape, but smaller.”

“Is this it?” holding up another.

“Yes!” cried the boy joyously and reached for it.

“First tell me what is in it.”

It was no trouble for Fritz to enumerate the coin; he had done it too often to forget.

“The pocketbook is yours, my little man. Tell me, do you recognize this photograph?”

“Yes, it is he; the very one, only his overcoat was not buttoned when he robbed me.”

“Exactly. We know our man and he is now behind iron bars. When your aunt came here and gave the information, I sent one of my detectives to a public house where these rascals congregate; and, sure enough, there was your fine gentleman partaking of a good dinner washed down by a bottle of good wine at your expense. Your gold-piece is safe and one of the dollars. He used the other and the small change for his refreshments. Here, take your pocketbook, and I wish to say that there are not many grown people who could observe and describe so well the thief who robbed them.”

“I will not trust anybody again as I did that smooth-talking stranger. I will be on the lookout all the time for thieves.”

“Oh, my boy, do not let this affair make you suspicious of your fellow-creatures, or you will never have a peaceful hour upon earth. Of course, we should not trust entire strangers too much, and should carry our money in a secure place. The safest is a pocket on the inside of your vest, a thief could not well get his hand in there. And now let us shake hands in farewell, and may you have a pleasant visit to Frankfort!”

The boy left the office in splendid spirits, for he felt richer than when he first owned the pocketbook and the gold-piece, for he had it again, when he thought it was gone forever. The policeman took him in sight of number 37, and he ran the rest of the way alone. He saw his aunt on the porch waiting for him.

“Aunt Fanny, dear Aunt Fanny, I have my gold-piece and my pocketbook,” and he held it up in glee.

“Oh, my boy, had we Pixy back, that would be a greater joy,” said Mrs. Steiner.

“My Pixy!” cried the boy. “Isn’t he in the house?”

“No, my poor boy, and I have no idea where he is. After you left, the affectionate creature was so lost without you that I could not quiet his restlessness. Franz and Paul had gone out to walk around the square, and left the door open a little way and while I was in the kitchen to see if the bread was ready to put in the oven Pixy slipped out. I saw him disappear, and ran after him as fast as my feet would carry me, but he escaped.”

Fritz broke into bitter weeping and his aunt wept with him for she had no comfort to offer, and when Franz and Paul came they, too, were deeply worried over the loss, for they blamed themselves that they did not see that the door was latched.

“What can we do?” they asked Mrs. Steiner.

“The first thing is to run to the station-house and tell the police. They have found the thief and may find the dog.”

“Oh, Fritz, have you really got your gold-piece?” they asked in a breath.

“Yes, and my pocketbook, but they are no pleasure to me now that I have lost Pixy, and I am the only one to blame. If I had left him at home, instead of bringing him to Frankfort without papa’s knowing it, this would not have happened,” and again he wept and the others could offer no comfort.

“If I don’t find Pixy, I will not go home,” he sobbed; “Papa and mamma and little sister love him so, and even our servant girl will grieve if Pixy never comes back.”

“Let us not lose time in grieving,” said his aunt, putting her hand upon his shoulder, “but let us do what we can to find him.”

“Yes, we will go,” said Fritz, “for the longer we wait, the further away he will be,” and he ran out, followed by his comrades.

The first person they met was a carpenter with his tools upon his shoulder.

“Have you seen my dog, my Pixy?” asked Fritz as the three halted and looked up in his face. “A beautiful, black dog with curly hair on his neck and shoulders?”

“No, I have seen no black dog,” and the boys ran along again, asking every one they met.

“You are only asking me to plague me,” said a cross old woman, not heeding the tearful eyes of Fritz. “The street boys are getting more tormenting all the time.”

At length a kind-hearted woman told them that she had seen a black dog on the next street, and they ran in breathless haste to see it, but alas! it was not Pixy, for while resembling him, it did not recognize the name of Pixy, nor the voice of Fritz calling it.

“This is my dog, boys! What do you mean by trying to toll him away?” exclaimed a gentleman, coming to the door of a store; but when Fritz explained that he had lost his dog, the gentleman believed him and became a sympathizing friend.

“I will give you the advice to go to the animal asylum,” he said. “Stray dogs and other animals are taken there and good care given them until the owners claim them.”

“Oh, if my Pixy falls in good hands until I can find him,” said Fritz.

“I must tell you, boys,” continued the gentleman, “that in Frankfort, as in other cities, there are people who will steal dogs in order to get a reward. But your dog may only be lost, and the best way will be to put a notice in the morning paper. Then if he is at the asylum, they will let you know.”

At that moment a well-known voice said, “Good day, doctor, what important business have you with my young friends?”

It was Uncle Braun who spoke, and the boys were so delighted to see him that half their trouble seemed to be gone.

“Don’t be so distressed, Fritz,” he said. “I will put a notice in the paper saying that a black dog answering to the name of Pixy has strayed away, and will promise a reward to anyone who will bring him to 37 Bornheimer street. Now run home, boys, and do not keep Mrs. Steiner anxious about you.”

He added to his kindness by going with them as far as number 37, and when the triplets hurried up the steps, they found Mrs. Steiner on the porch watching for them. She was sad to see that Pixy was not with them, but cheered Fritz by saying that Uncle Braun generally succeeded in what he undertook, and all ate dinner with hope in their hearts. But when they arose from the table and Fritz saw Pixy’s plate on the back porch, he threw his arms about his aunt, and wept.

“Oh, Aunt Fanny,” he said, “if I only knew that Pixy was in the asylum or some other safe place, and not wandering the streets, hungry and looking for me, I would not feel so badly! but I am afraid the street boys will throw stones at him and he will run away and never come back.”

“If your gold-piece that you gave up as lost was found, so Pixy may be. Do not cry any more, my darling, or you will be sick. Perhaps your dog may be on his way back to the Odenwald.”

“If we had walked all the way he might track us, but we came in the cars from Umstadt.”

“In spite of that disadvantage he may find his way home, as he did the time your neighbor gave him away.”

“Where will we go to-morrow?” asked Paul with the kind intent of taking Fritz’s thoughts from his trouble.

“In search of Pixy.”

“No,” responded Mrs. Steiner, “that will be of no use. You might walk the streets from morning until late at night every day, and it would be of no advantage to you or the dog. Let us go this afternoon to the zoological gardens and see the many animals from foreign countries. We will have some dinner and then go, that we may have a long afternoon at the gardens.”

This was a happy thought. Nothing could have taken the boy’s mind from his loss of the dog so well as did the many varied interests which the gardens offered.

Near the entrance was a large, fine building used by visitors as a resting-place, and for refreshments. Mrs. Steiner did not pass it by, but the four went in and she bought a supply of cake as a supplement to their light dinner. Then they went to see the splendid crested pea-fowls that were spreading their brilliantly tinted fans on the green lawn. As they passed a company of gay-plumaged parrots they were crying, “Dora! Dora!” and Mrs. Steiner told the boys of a lady who owned the large green parrot and was so weary of hearing it scream, “Dora! Dora!” from morning until night, that she gave it to the garden; and now all the parrots screamed “Dora.”

“Ask it what its name is,” she said to Fritz.

“What is your name?” he asked, going close to it.

“Same as yours,” was the reply, followed by croaking laughter.

This amused the boys greatly and they would have remained there longer, but they heard low growls from a great cage not far away and going nearer they saw upon a low rock in the centre of it a lioness lashing her sides with her tail and uttering low growls. The floor of the cage was of sand and stretched upon it was the king of beasts, his great head upon his paws, and his savage eyes resting upon the bystanders. At length he arose, and coming to the great iron rungs that surrounded it, he yawned, and the boys started back in affright from the terrible mouth and teeth, but he soon returned to the sand.

“Pixy’s mane is prettier than the lion’s,” said Fritz. “Oh, my Pixy!”

“Yesterday it was your gold-piece, now it is Pixy,” grumbled Franz impatiently. “You should be glad that your dog is running in the open air, instead of being fastened up in a cage.”

“Yes, I am glad of that, but, oh, I cannot keep from crying when I think of the street boys, and how they may chase him.”

“Come to this cage, boys,” called Mrs. Steiner, “I wish you to see a lion that I once held in my arms and petted as if it were a kitten. He is now a great, grown lion, but he was born in this garden, and crowds came to see him and some people would give the keeper a fee to be allowed to take it in their arms. No one would dare to touch him now.”

“Except myself,” said the keeper who came up that moment, put his hand in the cage and combed the long mane with his fingers.

“Is he always so tame?” asked Paul.

“Yes, except at meal time; then they are hungry and show their native ferocity; I would not dare to put my hand in his cage then. If you will come here at five o’clock, you will see him fed.”

They promised to come, then went to see the panther, the hyena, and the wolves; and then Mrs. Steiner called them to go to the great pavilion where the monkeys lived and played as merrily as if in their native haunts; running over the branches of the tree in the centre and swinging from the ropes, chattering, grinning, teasing each other, and making themselves generally amusing to the many spectators who crowded about their pavilion.

“I never imagined so many in one place,” said Fritz, “and they are flying past and around each other so fast that it makes one’s head giddy to watch them. I like that little fellow that is so playful and good-natured. Now a lady has given him a lump of sugar; and oh, see that bigger monkey has taken it from him and eaten it. That is a shame!”

Fritz was so interested in the cunning little creature that he was glad when the lady gave him another lump of sugar which he put quickly in his mouth, swelling out his jaw in a comical manner while his little, sharp eyes were watching the other monkey. But alas! the old tyrant rushed down upon him, took the sugar out of his mouth, and put it in his own, and slapped the little one he had robbed right and left.

“Oh, it is certainly a shame,” said Fritz, and he took off his hat, and put it under his arm while he wiped his heated forehead; when in a flash the little monkey he had so pitied rushed down, grasped his hat, drew it through the rungs and was up on the branches almost before Fritz knew it was gone.

“Oh, Aunt Fanny, he took my hat while I was looking at the big one eating the sugar. Oh, see! he is tearing off the blue ribbon band, and biting pieces out of the rim and dropping them down for the little monkeys,” and tears rolled down Fritz’s cheeks.

The keeper, hearing the laughter, came at once, and with a pole knocked the hat out of the monkey’s hands, and although many little black fingers clutched it as it lay a second on the floor, it was brought to the rungs by the pole and Fritz secured it. But little remained of the rim, and what there was of it was ragged; and when he put it on, peals of laughter from the spectators sent him crying to his aunt. But alas! she too was laughing, and the boy felt that his last friend had gone over to the enemy.

“Oh, little Fritz!” she said, trying in vain to look sympathizing and serious, “there is one kind of bird they can add to their collection to-day and that is the pechrogel, for surely you, poor child, are that unlucky bird. But never mind; your luck will change; your Pixy will come back, and I will buy you a new straw hat.”

“Yes, but we must go away from here. It makes me sick to see the people laughing at me.”

“Yes, we will go and see the birds. That is my favorite place in all the garden.”

On their way, they passed the cage where serpents of every kind were twisting and squirming about, among them the terrible boa-constrictor, and the python; but Mrs. Steiner could not look at them, and asked the boys to stay but a little while, but they could halt at the tanks of the South American alligator, the rhinoceros, the great turtle, and the hippopotamus; all animals which the boys had never seen except in pictures and were of wonderful interest to them.

The bird enclosure was truly an attractive place. Among the branches overhead were many kinds of small birds singing, chirping and chattering, and Mrs. Steiner pointed out several which should have been acquaintances of the Odenwald boys, but to her surprise they did not appear to know their names.

“I am ashamed that I, a forester’s son, and living in the country all my life, do not know the names of our native song birds, but know the foreign ones from seeing them in pictures,” said Franz. They gazed long at the wise looking owls who were blinking on a wall of masonry, which represented an old tower; then turned their attention to the swan and spoonbills, and other aquatic fowl sporting in the clear water of the lake, while on the shore marched the stately flamingoes, resembling red-coated soldiers.

On a rocky point rested an eagle, and upon another a Golden Condor spread its great wings.

“Oh, see!” cried Fritz, “here comes a great elephant carrying an organ in his trunk. See, he is setting it down; now he is turning the crank and playing a beautiful waltz.”

Of all the new and interesting things they had seen, this was the greatest delight to the boys; and their delight was not dampened by having the animal musician hold out his trunk for pay. Fritz gave him one of his beloved nickels, which was immediately passed to the keeper, and when Mrs. Steiner gave him a sweet bun which she had brought in her pocket especially for him, he put it in his capacious mouth and swallowed it with evident relish.

After the elephant organ-grinder had received all the pay he could gather from the people congregated about the bird enclosure, he passed on with his organ, and Mrs. Steiner took her guests to the bear pits, and to their delight, they saw the great polar bear, the black bear and many others of which they had seen illustrations, and after watching them as much time as they could spare they passed on to see the giraffe, and from thence to the pen of the zebra. They were earnestly engaged in counting its beautiful stripes when from a great tent near they heard the sound of some wild and warlike instrument which seemed to serve as a summons, for people were hurrying to the tent. Mrs. Steiner told the boys to come, and all went through the opening and found that a company of Nubians were about to give a performance. They were in native costume, their coal black hair stiffened with grease to make it stand straight up, their brilliant white teeth in contrast with their black faces.

They commenced the performance by a representation of a sham battle with their spears; and our Grecian heroes were reminded of their weapons which to their regret they were advised to leave in the Odenwald. It was with intense interest they watched the many different exploits exhibited in the one-hour’s performance. When it was finished, Mrs. Steiner suggested that they go to the pavilion on the terrace and have rolls and chocolate while they rested.

This proposition was readily accepted, and just as they finished, Mrs. Steiner upon glancing at her watch found that it wanted but five minutes of five o’clock.

“And we were to see the lions fed,” exclaimed Fritz.

“You can go,” said his aunt, “I will stay here and rest,” and she pointed out the nearest way for them to go. They were just in time to see the keeper walking to and fro before the cage of the great African lion, holding upon the point of a long pole a piece of raw beef. The lion sprang against the stout iron bars which made the cage tremble, and reached out his terrible claws as if to grasp not only the meat but the keeper who was watching a suitable moment to toss in the meat. At length this was done, and the ferocious beast with low growls pounced upon it, took it between his paws, while his eyes rolled about as if dreading an enemy who would take it from him, then tore it to pieces and swallowed it.

The panther was next fed. He took his meat slyly to a distant corner of his cage to eat it. When the boys returned to Mrs. Steiner she said, “Now we have not seen all that is to be seen in the garden. Would you like to stay longer?”

“No, Aunt Fanny,” replied Fritz, “I have seen and heard so much that I don’t think I could remember any more,” and to this Franz and Paul willingly agreed, and they set out cheerily for home.

They had enjoyed a charming afternoon and the refreshments that Aunt Steiner had selected had been so abundant and good that new life seemed to thrill them as they moved along.

“Look, Fritz,” cried Paul excitedly, “there is Pixy.”

“Where?” cried the boy, reddening with surprise and joy.

Paul’s finger was pointing to a black dog, with head and tail depressed from hunger and weariness, but Fritz knew his dog.

“Pixy! Pixy!” he cried joyously, and the three boys ran toward him and the stout well-grown boy who was leading him. As if electrified Pixy raised his head, and barked from joy as he struggled to break away from the rough hand that held him. The three boys grasped the rope, but were powerless to wrench it from the hand that held it.

“Let go!” cried Fritz, “Pixy is mine and you shall not have him.”

“No, he is mine. I bought him to-day from a strange gentleman. Let go the rope, or I will give you a blow upon the head that will keep you from seeing and hearing for awhile.”

A regular struggle now ensued. The big boy planted a blow on Fritz’s face which caused the blood to stream from his nose, but he held on to the rope until knocked down; whereupon Franz and Paul ran behind the boy, pulled him backward on the ground, the three jumped forward, and two of them grasped his arms while the other sat upon his ankles; and Pixy did his share by catching one leg of his pantaloons in his teeth and holding fast.

Mrs. Steiner, in the meantime, was almost sick from fright; but summoned strength to call “Help! Help!” and several men ran to separate the combatants.

“Whose dog is it?” asked a gray-haired gentleman when he could understand the fight enough to know that it was to obtain possession of Pixy.

“It is mine!” sputtered the big boy, “and these three rascals are trying to get it from me.”

“It is mine!” cried Fritz; “we brought Pixy from the Odenwald. We came to visit my Aunt Steiner. There she is.”

“There comes a policeman,” called a boy in the crowd that had gathered around; and the big boy rushed away, disappearing around a corner, which convinced all that he was not the owner of Pixy.

“I am glad that your boy got his dog. He fought a hard battle to recover it,” said one.

“Yes, and just see his face is all bruised and bleeding, and his nose swollen, perhaps disfigured for life. And see his nice suit of clothes all dusty, and a hole torn in his pants; and his stockings, even, have blood upon them!”

And truly poor Fritz was a sorry looking object. His hat, thanks to the monkey, did not add to his appearance. His aunt had intended stopping at a store on their way home to get a new straw hat, but on account of his battered appearance decided to wait until next day.

“But, Aunt Fanny!” said the logical Fritz, “I may look worse to-morrow than I do to-day; and why should we care more for the people in the store than on the street? Besides, the rim of the new straw hat will hide the bruise on my forehead.”

“That is true, Fritz, and I know of a fountain on our way home where you can wash the blood from your face and hands and as much as we can off your clothes, and with a new hat, you will look much better.”

All this was done, and Fritz was really proud of his new hat, and glad to leave the torn one at the store to be thrown away.

When they reached home, Mrs. Steiner’s first care was to give the hungry and tired Pixy a plate of good bread and milk, which he ate gratefully and then lay down upon his piece of carpet by the window.

Oh, how good it was to them all to see him there! and how good the supper which Aunt Steiner prepared, and how good the restful home to the weary ones, and how welcome the comfortable beds to which they retired as soon as supper was finished!