With all my strength I swung myself backward as he made the leap.

His hot breath rushed into my face, his fiery eyes glared close to mine, but his chain was too short.
Then I knew I had no mission for taming panthers.

From the first I had feared that he would kill some child, and it was impossible to prevent them trooping to see him.

After my own narrow escape I protested so strongly against keeping him, that my husband consented to sell him to a menagerie; but those which came were supplied with panthers, and, although he was a splendid specimen, full nine feet long, no sale was found for him.
That adventure supplied memory with a picture, which for long years breathed and never was absent.

If it was not before me it was in some corner, and I knew Tom was crouched to spring on me; his fiery eyes glared, the tip of his tail wagged, and he was waiting, only waiting for me to move.