A fine white lion and the largest bear died here last week. This bear was
the largest of the three in the pit, and was considered to have been the
finest in England. He usually seized the largest share of cakes and
fruit, and snorted and snarled whenever his companions secured any. He
had latterly grown so fat that he could with difficulty ascend the pole;
and after eating his usual breakfast, he expired suddenly. Like many
other animals we could name, his _greatness_ was his mortal foe--and as
Hume grew too pursy to write, so our four-footed friend became too gross
to climb. Toby, with all his ill-treatment and attachment to strong ale,
is still alive and well.
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