seen. Same with Virtue. Virtue is in the mind of the appreciator. I trust I make myself clear. I once knew a Virtuous Tiger."
The yawn which was frankly distending the mouth of the Vice was nipped in the bud, if yawns do bud, or, to express the fact better, was stifled untimely. Tigers are tigers. Man-eaters he knew, and tigresses he knew, but what was this? Did it gambol friskily around the feet of its owner, a small boy; sleep at night beside his bed, guarding him from harm; give him rides upon its back, and sustain many and varied rôles in play-acting?
"What ith a wirtuouth tiger?" he inquired.
"A tiger Redolent of Virtue," was the reply. "A good tiger. A really nice-minded tiger. A gentlemanly, quiet, steady, reliable tiger. A tiger you could trust with the joint. Quiet to ride or drive. No vice. Ridden by a lady—but no smile on the face of the tiger."
"A darling pet tiger," supplemented the President.
"Tell uth all about it, pleathe Buthter," besought the Vice.
