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up entirely on milk given to him in a feeding-bottle by our cook, Mahmoud. But the

milk proved too rich for him, and he was put on a diet of raw mutton and cod-liver oil,
to be followed later by a more tempting diet of pigeons and rabbits.

Timothy was provided with two companions Toto, the monkey, who was bold enough

to pull the young tiger by the tail, and then climb up the curtains if Timothy lost his
temper; and a small mongrel puppy, found on the road by Grandfather.

At first Timothy appeared to be quite afraid of the puppy, and darted back with a spring

if it came very near. He would make absurd dashes at it with his large forepaws, and
then retreat to a ridiculously safe distance.

Finally, he allowed the puppy to crawl on his back and rest there!

One of Timothy’s favourite amusements was to stalk anyone who would play with him,

and so, when I came to live with Grandfather, I became one of the tiger’s favourites.
With crafty look in his glittering eyes, and his body crouching, he would creep closer

and closer to me, suddenly making a dash for my feet, rolling over on his back and
kicking with delight, and pretending to bite my ankles.

He was by this time the size of a full-grown retriever, and when I took him out for walks,

people on the road would give us a wide berth. When he pulled hard on his chain, I
had difficulty in keeping up with him. His favourite place in the house was the drawing-

room, and he would make himself comfortable on the long sofa, reclining there with
great dignity, and snarling at anybody who tried to get him off.

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