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.