g out there in the yard, and he now found his way up the
steps. The children were very much frightened at the great, grim-looking
beast, and crept each one of them into a corner. But he found them all
out, and rubbed them with his nose. He did them no harm, not the
slightest. 'It is certainly a big dog,' thought they; and so they patted
him kindly. He laid himself down on the floor, and the smallest boy
tumbled over him, and amused himself by hiding his curly head in the
thick black hair of the animal. The eldest boy now took his drum, and
made a tremendous noise; and the bear rose up on his hind legs, and
began to dance. It was charming. Each boy took his weapons--for they had
been playing at soldiers before their visitor arrived. The bear must
have a gun too, and he held it like a regular militia man. What a fine
comrade they had found!--and so they marched about the room--'one, two!
one, two!' Presently, however, the door opened. It was the children's
mother. You should have seen her--her face as white as a sheet; her
half-opened mouth, her staring eyes. The smallest of the children ran
up to her mother, and shouted with all her might, 'Mama, we are playing
at soldiers!'"

[Illustration: THE JUGGLER AND HIS PUPILS.]

Bears have frequently been taught a great many funny tricks. I remember
seeing one, when a boy, that would stand on his head, and dance, and
perform sundry other feats of skill. His master was an old man, who
passed himself off among the little folks as a conjurer. He was dressed
in a most grotesque manner, and played on a drum and some kind of wind
instrument at the same time. Besides the bear, who seemed to be the hero
in the different performances, the juggler had some dogs, which he had
trained to dance to his music, and a cock which would walk and dance,
after his fashion, on stilts. But I should not care to witness any such
performances now. I should not be able to keep out of my mind the
thought that the different animals engaged in these exhibitions must
have been subjected to a great deal of pain and ill treatment before
they could have arrived at such a stage of proficiency, and that thought
would imbitter the entertainment, I imagine.

The Rat and Mouse.

Every body, almost, entertains a sort of hostility to the rat family,
and considers himself licensed to say all manner of hard things about
them. They are a set of rogues--there is no doubt about that, unless
they are universally