were
always entertained with these droll exhibitions.

But one day, in the spring, when he had been about a year in captivity,
Billy was detected in making free with the young cabbages in the garden.
A stout negro man picked up a branch of rose-bush, and gave the marauder
a playful stroke. Filled with rage, Billy sprang upon the man, shook him
as if he had been a bundle of straw, and bit the poor fellow so severely
that he died. Billy was at once shot. A pet that could not control his
temper better than that was considered rather too dangerous to keep.

In a wild state, when in distress, young bears utter cries like those of
a child in trouble. During an overflow of the Mississippi the
inhabitants of a plantation were alarmed by the dreadful wailings, as
was supposed, of some children in a swamp. After a careful search two
little cubs were found in the hollow of an old tree, locked in each
other's arms. The mother bear had been drowned or shot, and these funny
little "babes in the woods" were crying with fright and hunger, and
appeared to welcome the protection of man with real joy.

Bears are very fond of whiskey and other kinds of strong drink, and when
intoxicated will act very much like a man in a similar condition.

[Begun in No. 1 of HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE, NOV. 4.]

THE BRAVE SWISS BOY.

_IV.--A TERRIBLE FALL._

For a moment father and son stood silent on the brink of the crevasse,
looking after the chamois.

"We can't get across here, father," said Walter, in a whisper; "let us
try and find some other way."

"We can't find a better spot than this," replied his father, examining
his gun.

"But what's the use of shooting him? What's the good of a dead chamois
if we can't get him?"

"When he's once dead, boy, we'll soon find some means of getting at
him," was the answer. "A board laid over the crevasse will be an easy
way of recovering the venison."

"But we haven't got a board, father."

"That we'll see about. Just stand on one side, Watty."

The hunter cocked his gun, took aim for a moment, and was going to fire,
when he turned suddenly pale, and dropped his arm.

"What's the matter, father? Do you feel ill?" inquired Walter, with
anxiety.

"No," replied the huntsman; "but it seemed as if the ice was giving way
just as I was going to fire. But it can't be," he continued, stamping
his foot; "the ice is solid and firm enough."

"Let us go home, father," implored Walter. "I feel a prese