mer, so that the doors leading to the
wood-shed and the porch were left open, the little bear's world grew
apace. Before, his horizon had been the four walls of the kitchen; now
he could go and come as he pleased, about the yard and in the
outbuildings.

He made the acquaintance of Hecla, the old hound, while he was still a
prisoner in the kitchen, but they came to know each other better when
the cub got out of doors. At first, the dog was inclined to attack the
small bundle of bear-meat, but her master calmed her anger, and
explained to her, as best he could, that Black Bruin was one of the
family and should be treated with respect and consideration. So
finally she became reconciled to his presence, but she never could get
over his scent, which always filled her with suspicion.

When the cub got out of doors where he could run about and exercise, he
began to grow very rapidly in stature. Before, he had been a football
or a bundle of fur, but now he began to put on the semblance of a bear.

He also developed a great genius for mischief. If I should tell of all
the things he overturned or upset, this chapter would be endless.

A naturalist, who has reared several bear-cubs, says, "If you have an
enemy, give him a bear-cub. His punishment will be adequate, no matter
what his offense." But the young farmer and his wife did not think so,
and as for the baby who was now learning to walk, "Bar-Bar," as he
called the young bruin, was a never-ending source of delight.

He would bury his wee hands in the fuzzy hair of the cub and pull with
all his might, and the cub would growl with make-believe fury, but it
seemed to know that the baby did not intend to hurt it, and did not
offer to bite. When the baby pulled its ears too hard, it would simply
run away.

Outside, in the farmyard, among the chickens, turkeys, ducks, and
geese, at first the cub was rather shy, for the gobbler turkey, the
gander and the rooster all set upon him and drove him whining into the
woodshed; but he soon learned that all were afraid of his paws, when he
stood upon his hind legs and really hit out with them, so after that
discovery, he was master of all the feathered folk about the farmhouse.

All about the farm-buildings the little bear followed his master. But
best of all he liked to go to the stable and watch the milking, for in
one corner was a small dish, into which he knew a pint of warm milk
would be poured as soon as milking was don