tigate the
surroundings, and he would go about the room, poking his nose into all
the corners, and sniffing suspiciously.

But by degrees as he grew stronger and sturdier he evinced much
curiosity, playfulness and drollery, and to these characteristics would
have to be added, when he became partly grown, a kind of bear sense of
humor which was quite ludicrous.

His first playfellow was the pillow which he tumbled off the sofa one
day. Having discovered that it was detachable, he always made for it
as soon as the spirit of play seized him. He would toss and tumble it
about, now standing it upon end and batting it over with his paw and
then rolling it over and over on the floor.

The second object in the room that claimed his lasting attention was
pussy, but she was much more animated than the sofa-pillow. The first
time that the fuzzy little cub went up and smelted of her, she gave him
a savage cuff on the nose, which sent him whining to his box, and he
did not seek further acquaintance with pussy for several days.

He would stand and look at her for five minutes at a time. This made
the cat very uneasy, and she would go about from place to place, trying
to get away from those small, bright, inquiring eyes. At last the cub
again got up courage to sniff at the old cat, and this time she did not
cuff him.

As long as he was respectful, she did not mind him, but when he got too
playful or subjected her to indignities, pussy retaliated with that
sharp cuff on the nose, which always had the desired effect.

Black Bruin, or Whiney, as he was sometimes called when he was a small
cub, soon learned to make his wants known. When he wished either milk
or water, he would set up the most comical little whine, which was
always effectual in getting it for him. One day he was given a saucer
which had a little maple syrup in it, and his delight knew no bounds.
After that he whined so long and frequently for syrup that he received
his nickname of Whiney.

In the cool April evenings as they sat about the fire, the master would
often lift the small bear upon his knee, and let him sniff about his
clothing, and lick his hand with his long, narrow red tongue. Then he
would roll and tumble him about and Black Bruin would make believe to
bite at his master and chew at his sleeves. Finally, these evening
romps got to be a regular part of the farm-life, as much enjoyed by the
master, as by the cub.

When May came, and it was war