armed. He
pretended to be bitterly outraged by this treatment, but no sooner was
the basket in position beside the desk again than he would caper up and
gleefully knock it over, promptly presenting his ruffled head to have
his punishment repeated.

Apart from our enjoyment of his crimes, it was difficult to punish him,
because his sunny spirit turned every fresh experience into fun. He
reminded me of a family tradition of an incorrigible baby uncle, whose
clerical father, in despair at the child's ability to find amusement
under all penal circumstances, stripped him naked and shut him into an
empty room to repent of his sins. But when the parental eye
condescended to the keyhole, it beheld a rosy cherub with puffed-out
cheeks dancing merrily about and blowing a bewildered fly from one end
of the chamber to the other.

Sigurd loved nothing better than make-believe discipline,--to be
whacked with the feather-duster, "blown away" with the bellows, rolled
up in the Sunday newspaper, anything that gave him an excuse for
frisking, barking, dodging, scampering, kicking, rolling, tumbling, and
rushing in at the last for a hug of assured understanding. We could
keep him quiet for hours at a time by putting a cooky or any bit of
sweet into a small pasteboard box, tying it up and fitting it into as
many more, of increasing sizes, as time and material allowed. Sigurd
would watch the process with sparkling eyes and then, taking the packet
between his forepaws, settle down to the long task of getting at that
cooky. Sometimes he would sigh with weariness or sink his yellow head
to the floor in momentary despair. But he never gave up, though he
often paused long enough to restore his energies by a nap. Taking the
ragged bundle to another part of the room, as if his labors might be
assisted by some special quality in a different rug, he would fall upon
his puzzle again and not desist until the goal of all that patient
endeavor, one morsel of sweetness, gave its brief delight to his
triumphant tongue. This device of the boxes was a great resource when
rough weather kept us in, for the youngster, who did not yet venture
far without us, was incessant in his search for occupation. When this
led him into genuine mischief and brought upon him actual rebuke, he
took it so to heart that no member of the household, in kitchen or
study, could get on with her work for the next half-day, for Sigurd
would trot from one to another, with imploring e