nen dress, his red leather belt, and twinkling
red shoes. With the independent nonchalance of childhood, he took no note
of the outstretched arms and blandishing smile of Mr. Briscoe, who sought
to intercept him, but made directly toward his mother. His gleaming
reflection sped along in the polished, mirroring floor, but all at once
both semblance and substance paused. With a sudden thought the child put
his dimpled hands over his smiling pink face, while his blue eyes danced
merrily between the tips of his fingers. Then he advanced again, lunging
slowly along, uttering the while a menacing "Mew! Mew! Mew!"

His mother had no heart for his fun. She could scarcely summon the
strength and attention requisite for this fantastic infantile foolery
when all her capacities were enlisted to support her dignity in the
presence of this man, necessarily inimical, censorious, critical, who had
once meant so much in her life. But she could not rebuff the baby! She
would not humble his spirit! She must enter into his jest, whatever the
effort cost her.

It was poor acting certainly. She affected fright, as the child expected.
She cowered dismayed. "Oh, oh!" she cried, watching his erratic approach.
"What _is_ that?" She pretended flight, but sank into a chair, apparently
overpowered. She gazed down at the child with the lifted hands of horror
as he clasped the folds of her gown, his eyes shining with fun, his teeth
glittering between his red lips, his laughter rippling with delight. "Me
scared oo,' mamma," he squealed ecstatically. "Oo didn't know what me
was. Oo t'ought me was a great big bear."

Whereupon she looked down at him with amazed recognition. "Is it _you_,
Archie? Dear me, I thought it was a great big bear."

"Mew! Mew! Mew!" he repeated in joy.

"Why, Archie, old man, bears don't mew!" cried the genial Briscoe,
recovering his equanimity. "Bears _growl_--didn't you know that?"

He straightway began to teach the little fellow a very noisy and
truculent vocalization of the ursine type, which Archie, who was a great
favorite with his host, eagerly imitated, Briscoe appearing throughout
the duet at the pitiable disadvantage of the adult imbecile disporting
himself in infantile wise.

The tumult of the child's entrance had the effect of relaxing for Briscoe
the tension of the situation, but when Archie's nurse appeared at the
door and he ran away at her summons, the host looked apprehensively about
the circle as the par