Bruin’s Boxing Match.—Page 335.
“‘Bill and I both snickered, but the bear didn’t hear us. He was mad right off, and with a snort he hit the mall a pretty good cuff; back it came like greased lightning, and took him again square on the snout with a whack that must have made him just see stars.
“‘Bill and I could hardly hold ourselves; but even if we had laughed right out I don’t believe that bear would have noticed us, he was so mad. You know a bear’s snout is mighty tender. Well, he grunted and snorted, and rooted around in the leaves a bit, and then went back at the mall as if he was just going to knock it into the other side of to-morrow. He stood up to it, and he did hit it so hard that it seemed to disappear for half a second. It swung right over the limb; and, while he was looking for it, it came down on the top of his head. Great Scott! how he roared! And then, scratching his head with one paw, he went at it again with the other, and hit it just the same way he’d hit it before. I tell you, Bill and I pretty near burst as we saw that mall fly over the limb again and come down on the top of his head just like the first time. You’d have thought it would have cracked his skull; but a bear’s head is as hard as they make them.
“‘This time the bear, after rubbing his head and his snout, and rooting some more in the leaves, sat back and seemed to consider. In a second or two he went up to the mall, and tried to take hold of it with one paw; of course it slipped right away, and you’d have thought it was alive to see the sharp way it dodged back and caught him again on the nose. It wasn’t much of a whack this time, but that nose was tender enough then! And the bear got desperate. He grabbed for the mall with both paws; and that way, of course, he got it. With one pull he snapped the codline, and the victory was his.
“‘After tumbling the mall about for a while, trying to chew it and claw it to pieces, and getting nothing to show for his labor, he appeared absolutely disgusted. He sat down and glared at the bit of iron-bound oak lying so innocent in the leaves, and kept feeling at his snout in a puzzled sort of way. Then all of a sudden he gave it up as a bad job, and ambled off into the woods in a hurry as if he had just remembered something.’”
This story had called forth a running commentary of appreciative chuckling. When it ended, every one was in a merry humor.
“I think,” remarked Queerman, “that I, too, have kept one of my best stories for the last. At least, it seems the best to me; and I hope you fellows won’t think it the worst, anyway.”
“We’ll tell you about that after we hear it,” said Magnus.
“Well, here goes,” continued Queerman. “My title is—