"What will you sell them for?" asked Ralph.
"Oh, I can't sell them!" said Peter. "They are my pets. Funny little fellows they are, and not so stupid as they seem. This white one I call Daisy; and the other I call Dozy, because he sleeps a good deal."
Uncle Charles.
THE STROLLING BEAR.
In St. Paul, one day last winter, a big black bear was seen strolling along on the sidewalk on Third Street. He seemed to be quite at his ease, and would stop now and then, and look in at the shop-windows.
Half a dozen men and boys soon gathered behind him, following him at a safe distance. Others, going up and down the street, would stop to learn the cause of the crowd, and perhaps join it, so that they might see the end of the fun.
For a while, Bruin did not seem to care much for the crowd. But they grew to be pretty free in their speech, calling out to him, "Does your mother know you're out?" "Will you take a glass of whiskey?" and making other rude remarks. Bruin stood it for a while, then turned fiercely upon the crowd, who scattered at once, some running into shops, and others down the side-streets.
This free-and-easy bear then continued his stroll. But the crowd behind him grew larger and larger, and he again turned upon them, and made them run, all laughing and shouting, in various directions.