For a moment it
made me think of the star that had winked the night before.
Mrs. Chester hurried into the house, and in company with the
stable-man I crossed the yard towards the bear.
"You are sure he is gentle?" said I.
"Mild as milk!" said the man. "I was a-playin' with him last night.
He'll let you do anything with him! If you box his ears, he'll lay
over flat down on his side!"
When we were within a few feet of the bear he sat upright, dangled his
fore paws in front of him, and, with his head on one side, he partly
opened his mouth and lolled out his tongue. "I guess he's beggin' for
his breakfust," said John.
"Can't you get him something to eat?" I asked. "He ought to be fed, to
begin with."
The man went back to the kitchen, and I walked slowly around the bear,
looking at the chain and the post, and trying to see what sort of a
collar was almost hidden under his shaggy hair. Apparently he seemed
securely attached, and then--as he was at the end of his chain--I went
up to him and gently patted one paw.
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