Walter looked a
little confused; he had graduated several years before, and his
classics were rusty. I felt that my pedagogical position made it
incumbent upon me to take immediate action, but for the life of me I
could not think of an appropriate phrase.
"Give him high English!" cried Mr. Larramie. "That's often classic
enough! Tell him to descend!"
"Orso, descend!" I cried, giving a little foreign twang to the words.
Immediately the bear began to twist like a caterpillar upon the limb,
he extended his hind-legs towards the trunk, he seized it with his
fore-paws. He began slowly to move downward.
"Hurrah!" cried Percy, "that hit him like a rifle-ball! Hurrah for
high English! That's good enough for me!"
"Look at his hind hands!" cried Genevieve. "He has worn all the hair
off his palms!"
I hurried from the tree and reached the ground before the bear. Then
taking the end of the chain, I advised the others to move out of the
woods while I followed with the bear. They all obeyed except
Genevieve, who wanted very much to linger behind and help me lead him.
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