BRUNO MUST DEPART 125 



point between my shoulder-blades. And now the 

 scene grew more animated. Our little play was 

 changing from comedy to tragedy. The bear began 

 to dance and whirl me round and round. He bent 

 me backwards. He pushed me violently from side 

 to side. Oh, how I wish I had known at that time 

 the steps of the weird and wriggly dances of to-day ! 



But Bruno's ragtime demonstration gave me no 

 enjoyment. His claws were setting into the flesh 

 of my back. I was growing tired and anxious. 

 Vainly I requested that we sit down and rest a 

 while. But no, it was on with the dance, and away 

 we whirled. Intermittently I caught glimpses of 

 Mrs. Underwood anxiously watching my efforts 

 from a vantage-point on the piazza. Her face grew 

 longer and longer with my every revolution. 



Awkwardly I missed step, and one of Bruno's 

 heavy paws came down upon my foot. Backward 

 I fell on the grass. The bear on top kept firm his 

 hold upon his partner, and right there, as far as I 

 was concerned, this story was near its end. Bruno 

 was beginning to lose his temper. He would not 

 let me get up. I tried to choke him off; but the 

 harder I gripped his throat, the more he growled 

 and shook my jacket, and the tighter he squeezed 

 me in his arms. Oh, why had n't I taken the advice 

 of my friends and sent him away long ago ? 



Suddenly, at this critical point, the fates were 



