BUN. 



Bun was a Southerner and appropri- 

 ately wore the grey. We first met him in 

 a Charleston, South Carolina, residence, 

 where he had been brought by the boys 

 of the family. They, however, were the 

 only appreciative members of the house- 

 hold, so when I recklessly expressed a 

 wish to take Bun north with me, the 

 proposal was hailed with enthusiasm, 

 and upon arriving at the dock on the day 

 of departure I found him there before 

 me, peering anxiously through the bars 

 of his cage. 



I received my charge with mingled 

 feelings of joy and foreboding; a three 

 days' voyage was before me, and I am 

 not a good sailor. My worst fears were 

 realized, for Bun speedily gnawed his 

 way out of his hastily made box, and 

 was found dancing over the berths in 

 my stateroom, chuckling at his escape. 

 Being recaptured and his cage repaired, 

 the incident was repeated with varia- 

 tions, until he was finally secured in a 

 tight wooden box. 



By this time I was thoroughly demor- 

 alized. "Then descended on the Atlan- 

 tic the gigantic stormwind of the Equi- 

 nox," and my sorrows increased, until 

 I assured the stewardess with the resig- 

 nation of despair that I should never live 

 to see land. Poor Bun. was utterly neg- 

 lected, though from time to time little 

 squeaks and moans were heard, as the 

 boat gave a worse lurch than usual. 

 When we finally came to ourselves in the 

 harbor, I was overjoyed to find him not 

 at all injured, except temporarily as re- 

 garded his disposition. 



Upon reaching home, urged by the 

 disapprobation of my family, I made a 

 vain attempt to cage Bun, but his despair 

 was too pitiful. In a few days we were 

 the best of companions ; he climbed upon 

 my shoulder whenever he saw me, run- 

 ning up and down and around my dress 

 as though I were a friendly tree. 



Every evening he curled up under my 

 pillow to sleep, to be subsequently dis- 

 lodged, and placed in a bag of cotton in 

 the closet. One cold night, however, I 

 heard him scrambling about and set the 



door ajar; immediately there was a "tap 

 tap" of tiny feet, a rustle among the blan- 

 kets, a soft little bunch of fur at the foot 

 of the bed, and Bun had found his nest 

 for the winter. Contrary to my expecta- 

 tions, he proved a late riser; when he 

 waked first, he would creep out, stretch 

 himself with a formidable yawn, and 

 proceed to hang by his feet from the 

 headboard and nibble my fingers held up 

 to him, delighting to pinch . harder and 

 harder, though he never forgot himself 

 so far as to bite me. 



He was seldom quiet, unless asleep. 

 Sometimes,, by rubbing his little body or 

 hands, I could coax him to be still, when 

 he would drop his head on one side, close 

 his eyes, and assume such an idiotic ex- 

 pression as generally reduced me to help- 

 less mirth — whereupon he would blink at 

 me reproachfully. 



His most disastrous adventure oc- 

 curred soon after our acquaintance be- 

 gan. A great clatter was heard from 

 the kitchen, where Bun was found 

 dancing up and down, raving in squirrel 

 langauge, while held prisoner by his 

 beautiful bushy tail, which, pushed 

 through the bars of a chair, was attached 

 to a sheet of "sticky fly paper" that he 

 had whisked up from somewhere and 

 flattened against the back. It required 

 some dexterity to separate tail and pa- 

 per, the task not being rendered easier 

 by our tendency to unseemly mirth. 

 Bun's feelings were sorely hurt, and his 

 tail never recovered' its full luxuriance, 

 though it remained his pet vanity, and 

 he spent much time in brushing it. 



His chief vice was curiosity; every 

 corner was explored ; not a package but 

 his fingers and sharp little teeth were 

 busy about it. Nuts, candy, biscuit or 

 cakes were appropriated at once. 



One day he discovered the use and 

 construction of pillows, and was found 

 curled up in the center of one, the room 

 full of flying feathers. He also attempt- 

 ed the investigation of a treasured arm- 

 chair, left, by a friend, for safe-keeping. 

 My admonitions only served to arouse 

 his obstinacy, and I was obiged to fol- 



156 



