62 WILD BROTHER 
“He don’t want any plain grub like that, mister. 
Give him an oyster stew !” 
“Say, boss, what he needs is beefsteak and 
onions, with French fried potatoes on the side. 
He ain’t any ordinary no-count bear. I kin tell by 
his shape. He’s a high liver. Say, I bet yer, he’d 
tackle a mince pie real strong.” 
Meanwhile Bruno had gone into a tantrum. Off 
in the corner he was growling and grumbling and 
biting his paw. I was embarrassed and humiliated, 
and much perplexed to know what to do. 
The spectators seemed rather to enjoy my dis- 
comfort. Luckily I had a number of cans of milk 
with me, and after the cub’s rage had subsided 
somewhat, I prepared another supper and filled the 
trough again, this time using less water and adding 
much more of the sweetened milk. I then placed 
the food in the centre of the stall, stepped back to 
avoid another milk-shower, and awaited results. 
A hush of expectancy came over the crowd. I 
could hear the hens fussing about in the yard. 
Barn swallows were flying in and out through the 
big open door, twittering and calling to one an- 
other, as if a little perplexed at this unusual gather- 
ing in their sanctuary. Again the cub, with much 
caution, stealthily approached his supper. His eyes 
rolled about and his upper lip protruded and 
wagged from side to side in a curious and gro- 
