BRUNO IN BELMONT 85 
suddenly became alarmed by a passing dog. Hear- 
ing our voices, he jumped over the wall and came 
running up the path toward the lady, his natural 
protectress. She, in great alarm, turned in her 
tracks, and pulling her child behind her, ran in the 
opposite direction. I too joined the procession, 
and tried to explain as I ran that there was no 
cause at all for alarm. The baby was the only 
one who enjoyed that situation; for her it was a 
frolic long to be remembered. 
All the children on the place were fond of the 
bear and loved to play with him. Alice came over 
one morning, bringing her brand-new best doll. 
“Bruno,” said Alice, with her sweetest smile, 
“don’t you want to know my nice dolly, Sarah? 
Shake hands with her, Bruno. I hope you will 
like her.” 
The cub did seem to like her, though he did not 
shake her hand. What he shook was her head. 
Alice’s smile changed instantly to a look of con- 
sternation, and her voice grew sharp and tense. 
“Stop it, you naughty bear! Oh, see what he is 
doing! Oh, please, Uncle Lyman,” she appealed 
to me, “make him stop it.” 
She was crying now, but it was too late for me to 
interfere. The bear had rudely snatched the doll 
from its carriage and was making off with it down 
the meadow. Alice, screaming in dismay, with her 
