BRUNO MUST DEPART 119 
never walked round it, but went through it or over 
it. To him it made no difference whether a chair 
had two, three, or four legs. 
Imagine then my consternation one afternoon 
when I saw him bound into the front hall through 
the door, which had inadvertently been left open. 
I rushed after him, to save the furniture, or pick up 
the pieces and clear away the wreck. At first he 
could not be located. Everything was in order — 
nothing broken, and all quiet. Presently a glad 
shout of relief from Comrade brought me to her 
side. There, comfortably ensconced in a velvet- 
seated chair, sat our friend Bruno. He had evi- 
dently come for an afternoon call and was now 
patiently waiting for tea to be served. For his gen- 
tlemanly behavior on this occasion I rewarded him 
with three figs and a small bunch of raisins; then, 
politely and cautiously, I showed him the door. 
Our cook was very fond of Bruno. The bear 
always relished the food that she gave him, and 
often accepted her invitation to come into the 
kitchen. On one of his visits, when cook’s atten- 
tion was elsewhere, he slipped into the pantry. 
Not since the days of his childhood, when he rev- 
eled in the sugar-barrel, had he sniffed such 
delicious odors. A big brown jug of molasses was 
conveniently at hand. He slid it out from under 
the shelf, lapped up the sweet brown sugar that 
