no 
ALMOST HUMAN 
Bear had ideas about “direct action” that were very disconcerting to 
the belligerents. Without wasting time in making enquiries as to the 
rights and wrongs of the case, or as to who was to blame for the rumpus, 
she would stride in among them and deliver the knock-out blow to the 
lot. The hardest hit, or the one whose feelings were most hurt, would 
slink off into a corner rubbing his sore head — you have heard of a bear 
with a sore head, haven’t you? — and as soon as he was sure he was out 
of reach of his mother’s long arm, he would begin to tell her bluntly 
what he thought of her conduct. In bear language he gave most un- 
mistakable “cheek.” She would not endure the impertinence long, but 
as she was usually fully occupied in dealing with the other two, he was 
reasonably sure of being able to relieve his feelings fairly well before 
she could make a lunge in his direction. As soon as she moved his way 
he, quite alert, scampered for the door of his bedroom, and there he 
would complete his oration on his mother’s shortcomings and end up 
by putting his paw up to his nose. This imitation of naughty little 
boys was so ludicrous that people who were privileged to see it regarded 
it as Baby Bear’s star performance. 
Twenty times a day trouble broke out in that distracted mother’s 
home, and although she tried her best to train them as respectable bears 
should be trained, it is to be feared that they were only too well aware 
that there was nothing worse to be dreaded than a box on the ears, and 
familiarity with that form of punishment made them careless of it. 
Father Bear listened to it all philosophically from the next cage. Since 
he knew there was no possibility of sentencing them to the death he was 
sure they richly deserved, nor of himself being the executioner, he 
washed his hands of the whole business and spent his days then as 
now, in unashamed solicitation of alms. The way he stands bolt upright 
against his cage, and beckons to everybody within range to have pity on 
a poor bear with a starving family on his hands and no work to do, 
is so entertaining, and so successful, that human mendicants would be 
well advised to take a few lessons from this prince of beggars. 
A FIGHT TO THE DEATH. 
Sometimes a lonely animal at the gardens is pitied so much that a 
mate is secured for it. But the introduction of one to the other is not 
nearly as simple a thing as might be imagined. It is not merely a 
case of putting the newcomer into the other’s cage or enclosure, and 
leaving them to kiss and be friends at their leisure. The old-established 
tenant has come to look upon its home as its undisputed possession, and 
no one else dare trespass there. If it does, it must be prepared for the 
