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ALMOST HUMAN 
is condescendingly cleaning his paws and curling his whiskers beside 
her. 
AN EXPERT DANCER. 
Besides mastering the art of boxing, Mr. Polar-Bear has become 
an expert ragtime dancer. This accomplishment delights everyone 
who visits him, although those unacquainted with the meaning of his 
movements can only admire the rhythmic swing of his lithe body as he 
trips lightly backwards and forwards, and fail to appreciate the full 
meaning of the actions. He first became actuated by the desire to 
dance when the Vice-Regal band, which plays at the gardens every 
Sunday and holiday, began playing the heady ragtime airs. These 
proved irresistible to the lover of bright music, and from keeping time 
to the intoxicating tunes he slowly developed a well thought out dance 
to accompany his favorite music. He sways his head and body as the 
conductor of an orchestra does in keeping with the time, and lifts his 
feet lightly and gracefully in short, low steps, as he waltzes backwards 
and forwards, around and around his pond. Every now and then as he 
reaches one particular wall of his cage he lifts his great body — perhaps 
nine to ten feet high when on his hind feet — and peers through the bars 
in hope of seeing the makers of the entrancing strains; but not much 
time is wasted on this fruitless endeavor; down he comes, and back he 
goes so statelily, so attractively, that he would convert an anchorite to an 
approval of this lilting art. 
A USELESS MOTHER. 
A very happy life is led by these two in their home at the Zoo, far 
away from the Arctic snows and the walrus meat and the seal blubber 
of their native regions. They thrive on meat and an occasional fish, 
and have reconciled themselves to eating biscuits and peanuts like the 
monkeys. It was hoped when they settled down so contentedly and 
thrived so well that they would rear a family there. All over the world 
it is the ardent desire of zoological authorities to rear baby Polar bears, 
but although it is a common enough event for them to be born in 
captivity it is said that none has ever survived very early infancy. To 
begin with, the mother Polar bear is useless as a captive mother. She 
has to be counted out from the beginning, and, indeed, if she is not 
counted out from the moment of their birth, it is too late to think of 
it, for her babies have already died from neglect. It is believed that 
the birth of the babies makes her at once go to seek their natural environ- 
