Thereupon he began to warm some blue-looking milk, contemplating the new cat, which he had placed in a round basket close to the little stove, while the bullfinch sat on his head. It seemed time to go. “Delighted to see you, sir,” he said, “any day.” And, pointing up at the bullfinch on his head, he added: “Did you ever see anything so wonderful as that bird? The size of its heart! Really marvellous!” To the rapt sound of that word marvellous, and full of the memory of his mysterious brightness while he stood pointing upward to the bird perched on his thick, silvery hair, I went. The landlady was still at the bottom of the stairs, and began at once: “So you found him! I don’t know why I keep him. Of course, he was kind to my little girl.” I saw tears gather in her eyes. “With his cats and his birds, I wonder I keep him! But where would he go? He’s no relations, and no friends--not a friend in the world, I think! He’s a character. Lives on air--feeding them cats! I’ve no patience with them, eating him up. He never lets me in. Cats and birds! I wonder I keep him. Losing himself for those rubbishy things! It’s my belief he was always like that; and that’s why he never got on. He’s no sense of anything.” And she gave me a shrewd look, wondering, no doubt, what the deuce I had come about. I did not come across him again in the gardens for some time, and went at last to pay him a call. At the entrance to a mews just round the corner of his grubby little street, I found a knot of people collected round one of those bears that are sometimes led through the less conspicuous streets of our huge towns. The yellowish beast was sitting up in deference to its master’s nod, uttering little grunts, and moving its uplifted snout from side to side, in the way bears have. But it seemed to be extracting more amusement than money from its audience. “Let your bear down off its hind legs and I’ll give you a penny.” And suddenly I saw my little old friend under his flopping grey hat, amongst the spectators, all taller than himself. But the bear’s master only grinned and prodded the animal in the chest. He evidently knew a good thing when he saw it. “I’ll give you twopence to let him down.” Again the bear-man grinned. “More!” he said, and again prodded the bear’s chest. The spectators were laughing now. “Threepence! And if you don’t let him down for that, I’ll hit you in the eye.” The bear-man held out his hand. “All a-right,” he said, “threepence; I let him down.” I saw the coins pass and the beast dropping on his forefeet; but just then a policeman coming in sight, the man led his bear off, and I was left alone with my little old friend. “I wish I had that poor bear,” he said; “I could teach him to be happy. But, even if I could buy him, what could I do with him up there? She’s such a funny woman.” He looked quite dim, but brightened as we went along.