Bruin, instructed by a jerk of the chain and a rap, put his front paws together. Then, tired of his upright attitude, he went down on all-fours. The brute was not equal to Kate’s anticipations, certainly not as massive and shaggy as pictured by Bewick in his Æsop’s Fables. About the neck it was rubbed by the collar, and the hair was gone. Its fur over the body was patchy and dirty. The beast seemed to be without energy and to be out of health. Its movements were ungainly, its humour surly. Kate soon tired of observing the creature, and would have withdrawn from the ring had she been able; but the crowd was compact behind, and she was wedged into her place. The passive disposition of Bruin was all at once changed by the appearance of a dog that had passed between the legs of the spectators, and which entered the ring and flew at the bear with barks and snaps. “De dogue! Take de dogue away!” shouted the Italian. “De bear no like dogue.” But no owner of the dog answered and attempted to call it off, and the lookers-on were delighted to have the opportunity of seeing sport. The dog, apparently a butcher’s brute, sprang about the bear, endeavouring to bite, and darting out of his way whenever Bruin struck at it with his fore-paws. The woman gave up turning the handle of the hurdy-gurdy, and screamed at the dog to desist from irritating the bear, but it paid no attention to her words. Some fellows in the crowd shouted to the assailant to persevere and take a bite. The conductor of the bear shortened the chain so as to obtain a portion wherewith to lash the dog, but he was as unsuccessful as his wife. These united attempts to drive it off served only the more to incense the dog and stimulate it against the bear. The man became angry as the young fellows encouraged the dog, and as the bear became unruly, and endeavoured to wrench the end of the chain from his hand, so as to have more scope for defending himself against his adversary. Rose nudged Noah, and said in a whisper, “Knock her workbox from under her arm.” Flood answered, “’Twould be a shame.” “I won’t speak to you again if you don’t.” “Heigh!” yelled Noah; “go it, Towser!” “Is dat your dogue?” shouted the bearward. “No, not mine,” answered Noah. “He looks a towser, that’s why I called him so. Go it, Towser!” When the bear made a dash at his tormentor, the dog sprang back, and the circle that surrounded the area became an ellipse. On one of these occasions Kate made an effort to withdraw, but Jan caught her by the arm and insisted on retaining her. “Here comes another!” he said, as a terrier dashed in. “We shall soon have a proper bear-bait.”