Well, in the first place I did not, of course, see the bear in the city, but in a place called Sackville--a section of country about five miles long, and extending over hill and dale and valley; through woods and across streams. My host owned a beautiful farm--picturesquely beautiful only, not with a money-making beauty--situated upon the slope of a hill, where one could stand and look upon the most tender of melting sunsets, away off toward the broad old ocean. One morning as we were all gathered upon the front stoop, grandpa, mamma, baby, kitten and all, we looked down the valley and saw coming up the hill, led by two men, an immense yellow bear. One of the farm hands was sent to call the men and the bear up to the house. The men, who were Swiss, were glad enough to come, as they were taking bruin through the country to show off his tricks and make thereby a little money. The children were somewhat afraid at first, but soon felt quite safe when they saw he was firmly secured by a rope. Old bruin's keeper first gave him a drink of water, then poured a pailful over him, which he seemed to enjoy very much, as the day was a warm one. One of the men said something in Swiss, at which the bear gave a roar-like grunt and commenced to dance. Around and around the great lumbering fellow went on his two hind legs, holding his fore paws in the air. It was not what one would call a very "airy waltz," however. Again the keeper spoke, and immediately bruin threw himself upon the ground and turned somersaults, making us all laugh heartily. He then told him to shake hands (but all in Swiss), and it was too funny to see the great awkward animal waddle up on his hind legs and extend first one paw and then the other. But what interested us all most, both big and little, was to hear the man say, "Kisse me," and then to watch the bear throw out his long tongue and lick his keeper's face. We then gave the bear some milk to drink, when suddenly he gave a bound forward toward the baby. But he was securely tied, as we well knew. The milk roused all the beast's savage instincts, one of the men said. But what will interest you most of all will be the fact that on the farm (which consisted of five hundred acres, nearly all woodland) there were seen almost every morning the footprints of a real savage bear. The sheep were fast disappearing, and the farmers about were not a little worried. One day I went for a walk into these same woods, and such woods! you Western boys and girls could not possibly imagine them--the old moss-covered logs, and immense trees cut down years ago and left to lie there until all overgrown with mosses and lichens. I never before experienced such a feeling of solitude as in that walk of over a mile in length through those deep dark woods, where sometimes we had literally to cut our way through with our little hatchets (we always carried them with us when in the forest).