Kneetime Animal Stories
HIS MANY ADVENTURES
BY
Author of “Squinty, the Comical Pig,” “Mappo, the
Merry Monkey,” “Tum Tum, the Jolly Elephant,”
“Blackie, a Lost Cat,” “Flop Ear, the
Funny Rabbit,” etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
C. P. BLUEMLEIN
PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK, N. Y. NEWARK, N. J.
By Richard Barnum
Illustrated.
(Other volumes in preparation)
BARSE & HOPKINS
Publishers New York
Copyright, 1916
by
Barse & Hopkins
Dido, the Dancing Bear
MADE IN U. S. A.
CHAPTER | PAGE | |
---|---|---|
I | Dido Cuts Up | 7 |
II | Dido Is Caught | 16 |
III | Dido Is Trained | 28 |
IV | Dido Learns to Dance | 38 |
V | Dido Crosses the Ocean | 48 |
VI | Dido in the Country | 58 |
VII | Dido Meets Don | 66 |
VIII | Dido Helps a Girl | 74 |
IX | Dido in the Bakery | 83 |
X | Dido Scares a Man | 92 |
XI | Dido in the Circus | 100 |
XII | Dido in a Fire | 109 |
DIDO,
THE DANCING BEAR
In the woods, on top of a mountain, in a far-off country there once lived a family of nice bears. I call them nice bears for they were. Of course they had long claws, and sharp teeth, but they never bit any one, or scratched any one, because there were no boys or girls, or men or women, living in that part of the woods.
I suppose, though, if a boy went on top of the mountain, and began throwing stones or sticks at the nice bears, they might have run out and scratched him to make him go away. Mind, I’m not saying for sure, but maybe. But, as I have said, there were no boys in the woods to bother the bears who lived all by themselves in a den among the rocks.
A bear’s house is called a den, because it is such a nice, cozy, warm place, just as your father or[8] brother may have a room of his own, all fixed up with the things he likes best, and he calls that his den.
Well, in this den in the woods on top of the mountain lived the five bears. There was Mr. Bear, the papa, and Mrs. Bear, the mother, and there were three little bears, called cubs, just as little dogs are called puppies.
One little bear was named Gruffo, because he had such a deep, gruff voice, though it was not at all cross. And another bear was named Muffo, because he had such big, soft furry paws that when he folded them together it looked just as if he were carrying a muff.
And besides Gruffo and Muffo there was another bear, the smallest of the three, called Dido. Now I am going to tell you some of the many adventures Dido had. Adventures, you know, are what happen to you.
“Gruffo and Muffo, you must take good care of your little brother Dido when you go off playing in the woods,” said Mrs. Bear, for though the bears could not speak in our language they had talk of their own which was just as plain to them as our A B and C talk is to us.
“Take good care of Dido,” Mrs. Bear would say. “Don’t run away from him, or he might be lost. And don’t climb big trees and leave him on the ground, or something might happen[9] to him. And never take him too far out in the water of the lake when you go swimming, or he might be drowned.”
“We won’t, Mother,” said Gruffo and Muffo. “We’ll take good care of Dido.”
“Oh, I guess I can take care of myself,” said Dido, making a funny face with his queer, black, rubbery nose.
“Now that wasn’t a nice thing to say,” said Mrs. Bear, holding up her paw and gently shaking it at Dido. “You ought to be glad your bigger brothers will look after you.”
“Oh, so I am, Mother,” answered Dido. “I’m sorry I spoke that way. May they take me swimming now, down to the lake?”
“I guess so,” answered Mrs. Bear. “Run along, little cubs. I have to go out and see if I can find some berries or sweet roots for your dinner.”
Bears, you know, like to eat berries and the sweet roots of some trees and bushes. Bears also like fish, and honey. Say! if ever you have a pet bear, which might some day happen, you know, and you want to give him a special extra treat, just bring him some honey. He will love it so much that he will eat every bit of it up, box and all!
So while Dido, with his brothers Gruffo and Muffo, walked on along the mountain path to the[10] lake, Mrs. Bear went off in the woods to find some roots and berries for dinner. Of course the little bears might have been able to find some for themselves, but you know how it is with children. Even though they know where the things are to eat they like their mother to get a meal for them.
“I can run faster than you can!” cried Dido to his two brothers, as they went along through the woods. “Look!” And off he started, swinging from side to side, brushing the bushes out of his way as he went.
“Pooh! I can go faster than that!” called Gruffo in his deep voice. “Watch me!”
Then he began to run, and, as he was bigger than Dido, of course he ran faster, and soon passed him.
“I can beat you, Gruffo!” cried Muffo. “See!” Then Muffo ran, and of course he easily ran ahead of the other two bear cubs.
“Let’s have another race,” said Dido, a little later. “I think I can beat you both then,” and slipping up behind Gruffo he began tickling him in his ear with a piece of tree branch.
“Ouch! What’s that, a bee?” cried Gruffo, brushing his ear with his paw, for his ear tickled. He did not see what Dido was doing.
“Let me alone, bee!” growled Gruffo. “That is, unless you will show me the hollow tree where[11] you have some honey,” went on the bear cub. “If you do that you may tickle me all you please!”
“Ha! Ha!” laughed Muffo at the funny way Dido was tickling Gruffo. “Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho!” and he nearly fell down, he laughed so hard.
Of course I don’t mean to say that bears laugh as we do, but they have their own way of making fun and laughing at it. So when I say, in this story, that a bear laughs, or talks or does anything, I mean he does it in a bear’s way, and not in our way.
“Where is that bee?” asked Gruffo. And then, as he heard Muffo laughing, and Dido giggling, Gruffo turned quickly and saw that it was his little brother tickling him in the ear with the stick.
“Here, you stop that!” cried Gruffo, and he reached out his paw to catch Dido. But Dido jumped back, and so quickly that he tripped over a tree root, and down he went, turning a back somersault.
“Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho!” laughed Gruffo this time. “That was very funny, Dido. Do it again!”
“No,” answered Dido, “I will not, if you please. I did not do it on purpose, and besides, I bumped my nose when I fell.”
“Oh, that’s too bad!” said Gruffo, for he remembered[12] what his mother had said about looking after little Dido. “I’m sorry you hurt your nose,” went on Gruffo. “Still, if you had not tickled me you would not have fallen. Never mind, here is some soft mud you can hold on your nose, that will make it well.”
From a wet place, near a spring of water, Gruffo took up some soft mud, and put it on his little brother’s nose.
“Does that make the pain better?” asked Gruffo.
“Lots better, thank you,” answered Dido. For it is true that bears and other animals use mud as we do plaster and poultices. If ever your dog gets stung by a bee on the nose, you watch him hunt for some soft mud to put on the stinging place.
“Well, come on if we’re going swimming,” said Muffo, after a bit.
So the three bears went on through the woods on the mountain, until they came to the lake, where the water was blue and clear and cold. Without stopping to take off any clothes (for of course they did not wear any), the three bears plunged into the water and began swimming about. Bears love to play in the water, and that is why, in parks and other places where they keep tame bears, there is always a pool of water for them to splash in. And sometimes there is a[13] wooden ball in the water for the bears to play with, too, for bears love to play.
“Watch me dive!” cried Dido, and down he went under the water. Up he came, a little later, right near Muffo, and with his paw Dido splashed some water in Muffo’s face.
“Say, you’re cutting up a lot to-day, Dido!” cried Muffo. “What makes you do so many tricks?”
“Oh, I just feel happy!” cried Dido, gayly.
Then he swam about some more, splashing in the water of the lake, and lapping some water with his red tongue.
“I wish we could catch some fish,” said Gruffo, after a bit. “I’m hungry.”
“So am I,” said Muffo. “Let’s go fishing.”
“I’m coming, too,” said Dido.
The bears came up out of the water, with their fur dripping wet, and started to go fishing. They did not need poles or lines or hooks. All they had to do was to sit on a log, near the lake, and when, by looking down, they saw a fish swimming along they just put their claws quickly in and pulled the fish out. It was very easy for them, but it would have been hard for you or me.
“Ha! I see a fish!” suddenly cried Dido. “Watch me catch him!”
Down into the water he thrust his paw. But something was wrong. Either Dido did not see[14] the fish, and only thought he did, or he went after it too quickly. For he reached over too far, and the next thing he knew he was splashing in the lake again. He had fallen in.
“Ho! Ho!” laughed Muffo. “That’s a queer way to fish, Dido.”
“I—I didn’t meant to do that!” spluttered Dido, as he crawled out on the bank.
“Try again,” said Gruffo, as he helped his little brother out on the log. “Maybe next time you will catch one. Now you watch how I do it,” for Gruffo knew that Dido was little, and had many things to learn that bears must know if they are to get along in the woods.
Pretty soon Gruffo saw a big fish, and with one scoop of his paw he landed it on the bank.
“Oh, that’s a fine one!” cried Dido. “I wish I could catch one like that.”
“I’ll give you some of this,” said Gruffo kindly. “There is enough for all of us.”
Then he divided the fish with his two brothers, and they ate it, not stopping to cook it as we would have to do. Bears like their meat and fish without being cooked.
After they had eaten the fish, and had swam in the lake to wash their paws and faces, the three bears went back to the den in the rocks.
“Oh, Mother, we had such fun!” cried Dido. Then he saw his father asleep in the sun, and,[15] taking up a leafy branch Dido went softly over and began to tickle Mr. Bear on the nose.
“Wuff! Ker-choo!” sneezed Mr. Bear. “What’s that; a fly?”
“Oh, it’s just Dido,” said Mrs. Bear. “He’s cutting up again. You must not be too funny,” she went on, shaking her paw at her little bear cub, “or some day something may happen to you.”
And one day something did happen to Dido.
One nice, warm sunny day, when it was too hot to stay inside the den among the rocks, the nice bears were all out in front, lying in the shade of the woods.
“Oh, my! How hot it is!” cried Dido, and he opened his mouth wide, and let his red tongue hang out, for animals, such as dogs and bears, cool themselves off that way. You must have seen your dog, when he had run fast, after a cat, perhaps, open his mouth and breathe fast, with his tongue hanging out.
“Let’s go swimming in the lake again!” cried Dido to his brothers.
“All right,” agreed Gruffo.
“We’ll all go,” said Mr. Bear. “Come along.”
So off through the woods walked the family of bears toward the cool, blue lake, high up in the mountains. Dido could hardly wait to get there, and as soon as he saw, through the trees, the sparkle of the water he began to run. He ran so fast that he stumbled over a stone, and fell down.
“Oh, Dido!” called his mother. “You must be more careful. You must not go so fast. Something will happen to you some day if you do not look where you are going.”
“I didn’t hurt myself that time, anyhow,” answered Dido, as he got up, and jumped into the lake. There he swam about, as did the father and mother bear, and the other two cubs. Dido splashed his brothers every time he came near them, but they did not mind, for he was such a cute little fellow and he meant no harm. Besides, it was so warm that the more water they had on them the better Gruffo and Muffo liked it.
“It makes me hungry to go in swimming,” said Mrs. Bear. “I am going off in the woods to look for some berries.”
“I’m coming, too,” said Dido. “For I am hungry myself.”
Soon Mrs. Bear found a bush on which were growing some big red berries. These she pulled off with her forepaws, which were, to her, almost like our hands are to us, and the mother bear filled her mouth with the fruit. Dido did the same, and soon he was not as hungry as he had been. Then along came Mr. Bear, with Gruffo and Muffo, and they, too, ate the red berries off the bushes.
All at once Mr. Bear stopped eating, and, lifting[18] his nose up in the air, sniffed very hard two or three times.
“What is the matter?” asked Mrs. Bear quickly.
“I think I smell a man,” answered the papa bear. “See if you can smell anything.”
Mrs. Bear lifted her nose up in the air and she, also, sniffed. Bears, you know, as do most wild animals, use their noses as much as they do their eyes to tell when there is danger. And to wild animals a man, nearly always, means danger. If you were out in the woods, and could not see any one, you could not tell, just by smelling the air, whether some person was near you or not—that is, unless they had a lot of perfume on them, and then, if the wind was blowing toward you, why you might smell that.
But bears have much better noses for smelling than have we, and they can smell a man in the woods even if he has no cologne on him.
“Sniff! Sniff!” went Mr. Bear.
“Sniff! Sniff!” went Mrs. Bear.
“Yes, I can surely smell a man,” the papa bear said in a low voice. “It is the first time I have known them to come around here.”
“And so can I smell a man,” added Mrs. Bear. “We had better get away from here.”
Then the bears ran off through the woods to their den. For though big bears are very strong[19] and can fight well, they would much rather run away from a man than fight him, unless they find they can not get away. For when a man goes into the woods where there are bears he nearly always has a gun with him, and while bears know they are stronger than a man they also know that a gun is stronger than a dozen bears.
When Dido, with his brothers and father and mother, got back to the den in the rocks, the little bear cub saw that his father was worried about something. Mr. Bear walked up and down in front of the pile of rocks, sniffing the air, and looking on all sides.
“What is the matter, Papa?” asked Dido, in bear talk, of course.
“It’s that man I smelled in the woods,” said Mr. Bear. “I fear he may find our den.”
“Well, what if he does?” asked Dido.
“Then it would not be safe for us to stay here,” answered Mrs. Bear. “If men are coming into our woods it is time for us to go away.”
“What! go away from our nice den?” asked Gruffo. For though the den was only a hole in the rocks, with a pile of leaves in one corner for a bed, still, to the bears, it was as much a home as your house is to you.
“Yes, it would not be safe to stay while men are around,” said Mr. Bear. “That is the first time I have ever smelled them in our woods.[20] Though a friend of mine, Mr. Lion, who lives farther down the mountain, said he has often seen men near his cave. Once some men on elephants chased him, but he got away.”
“Have you ever seen a man?” asked Dido of his father.
“Oh, yes, often, but always afar off. And the men did not see me.”
“What does a man look like?” asked Dido, for he had never seen any, though he had heard of them.
“A man is a queer creature,” said Mr. Bear. “He walks up on his hind feet, as we do sometimes, but when he walks on his four feet he can only go slowly, like a baby. Even you could run away from a man on his four feet, Dido.”
“How queer!” said the little bear.
“But don’t try it,” said Mrs. Bear quickly. “Keep away from men, Dido, for they might shoot you with one of their guns.”
“What else is a man like?” the little bear asked.
“Well, he has a skin that he can take off and put on again,” said Mr. Bear.
“Oh, how very funny!” cried Dido. “Take off his skin? I should think it would hurt!”
“It doesn’t seem to,” said the papa bear. “I don’t understand how they do it, but they do.”
Of course what Mr. Bear thought was skin[21] was a man’s clothes, which he takes off and puts on again. But though bears are very wise and smart in their own way, they don’t know much about men, except to be afraid of them.
“I do not like it that men are coming up in our woods,” said Mr. Bear. “It means danger. So be careful, Dido, and you, too, Gruffo and Muffo, that you do not go too far away. Perhaps the man has come up here to set a trap to catch us.”
“What is a trap?” asked Dido.
“It is something dangerous, to catch bears,” his mother told him. “Some traps are made of iron, and they have sharp teeth in them that catch bears by the leg and hurt very much. Other traps are like a big box, made of logs. If you go in one of these box traps the door will shut and you can not get out.”
“What happens then?” asked Dido.
“Then the man comes and gets you.”
“And what does he do with you?” the little bear cub wanted to know.
“That I can not say,” answered Mrs. Bear. “Perhaps your father knows.”
Mr. Bear shook his head.
“All I know,” he answered, “is that the man takes you away if he finds you in his trap. But where he takes you I do not know, for I was never caught, and I hope I never will be.”
“I hope so, too,” said Dido, and he sniffed the air to see if he could smell the man, but he could not.
For a number of days after that the bears did not go far from their den in the rocks. They were afraid the man might shoot them.
But, after a while, all the berries and sweet roots close by had been eaten, and the bears had to go farther off. Besides, they wanted some fish, and they must go to the lake or river to catch them. So after Mr. Bear had carefully sniffed the air, and had not smelled the man-smell, the bears started off through the woods again to get something to eat.
Dido ran here and there, sometimes on ahead and again he would stay behind, slipping up back of his brothers to tickle them. Oh, but Dido was a jolly little bear, always looking for fun.
The bears found some more red berries, and a few blue ones, and some sweet roots, and they also caught some fish, which made a good dinner for them. Then they went swimming in the lake again before going back to their den.
In the afternoon, when Gruffo was asleep in the shade, Dido went softly up to him, and poured a paw full of water in his brother’s ear.
“Wuff! Ouch! What’s that? Is it raining?” cried Gruffo, suddenly waking up. Then he saw that Dido had played the trick on him, and he ran after the little bear. But Dido climbed up a tree to get away, and he did it in such a funny way, his little short tail going around like a Fourth of July pinwheel, that Gruffo had to sit down and laugh.
“Oh, you are such a funny cut-up bear!” he said, laughing harder than ever, and when a bear laughs he can’t very well climb a tree.
“Come on down, I won’t do anything to you,” said Gruffo, after a while, so Dido came down. Then he turned somersaults on a pile of soft leaves. Next he stood on his hind legs, and began striking at a swinging branch of a tree with his front paws, as you have seen a kitten play with a cord of a window curtain.
“Dido is getting to be a real cute little cub,” said Mrs. Bear.
Then, all of a sudden, Dido struck at the tree branch, but he did not hit it and he fell over backward.
“Look out!” cried Mr. Bear. “You’ll hurt yourself, Dido.”
“I didn’t hurt myself that time,” said the little bear, “for I fell on some soft, green moss.”
“Well, there will not always be moss for you to fall on,” his mother said. “So look out.”
One day, when Mr. Bear came back from a long trip in the woods, he brought some wild[25] honey in his paws. And oh! how good it tasted to Dido and Gruffo and Muffo!
“Show me where the bee-tree is, Papa,” begged Dido. “I want to get some more honey.”
“It is too far away,” answered the papa bear. “Besides, I saw a man in the woods as I was getting the honey out of a hollow tree. It would not be safe for you to go near it when men are around.”
But the honey tasted so good to Dido that the little bear cub made up his mind that he simply must have more.
“I know what I’ll do,” he said to himself. “When none of the others are watching me I am going off by myself in the woods and look for a bee-tree to get some honey. I don’t believe there’s any danger.”
So about a week after this, one day, Dido saw his two brothers asleep outside the den. Mr. Bear had gone off to the lake, perhaps to catch some fish, and Mrs. Bear was in the den, stirring up the leaves that made the bed, so it would be softer to lie on.
“Now’s my chance,” thought Dido, in the way bears have of thinking. “I’ll just slip off in the woods by myself, and find a honey-tree. I’ll bring some honey home, too,” said Dido, for he was not a selfish little bear.
Walking softly, so as not to awaken his brothers, and so his mother, making the leaf-bed in the den, would not know what he was doing, away slipped Dido to the woods.
He shuffled along, now and then finding some red berries to eat, or a bit of sweet root, and every little while he would lift his nose up in the air, as he had seen his father do, and sniff to see if he could smell a man-smell.
“But I don’t smell any,” said Dido. “I guess it’s all right.”
Then, all at once, he felt a little wind blowing toward him, and on the breeze came the nicest smell.
“Oh, it’s honey!” cried Dido. “It’s honey! I have found the honey-tree! Oh, how glad I am!”
He hurried on through the woods, coming nearer and nearer to the honey smell all the while, until, after a bit, he saw in among the trees something square, like a box, made of little logs piled together. And inside the thing like a box was a pile of honey. Dido could see it and smell it. But he did not rush up in a great hurry.
“That doesn’t look like the honey-tree father told about,” the little bear cub thought. “He said he had to climb a tree. This honey is low down. Still it is honey, so this must be a honey-tree,[27] and if it is low down so much the better for me. I will not have to climb.”
Dido sniffed the air again. He wanted to see if there was a man-smell about. But all he could smell was the honey.
“Oh, I guess it’s all right,” said the bear cub. “I’m so hungry for that honey I can’t wait! Here I go!”
Dido fairly ran into the box and began to eat the honey on the floor of it. But, no sooner had he taken a bite, than suddenly a queer thing happened.
Bang! went something behind Dido, and when he looked around he saw that the box was shut tight. A sliding door had fallen down and poor Dido was a prisoner.
For a moment Dido was so frightened that he did not know what to do. His heart beat very fast, just as you can feel your kittie’s heart beat fast after a dog has chased her. The little bear cub stopped eating the honey, good as it was, and he looked carefully around him.
“I wonder what has happened to me?” mused Dido.
He soon guessed. For when he tried to get out the same way he had come in, he found he could not. A heavy door of logs had fallen down, and push as hard as he could, Dido could not open it.
“Oh dear!” whined the little bear cub. “I guess I am in one of those traps papa told about. This must be a box trap. But how did the honey get here? That is caught, too.”
Thinking of the honey made Dido hungry for some more, so he ate a little.
Then Dido tried again to get out, scratching with his strong little claws on the log sides of the big box. But Dido could not get out that[29] way any more than he could break through the thick door. Soon the little bear cub was very much frightened, and he cared no more for the honey, though there was some left.
“Oh dear! Oh dear!” thought Dido. “I have done something very wrong. I ought not to have gone off in the woods by myself. Papa said there might be traps, but I did not think this was one. I did not sniff the man-smell, I only smelled the honey.”
Poor, foolish Dido! That was why the man who had set the trap had put the honey in it—so the bear, if one came along, would smell that sweet stuff and not notice the man-odor.
With his heart beating faster than ever, Dido now ran around all sides of the box-trap, trying to find a way out. But there was none. He could look through the cracks between the logs, and see the green woods where he had walked along so freely only a little while before. But now Dido could not get out to climb a tree or do anything else.
“Oh, what will happen to me?” he asked himself. “I must get out! I must get out!”
But Dido could not. He grew tired of running around the cage, and pushing on the sides and doors. His paws ached. His tongue was hanging out like a dog’s, and his breath came fast.
“I’ll lie down and rest,” said Dido. “Perhaps by then my papa or mamma will come and look for me and let me out.”
So Dido rested and then he ate a little more of the honey. It did not taste as nice now, for he was in trouble, and when even a bear is in trouble he can not eat well.
Dido waited and waited, but no papa or mamma bear came for him. It is true that Mr. Bear and Mrs. Bear soon missed their little cub, and they went looking for him, but I will tell you about that part later on.
All at once Dido, in the trap, heard the voices of some men talking. He knew they must be men, for he had heard his father tell about them. And Dido also noticed the man-smell coming to him through the cracks in the trap. He could smell that queer smell now, even though he was close to the honey.
“Ha!” cried one man. “The trap is closed! There must be a bear in it!”
“Don’t be too sure,” said another man. “Maybe he got out.”
“Oh dear, if I only could get out,” thought Dido, though he did not know what the men said. Later on he was to learn to know man-talk, though he could never speak it himself. Just as your dog knows what you say when you call him to come to you, or to run home, though[31] your dog can not speak to you, except by barking, which, I suppose, is a sort of dog language.
Anyhow, Dido heard the men talking, even if he did not know what they said. They hurried up to the trap, as Dido could see, and one looked in through a crack.
“We’ve caught a bear!” cried the first man. “We really have!”
“Have we?” asked the other. “That’s good.”
“But he’s an awful little one,” said the first man.
“Never mind, he’ll grow fast enough,” the second man said. “And they are easier to train to dance when they are little.”
“What funny things those men are saying,” thought Dido. “I wonder if they are talking about me? Maybe they will let me out.”
But the men did not seem to be going to do that. They walked all around the trap, looking carefully at it.
“He can’t get out,” said the big man, for Dido could see that one man was tall, and the other short, just as Dido’s father was larger than he. “He can’t get out of the trap,” said the big man, “and we can pick it up, with him in it, and carry it away. If we had caught a bigger bear we could not do that.”
“That honey you put in the trap made good bait,” said the short man.
“I thought it would,” replied the other. “Bears will go almost anywhere to get honey. And as soon as this one went in and began eating, he loosened the rope that held up the door, and it fell down. That’s how he was caught.”
Dido did not understand all this talk, but he wished, with all his heart, that he had not gone in to eat the honey.
“Come on,” said the big man, “we’ll carry the cage-trap out to the road and put it on the wagon. Then, in a few days, I will begin to teach this bear to dance.”
Dido ran around in the cage or trap once more, trying to get out, but he could not. And the next thing he knew he felt himself being lifted up and carried along. This frightened him more than ever, but there was nothing he could do, for he could not get out. He could smell the man-smell very plainly now, for the men were walking along close to the trap, carrying it.
Pretty soon Dido could see, through the cracks, that the woods were not as thick as they had been. He was being taken away from his beloved forest where he had lived all his short life. He was being taken away from the den-house, and from his father and mother and brothers.
And, even though Dido was only a bear he[33] felt badly, as all animals do when they are taken to a new and strange place.
“If ever I get out of this trap,” thought Dido, “I’ll bite and scratch those men until they let me go.”
Biting and scratching comes natural to bears, as it does to some cats, you know, and you could hardly find fault with Dido for wanting to get loose. He did not learn, until afterward, that the men were going to be kind to him.
Pretty soon Dido felt his trap being lifted up. Then it was set down on a wagon, and horses began to draw it down the mountain to the place where the trappers lived. For the two men were trappers, and they set traps in the woods to catch wild animals, which they trained to do tricks and sold to circuses, or to persons who wanted them. Dido did not learn until afterward what horses were, but he knew they must be strong animals to pull a heavy wagon and the two men and himself in the log-trap.
How long he rode on the wagon Dido did not know, but after a while he felt himself being lifted up again and he was carried into a queer place. Though the little bear cub did not know what it was he found out later that it was a barn. It was dark in there, almost as dark as in the woods at night, but Dido was not afraid of the dark. He rather liked it.
“Are you going to take the little bear out of the trap?” asked the little man.
“Not right away,” answered the big man. “I will first let him get quiet. I want to tame him a bit so he will not bite. I won’t give him anything to eat or drink for a long while, and then he will be so hungry and thirsty that he will not be afraid when I come near to give him something.”
And that is just what happened to Dido. The sweet honey had made him thirsty, and he was very warm from having tried so hard to get out of the trap. Oh! how he wanted a drink of water from the cool, blue lake! But there was no water in the cage-trap.
Finally Dido fell asleep. When he opened his eyes again he could see a little light shining through the chinks of the trap. Then he smelled the man-smell again, and he heard the big man say:
“Well, I wonder how my little bear is to-day?”
Dido growled, as all wild bears do when first they know a man is near them.
“Not very tame yet, I guess,” the man said. “But you soon will be, when you get hungrier and more thirsty.”
Dido thought he never had been so thirsty. His mouth was hot, and his tongue was dry.[35] That was worse than being hungry. All day long he had no water, though he whined for it as he had whined when he was a little baby bear and wanted his mother to feed him.
On the second day the big man opened a little hole in the trap. Dido quickly put out his head—that was all he could put out. The man reached his hand toward Dido, who growled good and hard.
“Quiet now! Quiet!” said the man. “I won’t hurt you. Here is some water for you to drink.” He put down a basin of water where Dido could reach it, and the smell of that water was so good to Dido that he drank it even while the man was standing near. And as the bear drank the man patted him on the head and spoke softly to him. This time Dido did not growl, for he liked to be petted. But, best of all, he liked the water.
Then the hole in the cage was closed again, and Dido was left alone. He was getting quite hungry now, but there was nothing to eat. He had eaten all the honey, and licked clean the boards where it had been.
“Oh, how I wish I had some red berries or sweet roots,” thought the little bear cub. And just then he smelled something that made his nose quiver. It was fish.
“Oh, I wonder if my father has come for me[36] and brought me a fish from the blue lake?” Dido asked himself.
But when the little hole in the trap was opened Dido saw the big man. Dido growled, and then he was sorry, for he saw the man holding out a piece of fish to him.
“I guess you’ll soon be tame,” said the man. “Come now, be a nice bear.” Then Dido ate the fish, and had more water to drink.
For nearly a week Dido was kept in the cage. Each day the man came to feed and water him, and the man always patted the bear cub on the head and spoke kindly to him. After a while Dido did not mind the man-smell at all. He got rather to like it, and to like the man who fed him. So that, in a few days, when the man opened the big door of the trap, and let Dido come out, the bear cub did not try to run away.
For he saw no place to which he could run. There were no woods, just a big barn, the doors of which were closed. Besides, Dido thought if he ran away he would get no more fish or water.
“Now I’ll put a collar on you, with a chain, so you won’t get lost, and then I’ll begin to train you to dance,” said the big man.
Dido felt something being fastened around his neck. He did not mind very much, for, at the same time, the man gave him something new to[37] eat. It was soft and white and tasted rather sweet, though not as sweet as honey.
“Oh, but that is good!” thought Dido. The man had given him a chunk of bread, which bears like very much. When he had eaten the bread Dido looked around for more, and he took another piece from the man’s hand, and did not growl or bite. Dido was getting tame, you see.
“You are a very nice, good, little bear, and I think you will soon learn to dance,” said the man as he rubbed Dido on the head, and gave him some water to drink, after Dido had eaten the bread. “Yes, I must soon start teaching you to dance.”
Of course Dido did not understand this talk—that is not all of it, but he knew the man was speaking kindly to him, for he could tell by the way his voice sounded. Just as your dog can tell when you speak kindly to him, or when you are cross. If you speak nicely to your dog, and call him a good fellow, he will wag his tail, to show how glad he is. But when you are cross—Oh! how the dog’s tail drops down between his legs, and how sadly he looks up at you.
Of course Dido was not quite as tame as a dog, but he was beginning to learn that the man would not hurt him, and that he would be kind to him. So Dido thought he would be good himself, and not growl, bite or scratch.
For two or three days more Dido was kept in the barn, being chained to a post, with a leather[39] collar around his neck. Dido did not like this collar. He had never worn one before, and did not know what it was. In the woods bears never wear collars, any more than they do neckties. Of course, in a circus, a keeper, or trainer, might dress up a bear in real clothes, with a collar and tie, just for fun.
Dido did not like the collar around his neck, and he pawed and scratched, trying to get it off. It was fastened on too snugly, however, and would not come loose.
“Let it alone, Dido,” said the man who was to be the little bear cub’s keeper. “The collar will not hurt you, and I must keep it on so I can lead you around by a chain, or rope, when we go traveling, and you show the people how well you can dance.”
Dido did not understand all this talk, but when he found he could not get the collar off he stopped trying to loosen it. And he very soon found that, though it felt queer at first, it did not hurt him, just as the man had said.
Every day Dido was given nice things to eat—big chunks of bread, sometimes a bit of fish, and once he had a sweet bun with currants on top. Oh! that was very good!
“Well, it isn’t so bad being caught in a trap,” thought Dido, after a bit. “I have better things to eat here than I did in the den at home, and I[40] do not have to go after them. The man brings them to me. I guess men are not as bad as my papa and mamma thought.”
Of course Dido’s keeper was good to him, for the man wanted to train the little bear to dance, and you can not make wild animals learn anything except by being kind to them. But I suppose all men might not have been as good as the one who had caught Dido, so I guess the papa and mamma bear were right in being afraid of men, and in teaching their children bears to beware of the man-smell.
“Yes, I like it here very much,” thought Dido, as he walked around in the barn as far as his chain would let him, and ate a bit of sweet cracker which the man threw to him. “But I would like a swim in the cold blue lake.”
Then he remembered his brothers, Gruffo and Muffo, and Dido was lonesome and homesick. He wished very much that he might go back to the woods again, and run about under the trees, and perhaps find a honey-tree. If Dido had been a boy or girl I suppose he would have cried, but bears do not know how to do that, which, perhaps, is just as well. But, at any rate, Dido was lonesome, and most especially for the blue lake, for he did want to swim so he might make himself nice and clean.
And then, one day, Dido saw the big man and[41] the little man bringing in the barn a big tub. This they filled with water.
“Ha! Now the little bear can have a swim,” said the big man. “Jump in, Dido, and have a bath.”
Dido smelled the water. He lapped up some with his red tongue, and, though it was not quite as nice as the water of the blue lake high up in the mountains, still it was very good.
“Wuff!” cried Dido, which was his way of saying “Fine!” and then into the tub of water he jumped with a splash. Oh! how good it felt to be washed!
“Now come out in the sun and dry yourself,” said the big man, and he led Dido out of the barn by the chain. It was the first time Dido had been out in the open air since he had been caught. He could feel the warm wind blowing on him, he could see the sun and the green trees, for there were trees near the trainer’s barn, though not so many as in the woods.
Dido felt so jolly at being out in the air that he almost thought he was back in his own forest again, and as he remembered Gruffo and Muffo, and his father and mother, he wanted so much to see them that he started to run.
“Oh, ho! You mustn’t do that!” said the big man, kindly. “I don’t want you to run away from me!”
And Dido could not run away, for he was held fast by the collar about his neck and the chain fastened to the collar. Dido ran as far as the chain would let him, and then he came to such a sudden stop that he turned a somersault, head over heels, as he used to do in front of the rocky den, when his mother would laugh at him.
The man had fastened the chain to a post in the barnyard and Dido could not get away. He felt a little choked and out of breath as he got up from having turned the somersault, and he looked at the man in a queer way, with his eyes partly shut.
“There, you see,” spoke the keeper. “You can’t get away, Dido, and you might as well learn that first as last. I don’t want you to go away, and I will be kind and good to you. I will feed you all you want to eat, and you will have a nice place to sleep—just as nice as you had in the woods. And when you learn to dance you and I will travel all around the country, and the people will give me pennies to see you do your tricks. So be a good little bear, and do not try to run away.”
Dido, even yet, did not know all the man said, of course, but the little bear cub found he could not get away, so he sat down and looked around. It was good to be out of doors, anyhow. Then the man moved a sort of little house, like a dog kennel, up near Dido. This was for the bear to sleep in nights, or go in out of the rain. The little house was in the shade, but Dido’s chain was long enough so he could walk over in the sun to get dry after his bath.
“Yes, I think I shall like it here,” said Dido to himself, in the way bears have of talking. “I used to have lots of fun with my brothers in the woods, but we never had as many nice things to eat as I have here, and I have a little house all my own. Yes, I think I shall like it here, and I will not run away from the man.”
Dido was getting very tame, you see.
Dido had been living out of doors for about a week, chained to a post, going in his little house nights, and in that time several other men came to look at him. They talked with Dido’s keeper, and one man told about a big bear he had caught in the woods.
“My! I wonder if that could be my father or mother?” thought Dido, who, by this time, could understand man-talk a little better. But there was no way of knowing whether or not it was his father or mother who had been caught.
One day Dido’s master brought out some sweet buns, and said:
“Now I think it is time you learned to dance. Come, Dido, let me see if you know how. When[45] I blow a tune on my horn lift up your paws and dance around. Come now!”
The man loosed Dido’s chain from the post, and led the little bear cub out into a nice grassy place, where the sun shone through the trees. Then the keeper put a horn to his lips and blew a jolly tune on it. At first Dido was a bit frightened at the music, but soon he found it was not going to hurt him, and then he rather liked it. Nearly all animals like music, though the way some dogs howl when you blow on a mouth organ, or play a fiddle, is queer, I think. Perhaps the dogs think they are singing.
Anyhow, Dido liked the horn-music which the man blew, but still Dido did not know anything about dancing, although he stood up on his hind legs.
“But I will teach you,” said the man.
He tied one string on Dido’s left hind leg, and another string on his right leg. Then the man called to two boys to help him.
“Now when I blow the horn,” said the man, “first pull on one string and then on the other. That will pull Dido’s legs a little, and soon he will know that he must lift them up, first one, then the other. And pretty soon he will learn to do it without any strings—just by hearing the music.”
The man again blew on his horn, but Dido[46] did not dance. Then the little bear cub felt a pull on his left hind leg, as he was standing up straight, for he did not have to be taught to do this. And of course when Dido felt the pull on his leg he lifted it up.
“That’s the way!” cried the man, and he tooted a merry tune. “Now pull the other string, boy!”
The boy did, and Dido lifted up his other leg. Then came a pull on the one he had lifted before, and soon Dido was lifting first one hind leg, and then the other, going around in a circle as the man gently pulled him by the chain fastened to the collar.
All this while the man played music on the horn, and Dido liked it more and more. Soon he noticed that as the music went fast he was lifting his legs more quickly, and when the music played slowly his legs went slowly, too, the boys pulling the strings that way.
“He will learn to dance in a little while,” said the keeper.
For about an hour Dido had to lift first one foot then the other as the strings were pulled and the music played. Then he was allowed to rest and given a lump of sugar.
“Oh! how good that is!” thought Dido. “It is almost as nice as honey!”
The next day Dido practiced his dancing[47] again, with the strings on his legs. But this time he did better. And, at the end of his lesson, he was given more sugar. Soon Dido learned to know that when the horn played and his keeper cried “Dance!” that he must get up on his hind legs and circle around, lifting first one foot and then the other. And each time he danced Dido was given a lump of sugar.
And, finally, one day the man did not put the strings to Dido’s legs. He just led the little bear out by the chain, and blew the horn.
“Dance, Dido! Dance!” cried the man, playing jolly music.
And Dido danced, all by himself, and he liked it, too, for the music seemed to make him happy.
“Ah!” cried the man, “my little bear has learned to dance! Soon we will go traveling over the world together.”
Every day, and sometimes two and three times a day, Dido’s keeper would come out to him with the horn, and make the little bear dance. And sometimes Dido grew tired. Then the man would give him a sweet bun, or a lump of sugar, and Dido could rest in the shade, or take a nice bath in the tub of water.
Dido was growing to like to dance, for it was something like the tricks he and his brothers used to do in the woods, though they never called it dancing. They would find a loose, dangling branch of a tree and stand up on their hind legs to knock it about with their front paws. And sometimes when the branch would sway to and fro the bear cubs would have to jump quickly about to reach it. And that, in a way, was something like dancing.
So, after all, dancing is not so very hard for a bear to learn. They seem to like it, and Dido certainly liked the good things he had to eat after each lesson. So now, whenever he heard the man play a tune on the shiny brass horn, Dido would stand up and dance.
“I think it is time you learned other tricks,” the man said one day. “I must teach you how to climb a tree and how to stand on your head, how to turn somersaults, and how to play soldier. But you can not learn all of them at once. We will begin on climbing a tree, for that will be easy for you.”
Of course the man knew Dido could climb a tree, as all bears can do that just as cats can. Their claws are sharp, though not quite as sharp as are pussies’, and they can stick in the soft bark of a tree. Dogs’ claws are not sharp, so that is why they can not climb trees.
“Come, Dido, go up in the tree,” said the keeper one day, as he fastened a longer chain on the bear’s collar. “Go up in the tree,” and he led Dido to one.
But Dido did not climb up. He would have done so if he had known what the man wanted, but Dido did not know just what the words meant. He saw the tree, and he knew he could climb it, as he had often done in the woods at home, but just then he did not feel like climbing a tree. Perhaps he thought his chain was too short, and he might get a pull that would make him fall.
“Ah, I shall have to give you a little lesson,” said the man. “Here, boy!” he called, and a boy came with a big sweet bun, which he put on a[50] high branch of the tree, climbing up a ladder to do it.
“Now, Dido, go get the bun! Go up in the tree and get the bun,” called the man. Dido could smell the bun, for he had a very sharp nose. And he wanted the bun so much, the little bear cub did, that he climbed right up the tree and got it.
“Ha!” cried the man. “That’s the way to do it! I knew you could climb a tree, but you must do it when I tell you to, so as not to keep the people waiting when we begin our travels, and go all over the world. You will not find a bun up a tree every time I ask you to climb it, Dido,” said the bear’s keeper, “but I will always give you a treat when you have finished your tricks. Now come down, Dido!”
But Dido sat on the limb of the tree, eating the bun. It tasted so good he did not want to come down until he had finished it. Then he felt a pull on the chain that was fast to his collar.
“Come down, Dido! Come down!” called the man, and he pulled so hard on the chain that Dido nearly fell. Then the bear knew what was wanted of him, and down he climbed. But he had eaten the bun.
“Now we must do it again,” the keeper said. “Boy, put another bun up in the tree for Dido.”
So the boy did, and Dido climbed up and got that bun. Each time the man played a tune on the shiny brass horn, and it was a different tune from the one he played for Dido to dance. And, in a little while, Dido learned to climb up the tree whenever he heard this tune, and when the man told him to go up, whether there was a bun in the tree or not.
You see Dido did not have to learn how to climb a tree, for he knew that already. What he had to learn was to do it when the man wanted him to, and soon he did.
Dido could now do two tricks, if you call climbing a tree a trick. Dancing, I think, might really be called a trick for a bear, though men and women, as well as boys and girls, dance and do not think it a trick at all—that is, unless they are learning some new, fancy steps.
“Dido, you are a good little bear,” said the man, as the little cub came down out of the tree after having climbed up. “I wonder if you will learn to march like a soldier, and turn a somersault as easily as you learned to dance and climb a tree?”
Had the man only known it, Dido did not have to be taught to turn somersaults, for the little cub had often done this in the woods. But what Dido did have to learn was to turn a somersault when the man told him to.
It took a little longer for Dido to learn these two new tricks—marching like a soldier, and turning head over heels. But finally he did. His keeper was good and kind, and gave him nice things to eat, and Dido did his best to please the man.
At last came the day when Dido could take a stick in his paws, hold it straight up in the air, or over his shoulder, as a soldier holds his gun, and walk around while the man played a marching tune on the shiny brass horn.
Then the little bear cub learned to turn somersaults, or, rather, he learned to do it whenever the man asked him to, and when the man played a certain tune on the horn. But Dido could not stand on his head. The man tried to get him to do this, but Dido’s hind legs were so heavy that whenever he stood on his head, with his front feet down on the ground, he would fall over in a heap.
“I guess we won’t try that trick,” the man said. “It is too hard for you, Dido. We will make up an easier one.”
Dido could now dance, turn somersaults, march like a soldier, and climb a tree or a telegraph pole. Only there were no telegraph poles in the mountains, though soon Dido was to see some.
Four tricks are quite a number for a little bear cub to do, I think, even though some of them were easy.
“We must now begin to think of traveling,” said the man one day. “Yes, Dido, we will soon start on our travel around the world, over to a new country called the United States of America. That is a new country for me, and it will be a new one for you. The people over there have lots of money, and they will give me pennies when you do your tricks. With the pennies I can buy things to eat for me and for you. Yes, soon we shall sail over the ocean in a big ship and go to America.”
Of course Dido did not know what all this talk meant, but he saw his master smiling, and the man seemed happy, so Dido was glad, for the keeper was kind to him.
A few days after this Dido’s keeper gave him a nice dinner of bread, fish and sweet buns. Dido saw that the man had a big bundle strapped over his back, while on one shoulder was the shiny tooting horn. In one hand the man had a long stick, with which Dido marched when he did his shoulder trick.
“Come, Dido!” called the man, “we are now going to start on our travels. We will march through my country until we come to the ocean,[54] and there we will take a ship. And on the way you shall do your tricks, and the people will give us money so we can buy things to eat.”
So Dido and his master started down the mountain. At first the bear cub, who had grown much larger, felt sad at going away from the woods where he had always lived. He could look back and see them and he knew the blue lake was there, and perhaps his brothers and father and mother were swimming in it.
“Oh, I wonder if I will ever see them again?” thought Dido.
He never did, but then Dido had so many adventures, and saw so many new and strange sights, that he soon forgot all about his bear-folks. That’s the way it is with wild animals, you know. And I must tell you that Dido’s father and mother, and his brothers Gruffo and Muffo, tried very hard to find him.
They went looking for him that same day Dido went off to search for the honey-tree. But all Mr. Bear could find was the place where the trap had been set, with the honey in it.
“I guess poor Dido is gone,” said Mr. Bear to his wife.
“Oh dear!” cried Dido’s mother. “Do you think a man will eat him?”
“Let us hope not,” said Mr. Bear. “Dido was caught in a trap. Well, I told him to be[55] careful of them, but he did not mind. It is too late now. Perhaps he is happier where he is.”
And Dido was quite happy. His father and mother, soon after that, had to find another den to live in, because the animal trappers began searching through the mountains for wild creatures, and in a little while Dido was forgotten by his folks, who had troubles of their own to keep away from the hunters.
Down the mountain went Dido and his keeper. Soon they came to a little town, or village. Dido did not know what it was, but he saw many houses, which were larger than the den he had lived in among the rocks, and he saw many men, like his kind keeper, and women and boys and girls.
When Dido’s keeper led him through the village streets the boys and girls crowded about to see the bear.
“Now, Dido,” said the man, “you shall dance for them.”
Then the man played a tooting tune on his horn and Dido danced as he had been taught to do. Around and around he went, first lifting up one foot, then the other, the horn playing all the while.
“Good, Dido! Good!” said the man.
The children clapped their hands and[56] laughed, and the older folks tossed money into the hat of the keeper as he passed it around.
“Now march like a soldier!” said the man, and Dido did. Then the bear climbed a tree, and turned a somersault, and the children laughed louder than before, and clapped their hands harder.
“What a funny dancing bear!” cried a little girl.
“I wish we had him for a pet,” said a little boy.
“Ah, ha! I cannot give away my dancing bear,” said the man. “He and I are going to a far country.”
For many days Dido traveled with the man, walking from town to town, sometimes to big cities. At night the man would take a blanket from the bundle on his back, roll himself up in it and go to sleep under a haystack or a bush. He would tie Dido to a tree, and the bear would go to sleep, too. Only Dido did not have to wrap himself up in a blanket, as he had a big, thick warm overcoat of fur. This was in the summer time, when it was not too cold for the man to sleep out of doors.
With the money which the people tossed into the hat after they had watched the dancing bear, the man would buy things to eat for himself and[57] for Dido. And thus they traveled on and on until finally they came to the seashore.
“Now we will take a ship and go across the ocean,” said the man.
Dido did not know what the ocean was, but he saw a lot of water, much more than was in the blue mountain lake. But it was not the same kind. For, when Dido lapped up some with his red tongue, the water was salty.
“Wuff! I do not like that water!” said Dido to himself.
Dido’s master led him through a long shed and up on the ship. Of course Dido did not know what a ship was, but soon he found himself in a little room with his keeper and he knew it was all right. So Dido went to sleep.
When he awakened he felt himself swaying up and down as he had often swayed when in the top of a tree.
“This is queer,” thought Dido. “I am not in a tree, but I am going up and down. What makes it?”
It was a ship, you see, tossing on the ocean waves. In about a week Dido and his master had crossed the ocean and were in America. The ship reached the big city of New York, and Dido was ready for many new adventures.
New York is a big city, and it is not a place where bears live, except in Central Park, or Bronx Park, where there are many wild animals in cages or dens. And it was to New York that Dido had come with his keeper.
On the ship Dido had had some adventures, and I wish I had space enough in this book to tell you about what happened to him. But I think, perhaps, you would rather hear about Dido’s adventures as he traveled about the country and cities, dancing, turning somersaults, and climbing trees and telegraph poles.
So I will just say that on the ship Dido did a few tricks for the passengers on deck when the weather was fine. When it was stormy Dido and his keeper had to stay down in their room. And Dido had all he wanted to eat.
For there were on that ship many children, and when they heard that Dido, the dancing bear, was also a passenger they gave him some of their buns, apples and other good things. So Dido had a happy time.
Once there was a big storm, and the ship almost turned a somersault, as Dido himself had done in the woods. But the storm passed, the sun came out, and the ocean grew quiet. Then Dido felt better.
Now he was in New York with his keeper. As I have told you, a big city is not a good place for a bear to live. Of course there is enough for him to eat, if he can get it, but there are not many trees, except in the streets, and policemen don’t like to see bears climbing the city trees. And in a city there are no lakes of blue water, in which bears may swim.
But Dido’s master took him to a stable where there were many horses, and here Dido felt quite at home, though at first the horses were frightened when they smelled the bear. For horses smell in much the same way as do bears. If you have ever held out an apple, or a lump of sugar, to a horse you have seen him smell it before he tasted it. All animals do this. They can often smell better than they can see, and they tell, in that way, whether a thing is good for them to eat. So when the horses smelled Dido, the dancing bear, they were a bit frightened, as they were not used to wild animals, and they thought Dido was wild. But when they saw him do some of his tricks, which he did for practice in the barn, the horses were afraid no more.
“We will stay in this stable a little while,” said Dido’s master to him, “and then we will go out in the country, and people will give us money when you dance.”
One day Dido’s keeper went out and stayed a long time. When he came back he was very happy.
“Ah, Dido!” cried the man, “we are going to a circus. You are going to do some tricks there. We shall have a good time, and I will get money to buy buns for you. After the circus we will go out in the nice country, where the trees grow as they do on the mountain where I caught you.”
Dido did not know what a circus was, but he soon found out.
In New York City is a place called Madison Square Garden. It is a big building, and on top of the tower, where the pigeons live, is a statue of a golden lady, with a bow and arrow. The lady is named Diana, and, many, many years ago, she used to hunt wild animals in the woods of her country. Perhaps that is why they have the circus in Madison Square Garden.
A circus there is not like one in a tent. All the animals and all the performers are in one big building. The animals are mostly down in the basement, as they call it.
And it was there that Dido was taken by his[61] keeper. The dancing bear rode in a big express wagon, just as he had ridden down the mountain after he had been caught in the trap-cage. Only this time Dido was not afraid, as his kind keeper was with him to pat him on the head and give him sweet buns.
Dido was taken into Madison Square Garden, and as soon as he got inside he smelled the smell of many wild animals. He was not afraid, for he was used to that smell. He could tell there were other bears in the circus, and he saw them in cages, but none of them were let go about as was he.
And Dido saw camels, lions, tigers, monkeys, ponies, horses, and many other animals.
Dido’s master led him down where the animals were kept, and chained him to a post, with some water near by for him to drink, and some bread and buns to eat.
“I am going away for a little while, Dido,” the man said. “But I will soon be back. Then we will go up in the circus ring and you will do your tricks for the boys and girls. Be a good bear while I am away.”
Dido ate a bun, drank some water, and looked about him. Over in one corner the dancing bear saw a queer animal, who seemed to have two tails.
“I beg your pardon, but who are you?” asked Dido, in the sort of talk that all animals understand.
“Who am I?” asked the big animal who seemed to have two tails. “Why I am Tum Tum, the jolly elephant.”
“Tum Tum, eh?” exclaimed Dido. “That is a nice name, but you are a funny chap, with two tails.”
“Ah, that is where you make a mistake,” said Tum Tum, as he chewed a mouthful of hay. “I have only one tail. The other is my trunk that I lift things with. It is really only a long nose, for I breathe through it, but folks call it a trunk.”
“Ah, I see,” spoke Dido. “I am sorry I thought you had two tails.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” went on jolly Tum Tum. “Don thought the same thing when he first saw me.”
“Don? Who is Don?” asked Dido.
“Don is a runaway dog. That is, he once ran away,” explained the elephant, reaching for a peanut which a boy held out to him. “But Don is home now after his many adventures.”
“What are adventures?” asked Dido.
“Things that happen to you,” answered Tum Tum. “I had many adventures, and so did Don. A man wrote a book about each of us.”
“What is a book?” asked Dido.
“Oh, don’t ask me,” said Tum Tum. “All I know is that’s what they called it. A book is a queer thing. It is square, like a loaf of bread, but not so thick—at least the books about Don and me were not so thick. And inside the book are thin pieces of something they call pages, or leaves, though they are not green like the leaves of a tree. The leaves in the book are white and on them are funny black marks. And when boys and girls look at the funny black marks, which tell about Don and me, they laugh, those boys and girls do, for I have heard them say so when they come here to the circus to see me.”
“I wonder if my adventures will ever be put in a book?” asked Dido.
“Maybe so,” answered Tum Tum, the jolly elephant. “Have you had many things happen to you?”
“Oh, lots and lots!” cried the dancing bear. “I used to live in the woods, and I went in a box to get some honey and I found myself in a trap.”
“That was an adventure,” said Tum Tum, “so I think you will be put in a book.”
Dido was very glad to meet the jolly elephant, and the two talked together for some time. Then Tum Tum had to go up in the circus ring to do his tricks, and, a little later, Dido’s master came for him.
“Come, Dido,” said the man. “You are going to show the people what you can do. I want you to dance, to turn somersaults, and to march like a soldier.
“There are no trees for you to climb, but there is a big post in the circus ring, and you can climb that, I’m sure. I’ll give you a bun if you do.”
And Dido did climb the pole, and he did his other tricks, so that the people in the circus, especially the boys and girls, laughed and clapped their hands to see Dido, the dancing bear, and Tum Tum, the jolly elephant.
Then one day Dido’s keeper said to him:
“Come, Dido, the circus is going to move away from New York, so we will move, too. Only we will go out in the country by ourselves, and we will travel along so you can do your tricks, and I can gather the pennies in my hat.”
The next day Dido and his keeper rode out in the country in a railroad train. Dido slept in a corner of a baggage car, where the trunks were. He liked the train better than the ocean ship, for it did not go up and down so much, though it moved faster.
“Ah, here we are in the country!” cried Dido’s keeper, as he led him out of the car.
“And now, I suppose,” thought Dido, “I will have some more adventures, and they may be put into a book, as Tum Tum’s were.”
Dido, the dancing bear, looked about him as he stepped down out of the railroad car. The train had stopped at a small country station, and when some men and boys, who were waiting on the platform, saw the bear they crowded up close to have a better look at him.
“Say, he’s a big fellow!” said one boy, not coming too close.
“Will he bite?” asked another.
“No, Dido is a good bear. He will not bite,” the keeper answered. “He can do many tricks.”
Dido felt proud and happy when he heard this, for he was now able to understand much that his master said. And Dido was really growing to be a big bear. He was not a little bear cub any longer, but quite fat. For he had good things to eat, and he did not have to travel over the mountain to get them.
“Please make your bear do some tricks,” said a man to the keeper, whose name, I have forgotten to tell you, was George. “Make the bear do some funny tricks.”
“Will you give me pennies if I do?” George asked. “I need the pennies to buy things for Dido and me to eat.”
“Go ahead and have the bear do tricks, and we’ll give you pennies,” another man said with a smile.
So George, the dancing bear’s trainer, led Dido back of the railroad station, where there was a nice, shady, grassy spot. Dido looked all around and he saw that they were indeed in the country. There were only a few houses here and there, and afar off he could see woods and mountains, almost like those in his own land. Dido sniffed the air. It was pure and sweet, much nicer than the air in New York, or in any city, Dido thought.
“I am going to like it in the country, I’m sure,” said the bear to himself. “But I wish my adventures would begin so they could be put in a book. I wonder who will do it?”
Of course Dido had had some adventures, though perhaps he did not know it, and he was going to have more, and I have put them in this book, though I don’t believe Dido knows me. I have often seen him, however, and fed him buns.
“Come now, Dido, get ready to do some tricks!” called George. “You are going to dance for the people. Dance nice now!”
Then the man played a tooting tune on his brass horn.
“Toodle-de-doodle-de-do!” played the man, and when Dido heard that music he knew it was the kind to which he danced. So he stood up on his hind legs, held his fore paws limply out in front of him, and began to lift first one foot and then the other, going around and around, just like a person waltzing.
“That’s it, Dido! That’s the way to do it!” cried his keeper. “Dance for the people!” And he played a faster tune on the brass horn, so that Dido got quite dizzy from going around so fast. But the man did not make him do this very long.
“Good! Good!” cried the people who stood in a ring around Dido as he danced. “That was fine!”
“Did you like it?” asked George. “I am glad, and Dido is glad, too; aren’t you, Dido?” and reaching in the bag which he carried over his shoulder the man gave Dido a sweet bun.
Dido was glad to get that, whether or not he was glad to dance. But I think he liked dancing, too, for bears seem to be fond of going about doing their little tricks.
“Can your bear do anything else?” asked a lady in the crowd.
“Many more things,” answered George. “He will now play he is a soldier. Hi, Dido![69] March like a soldier! Here is your gun!” and he tossed Dido the stick which was carried along, just to be used in this trick.
Dido stood up as straight as he could, and held the stick in his paw, up over his shoulder.
“Good, Dido!” cried George. “Now what do you do when you meet an officer?”
Dido raised his other paw and touched his head, making what is called a salute, which soldiers always give their officers when they meet.
“Now march, Dido!” cried George, and as he played a marching tune on the brass horn Dido marched around, carrying the stick for a gun.
The people clapped their hands at that, and when the keeper passed around his hat many cents and some dimes jingled into it, to buy more buns for Dido, and other things for the keeper to eat.
“Make him do some more tricks, please,” begged a boy in the crowd. “I have another penny.”
“Ha! Very good!” cried George. “Dido, shall we do some more tricks for the little boy who has a penny?” Then George made believe whisper that question in Dido’s ear, and next the man pretended to put his ear down to Dido’s mouth as if to listen for an answer.
“Yes, Dido says he will do another trick for you,” said the man, laughing.
Of course Dido did not really speak to his trainer, for though a bear, a dog or other animals can understand much that is said to them they can not answer back. But the man just pretended Dido did answer so as to make a little fun, and the people laughed.
“Now, Dido, do your somersault trick,” said George. “All ready!”
He blew a sharp blast on the horn, and Dido leaned down, put his head on the ground, kicked his hind legs up in the air, and over he went, turning a somersault just as some fat little boy might do it on the soft, green grass.
“Another, Dido! Turn another somersault!” cried George, and over went Dido again, while the people laughed. Then Dido stood up straight once more, and saluted like a soldier.
“Did you like that trick, little boy?” asked George.
“Very much,” the little boy answered. “And here is my penny,” and he tossed it into the man’s hat.
“Now for a last trick, and then we will travel on farther into the country,” said Dido’s master. “Do the tree-climbing trick, Dido. Only instead of a tree you will climb a telegraph pole.”
There was a pole near the railroad depot, and soon Dido was going up this, sticking his sharp claws in the wood. Up and up he went, nearly[71] to the top, as far as his chain would let him, the man holding the end of it.
“That’s far enough—come on down, Dido!” called the man, and Dido came down. He was given another bun to eat, and after this he drank some water from a fountain near the depot.
Dido and George traveled on into the green country. A few boys followed them a little way, for some of them had never seen a bear before. But soon the boys grew tired, and Dido and his master were left to themselves.
“We will go to a quiet place in the woods and sleep,” said George, and Dido was glad of this, for he wanted to cool off and get quiet after his ride in the train and doing his tricks.
In the afternoon, when they had had a good sleep, the dancing bear and his keeper traveled on again. Soon they came to another town, and there Dido did his tricks over once more, and the man gathered money in his hat. And here Dido’s master met a man from his own country, far over the sea. The two men were glad to see one another, and talked much in their own language.
“Will you not come along with Dido and me?” asked George of this man, whose name was Tom. “We can travel together, and you can blow the horn while I make Dido do tricks. Come, travel about the country with us.”
“Yes, I will do that,” Tom said, and so all three started off together. Dido liked Tom very much, for Tom gave the dancing bear some sweet popcorn balls, of which Dido was very fond.
For a week or more Dido traveled about with George and Tom, doing tricks, sometimes in little country towns, and again in cities. And one day, when they were out in the country, Dido had a little adventure.
They were marching along the road, when Dido saw, coming toward them an automobile, with a man on the front seat steering, while in back were a boy and a girl, and two dogs.
All at once there was a loud banging noise, like a gun. But it was not a gun. One of the automobile tires had burst. Then the man jumped out to fix a new tire on the wheels, and the boy and girl, with the two dogs, got out to rest in the shade.
Tom blew a little music on the horn, and this made the boy and girl look down the road.
“Oh, look!” cried the girl, whose name was Alice. “What is that? A bear! I’m afraid!”
“Don’t be afraid,” said the boy, whose name was Bob. “It is only a tame, trained bear.”
The two dogs barked at the bear, and then Dido, who, with the two men, had come closer to the automobile, said:
“Don’t be afraid of me, doggies. I won’t hurt any one. I am only going to do some tricks.”
“Can your bear do tricks?” asked the boy of George.
“He surely can,” answered Dido’s keeper, and Dido turned somersaults, marched around like a soldier, and climbed a telegraph pole.
“It certainly is a good trick,” said one dog. “I can do some myself, but I can’t climb telegraph poles. What is your name, dancing bear?” he asked.
“My name is Dido. What’s yours?”
“My name is Don,” said the dog, “and this is my friend Rex,” and he waved his tail at the other dog.
“What! Is your name Don?” cried Dido in surprise. “Why I have heard about you!”
“Who from?” asked Don.
“From Tum Tum.”
“What! That jolly elephant in the circus?” asked Don, himself quite excited now.
“That’s the one,” answered Dido. “I was in the circus a little while when it showed in Madison Square Garden, in New York, and there I met Tum Tum. He spoke about you, and said you had had many adventures.”
“So I have,” Don said. “I am a runaway dog, that is, I once was, and there is a book telling all about me,” he added, proudly.
“See how friendly our dogs are with the dancing bear,” said Alice, the girl, to Bob, the boy.
“Our bear is very good and tame, and he likes good dogs,” spoke George.
“Where did you get him?” asked the boy, for the automobile tire was not yet fixed, and they still had to wait beside the country road.
“I caught Dido on top of a mountain, in the woods, in a far country,” said the man. “I put some honey in a box and when he went in to get it the door fell shut and he could not get out. Then I trained him, and brought him to this country. He was a little fellow then, and he used to growl at me, but now he likes me, I think, for I try to be kind to him.”
“Yes, I do like you,” said Dido to himself. “He is good to me,” he added, speaking to the two dogs.
For though Dido, Don and Rex could understand most of the talk that went on, they themselves could not speak to the men, or to the boy[75] or girl. Then the man told the boy and girl how Dido had learned to dance, just as I have told you in the first part of this book.
“Did it all happen that way?” asked Don, of Dido, for the dogs and bear were resting in the shade now.
“That’s just the way it happened,” Dido said. “I lived in the woods with my father and mother, and my brothers Gruffo and Muffo. But I like it here now better than in the woods.”
“And how is Tum Tum, the jolly elephant?” asked Don.
“Very well,” answered Dido, “and as fond of peanuts as ever.”
“Yes, he always did like them,” barked Don, “but, as for me, I never could see much in them. The shells get in my teeth.”
“Tum Tum eats them, shells and all,” Dido said.
“Well, remember me to him when next you see him,” went on the dog who had once run away. “Tell him I would like to see him again.”
“I shall,” Dido promised, “though I don’t know when I may meet him again. He is in the circus, you know, and I am traveling about the country. Still I may see him.”
By this time the automobile tire was mended and the man called to the boy and girl to get in.
“That means we shall have to go also,” said Don. “Well, good-by, Dido. I am glad to have met you.”
“And so am I,” said Rex, the other dog. Then they rubbed noses together, which is a sort of way animals have of shaking hands, I suppose; and then they parted.
“Don’t forget to tell Tum Tum what I told you!” barked Don, with a wag of his tail, as he jumped up with the boy and girl.
“I’ll not,” promised Dido, waving his paw at the two dogs.
Then the automobile puffed away and Tom and George led Dido down the country road, now and then stopping in front of a house to blow a tune on the brass horn, so Dido could do his tricks.
That night it rained, so the two men with the dancing bear could not sleep out in the woods. They looked around until they found a barn, and they asked the farmer if they might sleep in that.
“If you will kindly let us,” said George, “we will make our bear do tricks for you, and you will not need to give us any money in the hat.”
“Very well,” the farmer said; “you and Dido may sleep on the hay in my barn. And I will give you something to eat, though I do not know what bears like.”
“He likes buns especially,” said George, “and I have none for him in my bag. He ate the last one this noon, and since then we have not come to a bakery where I could buy more.”
“Likes buns, does he?” asked the farmer’s wife. “Well, I have some, but they have raisins in. Do you think Dido would not like them on that account?”
“Raisins in the buns!” cried George, making a low bow. “Why he will like them all the better on that account. The buns I give him only have little currants in. He will like raisins very much better indeed.”
And Dido did. He thought he had never tasted such good buns as those the farmer’s wife gave him. And Dido did all his tricks in the barn that night, safe and dry from the rain. The farmer and his wife, the hired man and some boys and girls, came from nearby houses to watch Dido do his tricks, and no one had to give a cent because the farmer had been kind to the men, and the farmer’s nice wife had been very good to Dido.
The next morning the sun shone, for the rain had stopped, and after Dido had taken a bath, in the big trough where the farm horses drank, he and his two masters started off down the country road again, having had a good breakfast.
The farmer’s wife gave George more raisin-buns[78] to put in his bag for Dido, and the dancing bear was very glad when he saw them.
“I shall not be hungry to-day,” said Dido to himself.
That day they passed through two or three small towns, and Dido did his tricks several times, so that the hat of George had quite some money in it. And that night the men and their trained bear slept in the woods, with moss for a bed and the blankets they carried with them for covers. Dido’s fur was his blanket.
Dido awakened early the next morning, before either of the men. He looked at them sleeping near him, and then he rolled over on the bed of moss, stretched his strong legs, scratched with his claws on the soft ground and opened his mouth to stretch that in a big yawn.
Then Dido stood up, and he saw that during the night the chain, which George always used to fasten him to a tree, had come loose.
“Why, I could run away if I wanted to,” thought Dido. “I could slip off in the woods and run away, as Don, the dog, did. Only I won’t. George would feel badly, and, besides, I might not be able to get anything to eat. These woods may not be like the woods on the mountain where I used to live. I guess I will not run away. I will just walk down to that little brook and get a drink.”
Not far from where the men and bear had slept that night was a nice brook, bubbling over green, mossy stones. Dido went down to the bank of it, and, as he was getting a drink, he saw some fish swimming about.
“Ha! Fish!” said Dido to himself. “That’s good. Here is my breakfast all ready and waiting for me—if I can catch one.”
The dancing bear leaned over the water as his father and mother had taught him to do. He had not forgotten. Dido waited. Pretty soon he saw, swimming along, a big, shiny fish.
“Ah, ha!” thought Dido. “I guess I can get you!”
Down he scooped with his paw, getting his claws under the fish, and out of the water he lifted him.
“Oh, look!” cried Tom, awakening just in time to see Dido toss the fish out on the bank. “What is our bear doing?”
“He is getting his breakfast,” answered George. “Wild bears often catch fish that way. But this is the first time I ever saw Dido do it. I wish he would catch some for us.”
And Dido did, though he did not know he was catching fish for his masters. He thought they would all be for him. But Dido pulled out of the brook more fish than he really needed, and Tom and George built a fire and cooked some[80] for themselves. Dido did not bother about a fire. He was afraid of a blaze, as all animals are.
After their breakfast in the woods, Dido and his masters marched on again. Whenever they came to a village Tom would blow on the brass horn, and Dido would dance around, turn somersaults, march like a soldier and climb a tree or telegraph pole. The people liked to see this last more than anything else, and Dido liked to climb, for he was used to that. He really liked it better than turning somersaults, for much dust got in his thick fur when he got down and rolled over on the ground.
Dido was a clean bear, and whenever he became dusty and dirty he wanted a bath. And whenever they came to a lake or stream of water Dido was allowed to go in, and splash about as much as he pleased.
One hot afternoon Dido was asleep in the woods with the two men. They had performed the tricks in one village, and were going on to another, taking a rest in between.
Once again Dido awakened to find his two masters asleep, but this time the chain was still fast to a tree, so Dido could not wander very far. He got up and walked about, and, as he did so he heard, off through the woods, the barking of a dog, and then a scream.
All at once Dido saw a girl running along the path in the woods, and behind the girl came a big black dog, barking angrily, and trying to catch the girl.
“Oh, stop him! Somebody please stop him!” screamed the girl. “He is a bad dog and wants to bite me!”
Of course Dido did not know all the girl said, but he could see that the dog was angry and had sharp teeth. He might bite the girl, though why any dog should want to bite such a nice girl Dido could not tell.
“Don’t let him get me!” begged the girl, and she ran toward Dido and the two men, who were now awake.
“Here!” cried Dido to the bad dog in animal language. “You let that girl alone!”
“No, I’ll not!” barked the dog. “I am going to bite her!”
“Oh, no, you’re not!” said Dido, and he growled now, for he did not like this kind of a dog. Then, just as the dog was going to jump at the girl, Dido stepped in between them, and, with one sweep of his big paw, the dancing bear knocked the dog to one side, so that he rolled over and over in the leaves.
“There! Now I guess you’ll let little girls alone!” said Dido, standing ready to knock the dog away again if he sprang at the girl.
“Don’t be afraid, little girl, we won’t let the bad dog hurt you,” said the man named George. “Whose dog is he?”
“He—he belongs to a tin peddler,” said the little girl. “I was walking along the road just now and a boy, behind me, threw a stone at the dog. I guess the dog must have thought I threw it, for he chased after me, and I ran, for I was afraid he would bite me.”
“I guess he would have, if he had caught you,” remarked Tom. “But Dido knocked him out of the way.”
“Is Dido the name of your bear?” asked the girl.
“Yes,” answered George. “Dido is our bear.”
“It’s a pretty name,” said the little girl.
Dido, who was watching to see if the dog would get up and run at the little girl again, wondered what her name was.
“So she likes my name,” said Dido to himself. “I wonder if she likes me?”
The bad dog got up from the pile of leaves where Dido had knocked him. He growled, deep down in his throat, and Dido called:
“Be careful! Don’t try any of your bad tricks around here. Are you going to bite this little girl?”
“No, I am not,” said the dog. “I guess I made a mistake. I thought she threw a stone at me, but perhaps she did not.”
“She doesn’t look like a girl who would throw stones at a dog or a bear,” Dido said. “You had better let her alone and go back where you belong.”
“I will,” said the dog, limping as he went away. “I am sorry I chased after her.”
“And I am sorry I had to hit you so hard with my paw,” spoke the dancing bear. “But it was the only way to stop you from jumping on the little girl.”
“Yes, I suppose so. You made me a little lame, but I guess that could not be helped. It was my own fault, but I surely thought she threw a stone at me. Good-by, Mr. Bear.”
“Good-by, Mr. Dog,” answered Dido. “Next time we meet we shall be friends.”
“I hope so,” spoke the dog, limping away.
“Oh, I am so glad he is gone!” the little girl said. “I was afraid of him.”
“Where do you live?” asked Tom, for of[85] course the little girl could not talk to the bear.
“Just down the road, but I have to go past that dog to get to my house,” she answered. “I am afraid.”
“Never mind. We’ll walk with you,” said George, “and then the dog won’t come near you.”
Of course neither the men nor the little girl knew that the peddler’s dog had promised to be good. They had seen Dido and the dog close together, but they did not know of what they were talking.
“You are not afraid of our bear, are you?” asked Tom, as he picked up the brass horn from where it had fallen in the moss as he slept.
“Oh, no, I’m not a bit afraid of him,” answered the little girl, looking at Dido. “He seems a nice, gentle bear.”
“He is,” said George. “Would you like to see him do some tricks?”
“Oh, very much!” cried the little girl, clapping her hands. “Will he do some tricks for me?”
“I guess so,” answered George with a laugh. “Do some tricks for the little girl you saved from the dog, Dido. Play a tune, Tom!”
So Tom played a tune on the brass horn, and Dido danced there in the woods, with only the little girl for an audience. But Dido did his[86] best, even though there was only one person to look on, besides Tom and George.
“Oh, what a funny trick!” laughed the little girl, whose name was Rose, as she saw Dido turn a somersault. Dido did not mind turning head over heels in the woods, for he could do it on the soft green moss, and his fur did not get full of dust.
“Now we will walk down the road to your home,” said George to the little girl. “Then you will not be afraid of the dog.”
But when they went out in the country road the peddler’s wagon was gone, and the dog was not in sight.
“There’s my house,” said the little girl, pointing to a white one down the highway.
Just then a woman came to the door of the house, and, looking down the road, she saw her little girl walking with two men and a bear.
“Oh, my goodness, Rose! What are you doing?” cried the woman, who was the mother of Rose. “Where have you been? And what is that terrible bear doing?”
“He isn’t a terrible bear at all, Mamma,” answered Rose, laughing. “He is a good trick bear, and he saved me from the bad dog.” And she told about what had happened.
“Well, if it’s a tame, trick bear, why I suppose that is different,” said the woman. “I’m much[87] obliged to you,” she added to the men, “for having your bear save my little girl from the peddler’s dog.”
“Dido did it all himself,” said George. “We were asleep when your Rose came running along with the dog after her. Dido knocked him out of the way.”
“He must be a good bear,” said Rose’s mother.
“He is!” cried the little girl. “You ought to see him do tricks, Mamma! Will you let your bear do some tricks for my mother?” she asked.
“Surely,” answered George. “Come on now, Dido!”
So Dido did most of his tricks again, and when they were finished the woman brought out some sugar cookies and other things, giving some to the men and some to Dido.
“Oh, how good they are!” thought the dancing bear, chewing a cookie. “They are as good as the buns with raisins in which the other lady gave me.”
“Come, now, we must travel on,” called George to Dido, after a bit. “It is very nice here, but we must go to a place where we can get money in the hat when you do your tricks.”
So off started the two men with the dancing bear once more. For several days they traveled, first stopping in one country village and then in another, Dido doing his tricks very nicely.
Then for two days it rained, and as no one wanted to stand out in the rain to see even a dancing bear there was nothing to do save to stay in barns, or under sheds, until the weather cleared.
For George and Tom did not stop at hotels very often as they traveled about with Dido. In the first place it cost too much money, and as the weather was warm, and as George and Tom were sort of Gypsies they liked to sleep out of doors nights, except when it rained. Then they would find a haystack, or a barn, and get shelter.
Another reason they did not stop at hotels was because people who kept them did not like bears in their places. Dido would have had to stay out in the stable, and some horses are afraid of bears.
So it was not so nice for the men when it rained, though Dido did not mind. His fur was so thick that it took a lot of rain to wet him through, and he was fond of water anyhow.
But when it rained, and there was no one to watch Dido do his tricks, of course no money came into the hat, and when there were no pennies there was not so much to eat. So you see, after all, rain is not any too good for a dancing bear.
But after a while the clouds rolled away, the sun came out and Dido and his masters were[89] glad. Once more they started off down the country roads, Tom tooting on the horn and George putting Dido through his tricks.
One day after Dido had done his dance in the streets of a small city his two masters saw another man, like themselves. This man had a hand-organ and a monkey, and he went about making music while the monkey collected pennies in his red hat. Tom and George stopped for a minute to talk to the hand-organ man, whom they had known years before.
“What is your name?” asked Dido of the monkey, when they found their masters paying no attention to them.
“Jacko,” answered the monkey. “What’s yours?”
“Dido; and I can dance. Can you?”
“No, but I can gather pennies in my hat. Can you do that?”
Dido said he could not. He did not have a hat, anyhow. The bear and monkey talked together, just as their masters were doing, but in a different way of course. Then Jacko said:
“I have a cousin, a monkey named Mappo. Did you ever see him?”
“No,” replied Dido, “but I have met Don, the runaway dog, and Tum Tum, the jolly elephant.”
“Why, Mappo, my cousin, knows them!” cried[90] Jacko. “I have often heard him speak of them. Mappo is such a merry monkey. He had many adventures, and they have all been put in a book.”
“My! It seems every one is getting in books,” said Dido. “I hope to have one written about me. But say! I’m hungry, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am,” answered Jacko.
“My master always feeds me buns after I finish my tricks,” went on the dancing bear, “but I guess he is so busy talking now that he has forgotten it.”
“I wish we could get something to eat,” spoke Jacko. “Oh, look, Dido, there’s a bakery store over there, and I see buns and cake in the window, besides cookies.”
“So there are!” said Dido.
“Let’s go over and see if they will give us any,” went on the monkey who was a cousin to Mappo. “My chain is loose, and I can easily run over there.”
“My chain is loose, too,” said Dido. “Come on, we’ll go over to the bakery and perhaps we can find some buns.”
Across the street went Dido and Jacko. Their masters were so busy talking about their travels that they did not notice the two animals. And, as it happened, the boy who had been left in charge of the bakery had gone out to watch the[91] dancing bear, and he was now standing looking at the hand-organ, and wishing he had one like it. So he did not see Dido and the monkey go in the bakery.
The dancing bear and the monkey went in the bakery. No one else was there. In the window was a pile of cakes and buns.
“Oh, I am so hungry!” said Dido.
“So am I!” cried Jacko.
“I’ll tell you what let’s do,” said Dido. “Let’s take some buns, and when our masters get through talking they will come in and pay for them.”
“All right,” said Jacko, and he reached over in the bakery window and took a paw full of buns. Dido did the same thing, and then the bear and the monkey began to eat.
“Aren’t these buns fine?” asked Dido, as he reached for another, which had a big raisin on the top, something like the kind the farmer’s wife made.
“They are very good,” said Jacko, the hand-organ monkey. “I don’t know when I have had better buns. I’m glad we came in here.”
“So am I,” replied Dido. “Have you tried one of these sugar cookies?”
“No,” answered Jacko, “I haven’t. I’ve been so busy eating buns—”
“Oh, do try a cookie,” and the dancing bear, with his big paw, like a hand, held something out to the monkey.
“Aren’t they good?” asked Dido, after Jacko had taken a taste of the cookie.
“Indeed, yes. I’ll have another.”
So the bear and the monkey ate cookies and buns, and then Jacko found a little cake, with sugar on the top.
“Oh, Dido!” he chattered. “These cakes are the best yet. Try one.”
So Dido did, and he liked it very much.
By this time the crowd of persons who had gathered about to watch the dancing bear and the monkey saw the two animals over in the bakery. But the three men—that is, the two who owned the dancing bear, and the one who had the hand-organ—were still so busy talking that they did not notice what was going on.
“Oh, look! The bear and monkey are eating everything in the bakery!” cried a little girl. The boy who had been left in charge of the shop heard this and back across the street he rushed. He did not wish for a hand-organ any more.
The people stood in a crowd outside the bakery. The boy who should have been in the shop, but who had run out, cried:
“Let me get in there! Let me in! I must drive out that bear and monkey, or the baker will say it is my fault for letting them in!”
“You’d better not go in,” said a man. “The monkey would not hurt you, but the bear might. Call the bear’s keepers.”
“Yes, that’s the best thing to do,” said a woman.
But before the boy could do this Jacko and Dido were eating more cakes from the windows. Then they found some pies, and they liked those so much they ate three, Dido taking two because he was largest, and needed more.
“What are all the people watching us for?” asked Jacko, as he looked to see what next he would take.
“Oh, I guess they think we are doing tricks,” said Dido. “But we are only eating because we are hungry.”
“And when our masters get through talking they will pay for what we have had,” said Jacko.
Just then the baker, who had been down in the cellar of his shop, making bread and cake, came up into the store, thinking, of course, that the boy he had left in charge, to wait on customers, would be there. Instead of that the baker saw the bear and monkey eating things from his show window.
“Oh, my! Oh, my! Oh, my!” cried the baker, three times, just like that, he was so surprised. “Oh! Oh! Oh!”
Then he ran back down in the cellar and locked the door after him. But he need not have been afraid, for neither Dido nor Jacko would have harmed him in the least.
By this time George, Tom and the hand-organ man saw what was happening. They looked across the street and saw the crowd in front of the bakery, and also saw Dido and Jacko still eating cake.
“Oh, my!” cried George. “We shall have to pay a lot of money for what our bear has eaten.”
“And I will have to pay for what my monkey took,” said the hand-organ man.
“But they knew no better,” said George, kindly. “They were hungry, I guess. But now they must have had enough.”
And Dido and Jacko did have enough. Never before had they had such a fine feast. I forget just how much money the bear men and the hand-organ man had to pay, but it was quite a sum, for the monkey and bear had eaten many buns, pies, cookies and cakes. A bear is very big, and when he is hungry he can eat much.
“You will have to do a lot of dancing and tricks to make up for all the bakery things you took,” said George to Dido. But the bear did not mind that, for he had had so many good things to eat.
For two or three days more Dido traveled on with his masters, going from place to place, in towns and little villages where the bear did his tricks.
And the people, especially the boys and girls, liked them so much that they tossed many cents and dimes into the hat of George, so that he had enough to buy things for himself, for Tom and for Dido, and the bear did not have to go in any more bake shops all by himself.
Sometimes when Dido was doing his tricks, dogs would gather outside the crowd of people[97] watching, and would bark. For the dogs were a bit afraid of the bear, and did not like him. That is why they barked.
Once a dog who did not know that Dido was tame, and was kind and good, tried to bite the dancing bear.
Dido was now so large and strong that he might easily have hurt the dog badly by one blow of his big paw. But instead of doing that Dido just gently pushed the dog out of the way, and over into a watering trough, where horses drank.
When the people saw this they laughed, and then that dog did not feel much like biting Dido. The dog was ashamed of himself, and away he ran, with his tail tucked between his legs.
“Good bear!” said George. “That’s the way to treat barking dogs.”
Another time in a small town, where Dido was doing his tricks in the park, a team of horses were driven past. They smelled the wild smell of the bear, which was more plain to them than to the people, and started to run away.
A lady and little girl were in the carriage and they might have been hurt had the horses gone far. But Tom, who was getting ready to blow a marching tune on the brass horn, for Dido to do his trick, dropped the horn and sprang for the horses.
He caught them by the bridles and held them so they could not run, and the lady and little girl were not hurt.
“You are a good man to stop the runaway horses,” said a man in the crowd.
“Well, it was the fault of our bear that the team started to run,” said Tom, “so I knew it was my place to stop them.”
And when the horses saw that Dido was not going to chase after them, or do them any harm, they were not frightened any more, but stood still, so the lady and little girl in the carriage could watch the tricks which Dido did.
That night Dido and his masters slept under a warm stack of hay in a field, and a farmer gave them some good things to eat, because he liked animals. Dido did some tricks that evening in front of the farmhouse, before a crowd of boys and girls.
Early the next morning Dido awoke in his warm nest in the hay. He was not tied to any tree now, for there was none in the field, and he could wander about as he pleased. But by this time Dido was so tame that his masters knew he would not run away.
“I think I will take a walk before breakfast,” said Dido to himself, “and see if I cannot find a brook with fish in. I should like a fish very much.”
Then Dido saw a telegraph pole beside the road near the field.
“I think I will climb that pole, and see how sharp my claws are,” said Dido to himself. “I must keep in practice and I have not climbed any poles in two or three days.”
So, having eaten all the red berries he wanted, Dido started to climb up the telegraph pole. He had not gone very far up it before he heard some one shouting at him. Looking up Dido saw a man on top of the pole.
“Hello!” said Dido to himself; “I did not know men could climb poles like a bear. I wonder who you are and how you did it?”
The man worked for a telephone company, and on his boots he had sharp, iron spurs, like a bear’s claws, and by sticking these spurs in the wood of the pole the man could climb up.
But the man, who was out early fixing broken wires on the pole, looking down and seeing a bear coming up after him, was much frightened.
“I say!” he cried. “Go on back! Don’t come up here after me! Go on down! Get away!”
The man shouted loudly, but Dido did not understand why he, himself, should stop climbing a pole on that account, so on he kept going up higher and higher.
“Go back! Go back!” yelled the man. But Dido would not.
“What in the world is the matter with that man?” thought Dido, as the dancing bear kept on climbing up the pole. “He acts so funny, just as if he did not want me to come near him. My master does not act so. For, though I know I used to be cross and growl at my master, and though I was afraid of all men, I am not that way any more. I like men. He looks like a nice man, up on the pole, and I want to see him. I never before saw a man who could climb a telegraph pole as well as I can.”
So Dido kept on climbing up, and the man continued to yell and shout. He went as far up the pole as he could get, and sat down on a stick of wood that stuck out crossways. There were wires made fast to glass knobs on the ends of these pieces of wood.
“He certainly is a queer man,” thought Dido. “He acts just as if he didn’t like me. Well, I’ll soon show him that I won’t hurt him. I wonder if he has a bun in his pocket?”
Then, all of a sudden, Dido saw the man throw something down.
“Ah! Perhaps that is a bun,” thought Dido.
But Dido felt the thing the man had thrown down hit him hard on his nose, and it hurt so that the dancing bear gave a growl and a howl. It was a hard screwdriver that had hit Dido on the nose. The telephone lineman had thrown his screwdriver at the bear.
“Ouch!” said Dido to himself. “That was not nice! I wonder if he did that on purpose?”
Dido stopped climbing for a moment, and looked up at the man. Then the dancing bear rubbed his nose with his paw. A bear’s nose is very soft and tender, and when he is hit there it hurts him very much.
Then, as Dido was rubbing his sore nose, all of a sudden, Bang! something else was thrown by the man. It was a pair of pliers, for cutting wire, and they hit Dido on the paw he was holding up.
“Ha!” thought the dancing bear. “It is a good thing I had my paw over my nose, or I would be hurt worse than ever. I wonder why that man is throwing things at me, and shouting so?”
Just then Tom and George, the keepers of the bear, came running out of the field where they had been asleep under the haystack. They had[102] awakened, missed Dido, and had come to search for him.
“Why, look at our bear!” cried George. “He is up the pole.”
“So he is!” exclaimed Tom, in surprise.
Then the telephone lineman on the pole saw the other two men.
“Hi, there!” he called to them. “Is this your bear?”
“Surely that is our bear,” answered George.
“Well, then, I wish you’d call him down!” went on the lineman. “He chased up here after me to bite and scratch me. Call him down.”
“Ha! No!” laughed George. “Dido would never climb up to bite or scratch you. He is too good a bear for that. He is just climbing the pole, as that is one of his tricks.”
“What! Is this a trick bear? Is he tame?” asked the man high up on the pole.
“Of course he is tame,” said George.
“And he won’t hurt me?”
“Not a bit. He just wants to be friends with you.”
“Oh, then I am very sorry,” said the lineman quickly.
“Sorry for what?” asked Tom, curiously.
“That I threw my screwdriver and my pliers at your bear,” answered the man on the telegraph pole. “I hit him on the nose. I thought he was[103] a wild bear after me, or I never would have done it. I did not see any men with him.”
“Well, I guess Dido will forgive you for hitting him,” spoke George. “Come on down, Dido, if the man is afraid of you.”
“Oh, I am not afraid any more,” the telephone man said, laughing.
Dido came down, and had his breakfast with George and Tom. Afterward the telephone man climbed down, and gave Dido a piece of pie from his dinner pail.
“That is to pay you because I hit you on the nose,” said the man. “I am very sorry, and so I give you this little treat.”
And I think Dido understood, and forgave the man. For the dancing bear ate the pie, and then, when George told him to, Dido let the lineman pat him on the head.
“Now we will travel on again,” said George after a bit, and away he and Tom went with Dido, blowing nice tooting tunes on the brass horn, and giving a dancing-bear show wherever they could find a crowd of persons with money to toss into the hat.
All through the long summer days Dido traveled about with his masters, and then one day there came a change. One night, after he had danced many times that day, Dido and his masters stopped at a hotel. Dido was allowed to[104] sleep out in the stable where there were no horses to be frightened, while Tom and George went in the hotel to eat.
The next morning Dido saw a strange man with his masters when they came out to the stable to feed him.
“There is our dancing bear,” said George to the new man. “Do you think you would like to buy him?”
“If he can do all the tricks you say he can I may,” answered the other man.
“I will show you what tricks he can do,” spoke George. “Come, Dido, here is a sweet cracker for you. Now do your tricks.”
So out in front of the stable Dido danced, marched like a soldier and turned somersaults.
“Those are good tricks,” said the strange man. “I will buy your bear and take him to a circus. There I will have him do tricks in the ring. Do you think he will?”
“Oh, yes,” answered George. “He was in a circus once before, but for only a little while. Perhaps he may remember about it.”
The three men went back to the hotel, leaving some buns for Dido to eat. And the dancing bear wondered what was going to happen to him.
Pretty soon George came out to where Dido was chained in the stable. George gave Dido a piece of berry pie, and said:
“Good-by, Dido. Tom and I are going to sell you to this circus man. But he will be good and kind to you, and teach you new tricks. So go with him and be a good bear. Tom and I are going back to the mountains of our own country, and perhaps we will catch more bears. Good-by, Dido.”
Tom came out, and blew a sad little tune on the brass horn. Then he too said good-by to Dido, and the two men who had traveled around with Dido so many months went away. Dido ran after them as far as his chain would let him, and then he lay down and put his head between his paws.
Animals don’t cry, of course, but they can feel sad when their kind masters or mistresses go away, and I am sure Dido felt sad. Dogs sometimes feel so badly at being parted from their masters that they will not eat.
But Dido was not that way. A little later, when the circus man came out to the stable with a nice piece of fish for the dancing bear, Dido ate it and was very glad to get it.
“Now, Dido,” said the man, “you are my bear, and I will be good to you. We are not going about the country any more, to let you go dancing in the streets and fields. You are going to perform in a circus ring, under a tent, something like you did before, and I think you will like it.”
Then came a not very happy time for Dido. He was put in a big box, something like the trap in which he had been caught. But this box was larger, as Dido was a big bear now, and the box had water in it, and nice things to eat.
Then the box, with Dido in, was put on a wagon and taken to the railroad station, where it was lifted on a train. Dido slept as much as he could, for he did not like to travel that way. He would much rather have tramped through the woods and over the fields. But soon his journey was at an end.
Still in his box he was taken from the train, and when the box was opened Dido found himself in what he thought at first was a big white house. In it were many other animals, in cages, as Dido could see, and he could smell other animals whom he could not see.
Dido walked out and rolled over in a pile of straw. It felt so good to be out of that cage, that he wanted to laugh—and that is the way all animals laugh. Then the dancing bear heard a voice saying close to his ear:
“Well, I do believe it’s my old friend Dido, whom I met in Madison Square Garden, New York City! Aren’t you Dido, the dancing bear?”
“That’s who I am,” answered Dido, standing up, “and you are—”
“Tum Tum, the jolly elephant,” was the answer. “I’m glad to see you again.”
Dido looked around, and there, surely enough, was Tum Tum, holding out his long nose, or trunk. Dido rubbed noses with him.
“How did you get here?” asked Tum Tum.
“Oh, my masters sold me to another man, and he said he was going to put me in a circus. I guess this is it.”
“Yes, this is the circus,” answered Tum Tum. “Only it is traveling around now, instead of staying for weeks at a time in New York. We go to a new city every day, and we have a big tent instead of Madison Square Garden to act in. This white house you see over us is a tent.”
“Oh, a tent, eh?” said Dido. “Well, it is quite nice.”
“Yes, it is nice except in cold weather,” said the elephant, who not having fur, could not stand cold as bears can. “In the winter there is no circus in a tent,” said Tum Tum.
“What do you do in winter?” asked Dido.
“Oh, when it is time for the snow and ice the circus goes, I have been told, up to a place where we stay in big, warm barns until summer comes again.”
Tum Tum told Dido many things about the circus, for which I have not space in this book. And Dido also learned many new things. He[108] learned to sleep in a cage on wheels, in which he was drawn about the country, or put on big, flat railroad cars to be pulled from place to place. This was when the circus traveled, which was, nearly always, at night.
And Dido’s new master taught him many new tricks which the dancing bear did in the circus ring, besides doing the ones George had taught him. Dido learned to ride on a bicycle, he learned to walk across a long pole, that was resting on two barrels. He learned to roll over and over inside a barrel, and he learned to let a dog sit on his back and be given a ride.
Dido liked it very much in the circus, and he made many friends, not only among the animals but among the circus folk, for Dido was a gentle bear.
But best of all Dido liked Tum Tum, the jolly elephant.
“I met a friend of yours while I was out traveling,” said Dido to the circus elephant one day.
“Who was it?” asked Tum Tum.
“Don, the runaway dog.”
“Oh, do tell me about him,” begged Tum Tum, as he ate a bag of peanuts a little girl held out to him. So Dido told about meeting Don.
“What else did you do besides meeting Don?” asked Tum Tum, when the dancing bear had finished telling about the runaway dog.
“Oh, many things happened to me,” said Dido. “I had many adventures, as many, I think, as would fill a book.”
“Who knows?” asked Tum Tum. “Perhaps they will be put in a book. I never thought my adventures would be printed, but they were. Just you wait.”
So Dido waited, and while he waited the circus went on from place to place. People came into the big tent to look at the animals, and watch those who, like Dido, did tricks. Very often Dido’s new master would think up a different trick for Dido to do, and the bear was very anxious to please.
There was one trick Dido learned to do which he did not like at all, at first. This was jumping through a big wooden ring which had little jets of fire all around it. At least Dido thought it[110] was fire, for the jets glowed brightly, though they were not hot.
At first when his master brought out this glowing, blazing hoop, or ring, Dido shrank away from it. But his master stood on the other side of it, holding out an apple and a bun. Dido wanted both, very much, but when he walked around the outside of the hoop, instead of leaping through it to get the treat, his master put them away.
“No, no, Dido,” he said. “To get the apple and bun you must jump through the hoop. Come on. It won’t hurt you. You know I would never do anything to hurt you.”
So, after a bit, Dido did jump through the blazing hoop to get the apple, and he found he was not hurt in the least, nor burned. And, later on, he learned that around the hoop were only tiny electric lights, like those which are sometimes put on Christmas trees in place of candles, and these lights you can hold in your hand without feeling any heat.
So Dido learned a new trick, and when he did it the people in the circus tent clapped their hands loudly. By this time Dido had learned that this meant they were pleased with him.
The people also clapped when Tum Tum did his tricks, and one day Tum Tum and Dido performed a trick together. They had to practice[111] it a long while, though, before it was well done. And this was the trick:
On the broad, strong back of the jolly elephant was built a platform of boards. It was square, and made so it could be lifted on and off, being fastened on by broad straps, as are the little houses on the elephants’ backs in circus parades.
By means of a little ladder Dido and his new master could climb up to this platform on Tum Tum’s back, and there, as the big elephant marched around the ring, Dido did his dance, while the man played on the same horn that Tom had used.
Around and around on the platform up on the back of Tum Tum, the jolly elephant, rode Dido and his master. Dido did such a funny dance that he made the children laugh.
“You are a very good bear,” said his master, patting him and giving him two buns, one extra.
Dido did many other tricks in the circus as it went from place to place. But now the weather was getting cooler.
“We shall soon go to our Winter quarters,” said Tum Tum. “And then for some time we will stay in the same place, night after night.”
“Oh, I don’t mind traveling,” spoke Dido. “I rather like it.”
One day, as Dido was asleep in his cage after having done his tricks, he heard a noise near the[112] edge of the tent. It was a mewing, crying sort of noise, and, the first thing Dido knew, something small and black scrambled into his cage and hid down among the straw.
“Hello there!” called Dido, in animal language. “Who are you?”
“Oh, I’m Blackie,” was the answer. “Please don’t drive me out.”
“Of course I won’t drive you out,” said Dido kindly. “But who are you, and why is your name Blackie?”
“I am a cat, and I am called Blackie because I am black,” was the answer, and then a cat stuck her head out from under the straw in Dido’s cage, where he always went to rest after having done his tricks.
“What is the matter with you?” asked Dido. “You seem frightened.”
“I am frightened,” said Blackie. “A lot of bad boys were chasing me and throwing stones at me. I ran as fast as I could, but they nearly caught me. But I saw this big white house and I ran in it. Then I saw a place to hide under the straw in your cage-wagon, and I jumped up here.”
“And you are very welcome,” said Dido kindly. “I am glad you got away from the boys. But this is not a white house, though I thought it was myself, at first.”
“What is it?” asked Blackie.
“It is a circus tent. If you like you may stay and see me do my tricks.”
“Thank you, I would like to stay,” spoke Blackie, “but you see I am trying to find my way home. I am lost.”
“Lost!” exclaimed Dido. “That’s what happened to Don, the runaway dog. He knows Tum Tum, our jolly elephant.”
“Was Don lost?” asked Blackie.
“Yes, but he found his home again.”
“I hope I do,” said Blackie. “I used to live with a very nice little boy and girl, who treated me kindly, and gave me warm milk for breakfast. One day I strayed too far off, went in a vacant house and was locked in. I found my way to the roof and, later, met a good lady who cared for me. She took me out to the country in a basket, but when the cover came loose I jumped out, thinking I could find my way back home alone. But I can’t seem to, and I’ve walked ever and ever so far. Then these boys chased me and I ran in here.”
“Well, I wish I could help you, but I can’t leave the circus,” said Dido. “Here is a bit of fish I didn’t need; you may have that, and perhaps you will feel better after eating.”
Blackie did. She thanked Dido very much and went to sleep in the straw of the bear’s cage.[114] One of the animal men saw her and gave her some milk to drink.
“Can’t you really stay and see me do some tricks?” asked Dido.
“No, thank you,” spoke Blackie. “I’ll just peep out of this tent, as you call it, and if the boys are gone I’ll trot along. Maybe I shall find my home to-day.”
Blackie looked out under the tent. She saw no boys.
“Good-by!” called the lost cat to Dido. “I’m going away.”
“I hope you find your home, and that I see you again,” said Dido. “Good-by!”
In a few more weeks the weather grew quite cool, and one day the big circus tent was taken down for the last time, the cages were put on the cars, and the circus started on a long journey.
“Where are we going?” asked Dido of Tum Tum.
“To the big barns I told you about,” answered the jolly elephant. “We are going into winter quarters.”
And, a few days later, there is where Dido found himself. He was still kept in his cage, which was in a big barn with many other cages of animals. There were horses and elephants in the barn, Tum Tum being there, of course.
Dido did not have to do his tricks every day[115] now. But once a week or so his master came to put him through them, to see that the bear had not forgotten how to dance, or turn somersaults.
It was nice and warm in the big circus barn, and the animals had enough to eat, so they had a very good time of it.
“Still I liked traveling about the country with George and Tom,” said Dido. “It was real jolly sleeping out of doors, except when it rained. And I like going about with the circus, too.”
“Oh, you will be able to go about again,” said Tum Tum. “When warm weather comes we shall travel once more.”
But something happened which nearly stopped all the circus animals from ever traveling about the country again.
One night Dido was awakened in his cage by a queer smell. And there was a funny feeling in his nose and throat as if he wanted to sneeze.
Dido stood up in his cage and looked across the barn. He saw smoke, and he knew what smoke was, for he had often seen Tom and George make a fire in the woods to boil coffee. And Dido saw fire with the smoke. Then he knew what the queer smell was that had made him want to sneeze. It was the smoke in his nose.
The fire grew brighter and the smoke thicker. Dido stood close to the bars of his cage and called[116] to Tum Tum, who was asleep standing up, as elephants often do.
“Tum Tum!” called Dido in animal talk, “the circus barn is on fire! The barn is on fire! What shall we do?”
Tum Tum awoke with a start. He looked at the fire, which was in one end of the barn, farthest off from the animal cages.
“Oh, my! A fire!” cried Tum Tum. “That is terrible! We must get out somehow!”
“That is easy for you to do,” cried Dido, “for you are not in a cage. But what shall I do?”
“We must call to the circus men to come and let you caged animals out,” said Tum Tum. “I’ll call,” and he made a loud trumpet noise.
“They had better hurry,” said Dido. “The fire is growing hotter. Once my masters made a fire in the woods, and it spread in the dry leaves so they had to get water and put it out. Oh, Tum Tum, can’t you let me out of my cage?”
“Yes,” said Tum Tum, “I will. I can open many animal cages with my trunk.” Tum Tum was a trick elephant and could do many things. He soon had opened the cage of the dancing bear, and Dido could jump out. By this time the other animals were much excited by the fire. Some of them broke out of their cages by themselves. Others Tum Tum let out, helped by Dido.
“But we must get out of the burning circus barn,” Dido said. “To be out of our cages will do us no good unless we get out of the barn, too.”
Tum Tum, and the other elephants and other animals, ran around the inside of the circus barn, looking for an open door. But there was none. All the doors and windows were tightly fastened to keep out the cold.
By this time men could be heard outside shouting about the fire. Dido ran up to one door. This led outside, as he knew, for he had come in and out of it several times.
“Tum Tum!” called the dancing bear, “if we could break open this door we could get out and let the other animals out too. Let us try to break down the door.”
“All right!” cried Tum Tum. “I will bang it with my strong head. Look out! Here I come!”
Tum Tum backed up a little way. Then he ran at the door and struck it with his head. At first it would not open. But when Tum Tum struck it again and again, and when Dido hit on it with his powerful paws, the door began to splinter and crack.
“Good!” cried the other animals. “Dido and Tum Tum will now let us out of the burning barn!”
Dido and Tum Tum banged on the door.[119] With his paws Dido pulled away the splinters and pieces of wood that Tum Tum broke off with his head. Soon there was room for all the animals to go out.
“Come on!” cried Tum Tum. And he and Dido let all the other animals run out first and then they went out. And it was high time, too, for the barn was blazing very hot and fast now.
Then men came up with hoses to squirt water on the fire, while other men drove the animals to another barn where they could stay for a while.
“All the animals saved!” cried the head circus man when the fire was out. “That’s fine! I wonder how they got out of the barn.”
“Oh, Dido and Tum Tum let them out,” said one of the trainers. “I saw the elephant and bear break down the door.”
Then the circus folk, as well as the animals, loved Dido and Tum Tum more than ever. Soon the burned barn was built over new, and it was better than before. Dido stayed in it all winter and when spring came again he and Tum Tum started out with the circus show again.
I wish I had space to tell you other adventures of Dido, the dancing bear, but this book is quite filled, as you may see. And Dido did finally[120] get into a book, didn’t he? I hope he likes what I have written about him, if he ever sees it.
But if I can not tell you any more about Dido I can about Blackie, the cat who hid in the bear’s cage. So the next book will be named “Blackie, a Lost Cat: Her Many Adventures.” And I hope you will like what I have to write about her.
“Tum Tum,” said Dido one day as he was dancing on the platform on the elephant’s back, “do you remember the fire?”
“I should say I did,” answered Tum Tum. “I never want to see another.”
“Nor do I,” spoke Dido, as he whirled about while his circus master tooted a gay tune on the brass horn.
Then Dido turned somersaults in the circus ring, jumped through the lighted hoop and did many other tricks.
And now let us all say:
“Good-by, Dido!”
THE END
GOOD STORIES FOR CHILDREN
(From four to nine years old)
THE KNEETIME ANIMAL STORIES
In all nursery literature animals have played a conspicuous part; and the reason is obvious, for nothing entertains a child more than the antics of an animal. These stories abound in amusing incidents such as children adore, and the characters are so full of life, so appealing to a child’s imagination, that none will be satisfied until they have met all of their favorites—Squinty, Slicko, Mappo, and the rest.
Cloth, Large 12mo., Illustrated.
BARSE & HOPKINS
Newark, N. J. New York, N. Y.
Transcriber’s Notes:
Punctuation and spelling inaccuracies were silently corrected.
Archaic and variable spelling has been preserved.
Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.