BROTHER BRUIN.

A dancing Bear grotesque and funny

Earned for his master heaps of money,

Gruff yet good-natured, fond of honey,

And cheerful if the day was sunny.

Past hedge and ditch, past pond and wood

He tramped, and on some common stood;

There, cottage children circling gaily,

He in their midmost footed daily.

Pandean pipes and drum and muzzle

Were quite enough his brain to puzzle:

But like a philosophic bear

He let alone extraneous care

And danced contented anywhere.

Still, year on year, and wear and tear,

Age even the gruffest, bluffest bear.

A day came when he scarce could prance,

And when his master looked askance

On dancing Bear who would not dance.

To looks succeeded blows; hard blows

Battered his ears and poor old nose.

From bluff and gruff he waxed curmudgeon;

He danced indeed, but danced in dudgeon,

Capered in fury fast and faster.

Ah, could he once but hug his master

And perish in one joint disaster!

But deafness, blindness, weakness growing,

Not fury's self could keep him going.

One dark day when the snow was snowing

His cup was brimmed to overflowing:

He tottered, toppled on one side,

Growled once, and shook his head, and died.

The master kicked and struck in vain,

The weary drudge had distanced pain

And never now would wince again.

The master growled; he might have howled

Or coaxed,— that slave's last growl was growled.

So gnawed by rancor and chagrin

One thing remained: he sold the skin.

What next the man did is not worth

Your notice or my setting forth,

But hearken what befell at last.

His idle working days gone past,

And not one friend and not one penny

Stored up ( if ever he had any

Friends; but his coppers had been many ),

All doors stood shut against him but

The workhouse door, which cannot shut.

There he droned on,— a grim old sinner,

Toothless, and grumbling for his dinner,

Unpitied quite, uncared for much

( The rate-payers not favoring such ),

Hungry and gaunt, with time to spare;

Perhaps the hungry, gaunt old Bear

Danced back, a haunting memory.

Indeed, I hope so, for you see

If once the hard old heart relented,

The hard old man may have repented.