The Newtown bee., 1892-09-30
''Oh, Harry, is that shaggy thing

sob, Harry, is that shaggy thing a
| bear?" she asked.
''Pray, miss, what would you think it
was?" said Harry, shortly.
''WelI, think it would make "a real
bear laugh to look as it, replied Mamie.
sit would do for buffalo, if it had
horns, wouldn't t?''
Then Harry got mad.
He turned almost savagely to her, and
cried, rudely:
''See here, miss, you go right along
away from here, and don't set yourself
up to criticise something you know moth
ing whatever about
Mamie jumped down from the chair
and went away a few steps, with face
roughly to her in his life, before. She
stood silent little, and then, looking up
at him with an offended air, said:
"If | were you, Id just paint my own
portrait, and call it a bear. [ am sure
there never was Il bear any crosser than
you are, to-day"
And the little thing walked out of the
room, straight as dart and shut the
door with the least little bang.
Harry was ashamed of himself in a
minute.
Only short time ago, they had nursed
little Mamie through the scarlet fever,
and came near losing her. She was not
strong, even yet.
"That wasn't bit gentlemanly in me, :"
he thought, ruefully. ''I'm glad mother
did not hear it. | needn't have snapped
the little puss up like that. Wish she
would come back"
He had notion to go to the door and
call her back, to tell her he was sorry.
Before he could rise from his chair, he
heard his mother calling him from the
hall below.
Harry! Harry! where are you?"
Now Harry was very convenient to
have around the house when there were
errands to be done; and he had fancy
there might be something of the sort on
hand just now.
1t was rather boyish in a tall fellow
like Harry, and am ashamed to tell it;
but he sat perfectly still and did not an
swer her.
Tim not going on any errand just now,
if | can help it, he said to himself.
And, though Mrs Morgan called sever
al times, no answer went ringing down
the stairs, as usual.
II thought he was up there; but |
suppose he has gone out,'' he heard her
say and then she went back into the din
ing room. Harry took up his brush and
palette, mixed a color Or two and just sat
there leaning idly on his easel. He did
not feel like work nobody can when they
are all out of sorts and as cross as he was
just then.
And half an hour later, not touch of
the brush had gone on the canvas, not
hair more of that bear was painted. Rath-
er a discouraging start that toward a
prize picture, wasn't it?
Then queer thing happened. All of
a sudden Harry found himself, not in his
coy little room, but away out in love-
ly bit of green woodland. He thought
he was alone, at first; but very soon he
saw man sitting on campstool, with
an easel before him..
"a brother artist, [ suppose remark
ed Harry, as he drew nearer and perceiv-
ed that the painter had his palette and
brushes in hand and was busy at work
on square of canvas. "Wonder what
he's painting" said Harry, going still
closer and then barely able to restrain a
laugh, for the stranger was painting a
brown bear, very much like the one he
had himself just made such a failure on
and with but little better success.
just then a queer sound fell on Harry's
ears and, turning hastily to see what
made it, he started in intense surprise,
not 60 say sheer fright. for there, only a
few feet from him. stood the artists
model, huge brown bear, upon its hind
legs.
Yes, Harry was scared. He was about !
to take to his heels and run for dear life, |
when something SO odd took place that
he stood still with astonishment, right in
the big brute's face.
The odd thing was, that the brown
bear began to talk like man. Harry
plainly heard him say:
ssHallo, Mister Painter-Man, what are
you up to, there9 Trying to get pic
ture? Why. don't you know man can't
succeed at anything with as cross face
as you have on? You look as if you
could bite a ten-penny nail right in two.
Your mouth is all in twist. Tut, tut, /
man, you'll never work with frown like
chat on your brow. What are you try
ing to paint anyhow p
The bear spoke loud enough for Harry
TO understand every word, but the artist |
lid not seem TO hear, for he brushed 7
away without moving.
"Oh, hoi'' says Bruin, 81 fancy you
lon't hear we'll, Mister Painter Man. I'll
ust walk up and take a look at that pic
ure, for / think you are painting my
1ortrait.v
So the great beast began to walk slow