The Newtown bee., 1892-09-30
" - COM EIj IS; SOAP
q brand never found wanting, which
has not only established but sustains
the reputation of it's manufacturers

ly up to the artist, who yet did not ap-
pear to notice him. He sat still working
busily until the bear poked his huge,
cold nose up directly under the easel and
gave low growl of disapproval.
Then he did look up and jump up, too,
with a shrill cry of alarm and, hastily
dropping his brush and palette, he ran
away as fast as he could, his hat flying
off and his hair standing on end with ter
ror.
''Ha ha ha! studies from nature don't
suit you, do they?" roared the big bear
in great glee. Then he raised his shaggy
form up on his hind legs again and took
good look at his portrait on the can
vas.
And Harry saw his clumsy sides shake
with laughter and presently he said:
do L really look like that: No, no
Pun ugly enough, no doubt, but not so
ugly as he has made me. Oh, no!
shall have to shake that painter-man a
liGGiS3 W tCdSh INN W ot d" luC UCtICl
Ha, ha, what a poor painter he is! Why,
any decent brute would be ashamed to
look like that. Where is the fellow
Where has he gone to? Oh, | see him !!
Now for chase. If he runs no better
than he paints, I'll have an easy game to
catch him.
Harry glanced round and saw the poor
artist scampering off for dear life and the
big brown bear racing merrily after him,
shaking his fat shoulders with fun.
On they went, until the frightened
painter saw a tree before him. He flew
toward it and climbed ninbly up its
trunk.
"Oh, no! L can beat you at that! -
cried Bruin, Fastening after him. Up he
went and the artist, seeing his enemy at
his heels, began to scream Justify and
climb out on projecting limb as far as
he dared to go.
Out went the bear, too. But he was so
heavy, the bough trembled with his
weight and he had to go more slowly.
The painter, who was little, thin
man, saw his advantage and slipping out
along the bough reached the end of it,
swung himself off, dropped to the ground
and ran fieetly back to where he had left
his tools.
His pursuer grOwled again and said:
II can beat you at that, too, Mr. Paint
er-Man."
So he crept out ON the limb, as the art
ist had done and the next thing he knew
the Dough bent and broke with a crash
and down came Bruin, bruised and sore,
all in heap.
The little artist screamed again; but
he snatched up his easel and brushes
and, without waiting to pick up his hat,
took to his heels and, half frightened to
death, got out of sight while the enrag-
ed bear was trying to pick himself up.
He shook his shaggy bulk, with
deep, savage growl and, CHANGING round,
he spied Harry and made lunge to-
ward him.
Harry was sure his time had come,
now. He gave loud cry and turned to
fly to save his life, when, all of sud-
den, he awoke and found that he had
been fast asleep with his head resting
against his easel and his brush in his
hand.
1t was nothing in the world but n
cold sweat of fear, when he Strengthened
himself up and looked around the room.
ssWell, did anybody ever hear of such
a ridiculous dream!'' he cried, rubbing
his head, to wake himself more thor
oughly. SLOW could anybody think of
such mess of nonsense? How scared
was, to be sure. And, oh, how funny
that painter did look running up that
tree!'
He laid himself back in his chair and
laughed until the tears ran down his
cheeks at the recollection.
81 do believe 1 could paint that brown
bear, now'' he cried, joyfully, a moment
later, his face lighting with glow of
pleasant to see. 81 know
just how every claw and hair and wrin-
kle looked. / verify think do. Let's
try it a minute, anyhow"
He caught up his palette and dipped
his brush into the right shade of color
and went to work earnestly.
A few moments silent, rapid painting,
every stroke of the camel's hair telling
It's own story and he looked up again to
take view of the result.
.Eurekal'' he exclaimed, triumphant |
", 81 have hit it at last. I've had .