The gazette-times. [volume] (Heppner, Or.) 1912-1925, 1914-10-15

punule OF DIoWn Iuri SUI, pau
ded paws; twinkling, mischievous
eyes, and an inquisitive nose that was
forever getting him into trouble.
Since the day, a year ago, when
Farmer John Clayton had carried him
home from beside the body of his
slaughtered dam, Babe had been the
pet and playing of the boys at the
Clayton Farm. He followed them
about like dog, wrestled with them
on the grass in the shadows of the old
orchard, fused with the cat and
squabbled with the old hound when
ever he could tease that dignified dog
into a recognition Of his existence.
But for Mrs. Clayton and her broom
he had wholesome respect, relnem-
bering the many times his explorations
among her pots and pans had ended
in his own hurried and ignominous
exit from the kitchen door.
But today Babe was i'll at ease 1t
was the first day of the fall school
term; the boys had mysteriously dis
appeared, and he was lonesome. There
were no shouting lads in the shadows
Of the old orchard, and the great barn
was silent and empty.
Restlessly he shifted along the path,
waddled out the open gate, and, rails
ing himself erect, gazed wistfully
down the road. There was no one in
sight. He slapped at a butterfly
fitting above his head, lurched after
It few steps, then promptly forgot
about it to inspect the end of grass
grown log. For half an hour he lott
cred lazily along the sunlit road nosing
at numerous anthills and pausing to
nibble at the raspberries that grew
ripe and luscious along the rail fence.
Suddenly he stood erect. To his nos
trils had come the familiar and not
unwelcome scent Of man; he could hear
the low murmur Of voices. His shrewd
little eyes were scanning the veran-
daed front of the log school house.
The open door invited investigation.
Quietly he drew himself up the
steps and into the lobby For space
he stood staring up at the long row
of caps and lunch baskets, on the
pegs above his head. Odors of bread,
cooked meats and other desirable eat
ables drifted down to his uplifted nose
Rising on his launches, he tore a
package from its fastening and was
greedily devouring its contents, when
/ young woman, book in hand, stepped
into the lobby. Her startled scream
brought a rush of feet, then stimuli
taneous burst of laughter.
"Why teacher" said 12-year-old
George Clayton, OTIS only Babe, my
tame bear He won't hurt anyone.
I'll take him home Come, Babe, you
rascal. Come home"
Obediently, but reluctantly, the bear
abandoned the feast and followed the
boy out the door and down Tho road.
1t was Babes first visit to the
school house, but by no means his last.
The tempting array of goodies in the
lunch baskets was too pleasant a pros
pect to be readily relinquished. Hard
ly week thereafter but he was un-
tremendously elected from the lobby,
repeated experiences which taught him
guile. He soon learned to steal nois-
lessly up the steps, slip through the
door, snatch a lunch from the pegs
and disappear unnoticed into the shrub
berry.
"You will have to do something
about the bear, father" protested Mrs.
Clayton. "For three years now the
teachers at the school have been com
planning about him. He is always get
ting out Of the barn, and they can t
keep the door at the school closed
these hot days Mike Dolan, one Of
the trustees, called today to see you
about it,"
ayes, IN afraid So" agreed her
husband. "He is three years old now
and ] notice that he is losing his play
fulness. A cub is all right, but full
grown bear Oh, well, ! suppose We
can sell him for good price to the
butcher Bear steaks are getting tc
be something Of rarity"