cried, with her face aglow, “pitty Bears! Booful, booful Bears!”

[Illustration: “Her little hand rested confidingly in his great paw.”]

“Pray, what does ‘booful’ mean?” I inquired in a low tone of the mother, as she put on Miranda’s shoes and stockings.

“It is early English for ‘beautiful,’” explained Mrs. Kirsten, her face white with pain.

Perceiving that it would be the truest kindness to the woman I had learned to love, I stole away. My keen scientific mind quickly grasped the possibility before me. Miranda might be of great use to me—so much was plain—but would it be right? Then I saw that I could not hope to cure Miranda’s malady until I had seen the working of it so often that I fully understood its character and scope. Happy, happy thought!

That afternoon, while Mrs. Kirsten slept the sleep of utter exhaustion, I told Miranda the story of Goldenhair and the Three Bears, and so won her childish affections forever. As yet, I dared not suggest my plan to Mrs. Kirsten, but I felt sure that the time would come when I might appropriately do so.

The next day I went out to the garbage heap, and settled myself comfortably under the tree nearest to it. I must have seen over two hundred Bears, but I was near enough to none of them to make the observations I desired. So, with the true Scientist’s fine disregard of inconvenience, I made an excavation in the top of the garbage heap, climbed in, and concealed myself as well as I might with the litter. I do not claim that it was pleasant, but it was unavoidable.

All day I saw Bears, meanwhile plying my camera and note-book vigorously. They came and went, but before night I was so familiar with the different individuals that I had named many of them and knew them all by sight. I saw nothing of Snoof and Snooflet, however, and began to wonder where they were keeping themselves.

Shortly after sunset, the Bears disappeared from the garbage heap, apparently with one accord. They moved so silently that I did not see any of them go away. I waited half an hour but none of them came back. Then I determined to extricate myself from my unsavoury predicament, but some sixth sense bade me wait a few moments longer.

Presently I saw the huge grizzly who was Miranda’s friend, cautiously limping toward the garbage heap, and my heart grew heavy with portent, for he was an ugly customer to meet without a 

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