The Youth's Companion, by
Various
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Title: The Youth's Companion Volume LII, Number 11, Thursday,
March 13, 1879
Author: Various
Release Date: August 5, 2007 [EBook #22242]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
YOUTH'S COMPANION ***
Produced by Richard Halsey
The Youth's Companion
Volume LII. Number 11 Thursday, March 13, 1879.
Perry Mason & Co., Publishers No. 41 Temple Place Boston
[Illustration (masthead-yc-1)]
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
For the Companion.
THE HOSTLER'S STORY.
By J. T. Trowbridge.
What amused us most at the Lake House last summer was the
performance of a bear in the back yard.
He was fastened to a pole by a chain, which gave him a range of a
dozen or fifteen feet. It was not very safe for visitors to come within
that circle, unless they were prepared for rough handling.
He had a way of suddenly catching you to his bosom, and picking your
pockets of peanuts and candy,--if you carried any about you,--in a
manner which took your breath away. He stood up to his work on his
hind legs in a quite human fashion, and used paw and tongue with
amazing skill and vivacity. He was friendly, and didn't mean any harm,
but he was a rude playfellow.
I shall never forget the ludicrous adventures of a dandified New Yorker
who came out into the yard to feed bruin on seed-cakes, and did not
feed him fast enough.
He had approached a trifle too near, when all at once the bear whipped
an arm about him, took him to his embrace, and "went through" his
pockets in a hurry. The terrified face of the struggling and screaming
fop, and the good-natured, businesslike expression of the fumbling and
munching beast, offered the funniest sort of contrast.
The one-eyed hostler, who was the bear's especial guardian, lounged
leisurely to the spot.
"Keep still, and he won't hurt ye," he said, turning his quid. "That's one
of his tricks. Throw out what you've got, and he'll leave ye."
The dandy made haste to help bruin to the last of the seed-cakes, and
escaped without injury, but in a ridiculous plight,--his hat smashed, his
necktie and linen rumpled, and his watch dangling; but his fright was
the most laughable part of all.
The one-eyed hostler made a motion to the beast, who immediately
climbed the pole, and looked at us from the cross-piece at the top.
"A bear," said the one-eyed hostler, turning his quid again, "is the
best-hearted, knowin'est critter that goes on all-fours. I'm speakin' of
our native black bear, you understand. The brown bear aint half so
respectable, and the grizzly is one of the ugliest brutes in creation.
Come down here, Pomp!"
Pomp slipped down the pole and advanced towards the one-eyed
hostler, walking on his hind legs and rattling his chain.
"Playful as a kitten!" said the one-eyed hostler, fondly. "I'll show ye."
He took a wooden bar from a clothes-horse near by, and made a lunge
with it at Pomp's breast.
No pugilist or fencing-master could have parried a blow more neatly.
Then the one-eyed hostler began to thrust and strike with the bar as if in
downright earnest.
"Rather savage play," I remarked. And a friend by my side, who never
misses a chance to make a pun, added,---
"Yes, a decided act of bar-bear-ity."
[Illustration (bear-1) The Hostler's Story]
"Oh, he likes it!" said the one-eyed hostler. "Ye can't hit him."
And indeed it was so. No matter how or where the blow was aimed, a
movement of Pomp's paw, quick as a flash of lightning, knocked it
aside, and he stood good-humoredly waiting for more.
"Once in a while," said the one-eyed hostler, resting from the exercise
and leaning on the bar, while Pomp retired to his pole, "there's a bear of
this species that's vicious and blood-thirsty. Generally, you let them
alone and they'll let you alone. They won't run from you maybe, but
they won't go out of their way to pick a quarrel. They don't swagger
round with a chip on their shoulder lookin' for some fool to knock it
off."
"Will they eat you?" some one inquired; for there was a ring of
spectators around the performers by this time.
"As likely as not, if they are sharp-set, and you lay yourself out to be
eaten; but it aint their habit
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