“don’t be afraid, little girl, we won’t let the bad dog hurt you,” said the man named george. “whose dog is he?”

“he—he belongs to a tin peddler,” said the little girl. “i was walking along the road just now and a boy, behind me, threw a stone at the dog. i guess the dog must have thought i threw it, for he chased after me, and i ran, for i was afraid he would bite me.”

“i guess he would have, if he had caught you,” remarked tom. “but dido knocked him out of the way.”

“is dido the name of your bear?” asked the girl.

“yes,” answered george. “dido is our bear.”

“it’s a pretty name,” said the little girl.

dido, who was watching to see if the dog would get up and run at the little girl again, wondered what her name was.

“so she likes my name,” said dido to himself. “i wonder if she likes me?”

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the bad dog got up from the pile of leaves where dido had knocked him. he growled, deep down in his throat, and dido called:

“be careful! don’t try any of your bad tricks around here. are you going to bite this little girl?”

“no, i am not,” said the dog. “i guess i made a mistake. i thought she threw a stone at me, but perhaps she did not.”

“she doesn’t look like a girl who would throw stones at a dog or a bear,” dido said. “you had better let her alone and go back where you belong.”

“i will,” said the dog, limping as he went away. “i am sorry i chased after her.”

“and i am sorry i had to hit you so hard with my paw,” spoke the dancing bear. “but it was the only way to stop you from jumping on the little girl.”

“yes, i suppose so. you made me a little lame, but i guess that could not be helped. it was my own fault, but i surely thought she threw a stone at me. good-by, mr. bear.”

“good-by, mr. dog,” answered dido. “next time we meet we shall be friends.”

“i hope so,” spoke the dog, limping away.

“oh, i am so glad he is gone!” the little girl said. “i was afraid of him.”

“where do you live?” asked tom, for of

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course the little girl could not talk to the bear.

“just down the road, but i have to go past that dog to get to my house,” she answered. “i am afraid.”

“never mind. we’ll walk with you,” said george, “and then the dog won’t come near you.”

of course neither the men nor the little girl knew that the peddler’s dog had promised to be good. they had seen dido and the dog close together, but they did not know of what they were talking.

“you are not afraid of our bear, are you?” asked tom, as he picked up the brass horn from where it had fallen in the moss as he slept.

“oh, no, i’m not a bit afraid of him,” answered the little girl, looking at dido. “he seems a nice, gentle bear.”

“he is,” said george. “would you like to see him do some tricks?”

“oh, very much!” cried the little girl, clapping her hands. “will he do some tricks for me?”

“i guess so,” answered george with a laugh. “do some tricks for the little girl you saved from the dog, dido. play a tune, tom!”

so tom played a tune on the brass horn, and dido danced there in the woods, with only the little girl for an audience. but dido did his

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best, even though there was only one person to look on, besides tom and george.

“oh, what a funny trick!” laughed the little girl, whose name was rose, as she saw dido turn a somersault. dido did not mind turning head over heels in the woods, for he could do it on the soft green moss, and his fur did not get full of dust.

“now we will walk down the road to your home,” said george to the little girl. “then you will not be afraid of the dog.”

but when they went out in the country road the peddler’s wagon was gone, and the dog was not in sight.

“there’s my house,” said the little girl, pointing to a white one down the highway.

just then a woman came to the door of the house, and, looking down the road, she saw her little girl walking with two men and a bear.

“oh, my goodness, rose! what are you doing?” cried the woman, who was the mother of rose. “where have you been? and what is that terrible bear doing?”

“he isn’t a terrible bear at all, mamma,” answered rose, laughing. “he is a good trick bear, and he saved me from the bad dog.” and she told about what had happened.

“well, if it’s a tame, trick bear, why i suppose that is different,” said the woman. “i’m much

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obliged to you,” she added to the men, “for having your bear save my little girl from the peddler’s dog.”

“dido did it all himself,” said george. “we were asleep when your rose came running along with the dog after her. dido knocked him out of the way.”

“he must be a good bear,” said rose’s mother.

“he is!” cried the little girl. “you ought to see him do tricks, mamma! will you let your bear do some tricks for my mother?” she asked.

“surely,” answered george. “come on now, dido!”

so dido did most of his tricks again, and when they were finished the woman brought out some sugar cookies and other things, giving some to the men and some to dido.

“oh, how good they are!” thought the dancing bear, chewing a cookie. “they are as good as the buns with raisins in which the other lady gave me.”

“come, now, we must travel on,” called george to dido, after a bit. “it is very nice here, but we must go to a place where we can get money in the hat when you do your tricks.”

so off started the two men with the dancing bear once more. for several days they traveled, first stopping in one country village and then in another, dido doing his tricks very nicely.

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then for two days it rained, and as no one wanted to stand out in the rain to see even a dancing bear there was nothing to do save to stay in barns, or under sheds, until the weather cleared.

for george and tom did not stop at hotels very often as they traveled about with dido. in the first place it cost too much money, and as the weather was warm, and as george and tom were sort of gypsies they liked to sleep out of doors nights, except when it rained. then they would find a haystack, or a barn, and get shelter.

another reason they did not stop at hotels was because people who kept them did not like bears in their places. dido would have had to stay out in the stable, and some horses are afraid of bears.

so it was not so nice for the men when it rained, though dido did not mind. his fur was so thick that it took a lot of rain to wet him through, and he was fond of water anyhow.

but when it rained, and there was no one to watch dido do his tricks, of course no money came into the hat, and when there were no pennies there was not so much to eat. so you see, after all, rain is not any too good for a dancing bear.

but after a while the clouds rolled away, the sun came out and dido and his masters were

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glad. once more they started off down the country roads, tom tooting on the horn and george putting dido through his tricks.

one day after dido had done his dance in the streets of a small city his two masters saw another man, like themselves. this man had a hand-organ and a monkey, and he went about making music while the monkey collected pennies in his red hat. tom and george stopped for a minute to talk to the hand-organ man, whom they had known years before.

“what is your name?” asked dido of the monkey, when they found their masters paying no attention to them.

“jacko,” answered the monkey. “what’s yours?”

“dido; and i can dance. can you?”

“no, but i can gather pennies in my hat. can you do that?”

dido said he could not. he did not have a hat, anyhow. the bear and monkey talked together, just as their masters were doing, but in a different way of course. then jacko said:

“i have a cousin, a monkey named mappo. did you ever see him?”

“no,” replied dido, “but i have met don, the runaway dog, and tum tum, the jolly elephant.”

“why, mappo, my cousin, knows them!” cried

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jacko. “i have often heard him speak of them. mappo is such a merry monkey. he had many adventures, and they have all been put in a book.”

“my! it seems every one is getting in books,” said dido. “i hope to have one written about me. but say! i’m hungry, aren’t you?”

“yes, i am,” answered jacko.

“my master always feeds me buns after i finish my tricks,” went on the dancing bear, “but i guess he is so busy talking now that he has forgotten it.”

“i wish we could get something to eat,” spoke jacko. “oh, look, dido, there’s a bakery store over there, and i see buns and cake in the window, besides cookies.”

“so there are!” said dido.

“let’s go over and see if they will give us any,” went on the monkey who was a cousin to mappo. “my chain is loose, and i can easily run over there.”

“my chain is loose, too,” said dido. “come on, we’ll go over to the bakery and perhaps we can find some buns.”

across the street went dido and jacko. their masters were so busy talking about their travels that they did not notice the two animals. and, as it happened, the boy who had been left in charge of the bakery had gone out to watch the

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dancing bear, and he was now standing looking at the hand-organ, and wishing he had one like it. so he did not see dido and the monkey go in the bakery.

the dancing bear and the monkey went in the bakery. no one else was there. in the window was a pile of cakes and buns.

“oh, i am so hungry!” said dido.

“so am i!” cried jacko.

“i’ll tell you what let’s do,” said dido. “let’s take some buns, and when our masters get through talking they will come in and pay for them.”

“all right,” said jacko, and he reached over in the bakery window and took a paw full of buns. dido did the same thing, and then the bear and the monkey began to eat.