SWIMMING WITH A BEAR. 65

now, dropping down on all fours, with nose
close to the mossy butt of the log, it slowly
shuffled forward.

That boy was the stillest boy, all this
time, that has ever been. Pretty soon the
bear reached the clothes. He stopped, sat
down, nosed them about as a hog might,
and then slowly and lazily got up; but with
a singular sort of economy of old clothes,
for a bear, he did not push anything off
into the river.

What next? Would he come any farther?
Would he? Could he? Will he? The long,
sharp little nose was once more to the moss
and sliding slowly and surely toward the
poor boy’s naked shins. Then the boy shiv-
ered and settled down, down, down on his
haunches, with his little hands clasped till
he was all of a heap. ;

He tried to pray, but somehow or an-
_ other, all he could think of as he sat there
crouched down with all his clothes off was:

“Now I lay me down to sleep.”