Alice and Beatrice

								

move at first, though his master shook the chain and pulled him by it;
at last the man gave him a sharp blow with a whip he had, and told him
to begin dancing.
‘The poor tired bear stood up on his hind legs, and took the pole from
the man’s hand, and began to jump over it, but in a very clumsy manner.
The man kept calling to him in a sing-song manner, pulling often with
the chain, and giving him a smart cut with his whip: and the bear jumped
backwards and forwards over the pole, or, as the man called it,
danced, and grumbled and growled, for he seemed very cross and angry
that he was obliged to do all this when he was so very hot and tired. I
looked about to see where my good old dog Lion was all this time. Lion
was a splendid dog, something like an English mastiff, and something
like a lioness, and therefore I had named him “Lion.” He went out daily
with the herd of cattle into the fields and woods, and saved many of
them from being killed by the wolves. He was a brave dog, and I was very
fond of him.
‘And where do you think I found Lion now?—not running away and hiding
himself, like Pretty, in “the lady’s chamber,” but trying to make the
bear afraid of him.
‘For Lion walked slowly up close to the bear, then went round him twice,
looking at him well all the time, as if to say, “I am not in the least
afraid of you, Mr. Bear,” and then Lion lay down on the grass in the
shade, a little way off, but so that he should see him still, and went
to sleep, or pretended to do so. I dare say that the bear thought he had
better not go near such a brave dog, though he would have liked to give
Lion a good hug, and eat him up.
‘At last the Russian peasant seemed as hot and as tired as the bear, and
he asked for something to eat, and some spirits to drink. So I told a
servant to bring the man some black bread and some beer and a little
spirits, and I ordered some honey and some bread for the bear.’
‘Why did you give the poor man black bread, grandmamma?’ asked Alice.
‘In Russia, the servants and common people all eat black bread; the
white bread which we eat here is only made for the rich people to eat!’
‘But why is that, grandmamma?’
‘It is because wheat, of which our white bread is made, does not grow
nearly so well as rye in Russia and other cold countries: and rye makes
black bread. It is not so good as wheat bread; but some people like it,
and even prefer it.’
‘Please, Alice, let grandmamma tell us the story of Lion and the Bear,’
said Beatrice.
‘Well, my dear children, you would have been glad to see how the bear
liked the bread dipped in honey, and how he drank the spirits and the
beer; but the man did not give him much of either. Afterwards I gave the
man some money, and the poor tired bear walked after his master, as well
as he could, on his four feet. As soon as the bear was gone, out came
Pretty from my bedroom, and began to bark very furiously, as if he had