up and shakes his paws at me; but he is not a real live bear. He has to be wound up with a key before he will growl. We have live bears here in the woods, though: they come right into our yard, and eat our sheep. We set a trap for one last fall, close to the house, and a bear was caught in it.

I have a wax doll almost as large as a real baby. I have named it Gretchen. Cousin Mary brought it to me from Germany. It has flaxen curls, and six of the prettiest little pearl teeth, and it goes to sleep, and says papa and mamma, and whines, and cries. I wonder if any of you little girls have such a beautiful dolly.

My doll, Rosie Deben, is six years old, and almost as large as I am. I wash her whenever I like, and about once a year Auntie Peeps paints her face over. I like Rosie for an every-day doll, because I can wash her hands and face, and undress her, and if she tumbles out of her wagon it only bumps her head, and bruises her nose. She has tumbled down stairs ever so many times.

I have no little girls to play with; but there is a little boy who comes to see me sometimes: his name is Percy, and we go fishing down at the brook, and we catch little bits of fish with pin hooks.

I went to school last summer, and read in my "Nursery," and Nan said I learned nicely. There were only four scholars,—one for each corner of the room; and we had a little rocking-chair to sit in.

Nan thinks I have told you enough about my pets this time, and I will bid you good-by.