“You are a very nice, good, little bear, and I think you will soon learn to dance,” said the man as he rubbed Dido on the head, and gave him some water to drink, after Dido had eaten the bread. “Yes, I must soon start teaching you to dance.”
Of course Dido did not understand this talk—that is not all of it, but he knew the man was speaking kindly to him, for he could tell by the way his voice sounded. Just as your dog can tell when you speak kindly to him, or when you are cross. If you speak nicely to your dog, and call him a good fellow, he will wag his tail, to show how glad he is. But when you are cross—Oh! how the dog’s tail drops down between his legs, and how sadly he looks up at you.
Of course Dido was not quite as tame as a dog, but he was beginning to learn that the man would not hurt him, and that he would be kind to him. So Dido thought he would be good himself, and not growl, bite or scratch.
For two or three days more Dido was kept in the barn, being chained to a post, with a leather
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 collar around his neck. Dido did not like this collar. He had never worn one before, and did not know what it was. In the woods bears never wear collars, any more than they do neckties. Of course, in a circus, a keeper, or trainer, might dress up a bear in real clothes, with a collar and tie, just for fun.
Dido did not like the collar around his neck, and he pawed and scratched, trying to get it off. It was fastened on too snugly, however, and would not come loose.
“Let it alone, Dido,” said the man who was to be the little bear cub’s keeper. “The collar will not hurt you, and I must keep it on so I can lead you around by a chain, or rope, when we go traveling, and you show the people how well you can dance.”
Dido did not understand all this talk, but when he found he could not get the collar off he stopped trying to loosen it. And he very soon found that, though it felt queer at first, it did not hurt him, just as the man had said.
Every day Dido was given nice things to eat—big chunks of bread, sometimes a bit of fish, and once he had a sweet bun with currants on top. Oh! that was very good!
“Well, it isn’t so bad being caught in a trap,” thought Dido, after a bit. “I have better things to eat here than I did in the den at home, and I
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 do not have to go after them. The man brings them to me. I guess men are not as bad as my papa and mamma thought.”
Of course Dido’s keeper was good to him, for the man wanted to train the little bear to dance, and you can not make wild animals learn anything except by being kind to them. But I suppose all men might not have been as good as the one who had caught Dido, so I guess the papa and mamma bear were right in being afraid of men, and in teaching their children bears to beware of the man-smell.
“Yes, I like it here very much,” thought Dido, as he walked around in the barn as far as his chain would let him, and ate a bit of sweet cracker which the man threw to him. “But I would like a swim in the cold blue lake.”
Then he remembered his brothers, Gruffo and Muffo, and Dido was lonesome and homesick. He wished very much that he might go back to the woods again, and run about under the trees, and perhaps find a honey-tree. If Dido had been a boy or girl I suppose he would have cried, but bears do not know how to do that, which, perhaps, is just as well. But, at any rate, Dido was lonesome, and most especially for the blue lake, for he did want to swim so he might make himself nice and clean.
And then, one day, Dido saw the big man and
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 the little man bringing in the barn a big tub. This they filled with water.
“Ha! Now the little bear can have a swim,” said the big man. “Jump in, Dido, and have a bath.”
Dido smelled the water. He lapped up some with his red tongue, and, though it was not quite as nice as the water of the blue lake high up in the mountains, still it was very good.
“Wuff!” cried Dido, which was his way of saying “Fine!” and then into the tub of water he jumped with a splash. Oh! how good it felt to be washed!
“Now come out in the sun and dry yourself,” said the big man, and he led Dido out of the barn by the chain. It was the first time Dido had been out in the open air since he had been caught. He could feel the warm wind blowing on him, he could see the sun and the green trees, for there were trees near the trainer’s barn, though not so many as in the woods.
Dido felt so jolly at being out in the air that he almost thought he was back in his own forest again, and as he remembered Gruffo and Muffo, and his father and mother, he wanted so much to see them that he started to run.
“Oh, ho! You mustn’t do that!” said the big man, kindly. “I don’t want you to run away from me!”
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And Dido could not run away, for he was held fast by the collar about his neck and the chain fastened to the collar. Dido ran as far as the chain would let him, and then he came to such a sudden stop that he turned a somersault, head over heels, as he used to do in front of the rocky den, when his mother would laugh at him.
The man had fastened the chain to a post in the barnyard and Dido could not get away. He felt a little choked and out of breath as he got up from having turned the somersault, and he looked at the man in a queer way, with his eyes partly shut.
“There, you see,” spoke the keeper. “You can’t get away, Dido, and you might as well learn that first as last. I don’t want you to go away, and I will be kind and good to you. I will feed you all you want to eat, and you will have a nice place to sleep—just as nice as you had in the woods. And when you learn to dance you and I will travel all around the country, and the people will give me pennies to see you do your tricks. So be a good little bear, and do not try to run away.”
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Into the tub of water he jumped with a splash.
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Dido, even yet, did not know all the man said, of course, but the little bear cub found he could not get away, so he sat down and looked around. It was good to be out of doors, anyhow. Then the man moved a sort of little house, like a dog kennel, up near Dido. This was for the bear to sleep in nights, or go in out of the rain. The little house was in the shade, but Dido’s chain was long enough so he could walk over in the sun to get dry after his bath.
“Yes, I think I shall like it here,” said Dido to himself, in the way bears have of talking. “I used to have lots of fun with my brothers in the woods, but we never had as many nice things to eat as I have here, and I have a little house all my own. Yes, I think I shall like it here, and I will not run away from the man.”
Dido was getting very tame, you see.
Dido had been living out of doors for about a week, chained to a post, going in his little house nights, and in that time several other men came to look at him. They talked with Dido’s keeper, and one man told about a big bear he had caught in the woods.
“My! I wonder if that could be my father or mother?” thought Dido, who, by this time, could understand man-talk a little better. But there was no way of knowing whether or not it was his father or mother who had been caught.
One day Dido’s master brought out some sweet buns, and said:
“Now I think it is time you learned to dance. Come, Dido, let me see if you know how. When
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 I blow a tune on my horn lift up your paws and dance around. Come now!”
The man loosed Dido’s chain from the post, and led the little bear cub out into a nice grassy place, where the sun shone through the trees. Then the keeper put a horn to his lips and blew a jolly tune on it. At first Dido was a bit frightened at the music, but soon he found it was not going to hurt him, and then he rather liked it. Nearly all animals like music, though the way some dogs howl when you blow on a mouth organ, or play a fiddle, is queer, I think. Perhaps the dogs think they are singing.
Anyhow, Dido liked the horn-music which the man blew, but still Dido did not know anything about dancing, although he stood up on his hind legs.
“But I will teach you,” said the man.
He tied one string on Dido’s left hind leg, and another string on his right leg. Then the man called to two boys to help him.
“Now when I blow the horn,” said the man, “first pull on one string and then on the other. That will pull Dido’s legs a little, and soon he will know that he must lift them up, first one, then the other. And pretty soon he will learn to do it without any strings—just by hearing the music.”
The man again blew on his horn, but Dido
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 did not dance. Then the little bear cub felt a pull on his left hind leg, as he was standing up straight, for he did not have to be taught to do this. And of course when Dido felt the pull on his leg he lifted it up.
“That’s the way!” cried the man, and he tooted a merry tune. “Now pull the other string, boy!”
The boy did, and Dido lifted up his other leg. Then came a pull on the one he had lifted before, and soon Dido was lifting first one hind leg, and then the other, going around in a circle as the man gently pulled him by the chain fastened to the collar.
All this while the man played music on the horn, and Dido liked it more and more. Soon he noticed that as the music went fast he was lifting his legs more quickly, and when the music played slowly his legs went slowly, too, the boys pulling the strings that way.
“He will learn to dance in a little while,” said the keeper.
For about an hour Dido had to lift first one foot then the other as the strings were pulled and the music played. Then he was allowed to rest and given a lump of sugar.
“Oh! how good that is!” thought Dido. “It is almost as nice as honey!”
The next day Dido practiced his dancing
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 again, with the strings on his legs. But this time he did better. And, at the end of his lesson, he was given more sugar. Soon Dido learned to know that when the horn played and his keeper cried “Dance!” that he must get up on his hind legs and circle around, lifting first one foot and then the other. And each time he danced Dido was given a lump of sugar.
And, finally, one day the man did not put the strings to Dido’s legs. He just led the little bear out by the chain, and blew the horn.
“Dance, Dido! Dance!” cried the man, playing jolly music.
And Dido danced, all by himself, and he liked it, too, for the music seemed to make him happy.
“Ah!” cried the man, “my little bear has learned to dance! Soon we will go traveling over the world together.”