“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 se............