within his reach,--fish, stewed fruits, goose fat, bread, boiled
cabbage, and beer,--the idiot grinning with delight all the while,
and singing, "Ne uyesjai golubchik moi," (Don't go away, my
little pigeon), between the handfuls which he crammed into his
mouth. The guests roared with laughter, especially when a juggler
or Calmuck stole out from under the gallery, and pretended to have
designs upon the basin. Mishka, the bear, had also been well fed,
and greedily drank ripe old Malaga from the golden dish. But,
alas! he would not dance. Sitting up on his hind legs, with his
fore paws hanging before him, he cast a drunken, languishing eye
upon the company, lolled out his tongue, and whined with an almost
human voice. The domestics, secretly incited by the Grand Marshal,
exhausted their ingenuity in coaxing him, but in vain. Finally,
one of them took a goblet of wine in one hand, and, embracing
Mishka with the other, began to waltz. The bear stretched out his
paw and clumsily followed the movements, whirling round and round
after the enticing goblet. The orchestra struck up, and the
spectacle, though not exactly what Prince Alexis wished, was
comical enough to divert the company immensely.

But the close of the performance was not upon the programme. The
impatient bear, getting no nearer his goblet, hugged the man
violently with the other paw, striking his claws through the thin
shirt. The dance-measure was lost; the legs of the two tangled,
and they fell to the floor, the bear undermost. With a growl of
rage and disappointment, he brought his teeth together through the
man's arm, and it might have fared badly with the latter, had not
the goblet been refilled by some one and held to the animal's nose.

Then, releasing his hold, he sat up again, drank another bottle,