wanted so much to know--if there were wild horses in America?

Yes, probably the Schoolmaster was a notorious seditionist. The all-wise
French Government has its ways, which like the ways of God are wonderful.

I had almost forgot The Bear--number two, not to be confused with the
seeker of cigarette-ends. A big, shaggy person, a farmer, talked about
"_mon petit jardin_," an anarchist, wrote practically all the time (to
the gentle annoyance of The Schoolmaster) at the queer-legged table;
wrote letters (which he read aloud with evident satisfaction to himself)
addressing "my confreres", stimulating them to even greater efforts,
telling them that the time was ripe, that the world consisted of
brothers, etc. I liked The Bear. He had a sincerity which, if somewhat
startlingly uncouth, was always definitely compelling. His French itself
was both uncouth and startling. I hardly think he was a dangerous bear.
Had I been the French Government I should have let him go berrying, as a
bear must and should, to his heart's content. Perhaps I liked him best
for his great awkward way of presenting an idea--he scooped it out of its
environment with a hearty paw in a way which would have delighted anyone
save _le gouvernement francais_. He had, I think,

VIVE LA LIBERTE

tattooed in blue and green on his big hairy chest. A fine bear. A bear
whom no twitchings at his muzzle nor any starvation nor yet any beating
could ever teach to dance ... but then, I am partial to bears. Of course
none of this bear's letters ever got posted--Le Directeur was not that
sort of person; nor did this bear ever expect that they would go
elsewhere than into the official waste-basket of La Ferte, which means
that he wrote because he liked to; which again means that he was