. . . It was a Swiss one, and lived in the Swiss capital, Berne.
One day it was playing on the edge of the bear-pit, and amidst its frolics grew heedless, and fell between the bars down into the den. The spectators were dismayed, and thought to see it cruelly murdered; but no. The kitten was not frightened. It bristled up as fiercely as possible in great wrath at the threats of Mr. Bruin, and the great bear was regularly taken aback, and instead of having his intended feast he marched off, leaving the little cat to do as it liked.
- Washington, United States
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