A RAMBLER RECEPTION DAY A white bulldog of ferocious aspect lay sound asleep under a small table. Lying across the dog’s neck, with his soft muzzle hidden between capable paws, was a quarter-grown grizzly bear. Now and then Captain Joe, as the dog was named, stirred uneasily in his sleep, as if in remonstrance at the liberties which Teddy, the cub, was taking with his person. The bulldog and the cub snored in unison! The table under which the animals slept stood in the middle of the small cabin of the motor boat Rambler, and the Rambler was pulling at her anchor chain in the muddy water of the Mississippi river—pulling and jerking for all the world like a fat pig with a ring in his nose trying to get rid of the line which held him in captivity. Although early in November, there were wandering flakes of snow in the air, and a chill wind from the northwest was sweeping over the Mississippi valley. There had been several days of continuous rain, and, at Cairo, where the motor boat lay, both the Mississippi and the Ohio rivers were out of their banks. In spite of the wind and snow, however, the cabin of the Rambler was cozy and warm. In front of the table where the bulldog and the young bear lay stood a coal stove, on the top of which two boys of sixteen, Clayton Emmett and Alexander Smithwick, were cooking ham and eggs, the appetizing flavor of which filled the little room. A dish of sliced potatoes stood not far away, and over the cherry-red coils of an electric stove at the rear of the cabin a great pot of coffee was sizzling and adding its fragrance to rich contributions of the frying pan