Cuffy went out of doors then and thought and thought and thought. I'm almost ashamed to have to say it—he was planning to go down to Farmer Green's and get another fat, tender, little pig like the one his father had brought home.
Now, when a very young bear starts out to steal a pig there are many things to think of. In the first place, there was Farmer Green, and Farmer Green's boy Johnnie, and Farmer Green's hired man. Cuffy knew that he must be very, very careful not to meet them.
To his great relief, when he had gone down into Pleasant Valley Cuffy saw all three ploughing in a field. They did not see him at all. And so he felt very brave as he went on toward the farm buildings.
Farmer Green's pig-pen was in a little, low building next the cow-barn. Cuffy had no trouble in finding it. And he walked inside quite boldly and before you could have winked, almost, he had seized a little, white pig in his mouth and was loping off across the barnyard.
The pig had looked very small to Cuffy when he first saw and seized it. But now it seemed to be as many as twenty times bigger than Cuffy was himself. That was because the pig made the most frightful noise Cuffy had ever heard in all his life. Cuffy felt as if he had a hundred pigs in his mouth, with their hundred snouts squealing right in his ears. Though Farmer Green was at least a mile away, Cuffy was sure he could hear. Indeed, Cuffy thought that all the world must hear that dreadful racket. And he was so frightened that he let go of the little pig and ran away towards home as fast as he could jump.
That squealing rang in his ears for a long time. And if Cuffy's father had brought home a pig that night Cuffy couldn't have eaten a mouthful of it. He never wanted to see or taste of a pig again. And you may be sure he never wanted to hear one, either.
After Cuffy Bear's adventure with Mrs. Eagle he did not stray far from home for several weeks. You can see, from that, that he had been badly frightened. Yes—just to look at a crow flapping through the air made Cuffy dizzy now; and nothing would have tempted him to go up the mountain again.
But Cuffy became very tired of playing near his father's house all the time. And at last he wandered down into the valley one day. There was something down there that Cuffy wanted to see. You'd never guess what it was; so I'll tell you. Cuffy Bear wanted to see a mowing-machine. You may think that was queer. But you see, it was summer now. And down in the valley Farmer Green was making hay as fast as ever he could. Early and late there sounded far up the mountainside the click-clack-click-clack of Farmer Green's mowing-machine.
When he first heard it Cuffy Bear had been very much alarmed; and he had come running into the house in a great fright. But his mother explained what the sound was. And after that Cuffy had been very curious to see that wonderful machine, which was pulled back and forth through the meadows by horses, leaving behind it a broad path of grass which lay flat on the ground.
So that was the reason why Cuffy stole away from home. He felt that he simply must see a mowing-machine. Nothing but the sight of a mowing-machine would make him happy. He was sure of that.
Now, where Farmer Green's meadow met the forest, Cuffy paused. He hid behind a tree and looked out over the field. The click-clack sounded quite loud now. And from the other side of the meadow Cuffy could see two horses coming towards him. There was a man driving them. And Cuffy thought that they must be drawing the mowing-machine. So he waited quietly. And all the time the click-clack-click-clack grew louder than ever. And pretty soon, as he peeped slyly around the tree, Cuffy Bear saw the mowing-machine. It came delightfully close to him, stopped, turned about, and moved away again toward the opposite side of the field.
Cuffy gave a great sigh of satisfaction. He had seen a mowing-machine. He was glad that he had come down into the valley. He was not the least bit sorry that he had disobeyed his parents and stolen away from home.
Yes, Cuffy was feeling very happy as he went prowling along the border of the forest. He crept in and out of the bushes that fringed the hay-field, and was having altogether a most pleasant time; until all at once he stopped short. Cuffy's nose sniffed the air for a moment, and the hairs on his back bristled just like those on a dog when he is startled. Cuffy had caught a strange odor in the air.
At first he was frightened. But after he had sniffed the air a few times he decided that whatever it was that he smelled, it had a good, pleasant odor, and made him think of something to eat.
So Cuffy Bear began to nose about among the bushes. And presently he discovered, hidden away beneath a clump of ferns, a basket of delicious food. It was the haymakers' lunch that Cuffy had found. And he lost no time. He began to eat as fast as he could. Yes—I am very sorry to say that Cuffy actually gobbled Farmer Green's lunch. And he was so greedy that a strange thing happened to him.
Cuffy Bear found many good things in Farmer Green's lunch basket. He bolted all the bread-and-butter, and the doughnuts; and he found the custard pie to be about as enjoyable as any dainty he had ever tasted. And then, with his little black face all smeared with streaks of yellow custard, Cuffy began to poke a small iron pot which stood in one corner of the big basket. Presently the pot tipped over, its cover fell off, and soon Cuffy was devouring the daintiest dish of all! Baked beans! Of course, he didn't know the name of those delicious, brown, mealy kernels. But that made no difference at all to Cuffy. So long as he liked what he was eating the name of it never troubled him. The only thing that annoyed Cuffy now was that the pot was not bigger. There were still a few beans which clung to the bottom; and try as he would, Cuffy could not reach them, even with his tongue.
He was sitting on the ground, with the pot between his legs, and his nose stuck into it as far as Cuffy could get it. But still he could not reach those beans in the bottom. And pretty soon Cuffy began to lose his temper. He stood up and gave a good, hard push against the ground. And so he managed to squeeze his nose a little further into the bean-pot. And now, to his huge delight, he could just reach the bottom of the pot with his long under-lip. In a twinkling Cuffy had all the beans in his mouth. And he would have grinned—he felt so happy—if his nose hadn't been wedged so tightly into the pot that he couldn't even smile.
Since there were no more beans to be had out of that pot, Cuffy lifted his head. And to his great astonishment the bean-pot came right up off the ground too, almost as if it were alive. It startled Cuffy, until he saw that it was he who lifted the pot, on his own nose.
He seized the bean-pot and pulled. But his paws were so greasy with butter that he couldn't get a good grip on it. The pot still stuck on his nose as fast as ever.
Cuffy grunted. He couldn't really have said anything, with his mouth deep in the iron pot. So he just grunted in a pouting sort of way; and then he gave the pot a sharp rap against a rock. That hurt his nose. And this time he growled—as well as he could. But all his grunting and growling didn't frighten the bean-pot the slightest bit. There it stayed, perched on his nose just as if it would never come off.
All this time the mowing-machine kept up a click-clack-click-clack! And Cuffy thought that he had better get out of sight. So he plunged into the forest and started toward home. He felt very uncomfortable, for he began to wonder whether he would ever get rid of that troublesome pot. What puzzled him most was this thought: How would he ever be able to eat again, with that horrid thing over his nose? Cuffy was very fond of riddles; but here was one that he did not like at all.
When he reached home his father and mother and Silkie all laughed so hard at the sight of him that Cuffy began to whimper. And a big tear rolled from each eye, ran down the bean-pot, and dropped off the bottom of it.
And then, with just one tug Mr. Bear pulled the bean-pot off his son's nose; and Cuffy was himself again.
He escaped a punishing, too, that time. And Mrs. Bear was very glad to get such a nice iron pot. She had wanted one for a long time.
It was a very hot summer's day. Even up on Blue Mountain Cuffy Bear felt the heat. And he wished that he might get rid of his thick coat. But though Cuffy was beginning to believe himself a very wise little bear, he could think of no way to slip off his heavy black fur. So he sat down in the shade of a big tree, where the breeze blew upon him, and tried to be as cool as he could.
Except when he was asleep it was not often that Cuffy was still for so long. But now he sat motionless for some time, with his bright red tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog's. Yes, he was quite still—all but his little, beady, bright eyes. They kept moving about all the time. And they saw many things, for something or other is always happening in the forest.
Cuffy saw a gray squirrel stick its head up from the crotch of a tree nearby and peep at him. And he watched a wary old crow as he rested high in a tree-top and cawed a greeting to some of his friends who were flying past on their way to Farmer Green's cornfield. And Cuffy noticed a bee as it lighted on a wild-flower right in front of him and sucked the sweetness out of it. But Cuffy didn't pay much attention to that. And since he soon began to feel cooler he was just wondering what he would do next when it occurred to him that several bees had lighted upon the flowers near him, and that they had all flown off in the same direction.
All at once Cuffy forgot how hot and uncomfortable he had been; for now he was wondering if those bees weren't all of them flying home to make honey out of the sweet juices they had drawn from the flowers. And if they were—and if he could only follow them—then he would find the tree where they lived and he could have all the honey he wanted to eat.
So Cuffy followed on a little way in the direction in which the bees had disappeared. And then he sat down again and waited and watched very carefully.
For a long time nothing happened. And Cuffy was just about to give up his plan when a bee came buzzing past him and lighted on a mulberry blossom right above his head. And when the bee flew away, Cuffy followed him until he lost sight of him. And then Cuffy sat down once more. Again he waited and watched. And again, just as he was getting discouraged, another bee flew past him and Cuffy jumped up and followed him just as fast as he could.
Cuffy Bear must have spent as much as two hours doing that same thing over and over again. But he didn't mind that. In fact, it didn't seem long to him, at all, because he kept thinking of honey all the time, and it made a sort of game of what he was doing. If he won the game, you know, it meant that he was going to have something very nice for a prize.
And sure enough, finally one of the bees Cuffy was following lighted on an old tree, and Cuffy saw him crawl into a hole in a queer nest which hung from a limb, and vanish. And as Cuffy stood there, looking up at the nest, he saw as many as seven bees come out of that hole and fly away.
Then Cuffy smiled all over his face, he felt so happy. At last he had found a bee-tree. There was no doubt about it. The time he had always wished for had come. He was going to have all the honey he could eat.
As Cuffy Bear stood there on his hind legs looking up at the nest in the old tree he saw so many bees come out and fly away that he thought that there could not be any bees left at home—at least, not more than a half-dozen. And Cuffy didn't believe that six bees would trouble him. There was one good thing in having a coat like his, he told himself: even if it was warm in summer, it was so thick that he didn't see how a bee could sting him through it.
And with that, Cuffy started to climb the old tree. It took him no time at all to hitch himself up the trunk. He shinned up just as any little boy would climb a tree. And in less time than it takes to tell it, Cuffy had reached the limb from which the nest hung, and he had stuck his paw right through the side of it.
You remember that something is always happening in the forest? Well—something happened now. Suddenly a terrible roar came from inside the nest. It was a queer, far-off sort of sound, and it made Cuffy think of the noise Swift River made, where it tumbled over the falls. But Cuffy knew that there could be no water-fall inside the nest. He wondered if there was some strange animal in there.... And he drew back his paw very quickly. And then there came pouring out of the nest a perfect cloud of bees, every one of them buzzing as loud as ever he could.
Cuffy was startled at the sight. And he was more startled when they flew right into his face and lighted on his nose and began to sting.
Cuffy roared with the pain. Yes—he gave such a great roar that he couldn't hear the bees at all. But the bees didn't seem to mind that. They weren't afraid. They just kept on stinging. And they went for Cuffy's eyes, too. And some of them even crawled down his ears. That was the worst of all.
Just for a few moments Cuffy slapped at the bees. And he tried to brush them off his face. But as fast as he swept them away from one spot they settled on another. And Cuffy felt exactly as if somebody was sticking him with pins and needles. He forgot all about taking any of the honey to eat. He only wanted to get away from those bees. So he began to slide down the tree.
But Cuffy soon saw that the bees intended to go right along with him. They seemed to have no idea at all of staying at home, and as he scrambled down the tree Cuffy thought very quickly. He hadn't put a paw on the ground before he knew what he was going to do. Cuffy Bear ran straight for the brook that goes tumbling down Blue Mountain to meet Swift River.
As Cuffy Bear tore through the forest, with the bees clustering all about his head, he thought he never would reach the brook. He was going straight for the deep pool, which he had often visited in order to watch the speckled trout darting about in the clear water.
Now and then Cuffy paused in his mad rush, to bury his face in the thick blanket of dead leaves that covered the ground. But just as soon as he raised his head the bees would settle on his face again. And Cuffy would rush off once more as fast as he could go.
At last he came to the brook. And he leaped right off the big boulder that hung high over the pool and landed ker-splash! right in the middle of it. How the water did fly in all directions! And Cuffy went right down out of sight.
Of course, the bees wouldn't go down into the water too. They knew they'd be drowned if they did. So they lingered in a swarm above the water. They hovered there in the air and waited. And when, after a moment, Cuffy's head came up out of the pool, they swooped down and began to sting him again.
Cuffy promptly ducked his head. And he swam under water to the further side of the pool and came up once more. To his surprise the bees were right there waiting for him. And he ducked under again, and swam to the opposite side, near the big boulder. And once more, when he came up to breathe, he found the buzzing bees all ready to pounce upon his nose.
So poor Cuffy had to keep pulling his head down into the pool. He would keep it there just as long as he could hold his breath; and then he would simply have to stick his nose out of the water in order to draw some fresh air into his lungs.
It was not long before Cuffy became very tired from so much swimming. So he found a shallow place where he could stand on the bottom of the brook, with just enough water to cover him, and where he could poke his nose out whenever he had to. And just as often as his little black nose came up above the surface of the pool the bees lighted on it and stung Cuffy again.
All the rest of the afternoon poor Cuffy had to stay there in the water. For the bees did not leave him until sundown. And then, when the last one had gone, Cuffy crawled out of the brook and started toward home. His little round body and his sturdy little legs were not warm now, as they had been when he sat down beneath the tree to get cool. For the mountain brook was ice-cold; and Cuffy felt quite numb from standing in it so long. But cold as he was, his face felt like fire. And for some reason, which Cuffy couldn't understand, he could hardly see to pick his way through the shadows of the forest.
When Cuffy Bear reached home, after his adventure with the bees, he found that his father and mother and his sister Silkie were just sitting down to their evening meal. Cuffy didn't speak to them as he came into the room where they were. He felt too miserable to say a word, with his face aching and burning, and a terrible smarting in his eyes. So he just stumbled inside the room and tried to make himself as small as he could, so he wouldn't be noticed.
Cuffy's parents and his little sister all looked at the little bear who had come into their house without even a knock. And his father said, in a cross voice—
"Go away, little bear. Where are your manners?"
Cuffy didn't know what to make of that. He didn't know what his father meant. So he just stood there and stared.
"What do you want?" his father asked him. "Whose little bear are you? And whatever is the matter with your face?"
Actually, Cuffy's own father didn't know him. And neither did his mother or his sister. You see, Cuffy's face was so swollen from the bees' stings that his face did not look like a little bear's face at all. His nose, instead of being smooth and pointed, was one great lump. And he hadn't a sign of an eye—just two slits.
"What's the matter with you?" Mr. Bear asked again. "Are you ill? Have you the black measles?"
At that, Mrs. Bear rose hastily from the table and snatched Silkie up from her high-chair and took her right out of the room. The thought of black measles frightened Mrs. Bear. You know, they are ever so much worse than plain measles. And she was afraid Silkie would catch them.
Well, poor Cuffy felt more miserable than ever. He saw that his own family didn't know him. And he wondered what was going to become of him. Then, when his father told him very sternly to leave his house at once, Cuffy began to cry.
"Oh! oh! oh!" he sobbed. "It's me—it's only me!" he cried. That very morning, at breakfast, his father had told him to say "It is I," instead of "It is me." But Cuffy forgot all about that, now.
"What! Are you my Cuffy?" his father exclaimed. For he knew Cuffy at last. You see, the bees hadn't stung Cuffy's voice. And in no time at all Cuffy was tucked into his little bed and his mother was gently licking his poor, aching face with her tongue. Among bears that is thought to be the very best thing to do for bee-stings.
After a while Cuffy stopped crying. And it was not long before he had fallen asleep.
But it was two days before Cuffy Bear felt really himself again. And then his father went off into the forest with him and Cuffy led the way to the bee-tree; for Mr. Bear knew enough about bees so that he could take their honey away from them without getting stung badly. He didn't mind just a few stings, you know.
Well—what do you think happened? When they came to the old tree Mr. Bear took just one look at the nest into which Cuffy had thrust his paw. And then he began to laugh, though he was somewhat disappointed, as you will see.
"Those aren't bees!" he told Cuffy. "That's a hornets' nest!... We'd get no honey there."
One day late in the summer Cuffy Bear went blackberrying. And on his way home he stopped at the deep pool where the hornets had chased him. He stayed there for a little while to watch the speckled trout as their bright sides flashed out of the depths of the clear water. As Cuffy stood on the big boulder and looked down, he could see himself quite plainly, reflected in the still surface of the water. He waved a paw. And the little bear in the brook waved his paw too. Of course Cuffy knew that it was himself he saw. But he pretended for a time that it was some other little bear who was playing with him. And he was having lots of fun.
You see, Mr. Bear's family was the only bear family for miles and miles around. And Cuffy often wished he had other little boy-bears to play with. To be sure, he had his sister, Silkie. But she was a girl, and younger than he was, besides.
Well! Cuffy danced a jig on the top of the big boulder. And the little bear down below danced a jig, too. And Cuffy waved his paw again at the little bear in the water. And once more the little bear in the water waved a paw at him. It was great sport. And then Cuffy happened to look up.
To his great surprise, there stood a little bear on the other bank of the brook, right opposite. Cuffy was astonished. The other little bear and the little bear in the brook looked as much alike as two peas. Cuffy had never known that he could see a picture of himself by looking anywhere except into water. It was very strange, he thought. He waved a paw. And the little bear on the other bank waved his paw. Cuffy kicked up one of his hind legs. And the other little bear kicked up, too.
Cuffy was puzzled. Was it really himself he was looking at? He nodded his head. And the other little bear nodded his head.
Then Cuffy tried something else. He stared very hard at the little bear opposite him, and called "Hello!"
"Hello, yerself!" the other little bear said. And then Cuffy knew that it was a real, live boy-bear over there, and not just a reflection of himself. Cuffy was so delighted that he jumped down off the boulder and splashed through the brook, he was in such a hurry to get over there where the strange bear stood.
"What's yer name?" the strange bear asked.
Cuffy told him. And he learned that the strange bear's name was Peter, and that he lived around on the other side of Blue Mountain, as many as ten miles away.
"Aw—call me Pete," the new bear said, as Cuffy began to talk to him. "They all calls me Pete." He stuffed his front paws into the pockets of his ragged trousers. "Say, Cuff—what was yer doin' up on that rock?"
"Playing!" Cuffy told him.
Pete gave a grunt. "That's no way ter play," he said. "I'll show yer how ter have fun. Watch me!" He led the way to the bank. And sitting down, he slid and rolled all the way down the steep slope and landed plump! in the deep pool.
Now, Cuffy was not going to have Pete think that he couldn't do that, too. Although he was wearing his best trousers that day (for his mother was mending his every-day pair), Cuffy sat down on the top of the bank. And in another moment he had slid and slipped down the bank and landed ker-splash! in the water.
For some time Cuffy Bear and his new friend Pete, as he preferred to be called, continued to slide down the bank of the brook into the water. They became plastered with mud from head to foot. And Cuffy's best trousers had two big holes in them. But Cuffy was having a splendid time.
"Let's box, Cuff!" Pete exclaimed, after a while.
"What's that?" Cuffy asked. He liked to be called "Cuff." Nobody had ever called him by that name before. He felt quite grown up.
"I'll show yer," Pete said. "Stand up in front of me."
Cuffy stood up on his hind legs.
"Now, hold up yer paws—so."
And Cuffy did as he was told.
"Now hit me!" Pete ordered.
And Cuffy struck out at his new friend. But to his surprise he didn't succeed in touching Pete at all. Instead, he received a stinging slap right on the end of his nose.
Cuffy didn't like that. In fact, it made him somewhat angry. And he struck out at Pete once more. But Pete dodged; and he gave Cuffy a good, hard blow in the eye. And while Cuffy was holding onto his poor eye, Pete hit his other eye. And then Cuffy couldn't see a thing, except bright spots that made him think of stars. He tried not to cry. But a few tears would go rolling down his cheeks. And he did not like it at all when Pete began to laugh.
"Huh! Don't be a cry-baby!" Pete said. "Yer want ter learn ter box, don't yer?"
"Y-es!" Cuffy answered.
"Well—quit yer cryin' and stand up here, then," Pete commanded.
So once more Cuffy straightened up and held his paws in front of him. And when he thought Pete wasn't watching, Cuffy tried again to hit him. Again Cuffy missed. His paw didn't reach Pete at all. But Pete gave him a terrible poke right in the stomach, and Cuffy sat down quickly on the ground and began to groan.
Pete sat down on the ground too and he looked at Cuffy and grinned.
"Want any more?" he asked.
Cuffy shook his head.
"I'll have to go home now," he said. "Of course, I'd like to box some more; but I haven't time to-day."
"First lesson's over, then," Pete announced. "Come back termorrer and I'll give yer another."
"How long will it be before I learn to box well?" Cuffy inquired.
"You might learn next time," Pete said, "Better try it, anyhow," he advised.
"All right!" Cuffy said. He hoped that another time he would be able to show Pete how it felt to be pounded. "All right—I'll be here at the same time to-morrow."
So Pete trotted off spryly in one direction; and Cuffy trotted off in another, but not quite so spryly, for his head ached and one of his eyes was closed tight.
"Mercy sakes!" Mrs. Bear said, when Cuffy came into the house. "Look at those trousers!"
Cuffy looked at them as well as he could with his one good eye.
"And you're covered with mud!" his mother added severely. "What's the matter with your eye?" she demanded.
"I've been having fun—" Cuffy began. "I've been boxing—"
"Fun! Boxing! You've ruined your best trousers," she said. "You're a naughty little bear and you're going straight to bed. Who has been playing with you?" she asked.
Mrs. Bear was very much displeased when she learned about Cuffy's new friend. "I know who he is," she said. "His people are very rough. They're not nice bears at all. And I forbid you aver to play with that Peter again."
So Cuffy had to go to bed. And the next day when Pete arrived at the pool he found no Cuffy there. For some time he waited. But still there was no Cuffy.
"Huh!" Pete grunted, as he went away at last. "He's afraid, he is. And it's a good thing for him he didn't come back. If he had, I'd 'a' fixed him. Yes, sir! I'd—" Whatever it was that Peter would have done to Cuffy, I am sure it wouldn't have been at all pleasant, because the rough little bear Peter scowled frightfully as he trotted off.
It was quite late in the fall. And Blue Mountain looked very different from the way it had looked all summer. The leaves had turned to brown and yellow and scarlet, except where there were clumps of fir-trees, as there were around Mr. Bear's house. Indeed, Blue Mountain looked almost as if it were all aflame, so bright were the autumn colors. Mr. Bear remarked as much to Mrs. Bear one day.
"For goodness' sake, don't say that!" she exclaimed. "Don't mention fire to me. The very thought of it makes me nervous. Everything's so dry! I shall be glad when it rains again."
"It is dry," Mr. Bear agreed. "But don't worry. It's like this every fall." And he went slowly down the mountain.
Cuffy and Silkie were playing together that morning. Cuffy was teaching Silkie to box, though, to be sure, he knew very little about boxing. But he found it easy to tap Silkie on the nose. And he had tapped her so hard that Mrs. Bear heard a sound very much like quarreling; and she came to the door to see what was the trouble.
Mrs. Bear was just going to call to her children, when she noticed a peculiar odor in the air. And she stood quite still, and sniffed, just as Cuffy had when he smelled the haymakers' lunch. You remember that the more Cuffy sniffed, the less alarmed he had been. But it was different with Mrs. Bear. The longer she stood there, with her nose twitching, and snuffing up the air, the more uneasy she became. And pretty soon she saw something that gave her a great start.
It was something white that Mrs. Bear saw, and it hung over the tree-tops; and where the wind had caught it it was spun out thin, like a veil.
It was exactly what Mrs. Bear had feared—it was smoke! The forest was afire! And Mrs. Bear was very much alarmed. She sent Cuffy and Silkie into the house, because she wanted to be sure that they wouldn't wander off into the woods. And then their mother stood in the doorway and watched. She was looking for Mr. Bear. While she waited there the smoke kept rising more and more until there were great clouds of it; and at last Mrs. Bear could see red flames licking up to the tops of the trees.
Several deer came bounding past, and a great number of rabbits and squirrels. And then followed other animals that couldn't run so fast—such as raccoons, and skunks, and woodchucks. Not for years had Mrs. Bear seen so many of the forest-people—and they were all so frightened, and in such a hurry to get away from the fire, that not one of them noticed Mrs. Bear as she stood in her doorway.
"Where are they going, Mother?" It was Cuffy who asked the question. He had crept up behind his mother and had been looking at the strange sight for some time.
"They're going over to the lake, on the other side of the mountain," Mrs. Bear said.
"Are they going fishing?" Cuffy inquired.
Mrs. Bear shook her head. And then Cuffy squeezed past her and saw what was happening.
"Oh-h, hurrah! hurrah!" he shouted.
His mother looked at him in astonishment.
"It's father's birthday!" he cried. You remember that Cuffy's mother had told him that Mr. Bear was born on the day of a great forest fire, and that he never had a birthday except when the woods caught fire again. "Now maybe father will bring home another little pig for a feast!" Cuffy said hopefully.
Cuffy Bear was disappointed. For when at last his father came galloping up to his house he brought no pig with him. Indeed he seemed to have forgotten that it was his birthday.
"Get the children!" he shouted to Mrs. Bear, as soon as he came in sight. And pretty soon Cuffy and Silkie and their father and mother were hurrying along on their way to the lake that lay on the other side of the mountain.
Cuffy was delighted. He thought that perhaps he would see the naughty little bear Peter again; for he remembered that Peter lived around the mountain, right where they were going.
They had travelled several miles when Mr. Bear stopped suddenly. And he said, "Hah!" And he looked up at the sky. Something had hit him right in the eye. You might think that Mr. Bear was angry. But no! He was very glad. For it was a drop of rain that had fallen upon him. And in a few minutes there were countless drops pattering down. Yes, soon it was raining hard. And to Cuffy's great disappointment they all started homewards again, for Mr. Bear knew that the rain would soon put the fire out.
Mr. Bear had known all the time that his house wouldn't burn; for it was made of rock, and went straight into the side of the mountain. But he knew that if the woods all around caught fire it would be several days before they could go out and get anything to eat, or even a drink of water. And that was why he had started to lead his family away.
When they were back in their house once more Cuffy could think of only one thing that would make up for his not having seen the small bear Peter again. And he climbed up on his father's knees and said—
"Will you go and get a little pig, Father?"
"A pig?" Mr. Bear exclaimed. "Well, now—why on earth do you want a pig? What would you do with a pig?"
"I'd eat it," Cuffy answered promptly. "It's your birthday, you know. And we ought to have a pig so we can have a real feast."
Mr. Bear smiled. And pretty soon he went out of the house. He was gone a long time. But at last he came back again, fairly staggering beneath the load that he carried.
When Cuffy saw what his father dropped down onto the floor he hopped up and down in his delight. There was no pig there, but Cuffy didn't mind that. For Mr. Bear had brought home four rabbits, and four squirrels, and four porcupines, and four raccoons. And Cuffy ate and ate until his skin grew so tight that he was afraid it would burst. He ate all of one rabbit, and one squirrel, and one raccoon. But he never touched his porcupine at all. It made him think of the time he had tried to kill a porcupine himself, and had got his paws stuck full of quills. But he had a real feast, just the same.
Far up Blue Mountain, and down in the valley too, the leaves had long ago fallen off the trees. And for some time the ground had been white with snow; for winter had come again. And Cuffy Bear's sister Silkie had had a birthday-party the very first day it snowed. Cuffy and Silkie shouted with glee each morning now, when they went out of doors, where the earth was covered with a snow-blanket. And they played and played and had just as good a time as little boys and girls have when winter comes. As they scampered about in the door-yard their feet left tracks that looked exactly like the foot-prints of barefooted girls and boys. They played tag, and hide-and-seek, and turned somersaults. And one day, when Mrs. Bear called them into the house, they ate, each of them, several quarts of chestnuts which Mr. Bear had gathered and brought home. In fact, before Mrs. Bear knew it they had eaten a great many more chestnuts than were good for them. And Cuffy, who had eaten the most, soon began to have a pain in his stomach.
"That's what you get for being greedy," his mother told him.
"I didn't eat many chestnuts," Cuffy said.
Mrs. Bear pointed to the floor.
"What do you call those?" she asked.
"Chestnut-shells," Cuffy replied, hanging his head. There was a great heap of shells on the floor where Cuffy had sat.
"Pick them all up—every one of them," his mother ordered. "And when you have finished you may take a nap—both of you."
Cuffy yawned.
"What do you say?" Mrs. Bear asked severely.
"Excuse me!" Cuffy said hastily.
"That's better!" said Mrs. Bear. "Now do as I say. You'll be asleep before you know it. And I don't intend to have those chestnut shells lying on the floor all winter."
You may think that that was a queer thing for Mrs. Bear to say. But when you see what happened, you'll understand what Mrs. Bear meant.
As Cuffy and Silkie sat down on the floor and began gathering up the chestnut-shells they both yawned and yawned. And since Mrs. Bear had left the room they didn't bother to say "Excuse me!" They were so sleepy! And before little Silkie had finished picking up her shells she just rolled herself up into a round ball and fell fast asleep. As for Cuffy, being a little older, he managed to stay awake just long enough to get the floor all nice and clean. And then he rolled himself into a ball and he went to sleep, right there on the floor.
So Mrs. Bear found them when she came back into the room. She smiled as she saw them. And picking up first one and then the other she carried them into their little bed-chamber and put them down gently and covered them over with leaves, so they would be snug and warm. Yes, Mrs. Bear wanted her children to be warm, for she knew that they would not wake up again until spring. She had noticed for several days that Cuffy and Silkie were growing sleepy. And to tell the truth, Mrs. Bear was becoming sleepy herself. That very night she and Mr. Bear went to bed a whole hour earlier than usual. And the next day they never minded at all how cold it grew outside or how much the wind howled. For not one of Mr. Bear's family waked up at all! They just slept and slept and slept, the whole winter long.
THE END
To you;—parents, guardians, teachers and all others upon whom devolves the supremely important responsibility of directing the early years of development of childhood, this series of TUCK-ME-IN TALES which sketch such vivid and delightful scenes of the vibrant life of meadow and woodland should have tremendous appeal. In this collection of stories you will find precisely the sort of healthy, imaginative entertainment that is an essential in stimulating thought-germs in the child mind.
Merely from the standpoint of their desirability for helping the growing tot to pass an idle half hour, any one of these volumes would be worth your while. But the author had something further than that in mind. He has, with simplicity and grace, worthy of high commendation, sought to convey a two-fold lesson throughout the entire series, the first based upon natural history and the second upon the elementary principles of living which should be made clear to every child at the earliest age of understanding.
The first of these aims he has accomplished by adapting every one of his bird characters to its living counterpart in the realm of biology. The child learns very definite truths about which the story is woven; learns in such a fascinating manner that he will not quickly forget, and is brought into such pleasant intimacy that his immediate sympathy is aroused.
The author accomplishes the purpose of driving home simple lessons on good conduct by attributing the many of the same traits of character to his feathered heroes and heroines that are to be found wherever the human race made its habitation. The praise-worthy qualities of courage, love, unselfishness, truth, industry, and humility are portrayed in the dealings of the field and forest folk and the consequential reward of these virtues is clearly shown; he also reveals the unhappy results of greed, jealousy, trickery and other character weaknesses. The effect is to impress indelibly upon the imagination of the child that certain deeds are their own desirable reward while certain others are much better left undone.
If any further recommendation is necessary, would it not be well to resort to the court of final appeal, the child himself? Simply purchase a trial copy from your bookseller with the understanding that if it meets with the disapproval of the little man or woman for whom it is intended, he will accept its return.
Of course, there is a time when Jolly Robin is only a nestling. Then one day, after he tumbles out of the apple tree and falls squawking and fluttering to the ground, he takes his first lesson in flying. So pleased is Jolly to know that he can actually sail through the air on his wings, that he goes out into the wide, wide world to shift for himself. One day, after advising with Jimmy Rabbit, he decides to become general laugh-maker to the inhabitants of Pleasant Valley, and he becomes one of Mother Nature's happiest little feathered folk, going about trying to make things a bit better in the world. True, he falls into many blunders and has many strange experiences, but his intentions are always the best, remember.
Slyly tucked away in this story of Jolly Robin and of his adventures, is much bird lore and philosophy,—both instructive and entertaining.