Father Thrift was carrying in wood for his fire. It had been a long
and hard winter.
Suddenly he heard footsteps in the snow behind him. He looked around.
And there--would you believe it!--stood his old friend, Shaggy Bear.
Shaggy was as thin as a shadow, and his teeth chattered with the cold.
"My, my, but you are out early this year!" exclaimed Father Thrift.
"Come in and warm yourself by the fire."
Shaggy needed no coaxing. He was so cold that even his voice had
frozen in his throat! At least he couldn't speak a word until he grew
warm.
And the way that bear snuggled up to Father Thrift's fire was comical
to see!
At last he managed to say: "Father Thrift, I shouldn't know this place
if I had not lived here so long. You have a door on the cave, and two
windows. And you have chairs and a table, and--and two beds.
"Why have you two beds, Father Thrift?"
"One is for company," answered the queer little old man.
"If you had just one more bed, I should say this was the House of the
Three Bears."
And Shaggy laughed at his little joke. (Or perhaps the good meal which
Father Thrift had prepared for him tickled his stomach.)
"Where have you been all winter?" asked Father Thrift.
"When the cold days came," said the bear, "I crawled into my cave in
the rocks and curled myself up into a big ball. There I meant to stay
until the warm days of spring.
"The snow made a door to my cave, and I intended to sleep all winter
long.
"Then the wind swept the snow away from my door and I awoke and looked
about. I thought that spring had come.
"And that is where I made my mistake. I should have gone to sleep
again. But I was hungry, having had nothing to eat all winter. So I
crawled out.
"The roots and the berries are still asleep under the snow. The fish
are under the ice. There is nothing for me to do but return to my cave
and go back to sleep."
"You must not do that," said Father Thrift. "That would be wasting
time. And time is the most precious thing we have."
"Is it?" the bear asked in surprise.
"Indeed it is!" replied Father Thrift. "We may lose wealth, but by
hard work and saving we may win it back.
"We may lose health, and with care and medicine restore it. But time
that is lost is gone forever."
The bear listened to Father Thrift's wise talk, but he shivered and
said: "Still, I am cold; and I can find no food to eat."
"I have a warm fire," said Father Thrift. "And I have food enough for
us both, and to spare. I will share with you if you will help me with
my work."
"That I will, gladly!" cried Shaggy, who was still smacking his lips
over the fine dinner he had eaten. "But how does it happen that you
have food, when the ground has been frozen so long?"
"When you learn to look ahead," replied Father Thrift, "you will find
that easy enough.
"In the warm days I prepare for the cold days which I know are coming.
I raise my crops. I gather berries and plums, and preserve them. The
apples and the nuts will keep as they are.
"So, you see, instead of letting go to waste what I cannot use when
food is plentiful, I save it for the days when food is scarce."
"Then do you rest all winter?" asked the bear.
"No!" said Father Thrift. "In the winter many things are waiting to be
done. Then I make my clothes, shoes, furniture, tools, and other
things."
"What are you making now?" questioned the bear, as Father Thrift
whittled pieces of wood with his knife.
"These will be wooden spouts," answered Father Thrift. "You like sweet
things--honey, for instance."
Father Thrift smiled. Do you know why?
"Well, maple sirup and maple sugar are about as sweet as honey. These
spouts will help us get all we want of both."
"Will they?" cried Shaggy eagerly. "How?"
"The maple trees, too," Father Thrift told him, "have been sleeping
all winter. Most of the sap has been down in their roots. In the early
spring it travels upward into the trunk and branches and the trees
awake.
"The maple tree does not need all its sap. It is willing to give some
of it to us. And when you have maple sirup you won't have to steal
honey from the bees."
This pleased Shaggy so much that he stood up on his hind legs and
danced a bear dance. How Father Thrift laughed!