[Illustration]
_BEDTIME STORIES_
NEDDIE AND BECKIE STUBTAIL
(TWO NICE BEARS)
BY
HOWARD R. GARIS
AUTHOR OF “SAMMIE AND SUSIE LITTLETAIL,” “JOHNNIE AND BILLIE BUSHYTAIL,”
“CHARLIE AND ARABELLA CHICK,” “THE SMITH BOYS,” “THE ISLAND BOYS,” ETC.
Illustrated by LOUIS WISA
A. L. BURT COMPANY
PUBLISHERS · · NEW YORK
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
These stories appeared originally in the Evening News, of Newark, N.
J., and are reproduced in book form by the kind permission of the
publishers of that paper, to whom the author extends his thanks.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS
STORY PAGE
I. NEDDIE AND BECKIE IN TROUBLE 9
II. BECKIE AND THE BUNS 17
III. NEDDIE AND THE BEES’ NEST 25
IV. BECKIE AND THE GRAPES 33
V. NEDDIE AND THE TRAINED BEAR 41
VI. THE STUBTAILS RUN AWAY 49
VII. NEDDIE AND BECKIE CLIMB A POLE 57
VIII. NEDDIE DOES A TRICK 65
IX. THE STUBTAILS’ THANKSGIVING 73
X. NEDDIE AND THE ELEPHANT 81
XI. BECKIE AND THE MONKEY 89
XII. NEDDIE AND BECKIE GO HOME 97
XIII. NEDDIE AND FUZZY WUZZYTAIL 104
XIV. BECKIE MAKES A DOLL’S DRESS 111
XV. NEDDIE’S JOKE ON UNCLE WIGWAG 119
XVI. MR. WHITEWASH AND THE STOVEPIPE 127
XVII. PAPA STUBTAIL IN A TRAP 135
XVIII. MAMMA STUBTAIL’S HONEY CAKES 143
XIX. NEDDIE AND THE KINDLING WOOD 151
XX. BECKIE’S COUGH MEDICINE 159
XXI. NEDDIE AND THE TOOTING HORN 167
XXII. BECKIE AND THE ORGAN MAN 175
XXIII. NEDDIE PLAYS THE PIANO 183
XXIV. NEDDIE AND BECKIE AT A PARTY 191
XXV. NEDDIE IN A SNOWBANK 199
XXVI. HELPING UNCLE WIGWAG 207
XXVII. BECKIE AND HER WAX DOLL 215
XXVIII. NEDDIE AND THE LEMON PIE 223
XXIX. BECKIE AND THE COLD BIRDIE 231
XXX. NEDDIE HELPS SANTA CLAUS 239
XXXI. NEDDIE AND BECKIE IN THE CHIMNEY 246
Neddie and Beckie Stubtail
STORY I
NEDDIE AND BECKIE IN TROUBLE
So many different kinds of stories as I have told you! My goodness me,
sakes alive, and some molasses popcorn! I should think you would get
tired of them.
But I hope you do not, and, as everyone likes something new once in a
while, I thought I would make up some new stories for you. I have been
telling you about rabbits and squirrels and ducks and chickens. How
would you like to hear now about some little bear children? Not bad,
savage bears, you know, but nice, kind, gentle, tame ones who always
minded the papa and mamma bears, went to bed when they were told, and
all that.
Of course, I could tell you some stories about bad, growly and scratchy
bears if I wanted to, but I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.
Now, then, for some bear stories.
Once upon a time, not so very many years ago, there lived in a house,
called a cave, in the side of a hill, a family of bears. Their
cave-house was not far from where Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy
dogs, had their kennel, and the bear cave was only a short distance away
from where Joie and Tommie and Kittie Kat lived.
There were seven bears in the family, five grown-up ones and two
children. There was a chap named Neddie, who was as nice a boy bear as
you would want to meet. And there was a little girl bear named Beckie,
and she was as cute as a soap bubble, if not cuter.
Then there were the papa and mamma bears. And their last name was
Stubtail, for bears, you know, have only a little, short stubby
tail—hardly a tail at all, to tell the truth. But still it is more of a
tail than Buddy and Brighteyes, the guinea pig children, have.
Also living with this same Stubtail family of bears was an old gentleman
bear named Uncle Wigwag, and the reason he was called that was because
he was always playing tricks, or telling jokes, and when he laughed,
after he had fooled anybody, he would wig and wag his head from side to
side.
Also there was Aunt Piffy, who was so fat that she used to puff and pant
as she came upstairs, and lastly there was a real old bear gentleman
named Mr. Whitewash. He was called that because he was all white—he was
a polar bear from the North Pole, and he always wanted to sit on a cake
of ice.
So these bears lived together in the cave in the side of the hill, and
they did many things, about which I shall have the pleasure of telling
you. Neddie and Beckie did the most things to tell about, but, of
course, sometimes the other bear folks did things also.
One day when Neddie and Beckie had come home from their school, Mrs.
Stubtail, the bear lady, said to her children:
“Neddie—Beckie, I wish you would walk a little way through the woods,
and meet your papa when he comes home from his work in the bed factory.”
You see Mr. Stubtail worked at making mattresses for beds. With his long
sharp claws he would make the inside of the mattresses all fluffy and
soft so, no matter how wide awake you were, you always fell asleep when
you stretched out on one of the beds the bear gentleman made.
“Why do you want us to meet papa?” asked Neddie.
“I want you to tell him to stop at the store on his way home and bring
some honey,” said Mrs. Stubtail. “We are going to have hot cornmeal
biscuits and honey for supper.”
“Oh, joy!” cried Beckie, clapping her paws together. Then she waltzed
around on her hind paws and she and Neddie hurried off down the road to
meet their papa.
As they were going along they heard a voice calling to them:
“Oh, ho! Children, wait a minute! Here comes your Uncle Wiggily with
some ice cream cones for you!”
“Oh, let’s wait for our uncle, the rabbit gentleman,” said Neddie.
So he and Beckie waited, and they heard a rustling in the bushes and
their mouths were just getting ready for the ice cream cones when out
popped Uncle Wigwag, the joking old bear.
“Ha! Ha!” he cried, laughing and wigging and wagging his head. “That’s
the time I fooled you!”
Neddie and Beckie were so disappointed that they did not know what to
say. Uncle Wigwag was laughing at his joke, but when he saw how badly
the bear children felt he said:
“Never mind. I’ll give you each a penny and you can buy yourself some
ice cream cones.”
So he did, and then Beckie and Neddie were happy, and they went on to
meet their papa, while Uncle Wigwag looked around for some one else on
whom he could play a joke.
“We ought to meet papa soon now,” said Neddie, as he looked under an old
stump to see if he could find any crabapples growing there.
“A little farther on and we’ll see him,” spoke Beckie.
They went on a little more, and all of a sudden Neddie saw a large
hollow log lying on the ground. It was just like a stovepipe, only
bigger and it had a hole all the way through it.
“Ha! I’m going to crawl through that hollow log!” cried Neddie.
“Better not,” warned Beckie. “Maybe something in it might catch you.”
“Pooh! I’m not afraid!” cried Neddie. “Anyhow, I can look all the way
through. There’s not a thing in it.”
So he started to crawl through the hollow log, but my goodness me, sakes
alive and some onion pancakes! Neddie had not gone very far before he
found the hole in the log getting smaller.
“I don’t believe I’ll be able to crawl through to the other end,”
thought the little boy bear. Then he tried to back out, but he could
not—he was stuck fast inside the hollow log.
“Oh, help! Help!” cried Neddie, wiggling and trying to get out. But he
was tightly held. He could hardly move.
“What’s the matter?” asked Beckie from where she stood outside the
hollow log.
“I’m stuck! I can’t get out!” cried Neddie, and his voice sounded as if
it were down cellar.
“Wait! I’ll get a long stick and poke you out, just like you poke out a
bean that gets stuck in your putty-blower,” said Beckie. So she got a
long stick, and poked it in through the hollow log. All at once the
stick came up against something soft.
“What’s that?” asked Beckie, surprised like.
“Stop! Ouch! It’s me!” yelled Neddie. “Stop it! You’re tickling my
back.”
“But I want to get you out,” said Beckie, poking in the stick again.
“You can’t do it that way,” said her brother. “I guess you’ll have to
crawl in after me and pull me out.”
“All right,” said Beckie kindly, “I will.” So she climbed through the
log from the same end where her brother had gone in. “I’m coming,”
called Beckie. Then she grunted, all of a sudden.
“What’s the matter?” asked Neddie, anxious-like.
“I’m stuck, too,” answered Beckie. “Either I am too fat, or this log is
too small. I can’t move either way, and I can’t help you.”
“Oh, dear!” cried Neddie. So there the two little bear children were in
trouble inside the hollow log. They wiggled and squirmed and did
everything they could think of to get out, but it was of no use. They
were stuck fast.
I don’t know how long they might have had to stay, nor what might have
happened to them, had not their papa come along just then from the bed
factory. The bear gentleman heard cries coming from the hollow log, and,
listening a moment, he knew they were made by his children, Beckie and
Neddie.
“Ah ha!” cried Mr. Stubtail. “They are in the hollow log! I’ll soon get
them out.”
Then, with his strong claws, Mr. Stubtail made a big hole in the side of
the log, taking care not to scratch Beckie or Neddie. Soon the hole was
large enough for the two bear children to come out about the middle of
the side of the log. And, oh! how glad they were.
“I’ll never go in a hollow log again!” cried Beckie.
“Nor I,” added Neddie. Then they told their papa about their mamma
wanting honey, and he took them by the paws and led them to the store
where honey was sold and bought some. Next they all went home to supper,
and Uncle Wigwag said it was a good joke on Beckie and Neddie to get
stuck in the hollow log. Perhaps it was, but the bear children did not
think so. But they liked the honey, anyhow.
So in the next story, if the jumping-jack doesn’t fall off his stick
down into the cake dish, and get all covered with frosting so he looks
like a candy doll, I’ll tell you about Beckie and the buns.
STORY II
BECKIE AND THE BUNS
The next day, after Neddie and Beckie Stubtail, the little bear
children, had been caught in the hollow log, and their papa had to claw
them out, they didn’t go to school. It was not because they were not
well enough, for, after all, being stuck inside a hollow log doesn’t
hurt a bear child very much. You see they have a lot of soft, fluffy fur
on them.
No, that wasn’t the reason Beckie and Neddie didn’t go to school. And it
wasn’t because it was Saturday, either. No, it was because there was no
school on account of the teacher bear having a toothache. And when a
bear has the toothache he really can’t do anything. He has to go to the
dentist right away.
It was so with the teacher bear.
On the outside of the school house door the bear teacher hung a white
piece of birch bark, on which was printed:
NO SCHOOL TO-DAY.
I’VE GOT THE TOOTHACHE.
“Oh, goodie!” cried Neddie when he read it, and he felt so happy that he
tried to wag his little short tail, only he couldn’t.
“Why, Neddie, I’m s’prised at you!” exclaimed Tommie Kat, who, with his
brother and sister, Joie and Kittie, had also come to school.
“Oh, I’m not glad ’cause teacher’s got the toothache,” said Neddie
Stubtail quickly, “it’s just because there’s no school.”
“Oh, then so’m I glad,” said Kittie Kat, purring softly.
So all the animal children went home on account of the school being
closed, and when Mrs. Stubtail saw Beckie and Neddie coming up to the
cave-house, she exclaimed:
“Why, what does this mean?” The little bears told their mamma, and Aunt
Piffy, who had just come up from down cellar, said:
“Well, if there is no (puff) school, I can (puff) hear your (puff)
lessons!” You see she puffed because she was all out of breath.
“Oh, no, thank you,” said Neddie quickly, “we’ll have to-day’s lessons
to-morrow, so we don’t have to study any now.”
Then he went out to have some fun: and one of the things he did was to
watch his uncle Wigwag and Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear gentleman,
building a new room onto the cave-house. It was a room made from a big
hollow log—not the same one that Neddie and Beckie had been caught in,
however, but another one. Mrs. Stubtail wanted her cave-house made
larger so Uncle Wigwag suggested adding on a hollow log for a
sitting-room.
So that’s what he and Mr. Whitewash were doing, and Neddie helped them
by getting in their way every now and then, so they wouldn’t work too
fast and get all tired out. Finally Uncle Wigwag said:
“Neddie, I wish you’d go to the store and get me some red paint to color
this log green.” And, never thinking it was a joke, off Neddie ran.
Pretty soon after that his mamma wanted him to go to the store to get
her a yeast cake, so she could make bread. But, as Neddie was not in
sight, Beckie went.
On her way home with the yeast cake in her paws Beckie had to go past a
house where some other bears lived. Now these bears were not nice and
good. In fact they were bad, and because they were bad, and because the
Stubtail family was a family of good bears the bad bears did not like
them.
Why, would you believe it? Often those bad bears would take rabbit and
squirrel and guinea pig children off to their dens and keep them there
for ever and ever so long, just to be mean, you know. But none of the
Stubtails, or Mr. Whitewash, or Uncle Wigwag, or Aunt Piffy would do
anything like that. Maybe Uncle Wigwag would play a joke, or do
something funny, but nothing that was real mean.
And once Mr. Whitewash met a little boy kitten in the woods—Joie Kat I
think it was. And Joie was wiggling and squirming and twisting this way
and that.
“What’s the matter, Joie?” asked Mr. Whitewash. “Have you the measles?”
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Joie, “my back itches me terribly, and I can’t
reach the place to scratch it. Oh, dear!”
Now, there’s nothing worse than to have an itchy place in your back and
not be able to scratch it. Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear, knew that, so
with his claws he gently scratched Joie’s back for him and tickled the
little kitten boy very much.
But if Joie had met one of the bad bears, why, my goodness me, and some
peanut butter on your cracker! The bad bear would, just as soon as not,
have taken Joie off to his den and made him pull chestnuts out of the
fire for the other bears to eat. That’s what it is to be a bad bear!
And that was the cave-house in the woods which Beckie had to go past on
her way home from the store with the yeast cake. But she was not afraid,
even of the bad bears.
However, one of the bad bears, looking out of a window in his
cave-house, saw her coming and he said to his brothers:
“Ha! There’s that goody-goody little Stubtail girl! I’m going to get her
in here and pull her hair!”
“How are you going to do it?” asked another bear.
“I’ll show you!” spoke the first one.
So he went to the cupboard and got a lot of sweet buns. Bears, you know,
love buns almost more than anything else. If ever you see some tame
bears in a cage or in a park give them a few buns, and see how they
enjoy them. That is, if the keeper lets you, not otherwise.
So this bad bear, who wanted to pull Beckie’s hair, just because she was
good, threw a bun out of his window. It fell close to the little bear
girl, who looked at it in surprise.
“Ha!” she exclaimed, “that is strange! I wonder if it is raining buns
from the sky?” She looked up, but she could see none falling from the
clouds, and because the bad bear who had thrown the bun was hiding
behind the window curtains Beckie could not see him, either.
“Well, I’ll eat it,” the little animal said, and she did, for it was a
good bun, even if a bad bear did throw it.
“Ha!” said one of the bad bears to his brother, “I don’t see how you’re
going to get her in here to pull her hair just by tossing buns at her.”
“You just watch,” said the first bad bear.
Then he threw another bun, when Beckie wasn’t looking, and this one he
did not toss quite so far. It fell nearer to the cave-house of the bad
bears.
“Oh joy!” cried Beckie, seeing the second bun, “someone is very good to
me to-day!”
Ah! If she had only known.
“See!” exclaimed one bad bear to the other, “that’s how I’m going to get
Beckie in here! Every bun she picks up will bring her closer and closer
to us, and soon I can jump out and grab her!”
Oh, wasn’t he the bad old bear!
Well, Beckie ate the second bun, and then came a third one, sailing
through the air.
“Why, it surely is raining buns!” cried Beckie in delight. “I mustn’t
eat them all. I’ll save some to take home to Neddie.”
So she began to put the buns in her pocket, and she never noticed that
each one she picked up brought her nearer and nearer and nearer to the
cave of the bad bears.
The last bun was almost on their doorstep, and, just as Beckie reached
over for it, the bad bear jumped out and grabbed her.
“Oh dear!” cried poor Beckie Stubtail.
But the bad bears did not get a chance to take her into their house.
Just as they were going to do it along came Mr. Whitewash, the kind
polar bear. He was looking for Neddie to tell him Uncle Wigwag was only
joking about the red paint to make a log green. And then Mr. Whitewash
saw the bad bear grab Beckie who had picked up the buns.
And what do you think Mr. Whitewash did?
Why, the big, brave white polar bear went right up to the bad black bear
and he cuffed him on the ears with his broad paws, and pushed him back
inside his own house, and then he tickled that furry creature in the
ribs until the bad bear had to laugh whether he wanted to or not, and
then Mr. Whitewash just grabbed Beckie up under his paw and hurried away
home with her. And, oh, how angry the bad bears were, because they could
pull no one’s hair.
“Beckie, you must be very careful about going near that bear house
again,” said her mamma when she heard the story.
“I will, but, anyhow, I got the buns,” said Beckie, as she gave Neddie
some.
So that’s all now, if you please, but the next story will be about
Neddie and the bees’ nest—that is, if the nutmeg grater doesn’t scratch
the piano and make it cry when the rubber doll tries to play a song on
it.
STORY III
NEDDIE AND THE BEES’ NEST
One day, when Neddie and Beckie Stubtail, the little boy and girl bears,
started for school, Uncle Wigwag, the funny old bear gentleman who, with
Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear, was building a sitting-room on to the
cave-house out of a hollow tree log, said:
“Neddie, when you come back from your lessons this afternoon I shall
have something for you to do.”
“All right,” answered Neddie politely, as he stood up on his hind legs
and reached for a bunch of grapes growing on a vine in the woods. “All
right, Uncle Wigwag. Do you want me to go after some blue paint to color
a board pink?” and Neddie laughed.
Uncle Wigwag laughed too, for you see he was always playing jokes on
Neddie and Beckie, and he remembered when he had once sent the little
bear boy for the wrong kind of paint.
“No,” answered the old gentleman bear, “nothing like that, Neddie; I
just want to take you for a walk in the woods, and have you go see Uncle
Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, with me. Uncle Wiggily is going
to sell his automobile and buy a new car, so maybe he’ll give us his old
one.”
“Oh, joy! I hope he does!” cried Neddie.
“So do I!” exclaimed Beckie.
Then she and her brother went to school and learned their lessons, such
as how to make beds in hollow stumps, and how to scratch their letters
on the white bark of a birch tree and how to keep out of dangerous
traps, and all things like that.
And all the while Neddie was wondering whether or not Uncle Wiggily
would give them his old automobile.
“If he does,” thought the little bear boy, “we can have lots of fun. It
will be better than sliding down hill or eating ice cream cones.”
Well, after a while, school was out, and the blackboards could take a
rest and the pieces of chalk could lie down on the back of the erasers
and go to sleep. Out trooped the animal children.
“Come on, Neddie!” cried Joie Kat, the kitten boy. “Let’s have a game of
tag!”
“Or run a race!” added Tommie Kat.
“No, I’ve got to go home,” said Neddie. “My uncle is going to take me
with him.”
So he did not stop to play, but hurried on. Beckie, however, played with
Kittie Kat and with Susie Littletail, the rabbit girl, and Alice and
Lulu Wibblewobble, the duck girls.
“Well, here I am, Uncle Wigwag!” at last called Neddie, as he ran up to
the old bear gentleman. “Come on!”
“Just a minute, Neddie. Sit down on this board while I saw it in two,
will you? I want it for the front steps,” said Uncle Wigwag.
So Neddie, thinking nothing wrong, sat down on the board, which was
placed between two stumps, resting on them. And no sooner had Neddie
seated himself, than “Crack!” went the board, breaking right in the
middle, and down Neddie went. But he wasn’t hurt, for Uncle Wigwag, when
he played this trick, had placed a pile of soft leaves for Neddie to
fall on. They were just like a cushion.
“Excuse my joke!” laughed Uncle Wigwag. You see he had nearly sawed the
board in two before Neddie arrived, and when the little bear boy sat on
it the pieces were just held together by a few shreds of wood. Of
course, they easily broke with Neddie’s weight.
“Oh, that’s all right! I don’t mind!” laughed Neddie, brushing the dried
leaves off his fur. “You must have your joke, I suppose, Uncle Wigwag.”
“Indeed I must,” answered the old gentleman bear. “But here is a penny
for you to buy a lollypop, because you took my trick so good-naturedly.”
Then Uncle Wigwag, shaking his head, set off through the woods with
Neddie to the house of Uncle Wiggily, the rabbit gentleman, to ask for
the old auto.
“Hum! Let me see!” exclaimed Uncle Wiggily, when Uncle Wigwag had asked
him. “My old auto, eh? Well, I will think about it. Sit down, Mr.
Wigwag, and I’ll consider it.”
“And may I go off and buy a lollypop?” asked Neddie, hoping that, by the
time he came back, Uncle Wiggily would have given Uncle Wigwag the old
auto.
“Yes, toddle off!” exclaimed Uncle Wigwag, so Neddie toddled off.
On and on he went through the woods, and pretty soon he came to a tree
on the side of which he saw something sticky. A number of flies were
buzzing around it, and at first Neddie thought it was flypaper. But when
he went closer he smelled something sweet, and putting the tip of his
paw on it, and then putting his paw to his mouth, Neddie found the
sticky stuff on the tree was honey; just as you wet the tip of your
finger when you want to see whether there is sugar or salt in the pepper
dish.
“Ah, ha! Honey!” cried Neddie. “I just love honey! It is better than
lollypops!”
He put his red tongue on the sticky stuff, and licked off all he could
reach. Then he stretched up with his paws and got more. Finally he could
reach up no farther.
But he looked up, and he saw a big black lump high in the tree, and
Neddie said to himself:
“That must be where the most honey is. I’ll climb up and get some, and
take some home to mamma and Beckie.”
Now, Neddie could climb a tree very well. All bears can, even little
baby ones, for they have sharp claws for that very thing. So Neddie got
ready to climb, and before doing so he sang this little song:
“Honey, honey in a tree,
Some for you and some for me.
Oh! how I do love sweet honey,
I can get this without money!”
Then Neddie began to climb. Higher and higher he went in the tree, and
as he went up he could smell the sweet honey more and more, and his
mouth fairly watered for it.
Neddie did not stop to think that the honey was not his. All he thought
of was how good it would taste, and how much he wanted it. Nor did he
stop to ask himself what that funny buzzing sound was, that seemed to
come from inside the tree.
“Oh, you honey!” gaily cried Neddie, as he climbed higher.
Finally he got to the big black lump, and, surely enough, it was a pile
of honeycomb, the little holes being all filled with the sweet, sticky
stuff.
“Oh, this beats lollypops!” cried Neddie. “It is better even than
automobiles.”
Neddie reached his paw into the middle of the black mass and scooped out
a lot of honey. He put it in his mouth and began to chew on it. It was
so good that he just had to shut his eyes.
“Oh, yum! yum!” cried Neddie.
Now, if he had had his eyes open Neddie might have seen a lot of bees
flying out of the hollow honey tree. But he did not look. He was
thinking too much of the sweet stuff. Out buzzed the bees, and they were
very angry that some one had come to take their sweet stuff. And, small
as they were, the bees were not afraid of Neddie, who was quite a large
bear boy.
“Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!” went the bees. “Get away from our honey!” Then they
flew at Neddie, and with their sharp stings they stung him on the end of
his soft and tender nose, and on the bottom parts of his paws, where
they had no fur, and on his ears; and some of the bees even snuggled
down in his fur and stung him through that.
“Oh, wow!” cried Neddie, as he felt the needle-like stings. Then he
opened his eyes quickly enough.
“Get away from our honey!” buzzed the bees, and Neddie was glad to slide
down that tree more quickly than he had climbed up it. Oh! how his nose
smarted, and his paws! He seemed on fire all over. He licked the honey
off his paws, but it did not taste good any more.
“Oh, wow! Double wow!” howled poor Neddie, and then he started to run
home as fast as he could. And on the way he met Uncle Wigwag, who soon
knew what the matter was.
“Some cool, wet mud on your nose will stop the pain,” said the bear
gentleman, and he took Neddie to a brook and made him a nice
mud-plaster. Then Neddie felt better, but he said he would never go near
a bees’ honey nest again.
“And did Uncle Wiggily give you the auto?” asked Neddie of Uncle Wigwag
on their way home.
“He is still thinking about it,” said Uncle Wigwag. “Oh, but your nose
is all swelled up like a football, Neddie.” And so it was. But in a few
days it was all better.
And in the story after this, if the horse radish doesn’t run away with
the spoon-holder and scare the knives and forks off the sideboard, I’ll
tell you about Beckie and the grapes.
STORY IV
BECKIE AND THE GRAPES
The nose of Neddie Stubtail, the little bear boy, was so badly swelled
from the bee stings, after he took some of their honey, that he could
not go to school next day, nor for some days after that. I told you in
the story before this how Neddie got stung.
So Neddie’s mamma let him stay home from school, but even at that he
could not have much fun, for he could not go out and play, and what is
the good of staying home from school if you have to remain in the house
all the while?
There were two reasons for Neddie’s staying in the cave-house, on the
side of the green hill, and not going out. One reason was that most of
the day all his boy animal friends were at their lessons in school.
The other reason was that when Neddie did go out with them, they all
looked at his stung and swollen nose in such a funny way that it made
him feel queer. He did not like it.
Sammie Littletail, the rabbit boy, would ask:
“What is the matter, Neddie? Did you bite yourself, or fall downstairs?”
And Johnnie and Billie Bushytail, the squirrel brothers, would say:
“Why, Neddie, did your Uncle Wigwag play a trick on you?”
Then Joie or Tommie Kat would want to know:
“Neddie, did you fall out of bed in your sleep, and bump your nose?”
“Neither one! Now you stop!” Neddie would exclaim, and then he’d go in
the house. Oh, he was sorry in more ways than one that he had ever
meddled with the bees’ nest, even if he did get some honey out of it.
But one afternoon, when Neddie had come in the house because the other
animal boys plagued him so, Mrs. Stubtail, the bear mamma, whispered to
Beckie, who was Neddie’s sister:
“Beckie, you know Neddie feels pretty badly, don’t you?”
“Yes, mamma, I do. His nose must pain him very much.”
“Indeed it does. Now I’d like to give him a little treat. Suppose you go
to the store and get him some ice cream. That will cool off his nose and
he will feel better.”
“Of course I’ll go, mamma!” exclaimed Beckie. So she put on her little
red cloak and bonnet and off through the woods she went to where Jack
Frost kept an ice cream store.
Beckie got a nice big box of ice cream for her brother, and on her way
back through the woods the little bear girl saw some lovely bunches of
wild grapes hanging on a vine. They were almost the last of the season
and soon the grapes would be all gone, for the animals of the woods, and
the birds of the air, would eat them.
“I’m going to pick some nice bunches, and take them home to Neddie,”
thought Beckie kindly. “Maybe he’ll like them with his ice cream.”
So Beckie set down the box of frozen sweet stuff, and began pulling off
some bunches of wild grapes with her long claws, which were to her just
what your fingers are to you.
Well, in a little while, not so very long, Beckie heard some one coming
up behind her, sort of slow and careful like, and she quickly turned
around. For she knew there were bad animals in the wood, who would be
glad to carry her off to their dens. Beckie was a very sweet, fat little
bear.
But all Beckie saw, when she turned around was Mr. Fuzzytail, the fox
gentleman.
“Ah, Ha!” exclaimed Mr. Fuzzytail. “Good afternoon, Beckie! I hope I see
you well. Gathering grapes, I observe!”
“Yes,” answered Beckie, wondering why Mr. Fuzzytail was so polite to
her. Usually he hardly spoke, always going past as if he were in a great
hurry. And when she saw Mr. Fuzzytail smiling in such a sly way, Beckie
knew the fox gentleman had some reason for his politeness.
“Beautiful day; isn’t it?” went on Mr. Fuzzytail, pretending to look at
his paws, to see if there were any stickers on them.
“Yes,” said Beckie. “Would you like some grapes?”
Beckie thought she would be just as polite as that fox was, and maybe
she could find out what he was after.
“For he is after something,” decided the little bear girl, “and it isn’t
grapes, either.”
“Grapes? Why, yes, if you will be so kind and condescending as to stoop
so low without bending, I would be thankful for a small bunch,” spoke
Mr. Fuzzytail, very, very politely indeed.
“Oh, he’s surely up to some trick,” thought Beckie. “I must find out
what it is. He’s as bad at tricks as our Uncle Wigwag.”
Beckie was not afraid of the fox. She was larger and stronger than he
was, even if she was only a small bear girl. Of course, Kittie Kat, or
Lulu or Alice Wibblewobble, the duck girls, would have feared Mr.
Fuzzytail, but Beckie did not.
So she picked a nice bunch of grapes for him, and while he was slowly
eating them, picking off the bad ones, Beckie looked all about. But she
could see no danger. And, all the while, Mr. Fuzzytail kept talking to
Beckie. He asked her all sorts of questions—how she was getting on at
school, how her brother’s stung nose was, what her papa worked at, and
whether Aunt Piffy’s epizootic was any better. Oh, that fox was a sly
fellow!
And now I’ll tell you why he was so polite, and why he stayed there
talking to Beckie, and why he ate his grapes so slowly.
Do you remember the bad bears who lived in the woods? Yes. Well, do you
remember how once they tried to get Beckie into their caves, by tossing
buns to her, so they could pull her hair?
Oh, you do. Very good! Well, these same bears, or rather, one of them,
was after Beckie again. He was the largest and the worst of the bad
bears, too.
He had seen Beckie start off to the store, and he made up his mind he’d
get her. Only he knew that if he followed along she might hear him
tramping over the sticks, for he was a very heavy bear. And he knew that
if he started to run after Beckie he could not catch her, for she was
light on her paws and swift to run.
So the bad bear planned a trick. He met Mr. Fuzzytail, the fox, and said
to him:
“Now you creep along after Beckie. She won’t be afraid of you, and if
you can keep her there by the grape vine for a while, by talking to her,
it will give me a chance to sneak up behind the bushes and grab her
before she knows what is happening. Will you do it?”
“I will,” said Mr. Fuzzytail, for he was afraid of the big bad bear. So
that’s how it was the fox kept on talking to Beckie as she picked the
grapes. He wanted to keep her attention so she would not notice the bear
sneaking up on her.
Finally Beckie said:
“Well, I must be going now. Good-by, Mr. Fuzzytail.”
“Oh, good-by,” said the sly fox, and out of the corner of his eye he saw
the bad bear behind the grape vine. The bear had sneaked up without
Beckie hearing him, because she was so busy in being polite to the fox.
“Good-by, Beckie,” went on Mr. Fuzzytail. And then to himself he said:
“I guess you won’t go very far.”
Well, Beckie leaned over to pick up the box of ice cream that she had
bought for Neddie and just then, with a loud roar, out from behind the
grape vine sprang the bad bear:
“Ha! This is the time I have you!” he cried to Beckie.
Beckie jumped so that the box of ice cream slipped out of her paw and
fell to the ground. The paper box hit a sharp stone, burst open and out
ran the ice cream all over, for it had melted when Beckie stopped to
pick the grapes.
“Wow!” cried the bad bear, as he made a jump for Beckie.
But he never reached her. Beckie leaped back just in time, and the bear
came down with his paws in the puddle of the slippery ice cream.
“Bang!” he went. His feet slid out from under him, just as if he were
coasting down hill backward, and he got so tangled up with himself that
by the time he was untangled Beckie had run away and gotten safely home.
Oh, how she ran! No bad bear could catch her.
The bad creature who had gone to all this trouble to catch Beckie got up
out of the ice cream. He was a funny looking sight, all splattered up
and plastered with dried leaves.
“This was all your fault!” he cried to the fox. “Be off before I bite
you!” And the sly fox was glad enough to go.
So that’s how Beckie got away from the bear by means of the slippery ice
cream. She told her mamma what had happened, and Mrs. Stubtail sent
Uncle Wigwag to the store for more ice cream for Neddie. So the little
bear, who was stung by the bees, had some, after all, and everybody was
happy except the bad bear.
And in the following story, if the chocolate drop doesn’t fall out of
the window and get all squashed flat on the postman’s umbrella, I’ll
tell you about Neddie and the trained bear.
STORY V
NEDDIE AND THE TRAINED BEAR
“Come on out and have some fun!” called Tommie Kat, the little kitten
boy, to Neddie Stubtail, the little bear chap, one afternoon when all
the animal children had come home from school. “Come on out, Neddie!”
Neddie had just entered the cave-house, where he lived with his mamma
and papa and the rest of the bear folk. Neddie tossed his books into one
corner, his hat into another and then he called out:
“Oh, I’m hungry, I want something to eat!”
“Never mind about eating,” said Tommie Kat, “come on have some fun.”
“No, I must eat!” cried Neddie, and he rushed out toward the kitchen.
Well, as it happened, just then Aunt Piffy, the fat lady bear who lived
with Mrs. Stubtail, being her sister, in fact; Aunt Piffy, as it
happened, just then, was coming in from the kitchen with a large plate
of doughnuts she had just baked.
And, of course, Neddie, being in such a hurry, ran right into Aunt
Piffy, doughnuts, plate and all, and then——
Oh dear! Such a time as there was!
Aunt Piffy suddenly sat down, and it is a mercy she didn’t sit on
Neddie, for if she had there would have been quite a sad happening, as
Aunt Piffy was very large and stout. And the plate fell from her paws,
and broke into twelve pieces, or maybe thirteen, for all I know, and the
doughnuts rolled all over the floor, one even bumping down the cellar
stairs.
“Oh, dear! What happened?” gasped Aunt Piffy, and she could hardly
breathe, she was so excited.
“I—I guess I happened,” said Neddie, looking all around at the scattered
doughnuts. “But I—I didn’t mean to,” he added. “I’ll help pick up the
cakes.”
“First, if you please, help me up,” said Aunt Piffy, puffing and blowing
to get her breath.
“I’ll help you!” exclaimed Tommie Kat, for he had heard, from out on the
porch of Neddie’s cave-house, the noise of the fall and had come in see
what had caused it.
So Tommie and Neddie helped Aunt Piffy get up on her hind paws, and then
Neddie began gathering up the spilled cakes.
“May I help at that, too?” asked Tommie, and Aunt Piffy answered:
“I should be glad to have you. And you may have a doughnut, Tommie.”
“How about me?” asked Neddie, thinking perhaps he did not deserve one
for having been in such a hurry as to make his Aunt Piffy tumble down.
“Oh, well; yes, I guess you may have one also,” said the bear lady. By
this time she had her breath again and soon Neddie and Tommie had picked
up the doughnuts. They each kept one and ate them as they went out to
play.
But they had not been out long before Mrs. Stubtail called to her little
bear boy:
“Neddie, come right in here and pick up your things! You have scattered
your books all over, and your school cap is on the floor.”
“Oh, ma, I don’t want to!” exclaimed Neddie; but his mamma made him,
because it is not good for boys to be careless and scatter things all
over the room.
Then Neddie could play, and he and Tommie had lots of fun. They frisked
about in the woods, for it was cold and jumping about made them warm.
Then Tommie said:
“Oh, let’s go over and see Uncle Wiggily, the rabbit gentleman.”
“All right, we will,” spoke Neddie. “And I’ll ask him if he has yet made
up his mind about giving his old automobile to Uncle Wigwag.”
So the kitten boy and the little bear chap went over to the hollow stump
where the old gentleman rabbit lived, but he was not at home, having
gone for a ride with Grandfather Goosey Gander, the duck gentleman.
“Well, let’s take a walk in the woods and see if an adventure will
happen to us,” suggested Tommie.
“All right,” agreed Neddie, and off they went. They had not gone far
before they met Dickie Chip-Chip, the sparrow boy, flying through the
air, and Dickie said:
“Oh, Tommie Kat, your mamma is looking all over for you. She wants you
to go to the store.”
“Then I’d better go home,” said Tommie, and off he ran with his tail up
in the air like a fishing pole. That left Neddie all alone, for Dickie
Chip Chip could not stay to play with him.
“Never mind,” thought Neddie, “I’ll look for an adventure by myself.”
He went on and on, and pretty soon he came to a big hole in the ground.
He was looking down in it, thinking perhaps some new bear might live
there, when, all of a sudden, up from the hole was poked a long nose,
and then Neddie saw a big mouth, filled with shining white teeth, and a
voice cried:
“Ah, ha! Now I have you!” And the first thing Neddie knew the
skillery-scalery alligator, with the humps on his tail, had grabbed him
by the back of his neck.
“Oh, let me go! Let me go!” cried Neddie.
“No, I’ll not!” said the alligator, speaking in a thick voice, like cold
potatoes, for you see he had hold of Neddie by his teeth, and he could
not talk very well, that alligator couldn’t.
Neddie wiggled this way and that and tried to get loose. It did not hurt
him very much, for there was thick fur on the back of his neck, and the
alligator’s teeth did not go through. It was just like when the mamma
cat carries her little kittens, you know, in her mouth by the backs of
their necks. Only you must not carry the kittens that way unless papa or
mamma shows you how, for you might choke them. And I know you wouldn’t
do that for the world.
Anyhow, there the alligator had hold of Neddie by the loose skin at the
back of the little boy bear’s neck, and the skillery-scalery creature
was trying to drag Neddie down into the hole in the ground.
“Let me go! Let me go!” begged Neddie.
“Nope! Nope!” said the ’gator, pulling harder than ever.
Neddie braced with his claws in the dirt, but, in spite of this, he was
being dragged along, for the alligator was bigger and stronger than the
bear boy.
Neddie was almost down in the hole and he was wishing he had not gone
off alone to look for an adventure, when right behind him, he heard a
large bear growling. At first he hoped it was his papa or Uncle Wigwag,
the joking bear, or even Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear gentleman, who
had come to save him. But when he looked he saw it was a strange
man-bear.
However, that strange man-bear was very kind to Neddie. Rushing up to
the alligator, the big bear just tickled him on his thick and scaly hide
with his sharp claws, and that ’gator was so tickled, and he had to
laugh so hard, that he let Neddie go.
“Quick now!” cried the big bear, “jump out of the way, little bear boy!”
And you may be sure Neddie got out of the hole and the skillery-scalery
alligator, still laughing at being tickled, went and hid in the woods
and did not come out for a day and a half.
Then Neddie looked at the bear gentleman who had saved him. This bear
was very nice and kind-looking, only he had an iron ring in his nose,
and fastened to the ring was a long chain.
“What is that for?” asked Neddie, after he had gotten over being
frightened.
“That is so I will not get lost,” said the other. “You see I am a tame
bear, and do tricks, and my master has this ring in my nose, and leads
me around by it so I will not go away. And he feeds me buns and popcorn.
Oh, it’s nice to be a trained bear!”
“A trained bear, eh?” said Neddie. “Are you like a train of cars that I
got for Christmas?”
“No, I am trained to do tricks,” said the tame bear. “See, I will show
you,” and he stood on his head and turned a somersault, and then waltzed
around in a circle. “Would you not like to learn to do those things?” he
asked Neddie.
“Maybe,” said the little bear boy, who was not quite sure.
“Then come with me,” invited the tame bear.
But just then there was a rustling in the bushes and out came a real man
with a long pole and a brass horn. And he took hold of the tame bear’s
nose chain and looked at Neddie, the man did. And as Neddie had been
taught to be always afraid of men, the bear boy ran home through the
woods as fast as he could, and told all that had happened to him.
“It was a narrow escape for you,” said his papa. Then supper was ready
and Neddie and Beckie, his sister, ate as much as was good for them, and
not a bit more, I do assure you.
And in the next story, if the raisins in the rice pudding don’t all hop
out and leave it as full of holes as a Swiss cheese sandwich, I’ll tell
you about the little Stubtails running away.
STORY VI
THE STUBTAILS RUN AWAY
“What are you thinking of, Neddie?” asked Beckie Stubtail, the little
bear girl, one Saturday morning when there was no school and when she
and her brother were out in front of the cave-house brushing up the
dried leaves to make a bonfire.
“Oh, I’m not thinking of much,” said Neddie, with a look through the
woods to see if he could see his Uncle Wigwag trying to play any tricks
on him.
“Oh, but you must be thinking of something,” insisted Beckie. “For I
have had to speak to you twice before you answered, and when mamma asked
if you didn’t want to scrape out the frosting dish when she was making a
cake, you said: ‘I would if I didn’t have to have a ring in my nose.’
What in the world did you mean, Neddie?”
“Hush!” exclaimed the little bear boy, looking all around. “Not so loud.
Some one may hear you!”
“Well, what if they do?” asked Beckie in surprise. “I only said what you
said about having a ring in your nose——”
“Hush, that’s it!” exclaimed Neddie. “You know——”
“I know you said the tame trained bear had one,” went on Beckie, “but
what has that got to do with you!”
“Hush!” exclaimed Neddie, coming nearer and taking hold of Beckie’s paw,
“that’s it, Beckie. How would you like to become a trained bear and do
tricks, Beckie?”
“Like it? Why, I wouldn’t like it at all!” exclaimed the little bear
girl. “I think it would be perfectly horrid to have a ring in your
nose.”
“Well, maybe we wouldn’t have to,” went on her brother. “That’s what
I’ve been thinking of.”
“Why, Neddie Stubtail!” exclaimed Beckie. “I’m going straight and tell
mamma! The very idonical idea!”
“No, don’t do that!” cried Neddie, grabbing his sister by the paw before
she could run into the cave-house. “Wait and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Oh, I know,” spoke Beckie, and tears came into her eyes. “You’re
thinking of running away and becoming a trained bear! Oh, don’t do it!”
“Why not?” asked Neddie. “I think it would be fun. You know the day the
skillery-scalery alligator had me by the neck, the good tame bear came
along and tickled the ’gator so that he had to let me go.”
“Yes,” said Beckie. “I remember that, but I don’t see why——”
“Listen!” went on Neddie, just as the nice telephone girl says it,
“listen and I’ll tell you all about it.”
So Beckie listened as hard as she could.
“The trained tame bear said he could do lots of tricks,” went on Neddie,
“and he did some for me. And he also said the man gave him buns and
popcorn and lots of good things to eat.”
“Oh, but papa has always taught us to be afraid of real men,” said
Beckie.
“Yes, maybe real men, with guns and dogs. But this man only had a stick,
like mamma’s clothes pole, and a brass trumpet. And as I ran away
through the woods I could hear him blowing a lovely tune on it. I’m sure
he was a good man.”
“Well, maybe,” admitted Beckie. “But are you going to run away and
become a tame trained bear?”
“I’m thinking of it,” answered Neddie. “And maybe you would like to
come, too. Just imagine—sweet buns every day—and popcorn balls, no
lessons—and doing tricks, and having that man play on the brass horn for
you——”
Now it wasn’t right of Neddie to do this, and try to make Beckie come
away with him. It was bad enough for the little boy bear to think of
going off by himself. But when he wanted his sister to come, too—well,
it wasn’t right; that’s all. Neddie was older than Beckie and he should
have known better. But that’s the way it is sometimes, even with boys in
real life. Of course I don’t mean any of you, but there are some other
children I could name if I wanted to. But I’m not going to.
Well, anyhow, Neddie talked of how nice it would be for him and Beckie
to run away, and become trained bears, and do tricks, and have good
things to eat and finally Beckie said:
“Well, I’ll run away for a little while with you.”
“Yes, we’ll just try it. If we don’t like it we can run back again,”
spoke Neddie.
“Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow, the puppy dog boys, once ran away,” said
Beckie, “and they were glad enough to run home again.”
“I know, but this is different,” said Neddie; “they went to join a
circus. We’ll just go with a kind man. There will be all the difference
in the world.”
“All right, we’ll try it,” said Beckie, and she sighed a little at the
idea of leaving her mamma and papa and Uncle Wigwag, and Aunt Piffy and
Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear gentleman, and her nice cave-house, and
all that.
“Could I take any of my dolls with me?” asked Beckie, after a bit.
“Well, maybe one,” said Neddie, “though I never heard of anybody that
ran away taking a doll. But maybe one won’t do any harm.”
“Then I’m going to take Maryann Puddingstick Clothespin, my very nicest
doll,” said Beckie.
“All right,” agreed her brother. “Now we must get ready. And, mind you,
it’s a secret. No one must know anything about it.”
“Can’t I tell—tell mamma?” asked Beckie, tears coming in her eyes.
“No, not even mamma.”
“Then I’m not going!”
“Oh, that’s just like you girls!” cried Neddie. “We fellows get
everything going nicely and you won’t play fair. You can leave a note
for mamma, after we’re gone, telling that you’ve run away, if you like.”
“Then I’ll do it,” said Beckie.
“And you must pack up what clothes you’ll need,” went on Neddie. “Put
’em in a paper bag, and I’ll do the same. Then when it gets dark we’ll
go out and run away to find the man with the brass horn.”
“And when will we get some sweet buns and popcorn?” asked Beckie,
anxious-like.
“Oh, as soon as we find him,” said Neddie. “Now I’m going to get ready.
Mind! Not a word to anybody.”
So the two bear children prepared to run away. Of course I’m not saying
they did right—I guess you wouldn’t say so yourself, but I have to tell
this story exactly as it happened, or it wouldn’t be fair. Of course I
might make a mistake, but I’ll do as nearly right as I know how.
Neddie and Beckie packed up a few of their clothes in paper bags they
found in the kitchen. Beckie also took some things for her doll, Maryann
Puddingstick Clothespin. The doll herself the little bear girl wrapped
in an old salt bag that had been washed clean.
“I wonder what those two children are up to anyhow?” asked Aunt Piffy,
the fat bear lady as she helped Mrs. Stubtail do the washing.
“Oh, maybe they’re planning some trick to play on Uncle Wigwag, to pay
him back for all the joking he has done,” said Mrs. Stubtail. “I guess
they’re all right.”
But if she had only known what Neddie and Beckie were going to do. Oh
dear! Isn’t it too bad mothers don’t always know? They could save so
much trouble!
But there! I must tell about the story.
Beckie and Neddie had their supper, and they had hidden their bags of
things out under the front porch. They were not very hungry. They were
too excited; and then, too, they were thinking of what the bear man
might give them. Perhaps they were also a little sad about leaving their
nice home. But Neddie had made up his mind to run away.
Finally the bear children went off to bed. But they did not sleep, and
when the house was all dark and still they quietly got up and went out
the back door. Silently they went to where they had left their bundles
and got them.
“Come on!” whispered Neddie. “At last we’re running away!”