feet were caught in the sticky stuff and when the wolf tried to get
loose he only stuck the faster.
“Oh, wow!” howled the wolf. “Oh, dear, I’m caught!”
Uncle Wigwag, hiding behind the stump, heard the noisy noise and, not
yet having seen the wolf, he cried:
“Ah, ha! Now I have caught Neddie and Beckie. I guess this will be a
lesson to them not to take honey cakes again!”
Out rushed the old gentleman bear, and when he saw the wolf caught in
the glue, instead of the little bear cub children, Uncle Wigwag did not
know what to say, he was so surprised.
And when the wolf saw the bear gentleman he cried:
“Oh, dear! Don’t bite me! I’ll be good! I’ll not take any of your honey
cakes!”
“You’d better not,” spoke Uncle Wigwag. And then the wolf was so
frightened that he managed to pull his feet loose from the sticky glue,
and away he ran without a single honey cake.
And when Neddie and Beckie came along later to take some cakes,
intending to ask if they could eat them, they found every one so excited
at the bear cave that they didn’t take any cakes at all. Besides, Mamma
Stubtail had lifted the honey cakes inside after the wolf made such a
racket.
“But you were almost caught!” said Uncle Wigwag to Neddie and Beckie, as
he told them what he had heard them say. Then they promised never to
think of such a thing again, and their mamma gave them each some nice
honey cakes for supper. But the wolf had none, and it served him right.
So Uncle Wigwag played his trick just the same, though, on a wolf
instead of the bear children. Then Aunt Piffy scrubbed all the glue off
the back steps and everybody was happy.
And in the next story, if the molasses jug doesn’t go down cellar and
cry in the coal-bin so the coal is all stuck up, I’ll tell you about
Neddie and the kindling wood.
STORY XIX
NEDDIE AND THE KINDLING WOOD
“Neddie! Neddie! Where are you?” called Mrs. Stubtail, the mamma bear,
one afternoon as she stood on the back steps, which were still colored
dark from the glue that Uncle Wigwag had put there, the time Neddie and
Beckie were going to take the honey cakes, as I told you in the other
story. “Neddie! Neddie!” called the mamma bear.
There was no answer for a moment, and then Tommie, the little kitten
boy, came running as fast as he could run.
“What’s the matter, Tommie Kat?” asked Mrs. Stubtail. “Is a bad rat
chasing you?”
“Oh, no, not a bad rat,” answered Tommie, as he quickly hid under an old
ash can. “You see we’re playing hide and seek, and Neddie, he’s it. I’m
hiding away from him. Don’t tell where I am; will you?”
“Of course not,” said Mrs. Stubtail, with a laugh. “So that’s why Neddie
didn’t answer me,” she went on. “He’s playing a game. Very well, Tommie
Kat, but when you get in homefree, or when Neddie finds you, just tell
him for me, if you please, that I want to see him.”
“I will,” promised Tommie Kat, and then he pulled his tail in close
under the ash can so when Neddie came to look for him he wouldn’t see
him.
Truly enough, in a short time, Neddie Stubtail, the little boy bear,
came looking for all the animal children who were playing the game. He
found Jimmie Wibblewobble, the boy duck, hiding under some corn meal
sacks. Then he saw Johnnie Bushytail, the squirrel, in a nut bag, and
Neddie saw Jackie and Peetie Bow Wow cuddled up together behind the rain
water barrel.
But Neddie could not find Tommie Kat, and finally the little boy bear
had to call out:
“Givie up! Givie up! Come on in free!”
This meant that when Tommie ran out from where he was hiding Neddie
would not tag him, and the kitten boy would not be “it.” So out Tommie
came from under the ash can, and Neddie said:
“Oh, so that’s where you were; eh?”
“Sure I was,” said Tommie. “But say, Neddie, your mamma wants you.”
“Really?” asked Neddie.
“Really, truly, and truly ruly,” laughed Tommie.
Just then Mrs. Stubtail came out and called again:
“Neddie! Neddie! I want you!”
“What is it, mamma?” asked Neddie, politely, and wondering where he
would hide when it came his turn.
“I want you to bring me in some kindling wood for the stove, so I can
easily make a fire in the morning to get breakfast,” said the bear lady.
“Oh, mamma, I don’t want to!” exclaimed Neddie. “I want to play hide and
seek some more. It’s my turn to hide, and I know a dandy place where
they can’t find me. Sammie Littletail, the rabbit, has to be it, and
he’ll never find me.”
“Well, my dear little bear boy,” spoke Mrs. Stubtail, “I know you like
to play, but you must also help me. Bringing in the wood is one of your
tasks. So don’t make a fuss about it.”
“All right, mamma, I won’t,” said Neddie, eagerly. “Only do I have to
bring in the wood right away?”
“It would be better to get it in before dark,” said Mrs. Stubtail, “but
I don’t mind if you wait a little while longer. Only don’t forget it,
and don’t be too long. It soon gets dark, you know, and you can’t see to
get me nice sticks of wood. But go on and play a while longer.”
Mrs. Stubtail wanted to be kind to Neddie, but she also wished him to
feel that he had certain things to do, and must do them.
Well, Neddie went on playing hide and seek, and he hid in the big
clothes basket that was in the yard. He pulled a clean sheet from the
line over him, and really the basket looked as though it were filled
with clothes from the wash.
Of course when Sammie Littletail, the rabbit boy, who was searching for
the other animals this time, passed by the basket, he only saw the
sheet, and never thought that Neddie was hiding under it. So Sammie
didn’t find Neddie, though he did all the other animal boys, and such
fun as Neddie had when he ran in home free.
“I told you that you couldn’t find me!” he said, as he tried to stand on
one ear, but he couldn’t because his ear bent double. Then Neddie fell
down, and he knocked over Peetie Bow Wow and Peetie bumped up against
Jimmie Wibblewobble, the duck, and for a time it looked just like an
animal circus.
Well, Neddie Stubtail was having so much fun that he forgot all about
bringing in the kindling wood for his mamma. Then, all of a sudden it
got dark—so dark that the animal boys couldn’t play hide and seek any
more—and Neddie remembered the wood.
“Oh, dear!” he exclaimed.
“What’s the matter?” asked Charlie Chick, who was also playing the game.
“I forgot all about the wood,” spoke Neddie. “You stay and help me carry
it in; won’t you? I’ll give you a honey cake, if you do, Charlie.”
“Well, I’d like to very much,” said Charlie Chick, “for I am very fond
of honey cakes. But my mamma told me to come home just as soon as it got
dark. I’ve got to help shell some yellow corn for breakfast. Good-bye!”
Then Charlie Chick trotted off to his chicken coop, and all the other
animal boys went to their homes, though Neddie asked each of them to
stay and help him bring in the wood.
But none of them could, for they, too, had little things to do at home.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Neddie. “I’ve got to bring in the kindling wood all
alone. And it’s dark! But I suppose it serves me right for letting it go
so long. Next time I’ll not.” And I suppose it did serve Neddie right,
though that did not make it any the more pleasant.
So the little bear boy went out to the woodpile. It was so dark he could
hardly see, but still he was brave, and he made up his mind he was not
going to ask Uncle Wigwag, or Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear, to help
him.
“For it’s my own fault for not bringing in the wood earlier,” thought
Neddie.
He hurried all he could, and brought in one pawful, which he put in the
wood-box behind the stove. His mamma didn’t say anything when Neddie
stood there in the kitchen a minute, sort of waiting-like, as though he
hoped she would excuse him.
Mamma Stubtail really felt sorry for her little bear cub, but she knew
it would be a good lesson to him. And there are more kinds of lessons in
this world than you learn from your school books, you know.
So Neddie went out to the woodpile again, and it was darker than ever.
The little bear boy piled his paws full of the firesticks and started
for the house. It was quite a distance, and before Neddie got there some
one stepped up behind him and grabbed him tightly.
“Oh, dear!” cried the little bear boy. “Who is it?”
“It is I! The skillery-scalery alligator!” was the answer, given in a
shivery sort of voice. “At last I have you! I have been waiting until it
was dark enough for me to carry you off without any one seeing me. Now
I’ve got you. Come along!”
“No, I’m not going!” cried Neddie, and he struggled to get loose. But he
couldn’t, for the ’gator held him too tightly.
“Oh, help! help!” cried poor Neddie.
“Hush! No more of that!” snarled the skillery alligator, and he held one
paw over Neddie’s mouth so the little bear boy couldn’t call for help.
“Come along!” cried the alligator, and he started to drag Neddie away.
And then the little bear cub thought of something. In his paws were a
lot of sharp, jagged sticks of wood. As quickly as a flash Neddie
dropped all but one of these sticks of wood. This one he grasped tightly
in his paws, and with that stick he gave that bad alligator such a whack
on his nose that tears came into his eyes.
“Oh, wow! Trolley cars, and ice cream cones! What happened to me?” cried
the alligator. “Did it thunder and lightning?”
“No! I did it with my little stick!” cried Neddie and he gave the ’gator
another whack, if you will excuse my saying so. Then the alligator cried
“Wow!” again, and more tears came into his eyes, and he could not see
through so much salt water, and then Neddie managed to wiggle loose and
run into the house. And the ’gator had too much of a toothache to
follow, so the little bear boy got away after all. And the
skillery-scalery alligator went to the dentist’s, to have his tooth
fixed.
After that, Uncle Wigwag helped the little bear boy bring in the rest of
the wood, and never again did Neddie let his work go until dark. And on
the next page, if the coffee grinder doesn’t take a bite out of the gas
stove and make it sing in its sleep, I’ll tell you about Beckie and her
cough medicine.
STORY XX
BECKIE AND HER COUGH MEDICINE
“Ker-choo! Ker-choo! Ker-choo!” sneezed little Beckie Stubtail, the bear
girl, as she sat up in her bed of straw one night. “Ker-choo!
A-ker-choo! Boo-hoo!”
“My goodness me sakes alive and some castor oil!” cried Aunt Piffy, the
nice old bear lady, waking up from a sound sleep in the next room. “What
ever is the matter, Beckie?”
“Oh, dear! I don’t know!” cried Beckie, as she rubbed her eyes in the
dark. “But I feel so queer! My nose is all stopped up, and I can’t
breathe and my throat tickles and I’m cold——”
“Oh my goodness!” cried Aunt Piffy, jumping out of bed so quickly that
she almost stepped on the pussy cat’s tail.
Mrs. Stubtail, the mamma bear, had also heard her little cub girl
sneezing and coughing, and Mamma Stubtail jumped up too, and ran to
Beckie’s room, turning up the night light so she could see what was the
matter.
“What is it, Beckie? What has happened?” asked mamma.
“Oh, dear! I’m so miserable,” said poor Beckie, crying.
“Oh, no wonder!” remarked Aunt Piffy. “See, she is all uncovered, and
she has taken cold. We must put her feet in hot mustard water at once,
and send for Dr. Possum. Oh, the dear child is going to be ill!”
“I hope not,” said Mamma Stubtail, but she was afraid just the same.
Then such a time as there was with the two lady bears bustling around to
look after Beckie. And all through it Papa Stubtail never waked up, for
he had worked hard that day, and was a sound sleeper. But Uncle Wigwag,
the funny old bear gentleman, did awaken, and, putting on his dressing
gown and slippers, he stuck his head in Beckie’s room, and asked:
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Yes,” said Aunt Piffy. “You might heat some water. We want to give
Beckie a hot bath.”
“I will,” said Uncle Wigwag, and he didn’t try to play any tricks at all
then, but heated the water at once. And Uncle Wigwag was very fond, too,
of playing tricks and jokes, let me tell you.
Well, soon Beckie was nice and warm, and she had soaked her paws in
mustard water, and taken some sweet medicine. And all this while Neddie
her little bear brother, had not awakened from his sleep.
But Mamma Stubtail and Aunt Piffy were kept very busy until nearly
morning looking after Beckie. Finally she did not cough or sneeze so
much, and she fell asleep. Everybody was glad.
“When it’s morning we’ll have Dr. Possum,” said Mrs. Stubtail, softly.
Well, morning came after a while, but it always seems to come very
slowly when you are awake and waiting for it, especially if some one is
ill. And Beckie was quite ill. She seemed to get worse all the while.
When Dr. Possum came, right after breakfast, he felt of Beckie’s paw to
tell how fast her pulse was beating. Then he made her put out her tongue
to see how red it was, and the animal doctor gentleman said:
“Yes, Beckie is a pretty sick little bear girl. But I think I can cure
her. She needs some cough medicine.”
“Will it be bad, bitter medicine, doctor?” asked Beckie, as she sat up
in bed, with a dry-leaf quilt wrapped around her.
“Well, Beckie, I might as well tell you the truth, for you would find it
out anyhow as soon as you tasted it,” said Dr. Possum. “The cough
medicine is going to be very bitter and bad. I will not deceive you. But
I can do one thing—I can make it a pretty color.”
“Do, please, then,” begged Beckie. “But why is it that you doctors can’t
make medicine that is not bitter?”
“I’ll tell you why, Beckie,” spoke Dr. Possum. “You see the bad cold or
other disease gets inside you and it likes you so well it stays there,
and as long as it stays you can’t get better. So we give bitter
medicines—not to you, but to the bad cold that’s inside you.
“And when the cold sees that bad, bitter medicine coming down your dear
little red throat, the cold says to itself:
“‘Ha! Hum! This is no place for me! I’d better get out!’ And out the
cold goes, and then you get better. That’s what bitter medicines are
for.”
“I see,” said Beckie. “Well, I’ll take it.”
“And you can make as many faces as you like when you swallow it,” said
Dr. Possum with a laugh. Then he mixed up some bitter cough medicine for
Beckie, but he colored it pink, just to match the shade of the little
bear girl’s hair ribbon.
“There, now,” said the possum doctor gentleman. “You can make believe
it’s pink candy syrup, Beckie.”
“I’ll have to make believe very, very hard to do that,” said Beckie,
smiling the least little bit.
Well, Dr. Possum went away, and Beckie had her first dose of the bitter
cough medicine. It was so bad and sour and puckery that she made a
terribly funny face when she took it. It was such a funny, queer face
that Neddie, her brother, who was watching her take the medicine, had to
laugh. And, as he was drinking a glass of water just at that minute, the
water spilled all over him, of course.
“Well, Neddie,” said his mamma, “I guess you had better go on to school.
This is no place for you.”
So Neddie went to school, and Beckie stayed home with her cough and the
pink, bitter cough medicine. For some time she felt quite miserable, and
then the medicine made her sleepy.
And Aunt Piffy, who was taking care of Beckie, said to herself:
“Well, now, as long as she’s quiet, I’ll have time to run across the
street and get some sugar from Mrs. Wibblewobble, the duck lady. I will
make Beckie a little sugar candy to take after her medicine.”
So Aunt Piffy, leaving Beckie asleep, stepped out of the bear cave. And,
as it happened, Mrs. Stubtail had gone out, too. She went over to Mrs.
Kat’s house to see about getting a thimbleful of thread to sew some shoe
buttons on Mr. Stubtail’s coat. That left Beckie sleeping all alone in
the house, for Neddie, her brother, had gone to school, and Mr.
Whitewash, the polar bear, had gone out hunting after honey, and Uncle
Wigwag, the funny bear, was over calling on Grandfather Goosey Gander,
the duck gentleman.
And a bad old lion, who used to work in a circus, came along just then.
Seeing the door of the bear cave open, as Aunt Piffy had left it when
she went out, the lion said:
“Ah, ha! I’m going in here! Perhaps I shall find something good to eat!”
In he went, and he saw Beckie asleep in her bed.
“Ah, ha! A little bear girl!” growled the lion. “The very thing for me!
I’ll take her away with me!”
He was lifting Beckie up in his big paws, and was just walking away with
her, when the little bear girl awoke. And she was so frightened at
seeing the lion that she coughed and sneezed and choked something
dreadful. Oh, yes, indeed!
“A-ker-choo! Ker-fooz! Ach! Hoch! Pitzel!” sneezed Beckie. “Oh, dear!”
she cried.
“Keep quiet!” said the lion, rudely enough. “Some one will hear you!”
“That’s what I want,” said Beckie. “Oh, please let me alone.”
“No! No!” growled the lion. Then Beckie coughed some more, and her
throat hurt her, and she saw the bottle of pink, bitter medicine Dr.
Possum had left on her table.
“Oh, please let me take some of that pink stuff!” begged Beckie of the
lion.
Now, the lion had some good in him, after all, and when he saw how much
Beckie was suffering, he handed her the bottle of cough medicine. Beckie
took some, and it stopped her cough at once, but she made such a funny
face when she swallowed it that the lion cried:
“Ha! That must be fine stuff to have you make such a funny face. I must
look into this. Yes, indeed!”
“Would you like some of my cough medicine?” asked Beckie, hoping the
lion would take some. She knew what it would do to him.
“Indeed, I will,” the lion said; “I’ll drink the whole bottle full of
pink stuff, and then you’ll see what a queer face I’ll make.”
So the lion tipped up the bottle of bitter, sour, pink cough medicine
and swallowed it all at once. Of course it wasn’t meant to be taken that
way—not even by a lion—all at once.
And such a face as the lion made! It was seven different kinds of a face
at once, and then the lion howled and roared and said, “Oh, dear!” for
his throat seemed to be on fire.
And then, without trying to bother Beckie any more, out of the window
the lion jumped, to run off to find some ice water, so his throat
wouldn’t burn from the cough medicine.
Of course Beckie’s medicine was all gone, but it did not matter, for her
cold was soon better. I don’t know whether it was from the medicine she
took, or whether the lion scared the cold away.
Anyhow, Beckie got all well, and the lion didn’t bother her again for
more than a week.
And, if the bag of peanuts doesn’t step on the elephant’s toe and make
him sneeze, I’ll tell you next about Neddie and the tooting horn.
STORY XXI
NEDDIE AND THE TOOTING HORN
“Mamma, can’t Beckie come out and play?” asked Neddie, the little bear
boy, as he ran home from school one afternoon. “I came home early on
purpose. It was such a nice, sunny day that teacher said I might come
out before the others, to amuse Beckie.”
“That was very kind of you,” spoke Mrs. Stubtail, “and I think I will
let Beckie out a little while. But you must look after her, and see that
she does not stay late, for it gets cold after the sun goes down, and
you know she is hardly over her cough yet.”
“Oh, I’ll be careful of her,” said Neddie, and he was so glad he could
take out his little sick sister, that he stood up on the end of his
short, stubby tail.
That is, Neddie tried to stand on the end of his tail, but the truth of
the matter is, my dear little friends, that Neddie was getting to be
such a fat, heavy little chap of a bear cub that his tail would not hold
him any more.
So over he fell, ker-thump-o! But he landed in a pile of leaves so he
was not hurt at all.
“Don’t let Beckie try that, Neddie,” said Mrs. Stubtail, with a laugh.
“She is only just out of a sick bed, you know.”
“I won’t!” laughed Neddie, as he picked himself up and brushed off the
leaves. You know I told you, in the story before this one, how Beckie
had to take some pink, bitter medicine for her cough that Dr. Possum
gave her. Hold on, I don’t mean that Dr. Possum gave her the cough—no,
he gave her the medicine to cure it. And a bad lion got in after Beckie,
and he swallowed the whole bottle of medicine and that gave him such a
conniption fit that he was glad to leave the little girl bear alone.
So while Neddie waited outside the bear cave, Mrs. Stubtail went inside
to get Beckie ready to take a little walk in the woods.
“Oh, it is just lovely to get out again, after being in the house so
long!” sighed Beckie, as she walked along with her brother Neddie,
holding his paw.
Neddie was as nice as could be, and he walked slowly with his sister who
had been ill, taking good care that she did not stumble over a stick or
a stone.
On and on they went, and pretty soon, when Neddie was thinking it was
about time to start for home with his sister, all of a sudden they heard
a tooting horn in the woods.
“Hark! what’s that?” cried Beckie, giving a jump.
“I don’t know,” answered Neddie, and he looked all around, ready to run
in case there should be danger.
“Maybe it’s a hunter and his dogs,” suggested Beckie. “Oh, Neddie, I’m
so frightened!”
“Don’t be frightened, Beckie,” he said gently. “I’ll take care of you.
Maybe, after all, it’s only the nice trained bear, George, and the
professor man who toots on his brass horn.”
“Oh, but if it’s he maybe he’ll want to take us back to the circus
barn,” went on Beckie. “I wouldn’t like that.”
“Nor I,” said Neddie. “But I don’t believe it is. Let’s take a look.”
So the two bear children looked all around, and then they heard the
tooting horn again. And this time they saw who was blowing it. It was a
hunter man, and he had his gun and his dog with him.
“Quick! Jump behind this big tree!” cried Neddie, and he helped Beckie
to hide herself. They were only just in time, too, for just then the
hunter looked around, and he might have seen the bear children, except
for the tree.
Then the hunter blew his horn again, and, not seeing anything to shoot,
he whistled to his dog, put his gun over his shoulder and slinging the
horn by his side, down the hill he went, leaving Beckie and Neddie
alone. And, oh, how happy they were!
“Well, I’m glad that’s over,” said Beckie, with a long breath. “We won’t
come to these woods again.”
“I guess not,” said Neddie. “Let’s hurry home.”
“What kind of a horn was it that the hunter man had?” asked Beckie, as
she and her brother took hold of paws again, and started for home. “It
wasn’t at all like the one the professor man blew on. His was brass.”
“I know it,” answered Neddie, “and this one was made of birch bark,
rolled up like a cornucopia such as come on Christmas trees. Only those
are filled with candy, and this one had nothing but air in it.”
“I see,” said Beckie. “And can you blow on a birch bark horn, Neddie?”
“I can blow a little bit on that kind of a horn,” said Neddie. “But we’d
better not stop now to try it. Let’s hurry home.”
So the two little bear children went on, over hills and dales, and
through the woods.
Now, whether they were not careful to take the right path, or whether
the hunter and his dog and gun had so scared them that they didn’t know
what they were doing, I can’t begin to say. It might have been one
thing, and then, again, on the other hand, it might have been something
else. And I don’t want to make a mistake.
Anyhow, the first thing Beckie and Neddie realized was that they were
lost. They didn’t know where they were, nor how to get home. All they
knew was that they were in the woods, some distance from home, and night
was coming on.
“Oh, dear!” cried Beckie, when she saw that Neddie did not know his way
home. “Oh, dear me!”
“Don’t worry, sister dear,” he said. “I’ll take care of you,” and he put
his paws about her.
“Oh, I know you will,” said Beckie, “and you are as kind as you can be;
but, still, and with all that, if I stay out after dark my cold may get
worse again, and I’ll have to take more of that bitter medicine.”
“You can’t!” exclaimed Neddie. “The bad lion swallowed it all for you!”
“Oh, but Dr. Possum can make plenty more, and maybe worse than that!”
cried Beckie. “Oh, dear! Where is our home? It’s lost!”
“No, it’s we who are lost,” said Neddie, with a laugh. “Our house is
just where it always was.” And he giggled again. He didn’t feel very
much like laughing, you know, but he did it to cheer up his little
sister. It’s a good thing to laugh, sometimes, even when you don’t feel
like it.
Well, it kept getting darker and darker, and Beckie was more and more
frightened, even though Neddie was as jolly as he could be. Finally he
said:
“We’ll just call for help. Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear, or our papa,
or Uncle Wigwag might be roaming through these woods, and they’d hear us
and take us home.”
“Oh, then, holler as loudly as you can,” said Beckie. “Perhaps mamma, or
Aunt Piffy, is out looking for us.”