BEDELIA GROWS A TAIL
BEDELIA was an extremely handsome bear, as Teddy Bears go, but for some
time she had been plunged in inexpressible gloom because she possessed
no tail. In vain her family expostulated with her, pointing out the
fact that a bear with a tail would indeed be a freak and a monstrosity.
Bedelia persisted in her notion, unreasonable as it was, and very
nearly succeeded in driving Peter Pan to the verge of insanity. For
although she led him a merry dance as a rule, he was extremely fond of
her, and being of a chivalrous nature, made all sorts of excuses for
her queer notions. Therefore he had very nearly arrived at his wits’
end when Bedelia suddenly ceased her lamentations and became quite
cheerful—a change which, had Peter Pan only read her aright, would have
appeared ominous. However, the poor fellow was so delighted at seeing
his wife once more like her former self that he suspected nothing, not
even when Bedelia began to absent herself at intervals from the family
circle.
[Illustration]
Truth to tell, Bedelia had a great deal more sense than most humans and
realized after a little that scolding and fretting would never attain
the end in view. She wanted a tail, and a tail she meant to have, and
immediately began to cast around in her fertile mind as to the means
that she should use to accomplish her end. She was far too cute to ask
advice from those who had so discouraged her, but waited with trembling
anxiety for the inevitable something which is sure to turn up sooner or
later. It is a long lane, indeed, that has no turning, but the further
one progresses, the nearer it is to the end; and Bedelia helped along
the somewhat tedious waiting by a series of experiments that would have
filled the breast of the gloomiest with hysterical mirth.
The beautiful, feathery appendage of Rough House had at first attracted
her attention as he held it aloft and waved it plume-like in the
air. But somehow Rough House had been very rude and had nipped her
smartly when she laid hold and began a series of heroic tugs. And she
had retreated in disorder with a rip in her coat, made by the dog’s
gleaming teeth. Afterward she reflected that the tail was far too large
and would not have matched her own fur anyway. This thought brought
consolation and she proceeded to turn her attention and her energies in
other directions. But try as she might, she could find nothing in the
line of a tail that became her. She tried them all from every animal
in the nursery, and nurse, finding them one by one lying on the floor,
had shaken her head as she attached them successively to their original
owners. She had her own ideas on the subject and they chiefly included
rats, or perhaps little Rags who was getting his second teeth and
might incline toward chewing things up. Sally alone suspected Bedelia,
but was unable to catch her at her evil-doing, as she carried on her
marauding chiefly in the silent night.
Having weighed in the balance and found wanting all the ready-made
tails she could find, she looked about for something out of which to
manufacture the right thing. Nothing, however, presented itself, and
Bedelia realized that she could scarcely have formed so important an
article with her own clumsy paws, even if it had. So for the time
her occupation seemed gone, and she began to mope again, filled with
chagrin that all her efforts should thus be foiled.
Meantime the summer waned and crisp nights began to suggest fall
weather. One bright afternoon Bedelia had been sitting curled up on
the broad window-seat on which she and her family kept house, pouting
as usual and longing for something in the shape of mischief with which
to occupy her rapacious paws. Sally and nurse were busy making doll
clothes, as several occupants of the Walking House were still without
suitable outfits. Suddenly nurse exclaimed,
“I believe it is soon going to be time for furs. Do you mind, darlin’,
the nice set your aunt, Miss Edith, gave me Christmas, with all thim
little tails on the muff?”
Tails! Bedelia’s ears were pricked up in a moment. Tails, and fur
tails, too! Well she remembered the day in early spring when all the
furs of the household had been aired and beaten and hung out in the sun
before being laid away in boxes, liberally sprinkled with camphor and
finally the covers all pasted up with strips of paper. They had been
put away in the big store-room at the top of the house, and Bedelia
knew exactly where they were. But she knew, also, that the store-room
was always kept locked and she did not feel very sure where the key was
kept.
She determined, however, to lose no time in looking for the bunch, and
although it took nearly a week of investigation, they were found at
last, and Bedelia lugged them off and hid them in a place whereof she
knew, and which already contained a motley array of articles which at
one time or other her fancy had prompted her to filch.
Several more days elapsed before a suitable opportunity to visit the
store-room occurred. But at last Bedelia found herself standing in
front of it with the bunch of keys in her eager paws. Behind the locked
door lay the darling wish of her heart, a tail, and in a moment she
had, as if by magic, selected the right key and swung open the heavy
door.
Now a new difficulty confronted her, one of which she had not even
dreamed. There were at least a dozen boxes standing on the shelves, all
neatly labelled, of course. But Bedelia could not read, and no good
fairy appeared to tell her which box contained nurse’s furs and the
particular tail. So she stood gloomily gazing into the closet and at
last concluded that much as she hated to take the trouble, there was
but one thing to do and that was to open every box until she discovered
the right one. This she at once set at work to do, tearing and ripping
with a pair of scissors that she had brought along, emptying out furs
and camphor in a promiscuous heap, dumping the contents of one box on
top of another until the erstwhile orderly store-room presented the
appearance of a rummage sale.
[Illustration]
Now, had Sally been conducting the investigation, she would have known
that the sets of furs were kept in the smaller boxes, while fur robes
and so on were pinned in big bundles. But Bedelia, of course, never
stopped to think of that so it fell out that nearly everything else
in the closet was ripped open and flung out on the floor before she
came across the box in which the coveted furs reposed. They were very
respectable furs of a shade of brown that seemed to Bedelia just the
proper one to harmonize with her own skin. And there were tails in
plenty, more tails than Bedelia’s wildest dreams had ever conjured. She
felt that she could wallow in tails now if she chose, and it did not
take her long to get possession of what she wanted. She nipped off half
a dozen, taking them from the neckpiece to which they were attached
by little, pointed heads, each one with its ferocious mouth wide open
displaying a number of tiny, white teeth.
Gathering up her treasures, she hurried downstairs, having taken care
to lock the door and replace the key where it had originally hung. Then
holding fast to the bunch of stolen fur, she hurriedly sought a quiet
corner in the attic, whither she often fled when for any reason she
wanted to be by herself.
A big, old mirror in a tarnished frame stood on the floor and after
something of a struggle, for the thing was heavy, Bedelia arranged it
so that she could see herself to full advantage.
[Illustration]
Everybody knows that Teddy Bears have great facilities for looking over
their shoulders. In fact, when built as a Teddy Bear should be, they
can turn their heads all the way around. Consequently Bedelia found no
difficulty in getting a full view of herself in the rear as she stood
with her back to the glass, the tail in one paw and a couple of pins
in the other. She had decided to leave the little head as it made an
admirable finish for the tail, and really gave a very jaunty appearance
to the whole. So she concluded after having clapped the whole into
place and fastened it firmly with two large shawl pins. So delighted
was she with the result that she stood before the mirror for a long
time, craning her neck and twisting her head around while she admired
her new ornament. To be sure, the head was in a place where no head
ought to be, but it grinned jubilantly while the tail flopped joyfully
as its owner walked. Finally, like Narcissus, satiated with the view of
her own loveliness, she concluded to descend to the lower regions and
show off the latest addition to her charms.
Down the stairs she trotted, trying to get used to the rather queer
sensation of the tail flapping against her hind legs. Luckily she met
nobody till she reached the nursery. Here her courage suddenly deserted
her and she made a wild break for the window-seat, in the corner of
which she at once threw herself and was making believe to be fast
asleep when a most unforeseen event occurred. The head, which we have
already recorded as being in a place where no head should be, objected
to the full weight of Bedelia’s plump body upon it, and proceeded to
nip her so vigorously that she sprang up, shrieking.
Peter Pan, who had at first thought that to let her alone was perhaps
the better policy, now flew to the rescue, but when he discovered
the cause of the trouble, he rolled on the floor in convulsions of
laughter. The head kept on nipping for pure viciousness, and poor
Bedelia, half crazed with pain and mortification, raised a dreadful
wail that brought all the members of her family to the rescue. Quite
willing to be relieved of the source of her discomfort, she melted
completely under her husband’s affectionate caresses, and finally
acknowledged that Teddy Bears really had no pressing need of caudal
appendages.