THE grandmother all this time was wondering
very much where her Toto was. “What
can have become of the boy?” she said to herself
for the twentieth time. “He is always punctual
at supper-time; and now it is more than an
hour past. It must be quite dark, too, in the
wood. Where _can_ he be?” And she went to the
door and listened, as she had been listening ever
since six o’clock. “Toto!” she said aloud. “Toto,
do you hear me?” But no sound came in
reply, save the distant hoot of an owl; and reluctantly
the good woman closed the door again, and
went back to her knitting. She felt very anxious,
very much troubled; but what could she do?
Blind and alone, she was quite helpless. Suppose
the boy should have wandered off into some distant
part of the forest, and lost his way? Suppose
he should have encountered some fierce wild
beast, unlike the friendly creatures with whom he
played every day? Suppose—But here the
current of her anxious thoughts was interrupted
by a sound; a curious sound,—a soft _thud_ against
the door, followed by a scratching noise, and a
sound of heavy breathing.
The poor grandmother turned cold with fear;
she did not dare to move for some minutes; but
the thud was repeated several times, as if somebody
were trying to knock. She tottered towards
the door, and said in a tremulous voice, “Who is
there?”
“Only Bruin, ma’am,” was the reply, in a meek
growl.
Oh, how relieved the grandmother was! With
hands that still trembled she unfastened the door.
“Oh, Mr. Bruin!” she cried. “Dear Mr. Bruin,
I am so glad you have come! Can you tell me
anything about Toto? He has not come home,
and I am very anxious indeed. I fear he may
have met some wild creature, and—”
“Well, ma’am,” said the bear slowly, “as for
being wild—well, yes; perhaps you _would_ call her
wild. And I don’t say she was amiable, and she
was certainly very free in the matter of claws;
very free, indeed, she was!”
“What _do_ you mean, Mr. Bruin?” cried the
poor old lady. “Claws? Oh! then I know he _has_
been attacked, and you know all about it, and
have come to break it to me. My boy! my boy!
Tell me quickly where he is, and what has happened
to him!”
“Don’t be alarmed, ma’am,” said Bruin. “Pray
don’t be alarmed! there are no bones broken, I
assure you; and as for _her_, you need have no
further anxiety. I—I saw to the matter myself,
and I have no reason to think—no, I really have
_no_ reason to think that you will have any further
trouble with her.”
“_Her!_” said the bewildered old grandmother.
“I don’t—I _can’t_ understand you, Mr. Bruin. I
want to know what has become of Toto, my
boy.”
“Certainly, certainly,” said the bear hastily.
“Very natural, I’m sure; don’t mention it, I beg
of you. As for a little blood, you know,” he added
apologetically, “that couldn’t be helped, you see.
I didn’t come up quite soon enough; but we know
the blood is _there_, after all; and a little of it outside
instead of inside,—why, what difference does it
make? He has plenty left, you know.”
“Bruin, Bruin!” cried a faint voice, “do stop!
You will frighten her to death with your explanations.
Here I am, Granny dear, safe and
sound, barring a few scratches.” And Toto, who
had been gradually recovering his senses during
the last few minutes, raised himself from the doorstep
on which the bear had laid him, and flung his
arms round his grandmother’s neck.
The poor old woman gave a cry of joy, and then
burst into tears, being quite overcome by the sudden
change from grief and anxiety to security and
delight.
At the sight of her tears, the worthy Bruin
uttered a remorseful growl, and boxed his own
ears several times very severely, assuring himself
that he was quite the most stupid beast that
ever lived, and that he was always making a
mess of it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,
ma’am,” he said, “I didn’t indeed; but I am such
a stupid! And now,” he added, “I think I must
be going. Good-night, ma’am.”
“What!” cried Toto, turning from his grandmother,
and throwing his arms in turn round the
bear’s huge shaggy neck. “Going, before we
have thanked you? Going off without a word,
after saving my life? Oh, you unnatural old
Bruin! you shall not stir! Do you know, Granny,
that he has saved my life from the owls, and that
if it had not been for him you would have no Toto
at all, but only a hundred little bits of him?” And
he told the whole story in glowing words, while
Bruin hung his head and shuffled from one foot to
another, much abashed at hearing his own praises.
And when the grandmother had heard all about
it, what did she do? Why, she too put her arms
round the huge shaggy neck; and if ever a bear
came near being hugged to death, it was that
bear.
“And now,” said the grandmother, when she
had recovered her composure, and had thanked
and blessed Bruin till he did not know whether he
had one head or seven, “it is very late, and I am
sure you must be tired. Why will you not stay
and spend the night with us? There is a beautiful
fire in the kitchen, and a nice soft rug in front
of it, on which you could sleep very comfortably.
Do stay!”
The bear rubbed his nose and looked helplessly
at Toto. “I don’t think—” he began.
“Of course he will stay,” said Toto decidedly.
“There isn’t any ‘thinking’ about it. He will
stay. Walk in, old fellow, and sit down in front
of the fire, and Granny will give us both some
supper. Oh! my Granny dear, if you _knew_ how
hungry I am!”
It would have been a pleasant sight, had there
been any one there to enjoy it, to see the trio
gathered around the bright wood-fire an hour
later. The grandmother sat in her high-backed
arm-chair, in snowy cap and kerchief, knitting and
smiling, smiling and knitting, as happy and contented
as a grandmother could possibly be. On
the other side of the hearth sat the bear, blinking
comfortably at the fire, while Toto leaned against
his shaggy side, and chattered like a magpie.
“How jolly this is!” he said. “It reminds me
of Snow-White and Rose-Red, when the bear came
and slept in front of the fire. By the way, Bruin,
you are not an enchanted prince, are you? The
bear in that story was an enchanted prince.
What fun if you should be!”
“Not to my knowledge,” replied the bear,
shaking his head. “Not—to—my—knowledge.
Never heard of such a thing in our branch of the
family. I had a cousin once who travelled with a
showman, but that is the only thing of the kind
that I know of.”
“Tell us about your cousin!” said Toto, eager,
as usual, for a story. “How came he to take to
the show business?”
“The man taught him to beat the drum.”
“It took him,” said Bruin. “He was taken
when he was a little fellow, only a few months
old. The man who caught him made a pet of him
at first; taught him to dance, and shake paws,
and beat the drum. He was a drummer in the
army,—the man, I mean. He was very kind,
and my cousin grew extremely fond of him.”
“What was your cousin’s name?” asked Toto.
“They called him ‘Grimshaw;’” said Bruin.
“His master’s name was Shaw, and he was grim,
you know, when he didn’t like people, and so
they called him ‘Grimshaw.’ He mostly _didn’t_
like people,” added the bear reflectively. “He
certainly didn’t like the showman.”
“Then Shaw was not the showman?” said Toto.
“Oh, dear, no!” said Bruin. “A war broke
out, and Shaw’s regiment was ordered off, and he
couldn’t take Grimshaw with him. He was very
big then, and the other soldiers didn’t like him.
He had a way of going into the different tents
and taking anything he happened to fancy for
supper; and if any one said anything to him, he
boxed that one’s ears. They always tumbled down
when he boxed their ears, and they made a great
fuss about it, and so finally his master was obliged
to sell him to the showman. _His_ name was Jinks.
“He taught my cousin several new tricks, and
took him all over the country, exhibiting him in
the different towns and villages. You see,” said
Bruin apologetically, “he—I mean Grimshaw—didn’t
know any better. He was so young
when he was taken that he didn’t remember
much about his family, and didn’t know what an
undignified sort of thing it was to be going about
in that way. One day, however, Jinks undertook
to make him waltz with a piece of meat on his
nose, without attempting to eat it. Grimshaw
would not do that, because he didn’t think it was
reasonable; and I don’t think it was. So then
Jinks attempted to beat him, and Grimshaw boxed
his ears, and he tumbled down and didn’t get up
again. Grimshaw waited a few minutes, and finding
that he did not seem inclined to move, he ran
away and took to the woods.”
“But why did not the showman get up?” inquired
the grandmother innocently.
“I think it highly probable that he was dead,
madam,” replied Bruin. “But I cannot say positively,
as I was not there.
“After this Grimshaw lived alone for some time,
wandering about from one forest to another. One
day, as he was roaming up and down, he came
suddenly upon a party of soldiers, three or four
in number, sitting round a fire, and cooking their
dinner. The moment they saw the bear, they
dropped everything, and ran for their lives, leaving
the good chops to burn, which was a sin. It
was a good thing for Grimshaw, however, as he
was very hungry; so he sat down by the fire and
made a hearty meal. After he had dined comfortably,
he began to look about him, and spied a
big drum, which the soldiers had left behind in
their flight. Seizing the drumsticks, he began to
beat a lively tattoo. In a few moments he heard
a rustling among the bushes, and saw a man’s
head thrust cautiously out. What was his delight
to recognize his old master, Sergeant Shaw! He
threw down the drumsticks and uttered a peculiar
howl. It was answered by a shrill whistle, and in
another moment Shaw and Grimshaw were in
each other’s arms. When the other soldiers ventured
to return, they found the two gravely dancing
a hornpipe, with great mutual satisfaction.”
“Oh! how delightful!” exclaimed Toto. “And
did they stay together after that?”
“They found the two dancing a hornpipe.”
“No, that was impossible,” replied the bear.
“But they spent a couple of days together, and
parted with the utmost good-will.
“After roaming about for some time longer, my
cousin met some other bears, who invited him to
join them. To their great amazement, one of
them turned out to be Grimshaw’s elder brother;
he recognized Grimshaw by one of his ears, out of
which he had himself bitten a piece in their infancy.
This was a very joyful meeting, and led
to the restoration of Grimshaw to his parents, who
were still alive. He spent the remainder of his
life in peace and happiness; and that is all there is
to tell about him.
“And now,” continued Bruin, “you ought to
have been asleep long ago, Toto, and I have been
keeping you awake with my long story. Off with
you, now! And good-night to you too, dear
madam. I will lie here in front of the fire; and
if any creature, human or otherwise, comes to
disturb the house during the night, I will attend
to that creature!”