Part 11

“What’s a pollylop?” asked Beckie, as she caught a snowflake on the end of her tongue, just as the clown in the circus catches a little piggie by his tail. “I never heard of a pollylop, Neddie.”

“Why,” said the little bear boy, “a pollylop is just like a lollypop only different. You see a lollypop is a stick with a lump of candy on one end.”

“Oh, yes, I know that,” answered Beckie.

“And a pollylop,” went on Neddie, “is a lump of candy, with a stick on one end.”

“Oh, I see what you mean!” exclaimed Beckie with a laugh. “One is upside down and the other——”

“The other is downside up,” finished her brother, as he turned a peppersault into a bank of snow, and came out on the other side with a feather sticking in his ear.

“Oh, look at that!” exclaimed Beckie. “Where did you get that feather, Neddie?”

“Why, I don’t know,” he answered, scratching his left paw with his right ear. “I guess it must have come out of the snowbank.”

“Feathers don’t grow in snowbanks, Neddie,” spoke Beckie.

“No more they do,” he answered, taking this one from his ear and looking at it. “I guess this feather must be off a chicken or a turkey, Beckie.”

“No, it isn’t large enough for a chicken’s or a turkey’s feather,” said Beckie. “It must be from a little bird. But what would a bird be doing in a snowbank?”

And just then the two little bear children heard a voice crying:

“Oh, dear! How cold I am! Oh, I am almost frozen!”

“Oh, the poor thing!” exclaimed Beckie. “That’s a poor little birdie in the snowbank, Neddie. You must get him out and we’ll warm him.”

“How?” asked the little bear boy. “How can you warm him?”

“Oh, I’ll find a way,” said Beckie.

“All right. Then I’ll dive into the snowbank again,” said Neddie. And into the snow he went, scattering it carefully about with his paws until, down near the bottom, on the ground, covered with the white flakes, and almost frozen, was a poor little birdie.

“Oh, the dear little thing!” cried Beckie, as Neddie brought out the birdie in his paws, holding it carefully so as not to squeeze it.

“Cheep! Cheep!” went the cold little birdie. That was all it could say.

“Quick, Neddie!” exclaimed Beckie. “You run home and get me some nice warm milk in a bottle. Aunt Piffy will heat it for you. Bring it back here to me, and some bread crumbs, too, I’ll feed the little birdie.”

“But why don’t you bring it home with you?” Neddie wanted to know.

“Because I don’t want to carry it through the cold air,” answered Beckie. “I’m going to warm the birdie in my fur while you are gone after the milk.”

So Neddie ran back home to the cave-house, and Beckie sat down on a stump that stuck up above the snow, and in her warm fur Beckie cuddled the cold birdie, holding her paws over it to keep off the frosty north wind.

“Cheep! cheep!” went the small birdie, and soon it was nice and warm and could flutter its wings a little.

“Do you feel better now?” asked Beckie.

“Oh, much better,” answered the fluttering creature. “Thank you so much for warming me.”

“But how did you happen to get in the snowbank?” asked Beckie.

“It was this way,” explained the bird. “Yesterday all my friends and brothers and sisters flew away down South, where it is warm. But I stayed to have a game of tag with Lulu Wibblewobble, the duck girl, and I was left behind. Then it got colder and colder, and I could not fly. I fell into the snow and there I stayed until you came to get me out. I can never thank you enough.”

“Pray do not think of that,” said Beckie most politely. “I am glad we could save you. I suppose it was your feather that stuck in Neddie’s ear when he took a peppersault dive through the snow.”

“Yes,” said the birdie, “it was a loose one from my tail. And it is a good thing it came off, otherwise you would never have known I was here.”

“Very true,” answered Beckie. Then she warmed the poor, cold little birdie some more in her fur, and wondered when Neddie would be back with the hot milk and the bread crumbs.

All of a sudden, as Beckie was sitting there on the stump, warming the birdie, out from behind an old apple tree came the biggest fox Beckie had ever seen. He was much larger than the little bear girl. In fact, he must have been the grandfather of all the foxes.

“Wuff! Wuff! Wuff!” barked the fox. “I can see where my Christmas dinner is coming from.”

“From where?” asked Beckie, as bravely as she could, though really she was much frightened.

“From you and that bird,” answered the bad fox. “I am going to carry you both off to my den, and what a Christmas dinner I will have!”

Well, he was just going to jump and grab Beckie, when the little birdie that wasn’t cold any more, but nice and warm, thanks to Beckie’s fur—that little bird just flew right into the face of that fox, and with its sharp beak the bird picked the fox on the end of his nose as hard as anything.

“Oh, wow!” cried the fox. “I guess I have made a mistake! I don’t want a Christmas dinner off you at all.”

“I guess you don’t!” chirped the birdie, pecking him on the nose again, and the fox ran away, taking his bushy tail with him, and Beckie and the birdie were safe. Then Beckie warmed the birdie some more in her fur, and pretty soon along came Neddie with the hot milk and bread crumbs, and the birdie ate as much as it wanted.

Then Beckie and Neddie took the birdie home with them to keep it in the warm cave until summer should come again; and everybody was happy except the fox with the sore nose, and it served him right. And in the next story, if the dinner plate doesn’t get hungry and bite a piece out of the salt dish, I’ll tell you about Neddie helping Santa Claus.

STORY XXX NEDDIE HELPS SANTA CLAUS

“Only three days more until Christmas! Aren’t you glad, Neddie?” asked Beckie Stubtail, the little girl bear, one morning as she jumped out of her bed in the clean straw of the cave-house where she lived, and ran to the door of her brother’s room. “Aren’t you just glad, Neddie?”

“Glad? Well, I guess I am!” answered Neddie, as he tickled himself with a clothespin to make himself laugh. “I don’t even want to go to school to-day, I’m so happy.”

“Oh, but I s’pose we do have to go,” spoke Beckie. “But maybe we’ll get out early.”

Just then from the kitchen came a call:

“Hurry, Neddie—Beckie—breakfast is ready! Come and get your griddle cakes with honey on!”

Then Beckie and Neddie, the little bear children, hurried downstairs. Soon they were eating their breakfast. Their papa, Mr. Stubtail, the old bear gentleman, had had his breakfast some time ago and gone to work. Uncle Wigwag, the gentleman bear, who was always playing tricks and cracking jokes, as a squirrel cracks nuts, was sitting in a corner, trying to think of something new to do to make Aunt Piffy, the fat lady bear, laugh.

Mr. Whitewash, the Polar bear gentleman, was out in the yard, looking for a fresh cake of ice to sit on while he read the morning paper.

Pretty soon Neddie and Beckie started for their classes. They had on their fur coats, for it was rather cold, you see. And in a little while, when the bear children were almost at school, and had met Tommie and Joie and Kat, the kitten children, in their red mittens and rubber boots, it began to snow.

“Oh, how nice!” cried Beckie, jumping about.

“It’s just fine!” exclaimed Neddie. “I always like it to snow around Christmas, for I’m going to get a new sled.”

“And I’m going to have a pair of skates,” said Tommie Kat. “At least I asked Santa Claus for them, and I hope he brings them, and also some ice, so I can use them.”

“Mr. Whitewash will lend you his cake of ice to skate on, if the pond doesn’t freeze,” said Neddie.

And then the school bell rang, and the animal children had to hurry on, so they would not be late.

Such fun as they had in school that day! It was so near Christmas that the professor-teacher was not very strict, and when the children missed their lessons he gave them another chance.

And the Professor let Beckie draw a picture of Santa Claus on the blackboard, with a red cap, and fur on the coat and a big pack on his back—I mean Santa Claus had all these things on, though of course the blackboard had also, after Beckie got through drawing.

Well, when school was out, Neddie and Beckie ran home with the rest of the animal children, but, all of a sudden, as the little bear boy came to the old hollow stump, where Bully, the frog, used to give jumping lessons in summer, Neddie happened to think that he had left his reading book in school.

“I’ll run back and get it,” he said. “You go on, Beckie, and I’ll soon catch up to you.”

But Neddie Stubtail didn’t come back as soon as he thought he would, for when he got to the school he found that a little mouse boy had taken the reading book down a rat hole to look at the pictures. And by the time Neddie got his book back it was quite late, and growing dark.

“But I’m not afraid,” said Neddie as he hurried on toward home, with the book under his paw. On and on he went, through the wood. It became darker and darker. Neddie began to whistle, so he could not hear any rustling in the bushes. For when the bushes rustled he imagined it might be the skillery-scalery alligator, or maybe a bad wolf after him.

But nothing like that took place, and soon Neddie was almost home. Then all of a sudden something did happen. Just as he was passing under a big oak tree, with the brown leaves on it shaking in the wind, the little bear boy heard a buzzing sound, and then a crash and a bang, and a rattle, and some one cried:

“Oh, dear! Now I have gone and done it! Oh, my, yes! and some reindeer-lollypops besides! Oh, what am I going to do now? And not half my work done!”

Neddie crouched down under the bushes. He knew well enough that something had happened up in the oak tree. What it was he could not tell.

“But if it’s a giant, or a bad elephant or a flying eagle trying to get me, they shan’t!” exclaimed Neddie.

Then he heard the voice crying again:

“Help! Help! Is there anybody around to help me? I’m stuck in the tree!”

“Ha!” exclaimed Neddie to himself. “He’s only saying that to fool me. I believe that’s the skillery-scalery alligator sailing around in a balloon, looking for me. But he shan’t find me. I’ll hide here until he goes away.”

So Neddie got farther under the bush, and then the voice cried again:

“Help! Help! Please help me!”

Then some bells jingled, and Neddie heard a song that went something like this:

“Won’t you please come to help me. I am caught fast in a tree. Christmas time will soon be here, But I’ll sure be late this year, Unless some one comes quickly, And gets me loose from out this tree.”

Hearing that nice song Neddie wasn’t afraid any more. He opened his ears as wide as he could and listened. He opened his eyes as wide as he could and looked up. Then he saw a strange sight.

Caught fast in the tree was an airship—you know what they are—a sort of flying balloon, like a toy circus one, only larger. And in the airship was a nice old gentleman, with a red coat and long white whiskers; and beside him in the airship was a big bag just filled to the top with sleds and dolls and rocking horses and cradles, and steam engines and toy motor boats, and skates and jumping-jacks, and, oh! I couldn’t begin to tell you what was in it. Neddie knew right away who was in trouble.

“You’re Santa Claus, aren’t you?” he asked, as he came out from under the bush.

“That’s who I am,” answered the old gentleman. “I was flying down here from the North Pole in my airship, when I got caught in the tree. I’m stuck fast and I can’t get out, and I don’t know what to do. Can you find some one to help me?”

“I will help you myself,” said Neddie bravely and kindly. Then, laying down his school books, he climbed the tree sticking in the bark his sharp claws as he had learned to do from George, the tame trained bear, who went around with the Professor.

Soon Neddie was at the top of the tree. Then he broke off the branches that held fast Santa’s airship, and dear old St. Nicholas could travel on again, with his bag of good things for Christmas.

Off through the air sailed Santa Claus, and as Neddie climbed down the tree, after having helped the nice old gentleman, a voice called.

“I’ll see you soon again, Neddie. But don’t tell anybody you saw me for it’s a secret.”

“I won’t,” said Neddie, and he didn’t. Then the little bear boy hurried on home, and he had honey cakes for supper, and he never said a word about Santa Claus. And on the next page, if the umbrella doesn’t climb up the hat tree and pick off all the breakfast oranges, I’ll tell you about Neddie and Beckie in the chimney.

STORY XXXI NEDDIE AND BECKIE IN THE CHIMNEY

“Neddie, what makes you act so queerly?” asked Beckie Stubtail, the little bear, one morning when she and her brother were on their way to school.

“Queer! Do I act queer?” asked Neddie, as he turned around to see if any snowballs were growing on the end of his tail. None were, I’m glad to say.

“Queer! I really think you do act strange,” said Beckie, as politely as she could, while eating a bun Aunt Piffy had given her.

“What do I do that’s queer?” asked Neddie, curious-like.

“Why, you go around looking up in the air all the while, and listening, and then looking up again. I should think you would get a stiff neck,” said Beckie. “Why do you do it, Neddie?”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” said Neddie, sort of confused like. “I—er—I guess I’m looking up to see if it’s going to snow any more for Christmas.”

“Neddie Stubtail!” exclaimed Beckie, shaking her paw at him. “That isn’t it at all! You’re looking for something in the air and I know it. And, besides, you talked in your sleep last night!”

“Did I?” asked Neddie, sort of anxious-like. “What did I say, Beckie?”

“Well, I couldn’t understand it all. But it was something about a tree, and getting caught in it, and then you hollered out: ‘I won’t tell, Sandy!’ That’s what you talked.”

“Did I say Sandy?” asked Neddie.

“Well, it sounded like that,” answered Beckie. “But I won’t be sure.” Then she looked at her brother. Neddie was all sort of red back of his ears, and his little stubby tail was going wiggle-waggle-wog. Then Beckie suspected something.

“Neddie Stubtail!” she cried. “I believe you know something about Santa Claus! That’s it! It was Santa—not Sandy. Oh! Neddie, do you—really? Tell me, please! I won’t tell. Come on, do, it’s so near Christmas!”

Beckie took hold of Neddie’s paw and kissed him on the nose.

“Aw, quit!” he cried. “I’m not a girl!”

“I know, Neddie, dear,” said Beckie softly. “But I love you!”

“Huh! Yes! I guess you want me to tell you the secret, don’t you?” he asked, and really Neddie did not speak as politely as he might have done. But he did not mean to be unkind.

“Oh, a secret!” cried Beckie, clapping her paws. “Do tell me, Neddie, dear.”

“I promised not to,” said the little boy bear, looking at his toes.

“Oh, if you will,” said Beckie, “I’ve got a honey cake, and I’ll give it to you. Do tell me!”

“Well,” said Neddie, slowly, as he ate the cake his sister gave him, “It happened last night. I promised not to tell, but then you’re my sister and it’s almost Christmas, anyhow. I guess he won’t care.”

And then, because he loved his little sister bear, Neddie told all about having helped Santa Claus, who got caught in the tree top with his airship, as I told you in the story before this one.

“Oh, how perfectly lovely!” cried Beckie, clapping her paws. “Neddie, if I had another honey cake I’d give it to you. Just to think! You really saw Santa Claus!”

“But it’s a secret!” said Neddie, quickly.

“Of course—I know,” said Beckie, sticking up her nose just the little tiniest bit. “I won’t tell a single soul.”

And then they were at school. They studied their lessons and then, as it was recess, all the animal children went out in the yard to play. And, of course, Beckie had to go and tell that she had a secret.

And, of course, all the girls wanted to know what the secret was. And, of course, Beckie said she couldn’t tell, but the girls, like Alice and Lulu Wibblewobble, the ducks, and Kittie Kat, and Brighteyes, the guinea pig girl, all begged and teased, and well——

“Now promise, cross your heart and twist your paws you’ll never, never tell if I tell you,” asked Beckie.

“Oh, we promise,” said all the animal girls.

Well, you can easily guess what happened. Beckie told how her brother Neddie had helped Santa Claus out of the tree in his airship. And, of course, all the girls promised not to even whisper it. And then, somehow, all the boys had heard of what happened to Neddie. And, in a short time, everybody in the school knew all about the little boy bear having seen Santa Claus.

“Well, it’s very queer!” exclaimed Beckie when Neddie spoke to her about it. “I only just told a few girls—only a very few, and they all promised not to tell!”

“Huh!” exclaimed Neddie. And then, as he saw that his little sister felt badly, he added: “Never mind, Beckie. You didn’t mean to, and I guess Santa Claus won’t care, anyhow.”

And Neddie let Beckie kiss him again, which was very nice of him, I think.

Then, when recess was almost over, Jackie Bow Bow, the puppy dog boy, said:

“Pooh! I don’t believe Santa Claus comes down the chimney the way they say he does.”

“You don’t believe that?” cried Neddie Stubtail, surprised-like.

“No, I don’t,” said Jackie. “Maybe he has an airship, for you saw that, but nobody ever saw him come down the chimney.”

“The idea!” cried Beckie. “What a funny boy! Of course he comes down the chimney.”

“How can he with a pack on his back? Answer me that!” cried Jackie. Neddie and Beckie looked at one another. They both thought of the same thing. Then Neddie said:

“Of course Santa Claus comes down the chimney. What if he is big? I’m bigger than Sammy Littletail, the rabbit, and I can go down a chimney.”

“So can I!” cried Beckie.

“And we’ll do it, too!” added Neddie. “We have a few minutes of recess yet. Beckie and I will go down the school chimney to show them all that Santa Claus can do the same thing.”

Then, while all the other animal children looked on in wonder, Beckie and Neddie scrambled up on the roof of the schoolhouse. They could easily do this as there was a tree growing near it. Then Neddie got in the chimney first. It was a large, wide one.

“You’ll get all black soot,” said Beckie.

“Never mind, it will all wash off,” spoke Neddie. “Come on in, Beckie. There’s lots of room.”

So Beckie got in the chimney, too. Just then the school bell rang. Recess was over. All the animal children had to run in.

“Oh, you’ll get a bad mark!” they cried to Neddie and Beckie. “You’ll be late!”

“Hurry up! Slide down the chimney and go to school that way!” cried Beckie to Neddie.

“I can’t! I’m stuck fast!” he said.

“I’ll give you a push!” she cried. And she did. She pushed so hard that both she and Neddie fell right on down through the hole in the chimney, into the fireplace in the school room. But, luckily, there was no fire on the hearth, so they were not burned. Which shows you that Santa Claus can come down a chimney, and which also shows you that you should not have a fire in the grate on Christmas eve.

Well, of course, Neddie and Beckie coming down the chimney made quite some excitement in the school, but all the animal children laughed, and the professor-teacher laughed, too, and then, as it was so near Christmas, he said there would be no more lessons that day. So Neddie and Beckie, having proved that Santa Claus could come down a chimney, went home to wash off the soot.

What’s that? How does Santa Claus get the black soot off him when he comes down a chimney? Why, he always has a whiskbroom with him, you know, and every time he comes down a chimney he brushes himself off. See?

And now we have come to the end of this book, for you can easily tell, by looking, that there isn’t room for another story in it.

I’ll just say, though, that Neddie and Beckie had the finest Christmas that ever you can imagine. And such presents as they received! And the candy and nuts and oranges and honey cakes—Oh, my! It makes me hungry just to write about it.

And the two little bear children, and their papa and mamma, and Aunt Piffy, the fat bear, and Uncle Wigwag, and Mr. Whitewash lived happily for ever after—for many years after. And every time he got a chance Uncle Wigwag would play a joke. And Mr. Whitewash would always sit on a cake of ice when he could find one.

But if I can’t get any more stories in this book, I can put them in another. And I will. That book will be called “Bully and Bawly No-Tail,” and they will be stories about the two little frog boys, who lived in a pond, and could swim as good as a gold fish. They had no tails, except when they were baby tadpoles, but those tails soon fell off. So their names were “No-Tail” you see, just as Buddy and Brighteyes, the guinea pigs, had no tail.

So I’ll say good-bye now, for a little while, as I have to write the new book for you.

THE END

THE FAMOUS BED TIME SERIES

Five groups of books, intended for reading aloud to the little folks each night. Each volume contains 8 colored illustrations, 31 stories, one for each day of the month. Handsomely bound in cloth. Size 6½x8¼.

=Price 60 cents per volume, postpaid=

* * * * *

HOWARD R. GARIS’ Bed Time Animal Stories

No. 1 SAMMIE AND SUSIE LITTLETAIL

No. 2 JOHNNY AND BILLY BUSHYTAIL

No. 3 LULU, ALICE & JIMMIE WIBBLEWOBBLE

No. 5 JACKIE AND PEETIE BOW-WOW

No. 7 BUDDY AND BRIGHTEYES PIGG

No. 9 JOIE, TOMMIE AND KITTIE KAT

No. 10 CHARLIE AND ARABELLA CHICK

No. 14 NEDDIE AND BECKIE STUBTAIL

No. 16 BULLY AND BAWLY NO-TAIL

No. 20 NANNIE AND BILLIE WAGTAIL

No. 28 JOLLIE AND JILLIE LONGTAIL

Uncle Wiggily Bed Time Stories

No. 4 UNCLE WIGGILY’S ADVENTURES

No. 6 UNCLE WIGGILY’S TRAVELS

No. 8 UNCLE WIGGILY’S FORTUNE

No. 11 UNCLE WIGGILY’S AUTOMOBILE

No. 19 UNCLE WIGGILY AT THE SEASHORE

No. 21 UNCLE WIGGILY’S AIRSHIP

No. 27 UNCLE WIGGILY IN THE COUNTRY

* * * * *

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the publishers

=A. L. BURT CO., 114–120 East 23d St., New York=

Copyright, 1913, by HOWARD R. GARIS Copyright, 1914, by R. F. FENNO & COMPANY Neddie and Becky Stubtail

The Boy Allies With the Battleships

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

By ENSIGN ROBERT L. DRAKE

Price, 40 Cents per Volume, Postpaid

Frank Chadwick and Jack Templeton, young American lads, meet each other in an unusual way soon after the declaration of war. Circumstances place them on board the British cruiser “The Sylph” and from there on, they share adventures with the sailors of the Allies. Ensign Robert L. Drake, the author, is an experienced naval officer, and he describes admirably the many exciting adventures of the two boys.

THE BOY ALLIES UNDER THE SEA; or, The Vanishing Submarine.

THE BOY ALLIES IN THE BALTIC; or, Through Fields of Ice to Aid the Czar.

THE BOY ALLIES ON THE NORTH SEA PATROL; or, Striking the First Blow at the German Fleet.

THE BOY ALLIES UNDER TWO FLAGS; or, Sweeping the Enemy from the Seas.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON; or, The Naval Raiders of the Great War.

THE BOY ALLIES WITH THE TERROR OF THE SEAS; or, The Last Shot of Submarine D–16.

The Boy Allies With the Army

(Registered in the United States Patent Office)

By CLAIR W. HAYES

Price, 40 Cents per Volume, Postpaid