Part 7

“Oh, mamma!” cried little Neddie Stubtail, the bear cub, as he got ready to go to school one morning. “What is it that smells so good in your kitchen?”

“What smells so good?” spoke Mrs. Stubtail, the mamma bear. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the tea kettle boiling.”

“Oh, mamma, you’re joking just as Uncle Wigwag often does,” said Beckie, the little bear girl. “I, too, smell something good. Are you making candy?”

“Now, you children just run along to school and say your lessons,” said Mrs. Stubtail, as she looked to see if there was any stove blacking on her apron. But there was none, I’m glad to say.

“Little bears should be seen and not heard,” said Aunt Piffy, the fat old lady bear, as she came up from down cellar, where she had been looking to see if any dust had gotten in the eyes of the potatoes.

“Oh, but we smell something good!” cried Neddie. “Do tell us what it is, mamma.”

Then he and his sister Beckie sniffed and snuffed real hard, to try and find out what it was that smelled so good. It was like molasses candy and popcorn and lollypops and ice cream cones, all rolled into one. But Neddie and Beckie could not tell exactly what it was.

Anyhow, the school bell rang just then, and they had to run on to their lessons, so they didn’t have time to find out what it was their mamma was cooking in the kitchen that smelled so nice.

But at noontime, when they came home for dinner, they discovered the secret. Neddie ate up his dessert and then he blinked both his eyes at his sister Beckie. That meant, in bear language:

“Come on outside. I want to talk to you.”

Then Beckie wiggled both her ears and this meant: “All right. I’ll be out in a minute.”

And when Beckie met Neddie outside the house and they were on their way to school, Beckie asked:

“What is it, Neddie? What smelled so good?”

“It’s honey cakes,” said he.

“Honey cakes?” exclaimed Beckie. “Why, we don’t have them until Christmas.”

“I know,” said Neddie, “but it’s almost Christmas now. Mamma is making a lot of honey cakes. That’s what smelled so good this morning. They’ll be done this afternoon and she’ll put them out on the back steps to cool, as she always does.”

“Well, is that all?” asked Beckie, anxious-like.

“No, not quite,” said Neddie. “When we come home from school you and I will go softly up on the back stoop and we’ll get some of the honey cakes. They’ll be cool by then.”

“Oh, but that’s not right!” cried Beckie, “We can’t eat mamma’s honey cakes without asking her.”

“I didn’t say anything about eating them,” spoke Neddie. “I just said we’d take a few cakes in our paws. Then we’ll go to mamma and say we saw the cakes out on the back stoop, and we’ll ask her if we can eat them. Mind you, we won’t take so much as a smitch of one before we ask her!

“But when she sees we have the cakes of course she’ll let us take a nibble. Even Aunt Piffy would do that. Otherwise we’d never get a honey cake until Christmas. Will you do it?” asked Neddie.

“Oh, well; yes, I guess so,” said Beckie. “But I’m afraid it isn’t exactly right.”

“Oh, yes, it is,” said Neddie. “Now, come on to school, and when we come home this afternoon we’ll get some honey cakes.”

But I’m afraid, after all, that what Neddie was going to do was not exactly right. However, let us see what happens, as the telephone girl says.

Neddie and Beckie went on to school, but they did not do very well in their lessons, for they were thinking so much about honey cakes. And if they had known that Uncle Wigwag, the old bear gentleman, who was always playing tricks, had heard them talking about what they were going to do, maybe they would not have felt so happy.

For Uncle Wigwag, hiding behind a stump, had heard just what Neddie and Beckie had planned to do to get some honey cakes. And the old joking gentleman bear said to himself:

“Now, I’ll play a joke on those children. It isn’t right for them to do that, and I’ll teach them a lesson.”

So he went out on the back steps, where the pans of honey cakes were cooling. Honey cakes, you know, are made from honey and sugar and other sweet things, and are very good. Little bear children love them more than anything else.

“Let me see now. What trick shall I play?” said Uncle Wigwag to himself. “Oh, I know. I’ll put a lot of glue on the back steps, and make them all sticky like fly paper. Then, when Neddie and Beckie come up to get the honey cakes they’ll step in the glue, and they’ll be held fast, and they’ll make such a fuss that their mamma and Aunt Piffy will hear them. They’ll come out, and I guess those bear cubs will never take any more honey cakes without asking.”

So Uncle Wigwag got a lot of sticky glue from the doll factory where they glue dolls’ wigs on, and he spread the sticky stuff all over the back steps, where, on the top rail, Mrs. Stubtail had set the honey cakes to cool.

Oh, how delicious they smelled! Uncle Wigwag could not help taking one, but of course that was all right, as he paid his board to Mrs. Stubtail.

Then Uncle Wigwag spread out the sticky glue, taking care not to step in it himself, and then he went and hid behind a stump to see what would happen when Neddie and Beckie came softly along to get the honey cakes.

But something else happened. I’ll tell you all about it if you’ll listen.

Neddie and Beckie hurried out of school that afternoon. They had managed to get through their lessons, and were very anxious to eat some of the honey cakes—that is, if their mamma would let them.

“I hope they’re out on the stoop when we get there,” said Beckie.

“Oh, you honey cakes!” exclaimed Neddie, jolly-like. “Of course they’ll be there.”

And just then, as it happened, there was a bad old wolf behind the fence. And he heard what the bear cub children were saying.

“Honey cakes, eh?” exclaimed the wolf. “I guess I’ll go get some for myself.”

So he ran through the woods, a shorter way than Neddie and Beckie went, and the old wolf got there first, just as the one did in the Little Red Riding Hood story.

“Ah! ha!” exclaimed the wolf, as he smelled the honey cakes. “Now for a good meal! I’m glad I heard Neddie and Beckie talking about this. Oh, you honey cakes!”

The old wolf went softly to the stoop. He looked all around, but he saw no one. Mrs. Stubtail was washing the dishes and Aunt Piffy had gone to lie down and take a nap. Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear, was over visiting Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, and Uncle Wigwag, as we know, was hiding behind the stump.

The wolf saw no one, and up the back steps he went to get the honey cakes that were set out there to cool. But something happened.

All of a sudden the wolf stepped in the glue and stuck fast. All four 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.