now to-night i’m going to tell you a story about something sad that happened to hiram stubtail, the papa bear. and i will not make it any sadder than i can help. but still i have to tell things exactly as they happened, or it would not be fair, and we must always try to be fair and honest in this world, no matter what happens. even when we’re sad we must try.
but i will say this, though there is a sad part to the story, there is also a glad part. and the glad part i’ll put in last, so that when you go to bed you will dream about that. i always like to have pleasant dreams; don’t you?
once i dreamed i found a lot of money and to make sure i’d have it when i awakened i put it under my pillow. but when i woke up the money was all gone. dream money always does that, you know. it disappears.
and once i dreamed i found a lollypop, and when i put my hand under my pillow there it was—all 136sticky! my little girl had put it there to keep safe for the night. so that part of my dream came true.
but i started to tell you about papa stubtail’s trouble, and i guess you don’t want to hear about my troubles.
anyhow, one saturday, when there was no school, beckie and neddie stubtail, the two little bear children, started off to the woods to see if they could have any fun. it was quite cold, and it seemed as if it were going to snow, but they did not mind that, for they had on their warm fur coats.
“i know what let’s do!” exclaimed beckie. “let’s go over and call on uncle wiggily. you know since he found his fortune he has lots of money, and he might give us some to get a popcorn ball with.”
“all right, i’ll go with you,” agreed neddie. so they went to the house of the old gentleman rabbit. they found him at home, and he was glad to see them. and, surely enough, he gave each of the bear children a penny to buy a popcorn ball. bears are very fond of those sweet things, you know.
well, while neddie and beckie were enjoying the popcorn balls, their papa had started to come home from where he worked in the bed factory, 137making nice fuzzy mattresses, fluffing them up with his sharp claws, for little bears to sleep on.
“i will go home a little early to-day,” said mr. stubtail, to himself, “and take neddie and beckie to a football game. they will enjoy that.”
well, as he was walking along, thinking how funny it was for mr. whitewash, the polar bear gentleman, to put up a stovepipe and get all black—as mr. stubtail was thinking of this, i say—all of a sudden he heard some one crying:
“help! help! oh, will no one help me?”
“ha! who can that be?” exclaimed mr. stubtail, looking all around, and thinking maybe it might be one of his own children, little neddie or beckie, in trouble.
but he could see no one, though the voice still cried out:
“help! oh, please help me!”
“i would help you if i could see you,” said mr. stubtail, looking up and down and sideways and even around the corner. still he could see no one, and then the voice said:
“here i am, right down by this board fence!”
then mr. stubtail looked more closely, and he saw, crouched on the ground, at the bottom of a board fence, jollie longtail, the little boy mousie.
“oh, there you are!” exclaimed mr. stubtail. 138“but why are you crying, jollie, and why don’t you run away?”
“i can’t run away,” answered the mousie boy, “because my long tail is fast through a knot hole in the fence, and that is the reason i am crying.”
“your tail fast through a knot hole in the fence?” exclaimed mr. stubtail. “why, how did that happen?”
“well, you see,” explained jollie. “i was creeping along here, looking for a piece of cheese, when my tail slipped through the hole. and, before i knew it, another boy mousie named snippy-snoopy, who doesn’t like me, came along and tied a knot in my tail so i couldn’t pull it back through the hole again. and here i am held fast. will you please untie the knot in my tail? i can’t reach it.”
“oh course i will!” exclaimed the bear gentleman, and very gently, so as not to hurt jollie, he untied the knot in the mousie boy’s tail, so jollie could run along home.
“oh, thank you so much!” he called to mr. stubtail, most politely. “and if ever i can do you a favor i will!”
then mr. stubtail hurried on home, thinking how nice it would be to take beckie and neddie to the football game. and i guess mr. stubtail was in such a hurry that he did not notice where 139he was going for, all of a sudden, he stepped into a steel trap.
“snap!” it went shut, catching him on the paw. and, oh! how it did hurt.
“my goodness me! oh, dear! this is terrible!” cried mr. stubtail. “i am caught!”
he tried to pull his paw out but the more he pulled the worse it hurt, and he had to stop. then he tried to lift up the trap in his other paw, thinking maybe he could carry it to the blacksmith shop and have it filed off. but the trap was fast to a tree by a big chain and mr. stubtail could not get it loose. there he was caught fast.
this is the sad part of the story. i’ll make it just as short as i can and get to the glad part.
well, poor mr. stubtail stood there in the trap not knowing what to do. he thought he would never see his home again, or his wife, or neddie, or beckie, nor yet mr. whitewash and aunt piffy and uncle wigwag.
“oh, dear!” sighed mr. stubtail. “what ever shall i do? soon the hunter who put this trap here will come along and get me. then it will be all up with papa stubtail.”
but just then he heard a little rustling in the dried leaves, and a tiny voice asked:
“can i help you, mr. stubtail?”
the bear gentleman looked down and saw 140jollie longtail, the mousie boy, whose tail he had untied a little while ago.
“oh, jollie, it’s you, is it?” asked mr. stubtail. “no, i’m afraid you can’t help me. you see, this trap and chain are made of iron, and though you have very sharp little teeth to gnaw through wood, you can’t gnaw iron.”
“no,” said jollie, “i can’t do that, but maybe i could go and get help for you.”
“so you can!” cried mr. stubtail, trying not to let the little mousie boy see how much pain he was in. “the very thing, jollie. run home and get mr. whitewash and uncle wigwag, and any one else you can, to come and get me out of this trap before the hunter comes.”
away ran the mousie boy as fast as he could go. but it was a long way to the cave-house—not very far for a bear gentleman, perhaps, who can take long steps, but quite a distance for a little mouse chap.
“but i’ll get there in time!” cried jollie. “i must save mr. stubtail, for he saved me. i’ll get there!”
faster and faster he ran on. once a bad fox tried to grab jollie, but the mousie hid under a log until the fox had passed on. again a big horned owl bird, with staring eyes, swooped down on him but jollie dodged under a stone and 141the bird stubbed its beak, and didn’t get the mouse.
then jollie reached the cave-house and told what had happened to mr. stubtail.
mrs. stubtail was so excited that she nearly fainted and fell into a tub of water when she heard the news.
aunt piffy lost her breath completely this time, and it was several seconds before jollie could run after it for her and bring it back.
“what!” cried neddie, for he and beckie had come home. “my papa in a trap!”
“yes, and he needs help quickly!” cried jollie.
“then i’ll go get my uncle and mr. whitewash!” said neddie. off he rushed to find uncle wigwag and the polar bear gentleman. they also got uncle wiggily, and gup, the kind, strong horse, and as many other animal gentlemen as they could, and back they hurried to where mr. stubtail was in the trap.
together, with the help of a kind circus elephant, they pulled the trap open and the bear gentleman was free. then they all hurried away before the hunter man, with his gun and dogs, could get them. mr. stubtail limped a little and was lame for some time, but that is better than staying forever in a trap.
when he got home his wife was out of the tub 142of water, and she and aunt piffy made some nice salve for mr. stubtail’s sore foot. then they had a lovely supper with honey ice cream, and everybody was happy and they couldn’t do enough for jollie longtail. and this is the glad part of the story.
so this shows you that you should always untie a knot in a mousie’s tail if you can, for you never can tell when a mousie might help you.
and no more to-night, if you please, but very soon, if the milkman’s horse doesn’t come up on our front stoop and take our doormat to wipe his feet on, i’ll tell you about mamma stubtail’s honey cakes.
