VI.

LITTLE BEAR AND THE WATER BARREL

There was no well and there was no cistern in the Three Bears' house. They went to the river for water to drink, but just outside the back door there was a rain water barrel. Every Saturday, if there was no water in the rain-water barrel, the Three Bears used to carry water to bathe in. They took their baths one at a time in a big washtub.
One Saturday night, when Father Bear, Mother Bear and Baby Bear had all three taken their baths and were tucked away snug and comfortable in their beds, it began to rain.
“It is raining! Now the water barrel will be filled!" said Father Bear, in a big voice.
“And the ducks will be so happy!” murmured the little Baby Bear, in a sleepy voice.
It rained all that night and all day Sunday. There was no going for a walk, so Father Bear told Baby Bear stories.
Monday morning the sun shone bright and warm. Mother Bear said it was a beautiful day for washing clothes.

“But, Baby Bear,” said she, “whatever you do, don't go near the rain-water barrel, because you might fall in.”
Baby Bear was not always good. While his mother was clearing the breakfast table, Little Bear thought he would look at the outside of the rain-water barrel. Next he lifted one paw as high as he could, and reached the top of the barrel. He could not see in, so he turned the clothes basket upside down, which is the same thing as bottom side up, and then he climbed on top of it. He
could look into the water barrel.
For a few minutes Baby Bear had a good time play in in the water. Then he leaned over to see if he could see the bottom of the barrel, when, splashity, splash! He fell in head first!
Mother Bear heard the splashity, splash! and ran out just in time to see Baby Bear's feet going down, down, in the water. Father Bear ran by leaps to the rain-water barrel.
“Poor little Baby Bear! Poor little Baby Bear!” wailed Mother Bear when Father Bear pulled the little fellow out, all dripping wet!
The first thing Father Bear did was to pound Baby Bear on his back, to get the water out of his lungs.
When Baby Bear had been scrubbed and rubbed dry, Mother Bear wrapped him in a blanket and put him in Father Bear's big chair. Then she made him some ginger tea, and compelled him to drink it while it was hot, hot!
“I'll never, never climb up and look in the water barrel again!” promised Baby Bear, when he sat wrapped in the blanket, watching his little shirt and trousers flapping on the line.
And he never did.

VII.

WHEN LITTLE BEAR HAD HIS OWN WAY

One fine morning the Three Bears-Father Bear. Mother Bear, and Little Bear-went for a long walk, early, before little boys and girls were out of bed.
“Let's go over to the park,” said Father Bear, reaching for his cane.
Baby Bear danced for joy. He was always glad to visit the park.
That day the Three Bears were in such haste they didn't say good morning to the toads or the butterflies or the birds. Baby Bear didn't even look at the bluebells and buttercups by the roadside. He had no time to pick flowers when he was on his way to the park.
When they came to the park the three had a merry time until Little Bear discovered the children's hill. He had never seen it before. After that, he didn't care to swing in the swings, or teeter, or dance around the May-pole. He wished to do what the children did all day long in that lovely park. He wished to climb to the top of the hill and run down the hard hard path.
“If you should try to run down that hill by yourself you would fall,” said Father Bear.
“Yes, you would surely fall,” said Mother Bear.
So the Three Bears climbed the wee, wee hill together, Little Bear in the middle, Father Bear on one side, and Mother Bear on the other.
“Now, down we go!” began Father Bear, when the three stood at the top of the tiny hill, looking down the hard, hard path where children played all the long summer days.
“Down we go!” said Mother Bear, keeping tight, tight hold of Baby Bear's little paw.
“One, two, three, go!” counted Father Bear, keeping tight hold of Baby Bear's other paw.  Downhill ran the Three Bears -plunk, plunk, plunk! plunkety, plunkety, plunkety, plunk! At first, Little Bear kept his feet on the path and made them run fast, fast; but before he reached the bottom of the hill his feet didn't touch the path, and he seemed to be flying, with Mother Bear on one side and Father Bear on the other.
Over and over again, Mother Bear and Father Bear climbed the little hill to run down again with Baby Bear, until they were both tired and out of breath. Father and Mother Bear were too big and heavy to enjoy what Little Bear thought was such fun. Besides, Mother Bear wished to see the peacocks, and Father Bear wanted a drink of water.

“Let me run down the hill alone!” begged Baby Bear. “The children do it all day long!”
“Not little children!” said Mother Bear. “Their fathers and mothers always run down the hill with them. You are too small to run down the hill alone!”
“But I want to run down the hill alone!" howled Baby Bear, in a tantrum.
“You shall have your own way!” thundered Father Bear. “You shall run down the hill alone!”
“Oh, but he will get hurt!” put in Mother Bear.

“It will do him good!” said Father Bear. “It will teach him that fathers and mothers know best. Now we will go and see the peacocks.”

Away tramped Father Bear and Mother Bear, leaving Little Bear climbing the hill alone. Up and up climbed Little Bear. The hill seemed longer to him than before.  At the top he waited a minute, then waved his arms and counted, “One, two, three-here-I-go!”
Little Bear started down the hill all right. His fee came plunk, plunk, plunk! on the hard path, exactly as if his father were on one side and his mother on the other. But the next thing Little Bear knew, his fee were going too fast! Plunk, plunk, plunk! plunkety plunkety, plunkety, plunk! Little Bear wished his father were on one side and his mother on the other He was afraid he was going to fall! It seemed as if the path tried to hit him in the face! And the next that Little Bear knew, his feet got away and landed hin bump, bump! ker-smash! on the hard, hard path, and over he rolled in the dust and dirt until he reached th bottom of the hill!
Mother Bear had been looking over her shoulder, and that is how it happened that she reached the bottom of the hill almost as quickly as did Baby Bear.
“Poor little lamb!” she said, and she took him up and tried to comfort him.
“Oh, my nose, my nose, my nose!” wailed Baby Bear, and, sure enough, Little Bear's pretty little nose was black and blue in three places, and his head was covered with bumps. Mother Bear kissed every one of those bumps.
Baby Bear cried so loud, loud, loud, Father Bear was afraid the keeper of the park might waken and come running. “There, there!” comforted Father Bear, “didn't I tell you fathers and mothers knew best?”

Just then, a voice from across the duck pond called, 'Papa! Papa! Papa! Come quick! Here are three bears! And, oh, oh, one of them is a little bear!”
When Father Bear looked around, there was Goldilocks pointing toward Little Bear, and shouting, louder than ever, “Oh, come and catch the little bear! I want him for a pet!”
Quick as a wink, Father Bear snatched up Little Bear in his arms, and ran out of that park, with Mother Bear close at his heels. The two big bears didn't stop running until they were in the woods.
There they stopped to take breath and to look behind them, and then, when they saw that no one was following them, and that they were quite safe, Father Bear stood Little Bear up in front of him and brushed the sand and dirt off of Little Bear's fur coat, and then he took Little Bear down to the brook and washed his face. After that, Mother Bear put some leaves on his poor, hurt nose; and he was a good Little Bear the rest of that day.
And now, when Little Bear sometimes remembers that day in the park, he takes his little brown paw an gently rubs his head where the bumps were, and say “Fathers and mothers always know what is best for their chi1dren”

VIII.

LITTLE BEAR'S VISIT TO THE FOXES

Late one afternoon when the sun was low in the forest and birds and bees and good little bears were thinking of bedtime, a family of seven sharp-nosed little Foxes went out to play. Baby Bear heard their shrill, happy barks, and wished to go too. He knew that the Fox family lived in a burrow not far away from the Three Bears' house, but he had never seen the children. Their mother kept them at home daytimes.
Many and many a time when Baby Bear was cuddled in his bed he had heard the Foxes barking, now near the house, now faraway; but his mother never, never allowed him to get up and go to see them.

“I don't know what Mother Fox is thinking of to let those children sit up so late!” middle-sized Mother Bear used to say.
She was stirring the porridge for supper when Baby Bear heard the little Foxes. Instead of asking his mother if he might go, Baby Bear opened the gate softly and ran as fast as he could to the playground. There he saw seven little Foxes playing leapfrog; at least the game seemed to be leapfrog.
Mother Fox was watching them. When she saw Baby Bear, she said, kindly enough, “You better run home, Baby Bear!”
But Baby Bear didn't go home. When the seven little Foxes saw him they laughed slyly, for he was so slow and so clumsy, while they were light-footed and nimble.
“Let's play tag, now,” suggested one little Fox, with bright eyes full of mischief. “Baby Bear, you are It! You must catch us if you can!”
Mother Fox laughed until she almost cried, while watching those children play. Baby Bear couldn't catch one of her lively youngsters, no matter how hard he tried.
Suddenly Mother Fox heard a sound that put an end to the game; it was Father Fox warning her of danger.
“Run for home, children,” said she, “run for home! Baby Bear, you must go with us! Run, run! Faster, faster, faster!”
Baby Bear stumbled along as best he could with the Fox children, and crowded after them into the burrow. Scarcely were they in the house when close behind them rushed Father Fox. He was all out of breath and dreadfully tired.
“What is the matter?” asked Baby Bear, who was much frightened.
“Nothing unusual,” answered brave Father Fox when he could speak; “the farmer was after me, that is all. Don't ask any more questions!”
Baby Bear didn't ask any more questions, but he began to cry.
“Are you homesick already?” asked Mother Fox, not unkindly. “Poor child! I suppose you are hungry, but we have nothing for supper.”
“Nothing for supper! Nothing for supper!” wailed the baby Foxes.
“There, there,” comforted Father Fox, “don't cry, children, don't cry! Daddy'll go hunting again. Come, Baby Bear, I shall take you to your mother!”

Baby Bear was glad to get home, and middle-sized Mother Bear was glad to see him; but she put the little fellow to bed that night before sunset.
“Did you thank Father Fox for bringing that naughty child home safely?” asked big, big Father Bear when he sat down to think, after supper.
“Yes, indeed!” answered middle-sized Mother Bear. “Father Fox means well, he certainly means well, although you can't blame the farmer for calling him bad names! If Foxes would only eat blackberries and honey, like other folks, we might allow Baby Bear to play with the little Fox children, but as it is, Baby Bear must learn to stay at home when they are out!”
“I'll never go to play with the little Foxes again unless you go, too,” promised Baby Bear, calling from his bed. “I like my home better, and my father and my mother and my porridge for supper!”

IX

LITTLE BEAR'S TOAD

One morning, when Little Bear was playing in the forest near his home, he heard a toad calling for help.
“Where are you, Mr. Toad?” asked Little Bear.
“I have fallen into a deep hole, and I can't get out! Is that you, Little Bear?”
“Yes, and I will get you out, Mr. Toad.”
“Please do, Little Bear, and be quick, because I can't live much longer in this dry, sandy place. There isn't a bit of moisture here. If you'll help me out of this trouble, I'll be your pet, and work for your father.'
Little Bear was too polite to say that he did not care to have a pet toad; nor did he laugh at the idea of a wee toad working for big Father Bear. Gently he lifted Mr. Toad from the hole and placed him on the ground
“Why, Mr. Toad, you are ill! What is the matter?' inquired Little Bear, when he saw that the toad was thin and weak.
“Water! Water!” begged the toad. “Water, please!' Without stopping to talk, Little Bear ran to get his tin pail, which he filled at the river, and carried to the sufferer. “Here, Mr. Toad,” said he, “take a good big drink.”

“Toads never drink with their mouths,” answered the toad. “Please, Little Bear, pour the water over me. I take water in through my skin.”
Greatly wondering, Little Bear did as he was told, and soon Mr. Toad was sprawling in a puddle of water, and drinking it in through his skin, and in a little while he was a plump and happy toad once more. Then out went Mr. Toad's tongue, and gone was the fly Little Bear had seen only a moment before. Another fly disappeared down Mr. Toad's throat, and then another.
“How do you do it, Mr. Toad?” asked Little Bear. “I never saw such quick work! You sit still as a mouse, dart out your tongue, and you have caught the fly! It seems wonderful to me. I couldn't do it.”
“That's nothing,” said Mr. Toad, who felt much refreshed after his bath. “Look at my tongue, Little Bear. You see, it is placed in the front of my mouth instead of at the back, and it is sticky, so that flies can't get away. But I am hungry; I must have a dozen caterpillars and forty or fifty grasshoppers and molasses, or I shall not be strong enough to travel all the way to the Three Bears' house.”
Little Bear soon ran away to play in the forest. When he came home to dinner, there was Mr. Toad under the doorstep, dressed in a bright new skin. He was winking and blinking happily.
“I have just changed my clothes,” explained Mr. Toad. “I am sorry you weren't here to see me do it.”
“Where did you put the old ones?” asked Little Bear.
“I swallowed them,” was the answer. “My coat split down the middle of the back. I pulled out my legs, drew the skin over my face, and sucked it into my mouth. Our folks get new suits at least four times a year. Please tell your father that your toad has gone into the garden to hunt. Remember, Little Bear, I'm your toad.”
Big Father Bear was much pleased when he heard about Mr. Toad. “Good news, good news!” said he.
Sure enough, from that day Mr. Toad has worked in the Three Bears' garden from late afternoon until early morning. He destroys Father Bear's enemies-flies, grasshoppers, beetles, crickets, and caterpillars.

X.

WHEN LITTLE BEAR WENT FISHING

One morning Father Bear and Mother Bear rose at dawn and went fishing. They wished to catch a big fish for breakfast.
Little Bear heard the back gate click, clickety, click! behind them. He sprang up, dressed himself quickly, and ran after his father and mother.
“Wait, Father Bear! Oh, Mother Bear, wait for me!” he called. “I woke up, and I want to go fishing, too!”
Father Bear and Mother Bear laughed when they heard Little Bear's merry voice.
“Got a fishing pole for me?” inquired Little Bear, when, by hopping and skipping, he had reached his father's side.
“No, indeed,” answered Father Bear. "My son, you are too small to go fishing.”
“Then I shall fish with my little brown paw,” declared Baby Bear, with a brisk nod.
Father Bear laughed.
“You may fish with your little brown paw if you choose,” said Mother Bear, “but I fear you will catch nothing.”

Soon the Three Bears reached the bank of the river, where Father Bear and Mother Bear baited their hooks and sat down to fish.
Baby Bear, however, stretched himself out on the bank, flat on his face, and began fishing with his little brown paw.
Father and Mother Bear smiled; but Little Bear crooned softly:

“Come, fish! Come, fish!
Come to my little brown paw.”

His song was so low and sweet, and sounded so harmless, a wee bluebird sang with him:

“Come, fish! Come, fish!
Come to my little brown paw.”

Five minutes passed, ten minutes passed, and then came a fish, swimming-swimming down the river.
The fish nibbled at Father Bear's big, big fishhook; but he did not like the bait; it was too hard for him. Then the fish nibbled at Mother Bear's middle-sized hook, but he did not like the bait; it was too soft for him.
But when that fish saw Little Bear's brown paw, fishing, fishing, in the water, and when he heard Little Bear crooning softly, and when he heard the wee bluebird singing, that big fish swam straight into Little Bear's brown paw!
Quick as a flash, Little Bear dipped that fish out of the water and upon the bank!
“Oh, I caught a fish! I caught a fish!” called Little Bear, while he danced around for joy.
“Oh, Little Bear caught a fish! Little Bear caught a fish!” cried Father Bear and Mother Bear together.
Home went three happy bears ever so early in the morning, and the fish that Little Bear caught with his brown pav was cooked for his breakfast. It was the very best and sweetest fish that Little Bear had ever tasted.