THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STORY.
BY KATE LAWRENCE.
WATCHING FOR PAPA.
THERE were once two little bears who lived in a cave in the woods.
Papa Bear had been killed by a hunter, and his skin made into a coat, which the hunter wore while killing other bears.
Mamma Bear accepted this hard fact, but the little bears never gave up hoping that he would come, and they used to watch for him at the window every day.
One day when they were watching, they saw two little boys who had come into the woods for berries. Their baskets were about half full, but some dispute had arisen, and the luscious fruit hung ungathered while the two boys fought—boxing and scratching one another in a manner too shocking to be described.
“O, Mamma Bear!” they cried together, “do come and see; here are two of those dreadful creatures whom you call boys—they are fighting terribly.”
“Don’t stand and look at them, my darlings,” said Mamma B.; (the children sometimes called her Mamma B.) “‘evil communications corrupt good manners.’”
“What does that mean Mamma B.,” asked the little bears.
Now Mamma Bear did not like this question, for she did not know exactly what it meant herself. But she managed to say, “It means, my dears, that if you like to stand and watch boys and girls when they are quarrelling and fighting, you will soon get to be as bad as they are yourselves.”
At this both the little bears put their paws up over their faces, and cried, “O, Mamma B.!” for their feelings were dreadfully hurt by this comparison. “O, Mamma B., we couldn’t be so bad! never, never!”
“I hope not,” said Mamma B., kindly; “but when I was a little bear, my mother used to say, sometimes, that her children were as cross as boys and girls.”
“O, Mamma B.!” cried the little bears again. “Boys and girls are dreadful creatures, aren’t they?”
THE SLEEP OF THE INNOCENT.
“Men and women are dreadful creatures,” said Mamma B.; “and though their babies are very gentle and playful at first, it will not do to trust them. Human nature soon begins to show itself. Men often kill, not to get their food, or defend themselves against their natural enemies, as bears do, but for the pleasure of killing. Besides they kill each other; and that, you know, bears very seldom do.”
“But we kill lambs and calves, mamma dear,” said one little bear, proudly; “I have killed a chicken myself!”
“That was for your natural food,” said Mamma Bear, beaming upon him fondly. “The most intelligent animals are those which, like bears, eat both meat and vegetables. Men are almost as intelligent as we are; but they never will be truly wise, until they learn to live in peace with each other, as bears do.”
Before the little bears went to bed that night, their mamma taught them this pretty little hymn:
“Let boys delight to scold and fight,
For ’tis their nature to;
Let naughty children scratch and bite—
All human beings do.
“But little bearies, never let
Your angry passions rise;
Your little paws were never made
To tear each other’s eyes.”
When the little bears could recite this perfectly, they went to sleep with their paws around each other’s necks, resolving that they would never, never quarrel, for fear that they might sometime get to be as bad as boys and girls; and their mamma could not but feel grateful that they were so docile.