The little girl was in for running, but the boy sternly bade her stay still and show no fear. Wiggledy was still racing around in the berry patch with his nose to the ground. Just then the wind veered. With a frantic yelp the dog went flying straight toward the bear.
“Wiggledy! Come back!” called the boy, frightened lest the bear would kill him. But the dog raced on.
Then something happened that left them speechless with amazement. The little dog and the big bear began romping together just as had the pup and the yearling cub the year before.
“It IS Fuzzy-Wuzz!” cried the boy. “Come here, you old rascal you,” and he fished a hunk of gingerbread from his pocket and strode up to the bear.
The bear shambled toward him eagerly, and took the tid-bit from his hand. It was Fuzzy-Wuzz, his old friends not forgotten, though he had taken to the wild where he belonged.
THE END
Transcriber’s Notes
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations in hyphenation and accents have been standardised but all other spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.