“Well, a giraffe’s neck runs out at a more convenient angle,” said the Donkey. “Still, it is tiresome without a check-rein. You hear a great deal about a check-rein being a cruel invention, but, on the contrary, it’s a great blessing. Now, a nose-bag is a positive outrage, and the more oats it contains the more of an imposition it is. People have the queerest ideas!”
At this moment Buddie’s sharp eyes discovered a large animal ahead of them, at a bend of the road.
“Goodness! It’s a bear!” she exclaimed when they drew nearer.
“Well, what of it?” said the Donkey.
“I’m afraid of bears,” confided Buddie.
“Pooh!” said the Donkey. “They’re the mildest creatures in the world.”
In spite of this assurance Buddie was glad she was not alone, else she certainly would have taken to her heels.
CHAPTER IX
TROUBLES OF A BEAR
The Bear was sitting on a wayside stump and looking up the road. That is, he would have been looking up the road if his eyes had been open instead of shut.
“He’s asleep,” whispered Buddie. “Don’t wake him.” For she could not quite bring herself to believe the Donkey’s statement that bears are the mildest creatures in the world, even if you don’t eat their porridge, and break their chairs, and rumple their beds, as the naughty old woman in the revised edition of the old story did.