THE "ONE-EARED-BEAR-THAT-WOULD-NOT MIND-HIS-PAPA"
"You remember that the little bear had promised that he would not go into the saw-mill at all; but one day the little One-Eared-Bear was very lonesome. He wanted to go into the mill, but he remembered that his papa had told him again, that very morning, that he must be sure to keep away from the saw-mill. He thought a while, and then he said to himself, 'Papa didn't tell me to keep out of the planing-mill. I think that I will go in there.'
"Now the planing-mill was just as bad a place for little bears as the saw-mill itself, and the little One-Eared-Bear knew this, but you see he wanted to go in, and so he went in any way. What do you suppose happened to the One-Eared-Bear this time?
"He played for a while, and had a very fine time. He enjoyed it so much that he said he would come again; he liked to see the wheels go round and round with a whiz-z-z-z-z-z and whir-r-r-r. Just then the little One-Eared-Bear saw a funny machine with a thing buzzing around that looked like a roller such as a cook uses to roll out cookies with.
"The little bear said, 'I want to feel the wind that must be made by this roller going so fast, but I'll not get close enough to touch the thing, for I might get hurt, and I don't want to get hurt again.'
"So the little One-Eared-Bear reached out his paw very carefully, closer and closer. Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Such howling and squealing you never heard. What do you think had happened? The little One-Eared-Bear had touched the sharp knives or planes that whirl round and round in a planer. You see they go around so fast that you can not see them at all, for they look just like a solid roller. Well, the poor little One-Eared-Bear's foot was bleeding and looked terrible.
"The Papa Bear heard the little One-Eared-Bear's howling, and ran in to the mill as fast as he could, and there he saw that the little one had lost all the toes of one foot. The Papa Bear licked the little one's foot, and did everything that he could to make his little bear feel better, but he could not put back those poor little toes. The little One-Eared-Bear was very, very sorry, too. Once he whimpered, and told his papa that he was ever so sorry that he had not done as his papa had told him to do, and said that he would never, never again do anything that his papa told him not to do. But that didn't make his toes grow again.
"The little One-Eared-Bear went to bed that night, but he didn't sleep very well, because his foot hurt him so much. After a long while the foot healed, so that the little bear could walk around, but he always limped as long as he lived. He said that he could never again forget to do as his papa told him to do, because every step that he took he remembered that foot, and how he had lost all his toes by not doing as his papa told him. After that they didn't call the little bear the little One-Eared-Bear any more. They always called him—what do you suppose? The Club-foot Bear."