“Goldilocks—hum—Goldilocks,” mused Shagg. “What a piece of good fortune came to our family when she broke those beds and chairs. For—so the family tradition goes—it was in mending them that Great Big Bear found he had a knack for handling tools. That very same summer he built an entirely new set of chairs. Then he got to making things for the neighbors and now—why, just look here.”
And going to the doors that were made from small trees, Shagg swung them apart and so disclosed a deep cavern that extended far into the side of the mountain. There, inside, were whole dozens of beds with inviting looking rocks for mattresses, many massive chairs and no end of footstools to match.
“My, what a lot of them!” marveled Little Black Bear. “Do you sell many?”
“Well, not at this time of year,” explained Shagg, as he closed and bolted the doors. “Most of the bear families are too busy vacationing and roaming about through the forest during the summer to have much use for furniture. But as autumn wanes and they begin to think of the long winter nights when they will sit at home sucking their paws and drowsing before the fire, I’ll tell you the thought of possessing a big roomy chair and a footstool is a highly pleasing one. And, though I do say it, no one makes better furniture than Shagg, the Carpenter. Why, with anything like care, and provided the owner isn’t a terribly loud snorer, one of my chairs will last all of two winters. But, of course, there are snorers that will loosen the joints of the best chair that ever was made.”
And so he rambled on, telling no end of interesting things until, chancing to glance up at the sun, he sprang to his feet.
“Screws and screw drivers!” he exclaimed. “I had no idea it was so late.” And he hurried back to the bench. “You see I always aim to build at least one chair every morning. Would you care to watch me work?”
“Oh, I’d love to,” answered Little Black Bear.
“Ever use a saw?” the big fellow asked as he busied himself at the vise.
“Goodness, no. I shouldn’t know how to begin,” answered the watcher, as he climbed to a seat on the far end of the bench.
“Well, just remember this, then,” instructed Shagg, as he gave the vise-handle an extra hard twist, “if you ever do use one—or any tool for that matter—don’t hold it too tightly. That’s nearly always the trouble with beginners. They just grip for all they’re worth and try to do all of the aiming. But what I say is—let a saw alone. Give it something like a free head and it will follow the line most every time.”