He looked exactly like a little fisherman in his yellow slicker, and long rubber boots, with his old felt hat turned down. Mother laughed as she kissed him "goodbye" and wished him luck.
It was great fun riding along the road through the woods, and listening to the rain falling on the leaves. But there wasn't a thing in sight except a flock of crows.
"Have you aways lived around here, Bob?" asked Buddy Jim.
"Sure," said Old Bob the gardener, "ever since I was a baby; right over in that field yonder was where I used to go to school; the school house is gone now, and there's nothing left to mark the place except a clump of lilac bushes that I helped the teacher to set out one spring day, when I wasn't a mite bigger than you are now."
"I remember that day well," he went on. "I was late getting the bushes planted and so I took a short cut through these woods and just as I got about where we are now, who should come from behind a big hemlock tree but old lady Black Bear, thin as a rail from her long winter sleep, and looking hungry."
"My!" said Buddy Jim, his eyes wide open. "What did you do?"
"I'm afraid I was rude to the lady," said Old Bob, "because I did not even wish her 'good evening,'—I ran for home just as fast as my legs could carry me."
"Did she run after you?" breathlessly asked Buddy Jim.
The old man laughed. "I couldn't truthfully say," said he, "I didn't look behind me."
"I think I should have done the same thing," said Buddy Jim.