"Well, Beely, I'm pretty glad I'm kill that bear, but I'm so scare I sit on that stump and shake and shake and shake just like as if I have the ague. By and by I'm feel a little better, and I think I'm going to catch that little bear what's up on the tree, so I'm cut down the tree and catch the bear; and I'm take off my belt and tie it around his neck and fetch it home. Then I go back there and skin the two bear, because the bear she's nice and fat and pretty good to eat that time.
"I have that little bear yet, and he do lots of trick. Pretty smart little fellow, pretty ugly, I tole you that. I'm call him Beely after my little friend."
"Oh, let's show him to Aunt Florence," suggested Billy, but Aunt Florence, for some reason, insisted upon going home.
"No use for me to try to say anything to him," she remarked to Betty, as they walked along the bay shore. "I'll give up. I should think that man would be ashamed when he remembers that little suit I gave 'Phonse."
"But that's the queer thing about him, auntie," Betty explained; "he never remembers anything he wants to forget. I like him, though."
"So do I, far as that goes," agreed Aunt Florence, "but I more than like that poor little Samone."
CHAPTER IX.
UNCLE JOHN'S "OLD TIMER"
Betty cried at the station when Aunt Florence went home. Billy felt like crying, but he wouldn't. Aunt Florence was sorry to leave the children, and even Gerald felt sad enough as her train disappeared among the pines, and the whistle sounded at the crossing down the bay shore.