“Oh, the bear eats most of it,” said the housekeeper.
“The bear!” cried they in great alarm. “Is there a bear?”
“Yes,” said the housekeeper.
Snythergen turned pale and looked for the door. Squeaky had already started to run and Sancho Wing flew up to the ceiling.
“Stay right here—there’s nothing to fear,” said the housekeeper, calling them back.
“The bear arrived about a week ago,” she continued when they were able to listen. “We did not want to let him in but Santa Claus telephoned the keeper at the zoological gardens and asked if bears were safe.”
“‘They are,’ said he, ‘if you feed them olives and custard pie.’
“We tried it and it worked, and now there is not a quieter member of our family than the bear after he is fed. When he is hungry is the only time he is quarrelsome. But at such times we keep food between ourselves and him.”
“We had a bear too,” said Snythergen, “but he always stole away as soon as he had eaten, and never came near except when he was hungry.”
“That’s just like our bear,” said the housekeeper, “forever trying to hide when he is not at his best. But Santa Claus has him sit around and visit after dinner, though he makes a very sorry figure.”