"Because you are as pretty as a rose," and at that Ethel laughed. "But come," went on Curly, "I'll show you the way to our bungalow, and then Uncle Wiggily will take care of you."
"Oh, will he?" cried Ethel Rose, and so she walked along beside Curly, who was carrying his pail of sour milk. And, all of a sudden, when they were near the bungalow, there was a rustling in the bushes, and out jumped a big black bear.
"Ah, ha!" the bear cried. "Now I have you Curly, and you, too, Ethel
Rose! Oh, how nice! You come with me and I will tell your fortune!"
"But I know my fortune already," said Ethel Rose, and she was just ready to cry again, for she did not like bears.
"Never mind, come along to my den, anyhow!" growled the bear. "I am going to have roast pork for supper!" and he made a grab for Curly and Ethel Rose, and caught them in his big claws.
And then, all at once, he saw the pail Curly was carrying—that bear did—and he growled out:
"Ha! Ha! What have we here? Something good, I'll venture. Well, I'll take that first!" And before Curly could stop him the bear tipped up the pail and drank every drop of sour milk at one mouthful! And then! Oh, dear!
"Wow! Woof! Snickery-snee! Bur-r-r! Lemons! Vinegar! Sourgrass!" cried the bear. And his mouth was puckered up so from the sour milk—just as when you eat lemons if you have the mumps—that the bear couldn't open his jaws to take even one bite. And Curly knew this, so he cried:
"Come on, Ethel Rose, we can get away now! Uncle Wiggily will save us!" So Curly Tail helped Ethel Rose to run away and the bear's mouth was so puckered up from the sour milk that he had to run down to the lake to get a drink of water, and so Curly Tail and pretty Ethel Rose got safely to the bungalow and away from the bear. And that's all there is tonight, if you please.
But the next story, in case the marshmallow doesn't stick on Ethel Rose's hair ribbon, and make a pin cushion of it, will be about Flop and the pie lady.