“I’ll take it to her,” spoke Beckie, as she put her school books on the sideboard; “I think she’s in the kitchen. And while I’m out there I’ll get the honey cakes.”
“Good!” cried Neddie, as he wiggled his little tail. “And while you are about it, get as many honey cakes as you can, Beckie.”
“I will,” answered the little bear girl. Bears are very fond of sweet cakes, you know, especially if they have honey in them.
But when Beckie took up the tiny envelopes she gave a little squeal of surprise, just like a baby piggie under a gate, and she said:
“Why, Neddie! These are for us—they are letters, with our names on!”
“Are they?” asked Neddie. “Sure enough!” he cried as he looked. “I wonder who can be writing to us?”
“The best way would be to open them and find out,” suggested Aunt Piffy, the fat old lady bear, as she came up from down cellar, where she had gone to keep the apples from getting lonesome. Oh, Aunt Piffy was the kindest old lady bear you ever heard of. She was even kind to the apples and potatoes, and all things like that.
“Open your letters,” she said to Neddie and Beckie, “and then you can tell whom they’re from.”
Beckie began to tear open her envelope, but Neddie, after looking at his for a moment, said:
“Oh, ho! I know. This is a joke of Uncle Wigwag’s! I’m not going to let him fool us!”