“No, don’t do that!” cried Neddie, grabbing his sister by the paw before she could run into the cave-house. “Wait and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Oh, I know,” spoke Beckie, and tears came into her eyes. “You’re thinking of running away and becoming a trained bear! Oh, don’t do it!”
“Why not?” asked Neddie. “I think it would be fun. You know the day the skillery-scalery alligator had me by the neck, the good tame bear came along and tickled the ’gator so that he had to let me go.”
“Yes,” said Beckie. “I remember that, but I don’t see why——”
“Listen!” went on Neddie, just as the nice telephone girl says it, “listen and I’ll tell you all about it.”
So Beckie listened as hard as she could.
“The trained tame bear said he could do lots of tricks,” went on Neddie, “and he did some for me. And he also said the man gave him buns and popcorn and lots of good things to eat.”
“Oh, but papa has always taught us to be afraid of real men,” said Beckie.
“Yes, maybe real men, with guns and dogs. But this man only had a stick, like mamma’s clothes pole, and a brass trumpet. And as I ran away through the woods I could hear him blowing a lovely tune on it. I’m sure he was a good man.”
“Well, maybe,” admitted Beckie. “But are you going to run away and become a tame trained bear?”