“Well, it is not so very late, and there is a nice moon, so I think I will see if you little new bears can do any tricks. Come now, climb that pole!” and he pointed to a telegraph pole growing in the woods.
“Oh, we can’t climb that,” said Neddie, quickly.
“Why not?” asked the man with the bald head. “You must climb it if you are to be trick-trained bears.”
“Why, the pole is too smooth and slippery,” said Beckie. “It has no branches sticking out to take hold of, as a tree has.”
“Pooh! That’s nothing. George can climb the pole,” said his master. “Show ’em how, George.”
“All right, Professor,” said George, free and easy like, and up the pole he went, like a jumping-jack on a string.
Then Neddie tried it, but he slipped back, and so did Beckie. They had not yet learned how to stick their claws in the smooth telegraph pole, and hold on.
“I’m afraid you’ll never be trick bears,” said the Professor. “I must teach you to climb a pole. We’ll try it again to-morrow.”
But Neddie and Beckie did not wait until next day. All of a sudden, out from under a bush, came the biggest skillery-scalery alligator the bear children had ever seen. Right for Beckie and Neddie the ’gator came, and Neddie cried:
“Come on, Beckie! Up the pole we go and then he can’t get us!”