Then he roared again, and so loudly that he made the stepladder tremble. This shook it so that Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear, fell down again. This time the stovepipe landed right on top of his head, like the tall silk hat Uncle Wiggily Longears, the rabbit gentleman, wears. And the soot from the stovepipe scattered all over Mr. Whitewash some more until he was as black as a piece of coal.
“Get out of here!” called Mr. Whitewash to the bad lion, and the lion was so scared at seeing a white bear suddenly turn black, and wear a stovepipe for a hat, that he ran away as fast as he could, taking his tufted tail with him. So he didn’t get Neddie or Beckie after all, and a little later Mr. Whitewash got the pipe all nicely fixed.
Then he took a bath, for, oh! he was so black! But soon he was as nice and white again as a French poodle. So there was no more trouble with smoke in the Stubtail cave-house, and when Beckie and Neddie came home from school they made molasses taffy on the stove.
So that’s all I can tell you now, but on the page after this, in case our cat doesn’t try to walk the telephone wire and fall off into the rose bush, I’ll tell you about Papa Stubtail in a trap.
STORY XVII
PAPA STUBTAIL IN A TRAP
Now to-night I’m going to tell you a story about something sad that happened to Hiram Stubtail, the papa bear. And I will not make it any sadder than I can help. But still I have to tell things exactly as they happened, or it would not be fair, and we must always try to be fair and honest in this world, no matter what happens. Even when we’re sad we must try.
But I will say this, though there is a sad part to the story, there is also a glad part. And the glad part I’ll put in last, so that when you go to bed you will dream about that. I always like to have pleasant dreams; don’t you?
Once I dreamed I found a lot of money and to make sure I’d have it when I awakened I put it under my pillow. But when I woke up the money was all gone. Dream money always does that, you know. It disappears.
And once I dreamed I found a lollypop, and when I put my hand under my pillow there it was—all sticky! My little girl had put it there to keep safe for the night. So that part of my dream came true.