“What’s the matter?” asked Charlie Chick, who was also playing the game.
“I forgot all about the wood,” spoke Neddie. “You stay and help me carry it in; won’t you? I’ll give you a honey cake, if you do, Charlie.”
“Well, I’d like to very much,” said Charlie Chick, “for I am very fond of honey cakes. But my mamma told me to come home just as soon as it got dark. I’ve got to help shell some yellow corn for breakfast. Good-bye!”
Then Charlie Chick trotted off to his chicken coop, and all the other animal boys went to their homes, though Neddie asked each of them to stay and help him bring in the wood.
But none of them could, for they, too, had little things to do at home.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Neddie. “I’ve got to bring in the kindling wood all alone. And it’s dark! But I suppose it serves me right for letting it go so long. Next time I’ll not.” And I suppose it did serve Neddie right, though that did not make it any the more pleasant.
So the little bear boy went out to the woodpile. It was so dark he could hardly see, but still he was brave, and he made up his mind he was not going to ask Uncle Wigwag, or Mr. Whitewash, the polar bear, to help him.
“For it’s my own fault for not bringing in the wood earlier,” thought Neddie.
He hurried all he could, and brought in one pawful, which he put in the wood-box behind the stove. His mamma didn’t say anything when Neddie stood there in the kitchen a minute, sort of waiting-like, as though he hoped she would excuse him.
Mamma Stubtail really felt sorry for her little bear cub, but she knew it would be a good lesson to him. And there are more kinds of lessons in this world than you learn from your school books, you know.