“I do certainly,” said Caleb, and he dropped the corner of his jacket, which had the button attached to it, and looked out of the window directly at the mountain.
Presently Caleb turned away from the window, and ran to the door. There was a little green yard in front of the house, with a large, smooth, flat stone for a door-step. Caleb stood on this step, and looked intently at the mountain. In a moment he ran back to his grandmother, and said,
“Grandmother, do come and see this black bear.”
“Why, child,” said she, smiling, “it is nothing but some old black stump or log.”
“But it moves, grandmother. It certainly moves.”
So his grandmother smiled, and said, “Well, I suppose I must come and see.” So she laid down her work, and took off her spectacles, and Caleb took hold of her hand, and trotted along before her to the step of the door. It was a beautiful sunny morning in June.
“There,” said Caleb, triumphantly pointing to a spot among the rocks and bushes half-way up the mountain,—“there, what do you call that?”
His grandmother looked a moment intently in silence, and then said,
“I do see something there under the bushes.”
“And isn't it moving?” said Caleb.