And when the grandmother had heard all about it, what did she do? Why, she too put her arms round the huge shaggy neck; and if ever a bear came near being hugged to death, it was that bear.
“And now,” said the grandmother, when she had recovered her composure, and had thanked and blessed Bruin till he did not know whether he had one head or seven, “it is very late, and I am sure you must be tired. Why will you not stay and spend the night with us? There is a beautiful fire in the kitchen, and a nice soft rug in front of it, on which you could sleep very comfortably. Do stay!”
The bear rubbed his nose and looked helplessly at Toto. “I don’t think—” he began.
“Of course he will stay,” said Toto decidedly. “There isn’t any ‘thinking’ about it. He will stay. Walk in, old fellow, and sit down in front of the fire, and Granny will give us both some supper. Oh! my Granny dear, if you knew how hungry I am!”
It would have been a pleasant sight, had there been any one there to enjoy it, to see the trio gathered around the bright wood-fire an hour later. The grandmother sat in her high-backed arm-chair, in snowy cap and kerchief, knitting and smiling, smiling and knitting, as happy and contented as a grandmother could possibly be. On the other side of the hearth sat the bear, blinking comfortably at the fire, while Toto leaned against his shaggy side, and chattered like a magpie.
“How jolly this is!” he said. “It reminds me of Snow-White and Rose-Red, when the bear came and slept in front of the fire. By the way, Bruin, you are not an enchanted prince, are you? The bear in that story was an enchanted prince. What fun if you should be!”
“Not to my knowledge,” replied the bear, shaking his head. “Not—to—my—knowledge. Never heard of such a thing in our branch of the family. I had a cousin once who travelled with a showman, but that is the only thing of the kind that I know of.”
“Tell us about your cousin!” said Toto, eager, as usual, for a story. “How came he to take to the show business?”
