Granny courtesied again, and replied in a faltering voice, “Quite well, thank you, Mr. Bruin. It’s—it’s a fine day, sir.”
“It is indeed!” said the bear with alacrity. “It is a very fine day. I was just about to make the same remark myself. I—don’t know when I have seen a finer day. In fact, I don’t believe there ever was a finer day. A—yesterday was—a—not a fine day. A—
“Look here!” he added, in a low growl, aside to Toto, “I can’t stand much more of this. Where is Coon? He knows how to talk to people, and I don’t. I’m not accustomed to it. Now, when I go to see my grandmother, I take her a good bone, and she hits me on the head by way of saying thank you, and that’s all. I have a bone somewhere about me now,” said poor Bruin hesitatingly, “but I don’t suppose she—eh?”
“No, certainly not!” replied Toto promptly. “Not upon any account. And here’s Coon now, and the others too, so you needn’t make any more fine speeches.”
Bruin, much relieved, sat down on his haunches, and watched the approach of his companions.
The raccoon advanced cautiously, yet with a very jaunty air. The squirrel was perched on his back, and the wood-pigeon fluttered about his head, in company with a very distinguished-looking gray parrot, with a red tail; while behind came a fat woodchuck, who seemed scarcely more than half-awake.
The creatures all paid their respects to Toto’s grandmother, each in his best manner; the raccoon professed himself charmed to make her acquaintance. “It is more than a year,” he said, “since I had the pleasure of meeting your accomplished grandson. I have esteemed it a high privilege to converse with him, and have enjoyed his society immensely. Now that I have the further happiness of becoming acquainted with his elegant and highly intellectual progenitress, I feel that I am indeed most fortunate. I—”
But here Toto broke in upon the stream of eloquence. “Oh, come, Coon!” he cried, “your politeness is as bad as Bruin’s shyness. Why can’t we all be jolly, as we usually are? You need not be afraid of Granny.
“Come,” he continued, “let us have our story. We can all sit down in a circle, and fancy ourselves around the pool. Whose turn is it to-day? Yours, isn’t it, Cracker?”
“No,” said the squirrel. “It is Coon’s turn. I told my story yesterday.”