Mother Bear.
The memories of little folks are short, so far as their troubles are concerned. Hardly was Boxer, the runaway little Bear, out of sight of Prickly Porky the Porcupine than his eyes, ears and nose were so busy trying to discover new things that he hardly thought of his recent trouble. To be sure that paw from which he had pulled one of Prickly Porky’s little spears was sore, but not enough so to worry him much. And there were so many other things to think about that he couldn’t waste time on troubles that were over.
So the little Bear wandered this way and that way, as something new caught his eyes or some strange sound demanded to be looked into. He was having a wonderful time, for he felt that he was indeed out in the Great World and it was a wonderful and beautiful place. If he thought of his twin sister, Woof-Woof, at all, it was to pity her tagging along at Mother Bear’s heels and doing only those things which Mother Bear said she could.
By and by something white moving about near an old stump caught his attention. At once he hurried over to satisfy his curiosity. When he got near enough he discovered a little fellow dressed in black-and-white. He had a big plumy tail and he was very busy minding his own business. He hardly glanced at Boxer.
Boxer stared at him for a few minutes. “Hello,” he ventured finally.
“Good morning. It is a fine morning, isn’t it?” said the little stranger politely.
“What are you doing?” demanded the little Bear rudely.
“Just minding my own business,” replied the little stranger pleasantly. “Where is your mother?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’ve left home,” said Boxer, trying to look big and important.
“You don’t say!” exclaimed the little stranger. “Aren’t you rather small to be starting out alone in the Great World?”