As the Bear finished the last sentence he suddenly rose, and drew out from beneath a thick tuft of hair on his right side, a very large watch, with a broad gold face and a tortoise-shell back.
“I must go,” said he, hurrying on his short cloak, his cap, and comforter, “for it is nearly ten o’clock, and before I go to bed I have some work to do. But I will come again to-morrow night and finish my story. Mrs. Littlepump, I am your respectful and grateful, humble servant! Mr. Dr. Littlepump, I am also yours. Good-night to you, Miss Nancy, and to you, little Val, and to you, pretty Miss Margaret, and to all my young friends, and all the rest. May you all sleep well, and with happy dreams!”
“Good-night,” cried all the children in a loud chorus. “Oh, be sure to come to-morrow evening!”
“Good-night, Mr. Bear!” cried everybody, while the stout gentleman bustled, and hustled, and rustled, and scuffled out of the room, and along the passage, and out of the street-door, and into the street, where he was soon lost sight of in the snow which was now falling very fast.
Second Evening
The next evening, about dusk, all the children who had been visiting Nancy and Valentine came again in a troop, scrambling and crowding at the door to get in first. They were so anxious to hear the remainder of the Bear’s story. As they all came into the room, they cried out, “Is he come?—When will he come?”
Dr. Littlepump walked up and down the room with an air of serious anxiety; anyone could see he had something on his mind. Mrs. Littlepump also said more than once that she hoped no accident would happen on the road to prevent the coming of Mr. Bear. Margaret now became very anxious and fidgetty, and looked at Uncle Abraham, as though she was a little vexed at his indifference about the event in which everybody else took so much interest. Dorothea, Lydia, and Wallis, all said they, for their parts, had been unable to sleep all last night for thinking of the stout gentleman’s story. But nothing of all this seemed to move Uncle Abraham, who sat smoking his Dutch pipe and twinkling his eyes. Presently, however, the clock struck five, and he rose from his chair, saying he must go and make a little visit a few doors off before he went to bed. They all begged him very hard to stay and see Mr. Bear, but he shook his head, and said, “Pooh” and walked away. Margaret looked pleased when he was gone, but the children said it was very naughty of him not to stay.
Margaret said, “Let us play a little game until Mr. Bear arrives.”
“Yes,” said all the children.
They began to play the game, but they did not attend to it. Their minds were too much filled with the expectation of Mr. Bear.