At the sight of her tears, the worthy Bruin uttered a remorseful growl, and boxed his own ears several times very severely, a.s.suring himself that he was quite the most stupid beast that ever lived, and that he was always making a mess of it. "I didn't mean to frighten you, ma'am," he said, "I didn't indeed; but I am such a stupid! And now," he added, "I think I must be going. Good-night, ma'am."

"What!" cried Toto, turning from his grandmother, and throwing his arms in turn round the bear's huge s.h.a.ggy neck. "Going, before we have thanked you? Going off without a word, after saving my life? Oh, you unnatural old Bruin! you shall not stir! Do you know, Granny, that he has saved my life from the owls, and that if it had not been for him you would have no Toto at all, but only a hundred little bits of him?"

And he told the whole story in glowing words, while Bruin hung his head and shuffled from one foot to another, much abashed at hearing his own praises.

And when the grandmother had heard all about it, what did she do? Why, she too put her arms round the huge s.h.a.ggy 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 s.h.a.ggy 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?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "The man taught him to beat the drum."]

"It took him," said Bruin. "He was taken when he was a little fellow, only a few months old. The man who caught him made a pet of him at first; taught him to dance, and shake paws, and beat the drum. He was a drummer in the army,--the man, I mean. He was very kind, and my cousin grew extremely fond of him."

"What was your cousin's name?" asked Toto.

"They called him 'Grimshaw;'" said Bruin. "His master's name was Shaw, and he was grim, you know, when he didn't like people, and so they called him 'Grimshaw.' He mostly _didn't_ like people," added the bear reflectively. "He certainly didn't like the showman."

"Then Shaw was not the showman?" said Toto.

"Oh, dear, no!" said Bruin. "A war broke out, and Shaw's regiment was ordered off, and he couldn't take Grimshaw with him. He was very big then, and the other soldiers didn't like him. He had a way of going into the different tents and taking anything he happened to fancy for supper; and if any one said anything to him, he boxed that one's ears.

They always tumbled down when he boxed their ears, and they made a great fuss about it, and so finally his master was obliged to sell him to the showman. _His_ name was Jinks.

"He taught my cousin several new tricks, and took him all over the country, exhibiting him in the different towns and villages. You see,"

said Bruin apologetically, "he--I mean Grimshaw--didn't know any better. He was so young when he was taken that he didn't remember much about his family, and didn't know what an undignified sort of thing it was to be going about in that way. One day, however, Jinks undertook to make him waltz with a piece of meat on his nose, without attempting to eat it. Grimshaw would not do that, because he didn't think it was reasonable; and I don't think it was. So then Jinks attempted to beat him, and Grimshaw boxed his ears, and he tumbled down and didn't get up again. Grimshaw waited a few minutes, and finding that he did not seem inclined to move, he ran away and took to the woods."

"But why did not the showman get up?" inquired the grandmother innocently.

"I think it highly probable that he was dead, madam," replied Bruin.

"But I cannot say positively, as I was not there.

"After this Grimshaw lived alone for some time, wandering about from one forest to another. One day, as he was roaming up and down, he came suddenly upon a party of soldiers, three or four in number, sitting round a fire, and cooking their dinner. The moment they saw the bear, they dropped everything, and ran for their lives, leaving the good chops to burn, which was a sin. It was a good thing for Grimshaw, however, as he was very hungry; so he sat down by the fire and made a hearty meal. After he had dined comfortably, he began to look about him, and spied a big drum, which the soldiers had left behind in their flight. Seizing the drumsticks, he began to beat a lively tattoo. In a few moments he heard a rustling among the bushes, and saw a man's head thrust cautiously out. What was his delight to recognize his old master, Sergeant Shaw! He threw down the drumsticks and uttered a peculiar howl. It was answered by a shrill whistle, and in another moment Shaw and Grimshaw were in each other's arms. When the other soldiers ventured to return, they found the two gravely dancing a hornpipe, with great mutual satisfaction."

"Oh! how delightful!" exclaimed Toto. "And did they stay together after that?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "They found the two dancing a hornpipe."]

"No, that was impossible," replied the bear. "But they spent a couple of days together, and parted with the utmost good-will.

"After roaming about for some time longer, my cousin met some other bears, who invited him to join them. To their great amazement, one of them turned out to be Grimshaw's elder brother; he recognized Grimshaw by one of his ears, out of which he had himself bitten a piece in their infancy. This was a very joyful meeting, and led to the restoration of Grimshaw to his parents, who were still alive. He spent the remainder of his life in peace and happiness; and that is all there is to tell about him.

"And now," continued Bruin, "you ought to have been asleep long ago, Toto, and I have been keeping you awake with my long story. Off with you, now! And good-night to you too, dear madam. I will lie here in front of the fire; and if any creature, human or otherwise, comes to disturb the house during the night, I will attend to that creature!"

CHAPTER XIII.

The grandmother thought, the next morning, that she had not pa.s.sed such a pleasant evening, or such a comfortable and restful night, for a long time. "Dear me!" she said, after Bruin had departed, with many thanks and at least ten profound bows,--"dear me! what a difference it makes, having a bear in the house! one feels so secure; and one does not think of waking up to listen, every time a branch snaps outside, or a door creaks in the house. I wonder--" But the grandmother did not tell Toto what she wondered.

The next fine afternoon, the animals all came to the cottage in good season, for they were to have a story from their kind hostess herself this time, and it was to be about a giant.

"And if you will believe it," said the racc.o.o.n, "our poor Chucky here does not--ha! ha!--actually does not know what a giant is! Will you kindly explain to him, dear madam?"

"Ugh!" grunted the woodchuck. "I don't believe you know yourself, c.o.o.n, for all your airs! You said this morning it was a kind of vegetable, and now--"

"Stop quarrelling, and listen to the story, will you?" said Bruin.

"Wow!"

When the bear said "Wow" in that manner, all the others knew it meant business; and as he lay down at the grandmother's feet, they all drew nearer, and were silent in expectation.

"A giant," said the grandmother, "is like a man, only very much bigger; very, _very_ much bigger. The giant about whom I am going to tell you was one of the largest of his kind, being no less than fourteen miles high."

There was a general murmur of amazement.

"Fourteen miles high!" the old lady repeated. "His name was as short as he himself was long, for it was neither more nor less than _Crump_; and he fell in love with the Lady Moon. He fell so deeply in love with her that it was quite impossible for him to get out again; so he informed her of the fact, and begged her to marry him.

'Come and share my mammoth lot, And shine in my gigantic cot!'

That was what he said, or words to that effect.

"But the Lady Moon replied, 'Dear Crump, I would gladly do as you suggest, but the thing is not possible. I have no body, but only a head; and I could not think of going into church to be married without any body, to say nothing of legs and feet.'

"'Is that your only objection?' asked Giant Crump.

"'The only one, upon my lunar honor!' replied the Lady Moon.

"'Then I think I can manage it,' said the giant. Accordingly he went and gathered together all the silver there was in the world at that time, and out of it he made a beautiful silver body, with arms and legs all complete. And when it was finished he made a silver dress, and silver slippers, and a silver moonshade, and dressed the body up in the most fashionable and delightful manner. Then, when all was ready, he called to the Lady Moon, and told her that her body was ready, and that she had only to come down and put it on.

"'But I cannot come down,' said the Lady Moon. 'Nothing would induce me to come down without a body. You must bring it up here.'

"Now that was not an easy thing to do; for though Crump was very big, he was not nearly big enough. What are fourteen miles, compared with two hundred and forty thousand? However, he was a very persevering giant, and had no idea of giving up; and he was very clever too. So he sat down on the ground and reflected for the s.p.a.ce of seven years, and at the end of that time a thought struck him.

"He rose at once, and went to work and made a pair of stilts, high enough to reach to the moon. That was quite a piece of work, as you may imagine; but when they were finished, a new difficulty arose: how was he to get up on them? This required more reflection, and Crump sat and thought about it for six weeks more. Then another thought struck him, which was really an extremely clever one. He made a long ladder, as long as the stilts. He set this up against one of the stilts, and climbed up and put one foot on it; and then he set the ladder against the other stilt, and climbed up and put the other foot on that; this was very difficult, but it was also very clever. I forgot to say that he took the silver body up with him. Then he called out to the Lady Moon, 'Here I am, dear Lady Moon, and here is your silver body. Stop now, stop your rolling, and let me fasten it on for you, and then come down and be my beautiful silver bride.' And he held up the silver body, which shone and sparkled in the most enchanting manner.