One time Little Bear came near being carried away to town. It was when he was a weenty baby, before he was big enough to have a porridge bowl of his own, or a tiny chair, or a wee bed upstairs. It happened this way:
When middle-sized Mother Bear came down one morning to get breakfast, she carried Baby Bear in her arms and put him in his wooden cradle with the rockers. He was wide awake, but while he lay there watching the fire in the big fireplace and listening to the teakettle singing and the porridge bubbling, he fell asleep again.
Quietly Mother Bear filled the big, big porridge bowl and the middle-sized porridge bowl. Then she motioned for Father Bear to sit at the table.
"Isn't the porridge too hot?" whispered Father Bear, in a big, gruff whisper.
Middle-sized Mother Bear tasted the porridge and it burned her mouth. "Yes, it is too hot," she agreed.
12"I will go for a walk in the forest while the porridge cools," said Father Bear as he reached for his big hat and tiptoed softly to the door.
A few moments later Mother Bear stepped out to get a basin of rain water for Sonny Bear's bath. Sonny Bear was sound asleep, but Mother Bear carefully closed the door behind her when she left the little house.
One moment later, a man, carrying a gun, saw the house in the forest, and, wondering who might live there, walked up the path and knocked at the door. He had been walking since daylight and was tired and hungry.
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