The crocuses are up on the lawn,” said Teddy’s mother, who was standing at the window and looking out. “And just hear that blackbird! I always feel as though spring were really here when I hear the blackbirds sing.”
Teddy was still in bed. It seemed to him sometimes that he had spent his whole life lying there in the India-room, under the silk counterpane, and that it was some other Teddy who used to go to school and shout and play with the boys in the street.
“I wish I could go out-of-doors the way I used to,” he said.
“So do I,” said mamma. “But never mind, darling. The doctor says it won’t be so very long now before you can be out again, and this afternoon we’ll play some nice game or other that you can play in bed. Now what would you like it to be?” But before Teddy could answer she added, “Oh dear! There comes Aunt Mariah.”
Aunt Mariah lived down at the other end of the village, and she generally came every fortnight to spend an afternoon with Teddy’s mother. She always brought her knitting in a bag, and a white net cap that she put on before the glass as soon as she had taken her bonnet off.
Teddy liked to have her come, her needles flew so fast, and she used to recite to him, —
“A was an archer, and shot at a frog;
B was a butcher, and had a great dog.”
Then when he was tired of sitting with her and mamma, he could run out-of-doors and play.
But he found it was different to-day from what it had been before. He was still weak from his illness, and after she had told him all the verses that she knew, he grew weary of hearing her talk of Cousin George’s wife, and Mrs. Appleby’s rheumatism.
His mother saw that he was growing restless and that his cheeks were flushed, so she asked Aunt Mariah to come over to her room to look at some calico she had been buying.
When they had gone Teddy lay for a time enjoying the silence of the room, but after a while it began to seem too still and the clock ticked with a strange loud sound. He wished Aunt Mariah would go away and let mamma come back again. It was so lonely, and he was tired of his books.
He was lying on his back, and presently he drew up his knees, and then over the tops of them he could only see the upper half of the window, and the tips of the pine-trees against the still blue sky outside.
“Oh dear, dear, dear!” said the Counterpane Fairy’s voice just behind the hill. “Steeper than ever to-day. Will I ever get to the top?” A minute after he saw her little figure standing on the hill, dark against the sky, and the staff in her hand like a thin black line.
“Oh, dear Counterpane Fairy!” cried Teddy, “have you come to show me another story?”
“Are you sure you want to see one?” asked the Counterpane Fairy.
“Oh, yes, yes, I do!” cried Teddy. “Your stories don’t make me feel tired the way Aunt Mariah’s do.”
The fairy shook her head. “I thought her stories were very pleasant,” she said.
“So they are,” said Teddy, “but I like her stories best when I’m all well, and I like your stories best when I’m sick. Besides I only hear her stories and I see yours.”
The fairy smiled. “Well, then, which square will you choose this time?” she said.
“I think I would like that one,” said Teddy, pointing to a square of watered ribbon that shaded from white to a sea-green.
“That’s rather a long story,” said the fairy, doubtfully.
“Oh, please show it!” begged Teddy.
“Well,” said the Fairy, “fix your eyes on it while I count.”
Then she began and he heard her voice going on and on. “FORTY-NINE!” she cried.
Teddy was floating on a block of ice across the wide, green Polar sea. The Counterpane Fairy was with him, and all around were great fields of ice and floating white bergs. The air was very still and cold, but Teddy liked it all the better for that, for now he was an ice-fairy. He was dressed from head to foot in a suit that shone and sparkled like woven frost, and in his belt was a knife as shining as an icicle. Something kept bobbing and tickling his forehead, and when he caught hold of it he found it was the end of the long cap he wore.
As they drifted along, sometimes they saw a walrus with long tusks lying on the ice, or a soft-eyed seal. Once some strange little beings that looked like dwarfs, with goggle eyes and straggling black hair, caught hold of the block of ice, and lifting themselves out of the water made faces at Teddy, but the moment they saw the Counterpane Fairy their looked changed to one of fear, and with a queer gurgling cry they dropped from the ice and were gone.
“What were those things?” asked Teddy.
“They were ice-mermen,” said the Counterpane Fairy. “Naughty, mischievous things they are. I’d like to pack them all off to the North Pole if I could.”
“Oh, look! look!” cried Teddy. “Just look at those little bears playing over there.”
They had drifted in quite near to the shore, and in among the blocks of ice three white bear cubs were playing together like fat little boys. They were climbing to the top of an ice-hillock and then sliding down again.
As soon as they saw Teddy and the Counterpane Fairy they began to call: “Oh, Father Bear! Father Bear! Just come look at these funny things floating in to shore on a block of ice.”
In a moment from behind the ice-hill came a great white father bear galloping up as fast as he could to see what the matter was. He came over toward Teddy growling, “Gur-r-r! gur-r-r-r! Who are you, coming and frightening my little bears this way?” But as soon as he saw the Counterpane Fairy he grew quite humble. “Oh, excuse me,” he said. “I didn’t know it was a friend of yours.”
“Yes, it is,” said the fairy, “and I have brought him here to stay awhile. Will you take good care of him?”
“Yes, I will,” said Father Bear. “He shall sleep in the cave with us and have part of our meat if he will, and I will be as careful of him as though he were one of my own cubs.”
“Very well,” said the fairy; “mind you do.” Then turning to Teddy she bade him step on shore.
“But aren’t you coming too?” asked Teddy.
“No,” said the Counterpane Fairy, “I can’t come, but Father Bear will take good care of you.” So Teddy stepped onto the shore, and the fairy pushed the block of ice out into the water, and waving her hand to him she drifted away across the open sea.
The Father Bear stood watching her until she was out of sight, and then he turned to Teddy. “Now, you Fairy,” he said, “you may climb up onto my back, and I’ll carry you to my wife; she’ll take good care of you for as long as the Counterpane Fairy chooses to leave you here.”
The three little bears cubs had disappeared, but as soon as the Father Bear carried Teddy around the hill of ice he saw what had become of them. They were sitting with the Mother Bear at the door of a cave. One of them was sucking its paws, and the other two were talking as fast as they could. The Mother Bear looked worried and anxious.
“What’s all this Dumpy and Sprawley are telling me?” she said. “And what’s that you have on your back?”
“It’s an ice-fairy,” growled old Father Bear, “and the Counterpane Fairy wants us to take care of it for a while. You don’t mind, my dear, do you?”
“Oh dear, dear!” said the Mother Bear, “I suppose not, but what shall we give it to eat, and how shall we keep it?”
“Oh, it will do just the other cubs do, I suppose,” said the Father Bear. Then turning to Teddy he said, “You eat meat, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Teddy, timidly.
“Then that’s all right,” said the Father Bear. “Here, you children, take this fairy off and let him play with you.”
Two of the little bears, Fatty (who was the one who had been sucking his paws) and Dumpy, were delighted to have a new playmate, and they told him he might come over and slide down their hill, but the third one, Sprawley, scowled and grumbled. “Another one to be eating up our meat,” he said. “Just as if there weren’t enough of us without.”
Still he went over with them to the icehill and they all began sliding down.
After a while Sprawley said: “I know a great deal nicer hill than this one. It’s just a little farther on; come on and I’ll show it to you.”
“Oh,” said Fatty, “but suppose we should see some ice-mermen?”
“Pooh!” said Sprawley, “I ain’t afraid. It’s a great deal nicer than this. Come on.”
So the three little bears and Teddy trotted on to another hill, and it really was much longer and steeper than the other; it went down almost to the edge of the sea.
They had slidden down it only a few times when Dumpy cried out: “Oh! look! look! There are some ice-mermen and they are making faces at me.”
There they were, sure enough, looking over the edge of the ice, — ugly little gray things with mouths like fishes, and they were making faces, and presently they began to sing, —
“Bear cubs! Bear cubs! Look at their toes;
Look at their ears and their hair and their nose.
The great big walrus will surely come
To eat up the bear cubs and give us some.”
Dumpy growled at them, though he was frightened, but Fatty began to cry.
Just then one of the mermen sent a piece of ice sliding across at them, and it hit Fatty’s paws and upset her. She was so fat that she rolled over and over before she could get up. Dumpy ran to her, and as soon as she was on her feet again they began galloping toward home as fast as they could, followed by Sprawley and Teddy.
As they ran along Teddy saw that Sprawley was shaking all over, and he thought it was because he was afraid, until he caught up to him; then he saw that he was laughing. “What are you laughing at?” he asked, but Sprawley only showed his teeth and growled in answer.
When they reached the cave and told the Mother Bear about the mermen she scolded them well for going so near the edge of the water, and said it was time for them to go to bed. Father Bear was going on a hunt the next day, and he was going to let the cubs go part of the way with him, so they must have a good rest.
The Mother Bear gave them each their share of seal meat, and then she went into the cave.
“Oh, Fatty,” said Sprawley, “just look behind you and see if you don’t see a merman.”
Fatty turned her head, but there was nothing there. When she looked back again she burst into a loud whine. “Ou-u-u! ou-u-u-u!” she cried, “Sprawley stole my nicest piece of meat, so he did. Ou-u-u!”
Out shuffled Mother Bear in a hurry. “You naughty cub,” she cried, aiming a blow at Sprawley’s ear. But quick as a wink Sprawley slipped behind Dumpy, and it was upon Dumpy that the blow fell.
And now Dumpy joined in with his sister. “Ou-u-u!” he cried.
“There, there!” cried the poor Mother Bear, “don’t you cry any more and I’ll give you each an extra piece of meat.”
So they stopped crying and ate their suppers contentedly, and after that they all went to bed, and the little cubs had hardly lain down before they were fast asleep.
Teddy did not go to sleep, however. He lay looking at the ice-roof of the cave and thinking how strange it was to be there. Presently he heard the Mother Bear say very softly, “Husband, husband, are you awake?”
“Yes, I am,” said the Father Bear. “What do you want?”
The Mother Bear sighed. “I don’t know how it is, husband,” she said, “but I never had a cub like Sprawley before. He is so naughty and mischievous that he keeps his little brother and sister whining all the time.”
“You ought to box him,” said the Father Bear.
“That’s all very well,” said the Mother Bear, “but when I try to box him he slips behind the others and pushes them forward, and he is so quick that twice I have boxed Dumpy instead of him by mistake.”
The Father Bear grunted and they were silent for a while, but presently the Mother Bear began again, more softly than ever. “Do you know, husband, sometimes I wonder whether Sprawley can really be my cub. If I could only count them I might find out. If there were only one and one I could count them, but there are more than one and one.”
“Well,” said Father Bear, “I should think that would be easy. Let’s see. There’s Dumpy, and he’s one, and Fatty, and she’s one, and Sprawley, and he’s one. And now how many does that make?”
“Oh dear!” said the Mother Bear, “Don’t ask me. My head’s all of a whirl already.”
“Then you’d better go to sleep, my dear,” said her husband. “The next thing you know you’ll be having a headache to-morrow. You think too much.”
“Yes,” said the Mother Bear, sighing, “That’s so; I suppose I do think too much, but then I can’t help it. I always was thinking ever since I was a cub. It’s the way I’m made. Good-night.”
“Good-night,” said the Father Bear, and then they, too, went to sleep.
Teddy seemed to be the only one left awake. Dumpy kept crowding up against him and snoring with his nose close to Teddy’s ear. Teddy pushed him once or twice, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. Once he poked him so hard that the little bear gave a snort and stopped snoring for a while, but soon he began again.
But after all Teddy found he was not the only one in the cave who was not asleep. Sprawley, who was lying on the other side of Fatty, had began to stir and sit up; he looked about at the sleeping bears, and then very quietly began to edge himself toward the mouth of the cave.
Once the Mother Bear gave a low growl in her sleep and Sprawley stopped still to listen, but she didn’t waken.
Teddy wondered what Sprawley was going to do, and so, as soon as the cub had disappeared through the mouth of the cave, he too crawled over to the opening.
When he looked out he saw Sprawley shuffling over the fields of ice in the distance, and already quite far away, so, led by his curiosity, Teddy, too, crept out of the cave and set off running after the bear cub.
He ran on and on until he was quite close to Sprawley, and then he saw the cub pause at the edge of a strip of open water, and turn to look behind him to make sure that he was not followed. He did not see Teddy, for the fairy had hidden quickly behind a block of ice.
Sprawley turned toward the water again and gave a long, quavering cry that sounded like a call. He listened, but everything was silent except for the rumbling and cracking of the ice in the distance. Again he called, and this time there was an answering cry, and another, and another. Sprawley stood up and waved his paws, and then Teddy saw that the open water was dotted with heads of ice-mermen; there must have been ten or twelve of them at least.
They swam over to where Sprawley stood, and climbing out on the ice they seemed to be welcoming him, hopping and sliding about, and pulling at his hair and claws. Now that Teddy saw them quite close they were uglier than ever, with goggle eyes, and rough, fishy-looking skins.
They all sat on the edge of the ice, and now and then one of them would dive off, to reappear again, all wet and glistening, and then it would climb up and sit on the ice again in a row with the others. They all talked together, and their voices were so queer and husky that Teddy could not understand what they were saying at first. At last he made out that they were asking Sprawley about him, —where he had come from, and how.
“Well, I’ll tell you how he came,” said Sprawley, and all the mermen stopped to listen. Sprawley, too, was silent for a moment, and then he said in a low, impressive voice, “The Counterpane Fairy brought him.”
There was a long, quavering cry from the mermen, and several of them dived off into the water and did not reappear again for some minutes; when they did, their faces were all wrinkled up with anxiety.
They climbed up onto the edge of the ice and sat there blinking at the sky for a while in silence; then one of them said in a trembling voice, “Well, we haven’t been doing anything but just frightening the bear cubs a little.”
“How about knocking Fatty down with a piece of ice?” asked Sprawley, derisively.
“Scritchy did that,” cried all the mermen but one. “We didn’t do it. Scritchy did that.”
The merman who hadn’t spoken, and who was Scritchy, still did not say a word. He looked at the others with his goggle eyes and then he tumbled off into the water and swam away as fast as he could and did not come back any more.
All the other mermen looked after him in silence until he had disappeared; then one of them said in an awe-struck voice, “It’s bad for you, Sprawley, ain’t it? Just think what you’ve been doing.”
“Pooh,” said Sprawley, pretending he was not frightened, “what do I care? I can fix it all right.”
“How?” asked all the mermen together.
“Well, listen, and I’ll tell you,” said Sprawley. “To-morrow Father and Mother Bear are going hunting, and all of us little cubs are to go with them. I suppose this strange fairy cub will go with us, and when we stop to rest I’ll get him away from the others and near the edge of the water. You must come under the ice and break off the piece he is standing on, and float him far, far away toward the South until he melts.”
“Yes, yes! we’ll do it,” cried all the mermen jumping about and shouting. Then they turned to Sprawley. “Come,” they cried, “let’s have a game in the water before you go back.”
“That I will,” said Sprawley, and with that what should he do but strip off his bear-skin just as though it were a coat, and there he was, nothing more nor less than a merman who had been dressed up in an old skin, pretending to be a bear cub.
Sprawley and all the other mermen dived off into the water and began splashing and shrieking and pulling at each other and getting farther and farther away.
“All the same, I don’t think you’ll float me off,” said Teddy to himself.
Very quietly he crept to where the bear-skin lay on the ice, and taking out his knife he cut a long slit up the back of it. Then not waiting for the mermen to come back he hurried home again over the ice to the bears’ cave, and crawling in he laid himself down again between the sleeping cubs.
The little bears were beginning to stir themselves and the Mother Bear was yawning and stretching when Sprawley came sneaking into the cave again.
“Why! why!” said the Mother Bear, “where have you been?”
“I ain’t been anywhere,” said Sprawley. “I just thought I heard a sea-lion roaring and I went out to see.”
“Well, there’s no use your going to sleep again,” said the Father Bear, “for we have to go a long ways to-day, and it’s time we were getting ready to start now.”
With that he shuffled out of the cave, followed by the Mother Bear, and stood looking about him. Presently the cubs came out, too, still blinking with sleep.
“Oh, Mother!” cried Dumpy, “just look at Sprawley’s back!”
“Why, what’s the matter with it?” asked the Mother Bear.
“There ain’t anything the matter with it,” growled Sprawley, twisting his head round and trying to see.
“Yes, there is too!” cried Fatty. “Oh my! Sprawley’s splitting hisself all down the back.”
“Why! why!” cried the Father Bear, “what’s this?” He shuffled over and looked at Sprawley’s back, and then without a word he began to tear and pull at the bear-skin. In another minute he had it off, and there stood the merman shivering and blinking at them with his mouth open like a gasping fish.
“Oh dear! oh dear!” cried the Mother Bear, turning whiter than ever. “He’s not my cub after all,” and she sat down and began to whine and cry. But Father Bear gave a growl, and rising on his hind legs he fetched the merman a cuff that sent him tumbling head over heels across the ice.
Father Bear was after him, but before he could reach him the merman was up and running for the open strip of water in the distance. Father Bear chased him the whole way; sometimes he caught him and gave him a cuff that sent him flying, but at last the merman reached the water and dived into it. He must have had a sore head for days afterward, however.
When the Father Bear came back again, he was panting and growling. “There,” said he, “I guess that’s the last time any of the mermen will try to play their tricks on us. Come, come,” he went on, “it’s time we were off for our hunting.”
But the Mother Bear only shook her head. She had been doing nothing since she saw that Sprawley was an ice-merman but sit and rock herself backward and forward and whine. “I couldn’t go, my dear; I couldn’t indeed,” she said. “I’m all of a tremble now to think how that dreadful merman has been playing with Fatty and Dumpy day after day and I never knew it.”
“Then I’ll go by myself,” said Father Bear, gruffly, “and leave the children home with you. But you can go, Fairy,” he said to Teddy. “I’ll carry you on my back if you like, and maybe you’ll see me catch a young walrus. I suppose it was you who split him down the back, as the Counterpane Fairy brought you.”
“Yes, sir, it was,” said Teddy, timidly; “but I’m afraid I can’t go with you; I’m afraid I’m going back,” —for the bears, the fields of ice, the far-off green water, were all wavering and growing misty before his sight. Faintly he heard the voices of the bear cubs: “Owie! owie! don’t go away”; for they had grown fond of him the day before.
Then their voices died away. He was back in the old familiar room with the Counterpane Fairy perched upon his knees, and a bunch of snowdrops in the vase beside the bed. The door opened and his mother stood holding the knob in her hand and speaking to Hannah outside, and in that moment the Counterpane Fairy was gone.
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