So Cuffy Bear began to nose about among the bushes.
And presently he discovered, hidden away beneath a
clump of ferns, a basket of delicious food. It
was the haymakers’ lunch that Cuffy had found.
And he lost no time. He began to eat as fast
as he could. Yes—I am very sorry to
say that Cuffy actually gobbled Farmer Green’s
lunch. And he was so greedy that a strange thing
happened to him.
CUFFY LIKES BAKED BEANS
Cuffy Bear found many good things in Farmer Green’s
lunch basket. He bolted all the bread-and-butter,
and the doughnuts; and he found the custard pie to
be about as enjoyable as any dainty he had ever tasted.
And then, with his little black face all smeared with
streaks of yellow custard, Cuffy began to poke a small
iron pot which stood in one corner of the big basket.
Presently the pot tipped over, its cover fell off,
and soon Cuffy was devouring the daintiest dish of
all! Baked beans! Of course, he didn’t
know the name of those delicious, brown, mealy kernels.
But that made no difference at all to Cuffy. So
long as he liked what he was eating the name of it
never troubled him. The only thing that annoyed
Cuffy now was that the pot was not bigger. There
were still a few beans which clung to the bottom;
and try as he would, Cuffy could not reach them, even
with his tongue.
He was sitting on the ground, with the pot between
his legs, and his nose stuck into it as far as Cuffy
could get it. But still he could not reach those
beans in the bottom. And pretty soon Cuffy began
to lose his temper. He stood up and gave a good,
hard push against the ground. And so he managed
to squeeze his nose a little further into the bean-pot.
And now, to his huge delight, he could just reach the
bottom of the pot with his long under-lip. In
a twinkling Cuffy had all the beans in his mouth.
And he would have grinned—he felt so happy—if
his nose hadn’t been wedged so tightly into
the pot that he couldn’t even smile.
Since there were no more beans to be had out of that
pot, Cuffy lifted his head. And to his great
astonishment the bean-pot came right up off the ground
too, almost as if it were alive. It startled Cuffy,
until he saw that it was he who lifted the pot, on
his own nose.
He seized the bean-pot and pulled. But his paws
were so greasy with butter that he couldn’t
get a good grip on it. The pot still stuck on
his nose as fast as ever.
Cuffy grunted. He couldn’t really have
said anything, with his mouth deep in the iron pot.
So he just grunted in a pouting sort of way; and then
he gave the pot a sharp rap against a rock. That
hurt his nose. And this time he growled—as
well as he could. But all his grunting and growling
didn’t frighten the bean-pot the slightest bit.
There it stayed, perched on his nose just as if it
would never come off.
