“What’s yer name?” the strange bear
asked.
Cuffy told him. And he learned that the strange
bear’s name was Peter, and that he lived around
on the other side of Blue Mountain, as many as ten
miles away.
“Aw—call me Pete,” the
new bear said, as Cuffy began to talk to him.
“They all calls me Pete.” He stuffed
his front paws into the pockets of his ragged trousers.
“Say, Cuff—what was yer doin’
up on that rock?”
“Playing!” Cuffy told him.
Pete gave a grunt. “That’s no way
ter play,” he said. “I’ll show
yer how ter have fun. Watch me!” He led
the way to the bank. And sitting down, he slid
and rolled all the way down the steep slope and landed
plump! in the deep pool.
Now, Cuffy was not going to have Pete think that he
couldn’t do that, too. Although he was
wearing his best trousers that day (for his mother
was mending his every-day pair), Cuffy sat down on
the top of the bank. And in another moment he
had slid and slipped down the bank and landed ker-splash!
in the water.
LEARNING TO BOX
For some time Cuffy Bear and his new friend Pete,
as he preferred to be called, continued to slide down
the bank of the brook into the water. They became
plastered with mud from head to foot. And Cuffy’s
best trousers had two big holes in them. But
Cuffy was having a splendid time.
“Let’s box, Cuff!” Pete exclaimed,
after a while.
“What’s that?” Cuffy asked.
He liked to be called “Cuff.” Nobody
had ever called him by that name before. He felt
quite grown up.
“I’ll show yer,” Pete said.
“Stand up in front of me.”
Cuffy stood up on his hind legs.
“Now, hold up yer paws—so.”
And Cuffy did as he was told.
“Now hit me!” Pete ordered.
And Cuffy struck out at his new friend. But to
his surprise he didn’t succeed in touching Pete
at all. Instead, he received a stinging slap
right on the end of his nose.
Cuffy didn’t like that. In fact, it made
him somewhat angry. And he struck out at Pete
once more. But Pete dodged; and he gave Cuffy
a good, hard blow in the eye. And while Cuffy
was holding onto his poor eye, Pete hit his other
eye. And then Cuffy couldn’t see a thing,
except bright spots that made him think of stars.
He tried not to cry. But a few tears would
go rolling down his cheeks. And he did not like
it at all when Pete began to laugh.
“Huh! Don’t be a cry-baby!”
Pete said. “Yer want ter learn ter box,
don’t yer?”
“Y-es!” Cuffy answered.
“Well—quit yer cryin’ and stand
up here, then,” Pete commanded.
So once more Cuffy straightened up and held his paws
in front of him. And when he thought Pete wasn’t
watching, Cuffy tried again to hit him. Again
Cuffy missed. His paw didn’t reach Pete
at all. But Pete gave him a terrible poke right
in the stomach, and Cuffy sat down quickly on the
ground and began to groan.
