Cuffy Likes Baked Beans
UFFY 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
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
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.
The pot still stuck on Cuffy's nose.
All this time the mowing-machine kept up a
Cuffy thought that he had
better get out of sight. So he plunged into the forest
and started toward home. He felt very uncomfortable,
for he began to wonder whether he would ever get rid of
that troublesome pot. What puzzled him most was this
thought: How would he ever be able to eat again, with
that horrid thing over his nose? Cuffy was very fond of
riddles; but here was one that he did not like at all.
When he reached home his father and mother and Silkie
all laughed so hard at the sight of him that Cuffy
began to whimper. And a big tear rolled from each eye,
ran down the bean-pot, and dropped off the bottom of
And then, with just one tug Mr. Bear
bean-pot off his son's nose; and Cuffy was himself
He escaped a punishing, too, that time. And Mrs. Bear
was very glad to get such a nice iron pot. She had
wanted one for a long time.