Baby Bear loved the birds, so Mother Bear was not much surprised when Baby Bear dropped his wee porridge spoon at the breakfast table, and said in a shrill voice:

"Let's invite all the birds to a party!"

"We will give the party to-morrow," said Mother Bear. "But what shall we offer the birds to eat?"

"Blackberries and honey," replied Father Bear.

"Once I saw a robin eat a wiggly worm," said Baby Bear.

"I'll tell you what we'd better do, Father Bear," said Mother Bear. "You take a walk around the edge of the woods and find out what the birds like best to eat."

Father Bear set out gayly enough, but he came back looking sad and discouraged.

"We can't have the party!" he said. "I have been asking questions, and what do you suppose I have learned? The robins eat worms, and they eat so many that we couldn't dig enough to satisfy one robin!"

"Then suppose we give a little party, and invite only catbirds," said Mother Bear.

"Catbirds!" exclaimed Father Bear, in a big, gruff voice. "Catbirds eat grasshoppers—thirty at a time! You can't buy jumping grasshoppers by the quart."

"How about the kingbirds?" questioned Mother Bear.

"Kingbirds must have gadflies," grumbled Father Bear, "gadflies by the peck!"

"How about the swallows?" asked Mother Bear, who saw Baby Bear winking hard to keep back the tears.

"Swallows must have flies!" roared Father Bear, for he was all out of patience. "And spotted squash beetles! I'd look well stooping over in our garden five or six hours trying to catch squash beetles for company!"

"We might ask chickadees," ventured Mother Bear. She saw two big tears rolling down Baby Bear's cheeks, so she mentioned chickadees. "They like crumbs."

"One chickadee," said Father Bear, in gentler tones, "would much prefer five thousand five hundred and fifty cankerworm eggs in a day. We can't invite chickadees!"

"Cedar birds?" murmured Mother Bear.

"Cedar birds dine on caterpillars. We could fill the washtubs, I suppose, and pass them round!

"Blackbirds spend half their lives chasing insects and eating weed seeds. The phoebe bird works for the farmers. She eats weevils that spoil wheat and peas and beans. The wood pewees eat flies. Woodpeckers and meadow larks, hawks, and all owls have strange appetites!"

Baby Bear covered his face, and wailed.

This would be a sad story if it ended here, but it does not.

The birds loved Baby Bear, and when they found out why he cried so loud, they came in flocks to comfort him.

After that, when Baby Bear awoke, he always saw hundreds of birds in the garden, searching for bugs, worms, and grasshoppers.

And that is the reason why the Three Bears have such a wonderful garden.