  Father Thrift was busy carrying pine needles into his cave. Pine needles make a soft carpet. And the bare floor of the cave was so hard. At last he had enough and he sat down to rest. Just then he looked out of his cave and saw Shaggy Bear, half walking, half crawling toward him. “Why, whatever is the matter?” Father Thrift exclaimed in astonishment. “I am so sick I believe I shall die,” groaned the bear. The poor fellow’s face was pale and tears were running down his cheeks. “Oh, cheer up, cheer up!” cried Father Thrift briskly. “Why should you want to die?” “That’s it—I don’t!” returned the bear sorrowfully. “But I believe my time has come.” “Where do you feel the worst—in your stomach?” asked Father Thrift. “Yes,” replied Shaggy Bear. “That is where the trouble started.” “I thought so; I thought so,” said Father Thrift. “I wonder that you were not sick before. “Now, first of all, let me tell you that you are not going to die, not yet. But should you keep on eating as you have eaten in the past few weeks, you could never expect to be strong and healthy.” “Why?” asked the bear, brightening up suddenly. But Father Thrift did not answer his question. “I am going to suggest something for you to do, Shaggy,” he said. The bear looked puzzled but hopeful. “You won’t like it,” Father Thrift continued. “No one ever did. But it is the only way by which you can become well and strong again. “The very first time I saw you I knew that you were not eating the right kind of meals. “Why, bears are known to have such good “But you don’t feel that way. That is because you eat too much honey and not enough solid, nourishing food. “This makes you sick. And while perhaps you wouldn’t die from it, you would grow to be cross and disagreeable. Then no one would like you. Would that be any better?” The bear scratched his head. “But what am I to do?” he asked. “Stop eating sweets for three months,” advised Father Thrift. “Don’t you see that you spoil your appetite for good roots and berries by eating too much honey? “What, do you suppose, would become of boys and girls who ate nothing but cookies and candy, instead of milk and eggs, and meat and bread, and vegetables and fruit? “A little candy, when eaten after meals, seldom hurts anybody. When you are better you may have a little honey again, too. “Another thing. Besides eating and sleeping, what do you do?” “Nothing,” replied Shaggy Bear. “Hereafter you must spend some time each day working or walking or playing outdoors,” said Father Thrift. “You need exercise. “Don’t be afraid to run. That will fill your lungs with pure, fresh air and make your blood circulate more freely. “Eat only three meals a day and be regular. Do not eat between meals. Remember that the stomach works hard and needs rest as much as do your feet. “Eat slowly and chew your food well, and I promise that at the end of three months you will feel better than you have ever felt in your life.” The bear made a wry face at all this. For he liked honey about as much as he disliked exercise. “Mayn’t I eat some honey?” he asked pleadingly. Father Thrift looked at him a little sternly. “None for three months,” he said. Shaggy Bear was in earnest and at once promised to do as he was told. Then, as the bear rose to go, Father Thrift patted him on the back. “You mustn’t let this spoil your good times,” he said. “Only remember that nobody can be happy without good health.” It was a hard trial for the bear. Many, many times he was tempted to stuff himself with honey and then roll up in his cave and go to sleep. But each time he turned sadly away from temptation. And at the end of three months he was as sound and healthy as a bear could be. Then how grateful he was to Father Thrift for his good advice! And the queer little old man was happy to think that he had been able to help Shaggy so much. |
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