IN A moment everything had become quiet. Sally sat up in bed rubbing her eyes and quite unable to believe the evidence of her own senses. For how could a rational little girl be expected to believe that a Teddy bear was really standing beside her bed, bowing to her politely and pausing, between bows, to take large bites out of a pink wafer that he held daintily in one paw?

“Good evening,” said he; and “Good evening,” quoth Sally, almost too much astonished to speak. Indeed she had to pinch herself quite hard in order to convince herself that she was really wide awake and not sound asleep and dreaming.

“Do not be surprised,” said the Teddy bear, and Sally smiled involuntarily at the pomposity of his manner. “The scene that you have just witnessed is not at all an unusual one. In fact, I, myself, am rather astonished that after all the years you have been playing with toys you never discovered the fact that they always waken at night. Anyway why shouldn’t they?” and then as Sally did not make any reply, being far too much amazed to do so, he added somewhat irritably, “Why not? Why not?”

“Why not?” repeated Sally mechanically. She was beginning to realize that she was really awake and that the Teddy bear was really carrying on a conversation with her. And, moreover, that the Teddy bear had a very good opinion of himself, which made her extremely anxious not to offend him. There was a short silence, during which the Teddy bear finished his biscuit and, having daintily shaken a few stray crumbs from his fur, sat quietly regarding the little girl with his head tilted reflectively to one side and a rather inquiring expression in his bright black eyes. He looked so comical in his pink striped pajamas that she could not resist indulging in a smile, which, however, she quickly hid in the pillow, being dreadfully afraid that the queer little fellow would think she was making fun of him.

Presently she said, rather timidly, “If you please, would you mind telling me how old you are?”

“According to your point of view,” replied the bear reflectively, “I am about one month, twelve days and fifteen hours old.” Here Sally interrupted him to remark that he was very well developed for his age, but the hear frowned so dreadfully that she quickly subsided again into the pillow.

“If you ask a fellow a question you should give him a chance to answer it,” he observed sulkily. And then, as Sally politely remarked that she hoped he would excuse her, he went on.

“According to my own point of view, which is undoubtedly the correct one, I have no age at all, and never shall have any.” Then, as Sally uttered a little exclamation of protest, he added hurriedly:

“Toys never grow up and so really never grow older. They never grow in any other way whatever, consequently why should they ever become any age at all? How perfectly absurd to suppose that they do!”

He ended with a contemptuous sniff, which so tickled his sharp black nose that he fell into a fit of sneezing that lasted for several minutes.

The child, rather alarmed, hastened to pat him on the back, and he finally emerged from the attack none the worse and remarked that probably some of the crumbs had gone the wrong way.

Sally, who all the time had been wondering if he were red in the face under his fur, longed to remark that the crumbs must have gone the wrong way with a vengeance if they had gone up his nose. However, she rather feared provoking the Teddy bear, and remarked, by way of continuing the conversation:

“Oh, of course, you don’t grow any bigger. That is because you are just stuffed. There isn’t anything in you to grow.”

Somehow the child found arguing with the Teddy bear rather difficult. And then he was so comical that in spite of his obstinacy it was impossible to be offended with him.

“No, thank fortune, we don’t grow any bigger,” retorted the Teddy bear, with some asperity. “Only live things, like yourself, for example, do that. Now supposing I were a real, live bear, what size would I be by this time? If you were a doll, you would not be obliged to grow up either. But as you are only a girl of course you will have to.”

The little girl immediately thought of a dozen arguments in favor of growing up; but not wishing to put the bear in a bad humor she said quickly:

“I knew a boy once who talked just as you do. He never wanted to grow up and so he ran away and lived with the fairies. His name was Peter Pan. At least her name was.”

“Fairies! What are fairies?” exclaimed the bear. And then, before Sally had time to answer, demanded severely, “How can his name be her name?”

Now Sally was really a very sweet tempered little girl, but to be constantly contradicted and corrected by a stuffed Teddy bear was decidedly getting on her nerves. So she replied quite sharply, “Oh, you see it was a play, and the boy, Peter Pan, was really a girl. I think I should like to call you Peter Pan; that is if you haven’t any other name,” she added quickly.

“The name on my tag was Teddy, but it really doesn’t matter, as I have never been christened,” returned the Teddy bear. “Really Peter Pan is a pretty name, and decidedly more appropriate for me. Only I think the latter part of it rather reminds one of cake. And, by the way, couldn’t you hunt up some names for my wife and the cubs? You see we were all named Teddy—Teddy bears. But it seems rather mixed up, don’t you know, especially when there are so many of us.” Sally nodded acquiescently.

“To be sure, when you call for Teddy, you never know whether your wife or the baby cub will answer. Besides which, Teddy is not at all an appropriate name for a lady. And as for all being named alike, why, it is just like a lot of fractions reduced to a common denominator. It will never do in the world,” she said.

Now Peter Pan had not the remotest idea in the world as to what fractions or common denominators were, but unwilling to betray his ignorance he said nothing, while Sally finally discovered a way out of the difficulty by suggesting that they should consult her Pretty Name Dictionary, an idea which Peter Pan declared to be a fine one.

Finally it was decided that the twins should be called Tom and Jerry, the baby cub Little Breeches, as he wore a pair of the most fascinating blue overalls, and Mrs. Peter Pan Wendy, that being the name of the little girl in the Peter Pan play, provided, of course, that she had no preferences in any other direction.

By this time the grandfather’s clock in the lower hall began to strike three and as Sally was beginning to look very sleepy Peter Pan said good night. It was really good morning, so sliding from the bed he scampered off to inform his family of all that had happened. And he was just in the nick of time, for his wife was dying of curiosity and certainly could not have restrained herself for another moment from joining her husband and Sally and finding out what it was all about.

Sally cuddled down among her pillows and at once fell asleep; and as her thoughts trailed off to dreamland she seemed still to hear a querulous little voice drawling out rather peevishly, “Why not? Why not?” Meantime, the question of names was being discussed by the bear family. Mamma bear liked them all except the one intended for herself. She said it was altogether too suggestive of a rising storm, an idea with which her husband felt obliged to concur. She was warmly in favor of Bedelia, and as there was no very good reason to object, Bedelia it was and so remained to the end of the chapter.