"O, well then, his crying is some good, after all," returned Ethelwyn,
triumphantly. "That's a good deal nicer than killing the poor little
things."

"Humph!" said Hannah.

But Grandmother Van Stark had given orders that Johnny Bear--so named
from one of Ernest Thompson-Seton's illustrations, which Ethelwyn
thought he resembled--was to be treated tenderly and fed often, because
Ethelwyn loved him, and she herself loved to feed hungry people and
animals.

But one morning there was a great commotion over the discovery that a
mouse had been in Grandmother Van Stark's room.

"This is a chance for Johnny Bear to make a reputation as a mouser,"
said grandmother. "We will take him up-stairs to-night and he shall have
a chance to catch that mouse."

"O grandmother, I'm sure he will," said Ethelwyn, earnestly; so she
talked to him that afternoon about it.

It had rained in the afternoon,--a cold drizzly rain, so Nancy had
lighted a little snapping wood-fire in Grandmother Van Stark's
sitting-room. Into this opened the sleeping room in which was Ethelwyn's
small bed, and the big mahogany tester bed, where Grandmother Van Stark
had slept for more years than Ethelwyn could imagine.

Ethelwyn put Johnny Bear and his basket in front of the grate. It was