so "comfy" that he stopped yowling at once and began to purr.

"How does middle night look, Nancy?" said Ethelwyn, as she lay in her
little brass bed, watching the dancing shadows on the wall.

"Like any other time, only stiller," replied Nancy. "Go to sleep now,
Miss Ethelwyn."

So Ethelwyn presently fell asleep and woke up with a little start just
as the clock was striking twelve.

Johnny Bear was stirring around uneasily in the other room. He had been
very still; his stomach was full, and his body warm, so that there
really was no possible excuse for making a noise. In fact, there was a
faint scratching in the closet that concentrated his attention, and
froze him into a statue of silence.

Presently he pounced, and a little shriek, piteous and faint, told the
story. Then Johnny Bear played ball with his victim, and ran up and
down the room as gaily as if he had never known what it was to cry.

But all at once something went wrong; a crackle in the grate sent a
glowing coal over the fender and on the rug, where it smoldered and
smoked, and then ran out a little tongue of flame. So Johnny Bear began
to mew again loudly and uneasily, the clock struck twelve, and Ethelwyn
awoke.

"Hush, Johnny Bear, dear," she said softly from the other room; "you'll
wake up grandmother."