"I wonder if I am back at the North Pole," he thought. "Has that Eskimo
boy caught me again, and is he taking me to his igloo? Are these
Northern Lights that flash in front of me?"

But they were not, though they came from the same cause--electricity.
The glare that dazzled the eyes of the Plush Bear came from the electric
lights of a large store, where he was being unpacked, together with
other toys. There was a rustle of paper as the Plush Bear was unwrapped,
and then a voice cried:

"Oh, Father, see what a fine toy! And it's the kind you wind up! Oh, I
shall love this Plush Bear!"

"Do not squeeze him too tightly, Angelina," said a white-haired and
white-whiskered old man, who was helping two women lift the toys out of
the big box in which they had come. "You may break some of the wheels or
springs."

"Oh, I shan't hug him too tightly," said Angelina, laughing. "But he is
certainly a lovely Plush Bear."

"Yes, he is very nice," said the old gentleman. "What have you,
Geraldine?" he asked his other daughter.

"An Elephant," was the answer. "But he doesn't wind up. However, he will
look well in the window."

"Yes," said the old man, "to-morrow we will decorate the show windows
for the Christmas trade. The Plush Bear must surely stand in the window.