An Introduction
Sitting on a stump of rock candy, Summer found a spectacled Bear who, while staring at an abacus he gingerly held, occasionally grazed at a few daffodils of licorice. Summer thought him to be a knowledgeable fellow and went closer to inquire more of her whereabouts. Yet as soon as the Bear caught sight of her approaching, he quickly leapt off his boulder and charged at her with the abacus ready in hand. At once, much to Summer’s confusion, he stared at her intently while adjusting the beads every so often (but not too often, which meant he was careful in what he measured).
“Excuse me,” interjected Summer trying not to get annoyed, “but may I ask what about me requires so much measuring. The only things I measure are my height and weight and age.”
“Precisely!” retorted the bear. “It never occurs to anyone but me to measure your mouth size. Consider it a complimentary service.”
Summer, thinking the notion to be quite absurd answered hotly, “I don’t ever see why you would go about that sort of thing to perfect strangers. And furthermore, I thought it was quite impolite to be remarking about strangers’ looks right in front of them.”
“And what did you mark in the first place if you never commented on their appearances nor did you record your findings in the first place? How can you remark on your discoveries if you never marked them down in the first place? No, I simply must record how large your mouth can get, especially if you want to be sociable at tea time.” Summer, although feeling hurt at the Bear’s rather unfriendly calculations, tried to imagine what one’s mouth size had to do with tea time.
“I don’t see what one has to do with the other, if you would care to inform me.” She replied with interest. The bear only smiled.
“Certainly.” He said cordially. He then proceeded to produce a teacup and spoon and started to mix in a spoonful of sugar. Afterwards he set the cup down in a scientifically cautious fashion on the boulder as if it were a delicate operation of the most critical caliber.
“Now see here.” he began while brandishing the spoon at Summer, “would you not take a spoonful of it to see if it were cool?”
“I suppose so.” Replied Summer, feeling rather engaged in the lecture.
“In order to do that, it is a well-known imperative that your mouth must be wide enough to drink it. Observe!” the Bear proceeded to take the spoon and lower it into the cup, only to draw it out with the concave side facing into the pool of tea, so Summer found it scarcely odd that the liquid ran quickly off the sides of it. Nevertheless, much to Summer’s surprise, the Bear tried as hard as he could to lift the dripping utensil to his mouth and let whatever drops of tea remained fall into his gaping maw!
“How silly to even think he was a bright fellow!” thought Summer to herself, for she didn’t want to offend the Bear who was having a difficult time about getting a satisfying amount of tea into his mouth at once.
“I suppose that might work well for an umbrella to use the outside. I think I’ll stick to the inside for my tea, thank you very much.” said Summer as politely as possible. The Bear, however, looked at her with a queer expression.
“Well you certainly know how to turn things all topsy-turvy, don’t you? Saying not only the inside of a spoon is better for drinking, but saying an umbrella should be turned to the outside? What ever would we do for swimming pools?” Not waiting for Summer to question the notion, he stiffed his mouth full of dough and produced an umbrella and spread the crown, placing it prominently on the ground. After searching for a minute or two in the tall sour-sweet grass that desperately wanted a gardener’s attention, he found his swizzle-straw hose and filled up the concavity of the umbrella with cider that would have been too tart for Summer’s taste, as she was a picky filly. When the umbrella was thoroughly filled, he proceeded to jump in and wildly splash about, making a terrible mess of things, sloshing about, sending the stuff soaking everything in sight, including Summer.
“Now do you see?” asked the ear with a rather smug look on his face. “How could one do without having a swimming pool on hot days such as this? If we were to tip it over, as you suggest,” he said while overturning the umbrella, sending the apple juice splashing everywhere, not helping to dry matters, “what would we do about cooling off?” Summer thought of supposing that an upright umbrella could keep you dry, but as they were both a sorry sight, dripping with cider, it seemed to be a rather weak argument, so she decided to let the matter drop. Besides, it was quite hard to make out what he was saying with a mouth full of dough anyway. The Bear, with a satisfied grin, laid out once more on the rock candy boulder.
“Now then, do you know any poetry to pass the time until the do-hickey rush?” he asked. Summer enjoyed a bit of poetry from time to time, however she really needed to find her book before it flew too far away, or else she feared she would never find it! But as soon as she made a step to trot out to the woods, the Bear called her back.
“Stay for a spell!” he cried. And then began, “The clouds were drifting…” Summer raised her hoof in interruption.
“Is the poem very long?” she asked.
“Not at all!” the Bear hollered and continued:
The clouds were drifting up around
A clearly cloudless sky.
The chef at home could fry no fruit
There were no fruit to fry
The mason and librarian
Trudged along the heath
To cut through pricky shrubs they would,
A sword, not dare to sheath
“I bleed and bled,” the mason said
“My clothes the shrubs do prize.”
His companion only nodded,
“I dearly sympathize.”
“Come, my dears!” he said to fawns
And pulled his camera out.
“Let’s gather for a photo shoot!”
The group yet pranced about.
“I think not.” the buck replied.
“We shan’t pose today.”
And yet the herd dropped dead because
He shot them anyway.
“What a terrible pony this librarian is!” exclaimed Summer, who couldn’t get a reaction from the Bear, for she now stood face to face with a pink mare with a cotton candy mane wearing a coronet of confectioner’s sugar, smiling so hugely, Summer was afraid the smile might wrap around her head and disconnect it from her neck!
“Hi!” squeaked the pink pony, whom Summer could only vaguely recognize.