s head at this, and shuffled around and changed his seat.
Says he: 'No, it's not so bad as all that, but I want to ask you plump
and plain, if it's a fair question, how you comb your hair so it will
stay nice?'

"I looked at him and shook my head. Says I, 'Brother Bear, I don't
comb my hair.'

"He was so much surprised that he opened his mouth, and his tongue
hung out on one side--a big, red tongue that had known the taste of
innocent blood."

"That's the truth!" exclaimed Mrs. Meadows.

Sweetest Susan shuddered.

"Says he, 'Brother Rabbit, if you don't comb your hair, how in the
wide world do you keep it so smooth?'"

"Says I, 'Easy enough. Every morning my old woman takes the axe and
chops my head off--'"

"Oh!" cried Sweetest Susan.

"'Takes the axe and chops off my head,'" Mr. Rabbit continued, as
solemn as a judge, "'and carries it out in the yard, where she can
have light to see and room to work, and then she combs it and combs it
until every kink comes straight and every hair is in its place. Then
she brings my head back, puts it where it belongs, and there it
is--all combed.'

"Brother Bear seemed to be very much astonished. Says he, 'Doesn't it
hurt, Brother Rabbit?'

"Says I, 'Hurt who? I'm no chicken.'

"Says he, 'Doesn't it bleed?'

"Says I, 'No more than enough to make my appetite good.'"

Mr. Rabbit paused and looked up at the ripples of light and shade that
were chasing each other across the sky in Mr. Thimblefinger's queer
country. Then he looked at the children.

"The upshot of it was," he continued, "that Brother Bear went home and
told Mrs. Bear how I had my head combed every day. Woman-like, she
wanted to try it at once; so Brother Bear laid his head on a log of
wood, and Mrs. Bear got the axe and raised it high in the air. Brother
Bear had just time to squall out, 'Cut it off easy, old woman!' when
the axe fell on his neck, and there he was!"

"Oh, did it kill him?" cried Sweetest Susan.

"That's what the neighbors said," replied Mr. Rabbit placidly.

Sweetest Susan didn't seem to be at all pleased. Seeing this, Mrs.
Meadows exclaimed:--

"To think of the poor little pigs Brother Bear killed and ate!"

"Yes," said Mr. Rabbit, "and the lambs!"

"Worse than that!" cried Mr. Thimblefinger. "Think of the little
children he devoured! Think of it!"

"I'm glad he had his head cut off," said Buster John heartily.

"Me too, honey," assented Drusilla.

XII.

A SINGING-M