"
Then he heard the gentle little crying voice again, and he knew it
was somebody in trouble, Curly did, and he called out:
"Who is there?"
"I am," sobbed a voice.
"And who are you?"
"My name is Ethel Rose," went on the voice, "and I am lost. Oh,
please help me. I'm so afraid!"
"Of course, I'll help you," spoke Curly bravely. "But why is your
name Ethel Rose?--that is two names."
"I don't know," answered the little girl, and then she stepped out
from the bushes where she had been crying, and the moon shone down
on her face and her ear-rings and dark hair, and Curly said:
"Now I know why they call you Ethel Rose."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because you are as pretty as a rose," and at that Ethel laughed.
"But come," went on Curly, "I'll show you the way to our bungalow,
and then Uncle Wiggily will take care of you."
"Oh, will he?" cried Ethel Rose, and so she walked along beside
Curly, who was carrying his pail of sour milk. And, all of a sudden,
when they were near the bungalow, there was a rustling in the
bushes, and out jumped a big black bear.
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