The Sad Tale of Three Bears

She had been following that tell-tale trail all morning. Surely, this time she would find the culprits. All those over-turned garbage cans, clothes stolen off clotheslines, food swiped from picnic baskets when no one was looking–it all had to stop and she was just the sleuth who could stop it. Looking down at the ground, she saw a partial footprint. For a moment, her hair stood on end. That footprint was big! Could she be dealing with Bigfoot?

She followed the trail into the forest, right to a neat little house, smoke rising from the chimney. Tiptoeing to the front door, she gave it a small push. It swung open! Timidly, she stepped inside and looked around.

This room appeared to be the front room. Using deductive reasoning, she figured out that she was dealing with three thieves. Three chairs sat in front of a television set, all in different sizes. Hmm. She climbed up in the first chair, but it was too high. The second chair was–well, it was a rocking chair, and too low, but that third chair. Just right! Ah-h. She was about to settle comfortably into it when it cracked and crashed. Crumpled!

She scrambled onto her feet. Had no one heard the noise? She wandered into the kitchen, following her nose. Three bowls of soup sat on the table. 

After her long walk, she felt hungry. Tasting the first bowl, she fanned her mouth, skipped around the floor and yelled, “Ow! Oh! Hot!” When she sipped a spoonful of the second bowl of soup, she nearly gagged. Cold! Gingerly, she tried the third bowl. Hmm. Just right. Turning it up, she greedily gulped it.

But, where was the bad band of bandits? Were they hiding upstairs? Well, they wouldn’t escape the mighty arm of the law or the Golden-Haired Sleuth, as she was called. Stealthily, she climbed up and looked around.

Nope! No culprits here, only two rooms and three beds. The first bed in room number one felt hard. Probably the person who slept here had a bad back and demanded a firm foundation. Next to this bed was another bed with a flowery, frilly flounce. When she lay down on it, she almost disappeared in the softness of feathers.

Looking first left, then right, she tiptoed to the second bedroom and found a small bed. It looked so inviting, she lay down for just a minute. Wow! Was that a comfortable mattress or what? The walk through the forest had been long, that nasty fall from the spindly chair downstairs was upsetting, and the warm bowl of soup all caught up with her. She was suddenly sleepy. She’d just close her eyes a bit.

She awoke with a start. Hot breath fanned her cheek. Squinty, mean, uncivilized eyes stared at her and she heard–oh, heavens–she heard a  growl. Bouncing from bed, she raced to the window, plunged right through and, thanks to her aerobic training and amazing gymnastic skills, landed on her feet. Her pulse pounding, she dashed toward home.

“Who was that little golden-haired intruder?” Papa Bear asked.

Mama Bear shrugged. “Beats me. I wonder if her parents never warned her about going into someone’s house when they weren’t home?”

“I don’t know who she was,” Baby Bear said, sniffling, “but she broke my chair and ate my soup and she didn’t even say she was sorry.”


Manos Mysteries

 

 

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