The bear looked sheepish. His startled eyes were pleading now. He hung his head as he backed away. Sancho Wing followed closely scolding ever more abusively. The tiny finch seemed to tower with rage as he bullied the frightened beast, who stood six feet six in his bare hind paws while the finch was but a few inches high. When they reached the hall the big fellow dropped to all fours and ran. Returning to the big table Sancho Wing saw a hurt look in Santa Claus’ face and readily guessed the cause. “Forgive me for making a scene,” pleaded the little bird. “The bear is very sensitive,” said Santa Claus seriously. “And on the whole I think he is rather well behaved for a bear.” “I am sure I would like the bear much better if I did not know him so well,” said Sancho Wing. “What? Do you know him?” asked Santa Claus. There was an awkward pause. Sancho did not want to tell on the bear, for like himself he was Santa Claus’ guest. “I know him distantly,” said Sancho—“just a growling acquaintance. He may have changed since I saw him last. Maybe I shall like him better now.” “I am sure you will,” said Santa Claus kindly, as they drew their chairs up to the fire and prepared to spend a cozy evening. [Illustration] [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER XIV SNYTHERGEN’S TROUBLES The “Three Wise Men” and Santa Claus were sitting up very late around a coal fire in the enormous grate. Santa Claus would have preferred a log, had not delicacy of feeling made him avoid burning wood in Snythergen’s presence. Sancho was perched on the back of the chair Squeaky had curled up in; and Snythergen sat tailor fashion on the floor. Santa Claus nestled in the depths of his great easy chair. There was no light save the flicker of the fire. “I don’t know when I have had such an enjoyable evening,” said Santa Claus, “and I am sure it is past all our bedtimes.” “Oh, no,” said Squeaky, “we got into the habit of late hours on account of the bear.” “What bear?” said Santa Claus, in surprise. “Oh,” said Sancho on his guard, “there was one prowling about in the forest where we lived.” “You needn’t have been afraid if you had provided him with food,” said Santa Claus. “So we found,” said Snythergen feelingly. “I have been thinking,” said Santa Claus, “that we make a cozy little group together. I would be glad to have you stay here and live with me.” “Splendid,” cried Snythergen. “This is the only comfortable house I ever saw. The architect had the good sense to make the ceilings high enough.” “There is a bedroom upstairs, too, just right for you,” said Santa Claus, “and you may all occupy it together if you will promise to go to bed and not talk.” “Oh, Santa Claus,” cried Snythergen delighted, “you are too good!” “And we’ll be polite to the bear,” said Squeaky. “Maybe you won’t like it here as well as you think,” said Santa Claus. “I shall expect you to do some work.” “We don’t mind that,” said Sancho Wing. “Snythergen built a house and table!”