With the falling of the beechnuts Tommy found a new and delicious food and stuffed himself. These days he roamed far and wide and explored all the country for miles around. He grew fat and, as the weather grew colder, his coat grew thicker. He learned much about his neighbors and their ways, and his sense of humor led him often to give them scares just for the fun of seeing them jump and run. With the coming of the first snow a strange desire to sleep stole over him. He found a great tree which had been torn up by the roots in some wind storm and about which smaller trees had fallen, making a great tangle. Under the upturned roots of the great tree was a hollow, and into this he scraped leaves and the branches of young balsams which he broke off. Thus he made a comfortable bed and with a sigh of contentment lay down to sleep. The snow fell and drifted over his bedroom, but he knew nothing of that. The cold winds, the bitter winds, swept through the wilderness, and the trees cracked with the cold, but Tommy slept on. Days slipped into weeks and weeks into months and still he slept. He would not waken until gentle spring melted the snow unless-- “Moo-oo!” Tommy’s eyes flew wide open. For a full minute he stared blinkeringly out over the Green Meadows. Then with a jump he came to his feet. “My gracious, it’s getting late, and those cows are wondering what has become of me!” he exclaimed. He hurried toward the pasture, breaking into a run, for it was milking-time. But his thoughts were far away. They were in the Great Woods. “I’ve been a bear!” he exclaimed triumphantly, “and I know just how he lives and feels, and why he loves the Great Woods so. Of all the creatures I’ve been since I found out about the old wishing-stone, I’d rather be Buster Bear than any one, next to being just what I am. He has more fun than any one I know of and nothing and nobody to fear but man.” Tommy’s brow clouded for an instant. “It’s a shame,” he blurted out, “that every living thing is afraid of man! And--and I guess it’s his own fault. They needn’t ever be afraid of me. I can tell them that! That old wishing-stone has taught me a lot, and I am never going to forget how it feels to be hunted and afraid all the time.” And Tommy never has. * * * * * Transcriber’s note: Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are mentioned. Punctuation has been made consistent. Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have been corrected.