It seemed an age to Maida, and it must have been several hours before she saw her two friends. They were standing in the midst of a field of ice, and poor Jack-in-the-Box hung limp and dejected on a block of ice, while the Candy Kid seemed to be trying to help him. She could see nothing of the Bear. “Stop, stop!” she called to Kankakee; but either he did not hear or he was in too great a hurry, for he only snapped his long dog whip and howled “Mush!” to the dogs. When an Eskimo says “Mush” to his dogs, he means what you mean when you say, “Get up!” to pony. Well, Maida couldn’t bear to see her friends left alone, so she rolled off the sledge into a soft snow-bank, and it didn’t hurt her a bit. Then while she was picking herself up and digging the snow out of her eyes, all the sledges rushed by her without stopping. She ran quickly to the Candy Kid. “Oh, dear, dear,” she sobbed, “what is the matter with him?” “He’s run down,” replied the Candy Kid. “Well, why don’t you wind him up?” retorted Maida angrily, stamping her foot. “Can’t do it,” said the Candy Kid, “we’ve lost the key.” Then overcome by his feelings the Candy Kid sat down and began to cry at the top of his voice. Which was perfectly natural. A huge white mound, which Maida had mistaken for a snow-bank, reared up beside the Candy Kid, and Maida stepped back in surprise. It was the Bear. Maida was very uneasy. He hadn’t eaten the Candy Kid. Well, perhaps he didn’t care for sweets, and of course he couldn’t eat an overgrown alarm-clock like Jack-in-the-Box, but she had heard that bears like little girls as well as little girls like chocolate creams, and she felt a strong desire to run. But the Bear didn’t attack her. No indeed, he wasn’t that kind of a Bear. He laid his head on the shoulder of the Candy Kid and lifted up his voice and wept, which was very nice of him. Maida was so overcome by his grief she ran to him and wiped his eyes with her handkerchief. Then they all had a good cry together. At last the Bear put his arm about Maida (I call it his arm, though it was really his foreleg), and patted her on the shoulder. So she felt better, and stopped crying. “By the way,” said Maida to the Candy Kid, “I’ve never been properly introduced to the Bear. Do you mind making us acquainted?” So the Candy Kid presented the Bear, who made a lovely bow,--really, for a Polar Bear who had never been in any sort of society, he was very, very polite. And then Maida found the key. Wasn’t that lovely? Ah, I tell you, it didn’t take her long to wind up Jack-in-the-Box, and how the four of them did laugh and cry and dance about, all through pure happiness. “This habit of mine is very distressing,” observed Jack-in-the-Box to Maida. “Did you ever start to talk or go somewhere and all of a sudden feel your mainspring give out and your wheels stop turning?” “No, I never did,” replied Maida, “but it must be--dreadful.” “And now, what are we going to do?” said the Candy Kid.