Story after story fell from her lips; lunch time came--but there were no lunches. Miss Brown struggled on; words came slowly,--her lips and throat were dry,--she sipped a little water and struggled on. All sorts of possible and impossible adventures she related; she told strange facts of history with the wildest fancies of romance-makers; fairies and pirates, and queens and beggar girls, in one mad medley. She never in after years could recall anything that passed her lips in those terrible hours. Some of the smaller children, worn out with crying, fell asleep, and as the hours passed and twilight stole over the world, hope began to revive; surely the fathers of the village must come to seek their children. The bear still slept, but they dared not make much noise for fear of arousing him. Twilight deepened and night came on,--still no rescue. Men were out seeking them; all the village, in fact, but when they tried the schoolhouse door and could not open it, they concluded that school had been dismissed, and turned away to search the woods,--the constant terror of the village parents. Happily the little party of prisoners in the schoolroom did not know this, or they would have despaired. A search was started in the woods; lanterns flashed through all the paths and byways between the trees; men called, and women silently cried, but of course no trace of the lost was found. All night this was kept up, while, on the floor of the schoolroom, all but the two or three older ones, with the completely exhausted teacher, slept in what comfortless attitude they might. Towards morning a bright thought came to Miss Brown. "They must think we have left the schoolhouse," she thought; "and we must contrive to let them know where we are. When the bear wakes up he will be hungry again,"--with a shudder. Then the bright thought came, "Let us make a fire in the stove; the smoke will be a sign." There was no wood, of course, it being too warm for a fire; but there were some papers and, if need be, books--and it was the first breath of hope. "But is there a match in the house?" was the appalling thought that paralyzed her. She asked the boys. One thought he had some, and after emptying his pockets of the miscellaneous collection that usually fills a boy's pocket, succeeded in fishing out two worn and draggled-looking matches which looked doubtful about lighting. Miss Brown took them carefully, prepared some torn paper, and drew a match across the stove; it sputtered--and flashed--and went out. A cry of horror escaped her lips as, sheltering it in her hand, she tried the second. It burned and the paper was lighted, and in a moment the stove was in a glow. "Miss Brown," whispered one of the older scholars, "I've heard of bears being driven off by fire; we might light a stick and try it, if he wakes up," nodding towards the still sleeping Bruin. "Thank you--that is worth thinking of," said Miss Brown.