Эльза Хольмлунд Минарик: Little Bear and Other Stories / Маленький медвежонок и другие рассказы. 3-4 классы

“Who can it be,” said Owl, “knocking at my door on a night like this?”

Owl opened the door. No one was there. Only the snow and the cold.

“The poor old winter is knocking at my door,” said Owl. “Maybe it wants to sit by the fire. Well, I will be kind and let the winter come in.”

Owl opened the door very wide.

“Come in, Winter,” said Owl. “Come in and warm yourself.”

Winter came into the house. It came in very fast. A cold wind pushed Owl to the wall.

Winter ran around the room. It blew out the fire in the fireplace.

The snow covered the stairs and the hallway.

“Winter!” cried Owl. “You are my guest. This is not the way to behave!”

But Winter did not listen. It frosted the windows. It turned the pea soup into green ice.

Winter went to all the rooms of Owl’s house. Soon everything was covered with snow.

“You must go, Winter!” shouted Owl. “Go away, now!”

The wind blew around and around. Then Winter went out and slammed the front door. “Good-bye,” cried Owl, “and do not come back!”

Owl made a new fire in the fireplace. The room became warm again.

The snow melted. The green ice turned into the pea soup again.

Owl sat down in his chair and finished his supper.

Owl was in bed. “It is time to go to sleep,” he said. Then Owl saw two bumps under his blanket at the end of his bed.

“What are those strange bumps?” asked Owl.

Owl lifted the blanket. He looked into the bed. He saw only darkness.

Owl went to sleep, but he could not.

“What if those two strange bumps become bigger and bigger when I am asleep?” said Owl. “That will not be pleasant.”

Owl moved his right foot up and down. The bump on the right moved up and down.

“One of those bumps is moving!” cried Owl.

Owl moved his left foot up and down. The bump on the left moved up and down.

“The other bump is moving!” cried Owl.

Owl pulled the blanket off his bed. The bumps were not there.

All Owl saw at the end of the bed were his two feet.

“But now I am cold,” said Owl. “I will cover myself with the blankets again.”

When he did, he saw the two bumps again.

“The bumps are back!” shouted Owl. “Bumps, bumps, bumps! I will never sleep tonight!”

Owl jumped up and down on his bed.

“Where are you? What are you?” he cried.

With a crash the bed broke.

Owl ran down the stairs. He sat in his chair by the fire.

“Let those two strange bumps sit on my bed,” said Owl. “Let them grow as big as they wish. I will sleep here where I am safe.”

And that is what he did.

Owl took the kettle out of the cupboard.

“Tonight I will make tear-water tea,” he said.

He put the kettle on his lap. “Now,” said Owl, “I will begin.”

Owl sat very still. He began to think of things that were sad.

“Chairs with broken legs,” said Owl. His eyes began to water.

“Songs that cannot be sung,” said Owl, “because the words are forgotten.”

Owl began to cry. A big tear rolled down his face and dropped into the kettle.

“Spoons and forks that are lost,” said Owl.

More tears dropped into the kettle.

“Books that cannot be read,” said Owl, “because some pages are lost.”

“Clocks that are broken,” said Owl, “because no one could fix them.”

Owl was crying. Many big tears dropped into the kettle.

“Mornings nobody saw because everybody was sleeping,” cried Owl.

“Vegetables left on a plate,” he cried, “because no one wanted to eat them. And pencils that are too short to use.”

Owl thought about many other sad things. He cried and cried.

Soon the kettle was filled with tears.

“There,” said Owl. “That is enough!”

Owl stopped crying. He put the kettle on the stove to boil for tea.

Owl felt happy when he filled his cup with tea.

“It is a little salty,” he said, “but tear-water tea is always very good.”

Owl’s house had an upstairs and a downstairs.

There were twenty stairs between them.

Sometimes Owl was upstairs in his bedroom.

Other times Owl was downstairs in his living room.

When Owl was downstairs, he said, “I wonder how my upstairs is?”

When Owl was upstairs, he said, “I wonder how my downstairs is? I always miss one place or the other. I want to be upstairs and downstairs at the same time.”

“Maybe if I run very very fast, I can be in both places at the same time,” said Owl.

Owl ran up the stairs. “I am up,” he said.

Owl ran down the stairs. “I am down,” he said.

Owl ran up and down the stairs faster and faster.

“Owl!” he cried. “Are you downstairs?”

There was no answer.

“No,” said Owl. “I am not downstairs because I am upstairs. I am not running fast enough.”

“Owl!” he shouted again. “Are you upstairs?”

There was no answer.

“No,” said Owl. “I am not upstairs because I am downstairs. I must run faster.”

“Faster, faster, faster!” cried Owl.

Owl ran upstairs and downstairs all evening.

But he could not be in both places at the same time.

“When I am up,” said Owl, “I am not down. When I am down, I am not up. All I am is very tired!”

Owl sat down to rest. He sat on the tenth step because it was a place that was right in the middle.

One night Owl went to the seashore.

He sat on a big rock and looked at the waves. Everything was dark.

Then the moon went up over the sea.

Owl watched the moon. It went higher and higher into the sky.

Soon the whole, round moon was shining.

Owl sat on the rock and looked at the moon for a long time.

“If I am looking at you, moon, then you must be looking at me. We must be very good friends.”

The moon did not answer, but Owl said, “I will come back and see you again, moon. But now I must go home.”

Owl walked back home. He looked at the sky.

The moon was still there. It was following him.

“No, no, moon,” said Owl. “It is kind of you to light my way. But you must stay over the sea where you look so fine.”

Owl walked a little farther. He looked at the sky again.

There was the moon following him.

“Dear moon,” said Owl, “you really must not come home with me. My house is small. You would not fit in it. And I have nothing to give you for supper.”

Owl walked and walked. The moon followed him over the tops of the trees.

“Moon,” said Owl, “I think that you do not hear me.”

Owl climbed to the top of a hill. He shouted loudly, “Good-bye, moon!”

The moon went behind some clouds. Owl looked and looked. The moon was gone.

“It is always a little sad to say good-bye to a friend,” said Owl.

Owl came home. He put on his pajamas and went to bed.

The room was very dark. Owl was still feeling sad.

Suddenly, silver light filled Owl’s bedroom. Owl looked out of the window.

The moon came from behind the clouds.

“Moon, you followed me all the way home! What a good, round friend you are!” said Owl.

Then Owl put his head on the pillow and closed his eyes.

The moon was shining through the window.

Owl did not feel sad.

A mouse once found a wishing well.