<TITLE>02. Par 4-6</TITLE>L-4 And so, I was way up in New Hampshire one time, and I just love to fish, trout fish especially, fly fish. And I'd been up there one day, and I was--had me a little tent, and I'd been back about, oh, three days, I guess, packed back in a little old pup tent. It was long early in the spring and these big brook trout was just hitting fine.
So one morning I'd left along about day break, and went way down along the willows; and I had a little old hand axe, chopping away so I wouldn't get my fly lost. And them coachman are not so easy to get way back up there, you know. So I was a fishing along. And I come back along about nine o'clock, and I said, "Well, I guess I'll go back now and cook my pancakes." I'm not a very good cook, but you have to put up with it, you know.

L-5 So when I got back up to the tent, why, where the tent was, it was one wreck. There was an old mother bear and her two cubs had got in there, and they had tore that tent to pieces. It just isn't what they eat; it's just what they tear up. And they just... If they'd hit a stove pipe, they'd just mash it up just for meanness, you know, just to hear it break.
So I... When I come up, the old mother bear she scented me right quick and she run off. And she cooed to her cubs, and one little cub run off with her. Everything was laying flat on the ground. And the old mother bear run off a little piece, and she kinda set down and kept cooing to the other cub. And the little fellow wouldn't--wouldn't move. He was setting with his back to me, all humped up, like this. And I walked up a little closer to see what the little fellow was. I didn't want to get too close 'cause old mother will scratch you, you know, about them cubs. So...
And I had an old beat up, broken up .22 rifle somewhere in there, but I wouldn't want to shoot her anyhow and leave two orphans in the woods. So I wanted... And there wasn't a tree. She could climb better than I could, so I couldn't get out of her way, so I didn't want to get her angry.

L-6 So I kept walking around. I wondered what was the matter with that little old bear. He wasn't moving; he just set there. I could see he was working his paw some way. And I didn't know what he had done.
So I always take me up, you know, a gallon bucket, or half a gallon bucket, rather, full of honey. You know it takes honey to keep Baptist straightened out anyhow, you know. So... And when I cook pancakes, I--I really pull my Baptist; I don't sprinkle them; I baptize them, brother. I really pour it on them; I like plenty of honey on them.
So I had me a big old can full of these--this honey setting there. And this little fellow (bears love honey so much), he had--he'd got into that. He'd pried the lid off of it. He had it all hugged up in his little arm, like this. He'd stick his little paw down in the bucket, and licking, and licking. And I tell you, when he turned around and looked at me, he couldn't open his eyes, it was stuck so full, you know. And he was honey from the top of his head down his little belly, plumb to his feet, sopping that bucket with his paw, licking like that.
He looked around at me, and I thought, "Boy, there's no condemnation to you as long as your licking honey," you know. I thought, "If that isn't just like a good old fashion camp day meeting, old God sent Pentecostal meeting. No condemnation to them that's licking honey; they just lick on."
So after while, after he got his little belly full, why, he dropped the bucket. And his mother kept cooing to him. And you know what happened? When he got over there, his mother and little brother started licking him, 'cause he had honey on him.


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