Now this was hard on the old lady. She could not go out hunting, or set
traps, or fish any more; and her partner, being mean, kept all the nice
morsels for herself. Mrs. Bear only got the leanest and poorest of the
meat, though there was plenty of the best. As my grandfather used to
say, Mrs. Bear might have fared better if she had used her eyes earlier.
One day, when she was sitting alone in the wigwam, Mrs. Bear began to
remember all she had ever heard about eyes, and it came into her head
that sometimes they were closed up in such a way that clever folk could
cut them open again. So she got her knife and sharpened it, and,
carefully cutting a little, saw the light of day. Then she was glad
indeed, and with a little more cutting found that she could see as
well as ever. And as good luck does nut come single, the very first
thing she beheld was an abundance of beautiful fat venison, fish, and
maple-sugar hung up overhead.
Dame Bear said nothing about her having recovered her eyesight. She
watched all the cooking going on, and saw the daintiest dinner, which
all went into one platter, and a very poor lot of bones and scraps
placed in another. Then, when she was called to eat, she simply said to
the other woman, who kept the best, "Well, you have done well for
yourself!"
The other saw that Mrs. Bear had recovered her sight.
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