Out crawled the bear cub from his den, He got so caught up in his climbing spree
And listening to the birds sing prettily–
He didn't notice how he'd climbed so high
Up the pine tree, nearly to the sky.
He started crying through the forest wide:
"How will I ever get down from this height?
Or will I tumble in the bushes below?
I'm such a naughty cub, as well you know."
He cried and cried for an hour or two:
"Won't somebody please come help me through?"
The animals ran past without a care:
"We've got no time for all this fuss and despair."
A magpie flew by in a rush:
"Who needs the trouble, who needs the fuss,
To get you down from way up there?
Where would we find the strength to spare?"
Then came the little bear cub's mother dear,
And all the drama disappeared.
She brought him safely down from the tree
And took him home where he should be.
Children, this tale has a lesson true,
For naughty cubs—and perhaps for you:
Listen to mother, don't misbehave,
So you won't cry and need to be saved.
