Erika’s Stories #4

Posted by Erika Bear on
Category: Erika's Stories37 Comments

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Hello, my name is Erika and I have been here at Jammy Toast since 2012. I used to live with a little girl in Kings Lynn where I used to lie around her bedroom all day, enjoying the peace and quiet and listening to her mummy tell us stories. Then one day her mummy came in and took me to a car-boot sale. I had no idea what was happening but they didn’t want me anymore. A man named Roy bought me for £1 and took me home promising that things would work out for me. He was right because he sent me here to join Davidd and all the bears. I have been asking for ages if I can share the stories I remember from living with the little girl with you all and that is what I write about. So, here comes another one

Androclus And The Lion

In olden days of Rome there was once a poor slave whose name was Androclus. His master was a cruel man, and so unkind to him that at last Androclus ran away. He hid himself in a wild wood for many days; but there was no food to be found, and he grew so weak and sick that he thought he should die. So one day he crept into a cave and lay down, and soon he was fast asleep.

After a while a great noise woke him up. A lion had come into the cave, and was roaring loudly. Androclus was very much afraid, for he felt sure that the beast would kill him. Soon, however, he saw that the lion was not angry, but that he limped as though his foot hurt him.

Androclus grew so bold that he took hold of the lion’s lame paw to see what the matter was. The lion stood quite still, and rubbed his head against the man’s shoulder. He seemed to say, “I know that you will help me.”

Androclus lifted the paw from the ground, and saw that it was a long, sharp thorn which hurt the lion so much. He took the end of the thorn in his fingers; then he gave a strong, quick pull, and out it came. The lion was full of joy. He jumped about like a dog, and licked the hands and feet of his new friend. Androclus was not at all afraid after this; and when night came, he and the lion lay down and slept side by side. For a long time, the lion brought food to Androclus every day; and the two became such good friends, that Androclus found his new life a very happy one.

One day some soldiers who were passing through the wood and found Androclus in the cave. They knew who he was, and so took him back to Rome. It was the law at that time that every slave who ran away from his master should be made to fight a hungry lion. So a fierce lion was shut up for a while without food, and a time was set for the fight.

When the day came, thousands of people crowded to see the sport. They went to such places at that time very much as people now-a-days go to see a circus show. The door opened, and poor Androclus was brought in. He was almost dead with fear, for the roars of the lion could already be heard. He looked up, and saw that there was no pity in the thousands of faces around him.

Then the hungry lion rushed in. With a single bound he reached the poor slave. Androclus gave a great cry, not of fear, but of gladness. It was his old friend, the lion from the cave. The people, who had expected to see the man killed by the lion, were filled with wonder. They saw Androclus put his arms around the lion’s neck; they saw the lion lie down at his feet, and lick them lovingly; they saw the great beast rub his head against the slave’s face as though he wanted to be petted. They could not understand what it all meant.

After a while they asked Androclus to tell them about it. So he stood up before them, and, with his arm around the lion’s neck, told how he and the beast had lived together in the cave. “I am a man,” he said; “but no man has ever befriended me. This poor lion alone has been kind to me; and we love each other as brothers.”

The people were not so bad that they could be cruel to the poor slave now. “Live and be free!” they cried. “Live and be free!”

Others cried, “Let the lion go free too! Give both of them their liberty!”

And so Androclus was set free, and the lion was given to him as his own. And they lived happily together in Rome for many years.

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About the Author

Erika Bear

I used to live with a family in Kings Lynn where I would lie around a little girl’s bedroom all day watching the sun rise and fall and listening to mummy telling us stories. Then one day, mummy took me to a car-boot sale and I never saw them again. Luckily, Roy bought me for £1 and sent me to live here at Jammy Toast with Davidd. Now I spend my days living with other bears, writing stories to tell the bears and now sharing the best of them with you.


37 Comments on “Erika’s Stories #4”

  1. I do like this story, but I have to ask: who decided this was suitable for a gentle young bear like Erika? It’s full of slavery and brutal executions… very politically incorrect.

  2. I was at the Theatre of Dog Shite Football when my phone goes. Its my leader . Shit this might be incredibly important… “Hello darling what’s going down ?”

    “Somebody’s put a cardboard box on our skip .”

    “I’m on my way out the ground right now to study the security camera footage . The bastard !”

  3. Turns out BREXIT is not Actually a Shorthand description of Boris Johnson’s personaility;

    Bullying,
    Racist,
    Egotistical,
    Xenophobic,
    Idiot,
    Tory.

    Frankly livid about this.

  4. If anybody is looking for me just tell them i’m back in 1997 .. . i got on the nostalgic train about 2 hours ago and anyones guess is as good as mine as to when there’s another train back…

  5. Rolf report Sept 8

    Made my grand entrance when I visited the Economics Department yesterday. I always rush straight to Claudia’s office where I can play with my scratching post, find treats in the drawer & sleep on her desk in my cat bed.

    Rolf x

  6. I remember in November 2017, I held my breath and sat perfectly still while Dorothy came very close. I think she must have been in a good mood because she just looked at me and forgot about the smacking. She is such a beautiful colour!

  7. I’m newting.
    Don’t cough, anybody, don’t come by!
    Any small noise makes a newt feel shy.
    He thinks I’m a bush, or a new sort of tree;
    He thinks it’s somebody, but doesn’t think it’s Me.
    And he doesn’t know I’m newting.
    That’s what I’m doing –
    Newting.

  8. Off to a lunch commemorating the great life of my dear friend Les Reed. Then straight afterwards off to the Grand Order of Water Rats. Neither are good for my diet so I’ll have to start again tomorrow… or possibly the next day?

  9. 23 is a weird age, there’s people I went school with on their 2nd child, some getting married, some living the absolute dream and me? I still forget about the cup of tea I’ve just made.

  10. There’s a pig in my yard and it won’t go away and my adulting manual did not come with a set of instructions for this particular scenario wtf.

    Do I sing to it and pull some pied piper shit or what?

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