The Donkey collected great piles of thistles and threw them in， but Uncle Andrew didn’t seem to care about them. The Squirrels bombarded him with volleys of nuts， but heonly covered his head with his hands and tried to keep out of the way. Several birds flew to and fro deligently dropping worms on him. The Bear was especially kind. During the afternoon he found a wild bees‘ nest and instead of eating it himself （which he would very much like to have done） this worthy creature brought it back to Uncle Andrew. But this was in fact the worst failure of all. The Bear lobbed the whole sticky mass over the top of the enclosure and unfortunately it hit Uncle Andrew slap in the face （not all the bees were dead）. The Bear， who would not at all have minded being hit in the face by a honeycomb himself， could not understand why Uncle Andrew staggered back， slipped， and sat down. And it was sheer bad luck that he sat down on the pile of thistles. “And anyway，” as the Warthog said， “quite a lot of honey has got into the creature’s mouth and that‘s bound to have done it some good.” They were really getting quite fond of their strange pet and hoped that Aslan would allow them to keep it. The cleverer ones were quite sure by now that at least some of the noises which came out of his mouth had a meaning. They christened him Brandy because he made that noise so often.
