“To pick buttons?” ejaculated Sally, and then she added severely, “I don’t believe he ever found this place while the eclipse was going on. Nobody could have found anything, not even himself.”
“That’s just it; he lost himself. Nobody ever finds this place unless he loses himself. That makes it even, you know. You’re lost, I’m lost, my brother is lost, and the Peppermint Stick is lost. Everybody is lost.”
Sally felt unable to contradict him, although she wanted to badly enough. Therefore she demanded with some asperity:
“What is the Peppermint Stick? It sounds good to me.”
“You mean who is the Peppermint Stick. Well, he was a candy cane in his youth and hung on a Christmas tree. Oh, you’ll be sure to like him, he’s so sweet.”
“If I happen to see a doughnut and a candy cane anywhere between here and next Christmas, I shall eat them,” declared Sally firmly.
She drew up her pink lips in a hungry grin, showing all her sharp little white teeth.
The effect of her words on the Handkerchief Man was entirely unexpected, for after gazing at her for a moment as if fascinated, he exclaimed feebly, “Alas, my brother!” then threw up his wabbly arms and fell over in a dead faint.
“Now, what would anybody do with a thing like that?” exclaimed Sally.