"An-an' I haven't had any s-supper, either."
"Neither have I!" grinned the Bear, "that is, none worth mentioning. A young rabbit or two, perhaps, and a quart or so of blackberries, but nothing real good and strengthening to fill up on." Then he regarded Bosephus reflectively, and began singing as he played softly:—
"Oh, we'll have a little music first and then some supper, too,
But before we have the supper we will play the music through."
"No hurry, you know. Be cool, please, and don't wiggle so."
But Bosephus, or Bo, as he was called, was very much disturbed. So far as he could see there was no prospect of supper for anybody but the Bear.
"You'll forget all about supper pretty soon," continued the Bear, fiddling.
"You'll forget about your supper—you'll forget about your home—
You'll forget you ever started out in Arkansaw to roam."
"My name is Horatio," he continued. "Called Ratio for short. But I don't like it. Call me Horatio, in full, please."
"MAYBE YOU CAN PLAY IT YOURSELF."