“And I,” said the ’Possum, “should like to know why I dislike the taste of persimmons and can’t eat ’em.”
“And I,” said the Donkey, “should like to find out the best singing method. How about Just Buddie?”
“Nothing—that is, nothing I think of just now,” she replied hastily.
“Well, suppose you ask for the rest of us,” said the Donkey. “All in favor of Just Buddie’s asking all the questions will say ‘Aye’; contrary-minded, ‘No.’ The ayes appear to have it. Motion carried unanimously.”
“Which shall I ask first?” said Buddie, as she knelt at the curb and the others gathered about her.
“Oh, ask about the Rabbit,” said the Donkey. “Let’s get that off our minds. Lean over as far as you can, and holler at the top of your voice. It may be a long way to the bottom.”
Clutching the curb tightly with both hands, Buddie bent over as far as she dared. As she did so something passed before her eyes.
It was the long-forgotten bouquet of Enchanter’s Nightshade, which had worked loose from her hair-ribbon, and now vanished in the depths of The Well.
CHAPTER XIX
DISENCHANTMENT
“Why does a rabbit wabble his nose?”