“A donkey!” he repeated. Then he smiled, and struck another match, and for a few moments smoked in silence.
“And we had such a good time at the Greenwood Club,” said Buddie. “The Rabbit and the Tortoise ran a race, and we tossed the Weasel in a blanket, and Doctor Goose read a paper and—oh, dear! I can’t begin to think of all the things we did. And, oh yes, we came up to The Well to find out why the Rabbit wabbles his nose. Didn’t we, Colonel?”
The Yellow Dog barked.
“I guess, little girl, you fell asleep and dreamed all this,” remarked the land-looker, eying her curiously.
“No; I didn’t,” declared Buddie, positively. “It was really.”
“Well, tell me all about it,” said Mr. Goodell, with another indulgent smile. And Buddie, beginning at the beginning, which is always the best place to begin, gave him a faithful account of the day’s doings.
The land-looker listened gravely, and when the story was done he rose and swung his pack upon his back.
“I guess there’s room for you to ride,” said he, hoisting Buddie to his shoulder. “We must get home before your folks begin to worry.”
So they set off for home, the Yellow Dog trotting contentedly behind.
“You must sing your song for Mr. Goodell, Colonel!” Buddie called back to him.