But the ceiling rose with the Loon, and it grew brighter and brighter, until at last the sky appeared. Up and up wheeled the Loon, until he became a mere speck in the blue, and disappeared altogether. Then Buddie looked down—
But the Bear’s house, and the Bears, and the Donkey, and all the others, had vanished with the Loon, and she was again in Beavertown. Everything was as she had left it, except that the Laziest Beaver no longer fanned himself with his tail; he had fallen asleep. But the Yellow Dog, apparently as fresh as ever, was finishing the Chorus which Buddie had begun and the Loon had interrupted.
And, as before, there came the peculiar echoes around Buddie’s head; but this time she kept her eyes fixed on the Yellow Dog.
“Every time I look up,” she thought, “I am carried off to somewhere else. And I want to stay a little while and talk to Colonel.”
The experiment succeeded beautifully. The echoes floated away, but the meadow and the little river remained; the Laziest Beaver slept beside his tumble-down house, and the Yellow Dog began another verse of his seemingly endless song:
“We know why two birds may be killed with one stone,
While it’s hard to kill one bird with two;
Why a sunshiny shower won’t last half an hour,
Is a cud that is easy to chew;
Why horseshoes are good to keep witches away,