"We had to, to get away from the Little People," helped Andy.
"So that's it," said the Owl. "They are a nuisance, I'll admit, spoiling all the hunting with their songs and dancing. I'm inclined to help you. What will you give me if I carry you down?"
Andy and Hortense searched their pockets and turned out a piece of string, a top, five jacks, a pocketknife, and two not very clean handkerchiefs.
"Those are of no use to me," said the Owl.
"We have nothing else except some pieces of cooky," bargained Hortense.
"Very well," the Owl grumbled, "I'll take them—though it's not enough."
Hortense gave him her cooky—all but a tiny piece which she saved to eat when she wanted to grow big again. The Owl swallowed it in one gulp.
"Very good cooky," he commented, "though I should prefer a little more molasses. Get on my back."
Hortense obeyed, and the Owl spread his great wings. Out and out he soared and then came gently to earth, and Hortense slipped off his back.
"Thanks very much," said she.