Busy with his potato, Pinkey did not see them until they were before him. Then he stopped and stared hard as they lay on their backs grinning up at him with the "forcemeat" oozing through the stitching.
"What are they?" His emphasis was not flattering.
"I shan't tell you yet," declared Wallie.
Pinkey continued to eye them suspiciously.
"They kinda remind me of a mummy I seen in a side-show; then, again, they look like incubator childern—roasted. Them teeth are what git me. I can't quite place 'em. 'Tain't wood-pussy or nothin', Wallie? 'Tain't no notorious animal like pole-kitty?"
Wallie looked offended.
"I intend to eat some myself," he replied with dignity.
"Are they some kind of a varmint?" Dubiously.
"Varmint?"
"Pack-rat or weasel?"