"Well, I'm 'most always hungry myself."
"Oh, that isn't real hunger; that's just wanting something to eat. Hello, here's the Mossville sign now! See it?"
"Yes; so now we must be halfway. I'm not tired, are you?"
"No, not a bit. I'd like a drink of water, though. Perhaps we'll come to a brook."
But they walked on considerably further without seeing any brook, or even a farmhouse where they might stop for a drink of water. But when they were about half a mile from Pelton, King saw a little bridge off toward the right, and exclaimed, "That bridge must be over water of some sort. If you want to, Midget, we can go over and see if it's clean enough to drink."
"Come on, then; it won't take long, and I'm 'most choked to death."
They walked across an intervening field, and came to the little bridge which did cross a small but clear and sparkling brook.
"What can we drink out of?" asked Midget.
"Have to drink out of our hands, I guess; wish we had a cup or something.
Oh, look at that man!"
Midget looked in the direction King pointed, and saw a man seated on the ground, busily working at something which seemed to be made of long rushes of reeds.