“Do you s’pose he really wants our goat?” asked Jan in a whisper of her brother.
“He can’t have him, if he does,” answered the Curlytop boy. “We won’t sell Nicknack.”
“And we won’t trade him for a horse, either,” went on Jan. “A horse is too big for us. A goat is just right.”
But the jolly fat man did not seem to want to take Nicknack away from the Curlytops. He smiled at them, now that he had on his clean coat, and then, going inside his wagon, he took the reins and turned his horse around so that the children could see the side of the red and little house-like wagon. They saw what seemed to be a tiny kitchen, with shelves of dishes, and on a white oilcloth-covered table stood a little gasolene stove.
The fat man mixed some batter in a pan, lighted a fire in the small stove and then began to cook something. As smoke arose and a delicious, sweet, brownish smell filled the air, the queer man began ringing a bell.
“Oh, ho!” he cried, laughing. “Do you know what that means?”
“I knows! I knows!” cried Trouble before his brother or sister could speak. “Dat’s din’-don’ bell, Pussy’s in de well!”
“Almost right, little chap!” laughed the man. “It is a ding-dong bell, but it sings another song. Here it is,” and he sang:
“Ding dong bell,
Listen while I tell,