Tying Nicknack near a fence, where he could nibble the sweet grass, Jan and Ted, taking Trouble by the hands, went to look at the fat man’s wagon. They finished eating the waffles as they looked at it. The wagon within was like a little house. There was a bed built on one side, and a table with books and papers on it. Then there was a little kitchen, where the fat man cooked waffles, and other things that he ate himself.
“You see I’d get sort of tired of waffles, seeing so many of them,” he explained. “I only eat ’em when I can’t sell ’em.”
Then he told the Curlytops how he drove about from town to town in the country, sometimes going to cities, where he sold waffles and other things. His name, he said, was Sam Sander, and he had been selling waffles and candy about the country for seven years.
“Well, I must be traveling on,” he said after a while, when the Curlytops had finished looking at his wagon, inside and outside. “I’m going to town to sell waffles. Here’s a little waffle for your goat,” and he tossed a broken one to Nicknack, who ate it and cried: “Baa-a-a-a!” as if in thanks.
“Isn’t he nice!” exclaimed Jan when smiling Sam Sander had driven away with his white horse and red wagon. “I like him!”
“So do I,” agreed Ted.
“More cake?” asked Trouble, looking up with his face quite smeared with the waffles he had eaten.
“No more cakes now,” answered Jan with a laugh. “But those were good,” she said to her brother. “I’d like some more myself.”
“We’ll buy some to-morrow if we can find him,” returned Ted. “If he’s going to be in town we may see him. We can ride over in our goat wagon.”
“Yes,” agreed Jan. “I’m glad Mr. Sander didn’t take Nicknack even in fun, though.”