"Reckybecky!"
This name reverberated round and about like a clap of thunder. It went on and on, making such a noise that all the little Wigs left off scraping up the jam and scampered away.
Redy felt afraid. Smaly jumped off the patten on which he had remained perched during the eclipse of the Confectioner. As to the latter, he endeavoured to shut his mouth and stop the noise from going on echoing; but he was not very solid again as yet and found some difficulty in doing it. At the end of the long avenue of sugar-trees Redy could see little groups of people gathered together looking about them to try and discover whence came this noise.
The Confectioner succeeded in shutting his mouth, and then turning towards Redy he opened it again, and remarked firmly:
"You are a stupid little thing."
Then turning to Smaly he said, with that confidential accent which one adopts when singling out the most intelligent person of a company for one's remarks:
"No, I cannot be Reckybecky, for somebody else is Reckybecky, so there!"
The Confectioner seemed extremely relieved by this remarkable solution.
To return to a Mere Shapeless Thing once again