Big Jul and small Hun meanwhile kept on cracking and eating nuts, Jul varying the game by sometimes trying to hit some goal in the room with a shell.
"I know it!" cried Rolf, overjoyed. "It is pick-pocket."
"Oh, ho, Rolf, how can you be so absurd! How can a pick-pocket smell?" cried Jul, disgusted. "It is something very different. It's spearmint."
"Yes, I see!" said Rolf, a little disappointed. "Wait, Jul, what is this?"
"'My first within the alphabet is found,
My second is a bread that's often sweet;
My third is something loved by active feet.
My whole means something more than just to go around.'"
"Cake-walk," said Jul with not the slightest hesitation.
"Oh ho, entirely wrong," laughed Rolf, "that doesn't work out. It has three syllables."
"Oh, I forgot," said Jul.
"You see you are wrong," triumphed Rolf. "It is abundance. Wait, I know still another."
"The first—"