"Soda water flowing from Mountain to the Sea," returned the Righthandiron, smacking his lips again ecstatically. "Just imagine it, Tom. A great stream of Soda Water fed by little rivulets of Vanilla and Strawberry and Chocolate syrup, with here and there a Cream brook feeding the combination, until all you had to do to get a glass of the finest nectar ever mixed was to dip your cup into the river and there you were."
Tom closed his eyes with very joy at the mere idea.
"O—where is this river?" he cried, when he was able to find words to speak.
"In the Candydike, of course. Where else?" said the Poker. "But of course we can go to the Lobster shop if you prefer."
"Not I," said Tom. "I don't care for any Lobster shop with a Candydike in sight."
"Don't be rash," said the Bellows, who apparently had a strong liking for the Lobster shop. "Of course we all love the Candydike because it is so sweet, but for real pleasure the Lobster shop is not to be despised. I don't think you ought to make up your mind as to where you'll go next in too much of a hurry."
"What's the fun in the Lobster shop?" asked Tom.
"Purely intellectual, if you know what that means," said the Bellows. "You get your mind filled there instead of your stomach. You meet the wittiest oysters, and the most poetic clams, and the most literary lobsters at the Lobster shop you ever saw. For my part I love the Lobster shop. I can get something to eat anywhere. I can get a stake at any lumber yard in town. I can get a chop at any ax factory in the country, and if I want sweets I can find a Cakery—"
"Bakery, you mean?" said Tom.
"No, I don't at all," said the Bellows. "I mean Cakery. A Cakery is a place where they sell cake, and when I say Cakery I mean what I say. Just because you call it Bakery doesn't prove anything."