"Well, rather," said Swayny. "That is to say, I can tell it from a church steeple."
"Which reminds me," put in Swanny, as strange to say, this wonderful sled began to slide up a very steep hill, "of a conundrum I never heard before. What's the difference between writing poetry the way some people do and building a steeple as all people do?"
"I can't say," said Swayny, "though if you'll tell me the answer now next time you ask that conundrum I'll be able to inform you."
"Some people who write poetry run it into the ground," said Swanny, "and all people who build steeples, run 'em up into the air."
"That's not bad," said Jimmieboy, with a smile.
"No," said Swanny, "it is not—but you don't know why."
"I don't indeed," observed Jimmieboy. "Why?"
"Because my conundrums never are," said Swanny.
"Europe!" cried Swayny. "Five minutes for refreshments."