“We may as well go in!” Gran’pa said, “for we cannot get out while the Wolves are at the opening!” So hand in hand they entered the door and followed a narrow passageway as it zigzagged back and forth.
Presently they came to a round room filled with a reddish light, and in the center of this room stood a large pot.
Gran’pa went up to the pot and raised the lid. As he did so the lid sprang from his hands and flew across the room. The pot began popping like a bunch of firecrackers, and white stuff flew from it up to the ceiling and rattled down about the place.
Gran’pa and Gran’ma could not find the entrance to the room again, although they went around the room four or five times.
Gran’pa discovered a hole far above their heads, and as the white stuff flew about them like hail and settled upon the floor, they kept climbing on top of it until they could reach the hole and climb through.
As they crawled into the hole something warm and sticky flowed by them, so they hurried back into the room from which they had just come. It was lucky for them that they did, for the sticky stuff poured from the hole in a stream and mixed with the white stuff which now nearly filled the room.
“It’s molasses!” Gran’pa cried, as he tasted it.
“And the white stuff is popcorn!” Gran’ma cried in turn, as she took up a handful and squeezed it together into a popcorn ball.
The molasses candy continued to pour from the hole until the popcorn was covered with it. Then the room began to sway back and forth, gently at first, then faster and faster, until Gran’pa, popcorn and Gran’ma were shaken up and rolled about much the same as popcorn is in a shaker. Both Gran’pa and Gran’ma were covered with molasses and popcorn when the room ceased shaking.
“Dear me suz!” Gran’ma exclaimed. “The stuff is all in my hair!—This is a mess!”