He went out, and Mr. Carmody experienced a little relief at the thought that he had now heard all this morning's bad news.
But dairy farmers have second thoughts. The door opened again.
"I was forgetting," said John, poking his head in.
Mr. Carmody uttered a low moan.
"We want some Thomas tap-cinders."
"Thomas what?"
"Tap-cinders."
"Thomas tap-cinders?"
"Thomas tap-cinders."
Mr. Carmody swallowed unhappily. He knew it was no use asking what these mysterious implements were, for his nephew would simply reply that they were Thomas tap-cinders or that they were something invented by a Mr. Thomas for the purpose of cinder-tapping, leaving his brain in the same addled condition in which it was at present. If John wished to tap cinders, he supposed he must humour him.