“You go nineteen thousand miles through the woods and take the second turn to your left,” some one answered.
“Then you jump in the well,” Pee-wee shouted. Simon was greatly edified at the ease with which his small companion handled the passing show.
“What ails Goodale’s Farm?” a couple of young fellows began singing.
“What’s the good of Goodale’s,” another wit chimed in.
“What’s the good of all the snails in Snailsdale?” Pee-wee shouted at the top of his voice, which caused much laughter. “All the snails came out of their shells to-day. They come out when it rains!”
Indeed he looked funny enough straddling the old roof, with his gaudy turban falling about his head and his mouth besmeared with jam.
“They grow big signs daown that thar farm,” shouted a young mimic. “Haow’s the geese daown thar?”
“All right, I’ll tell them their brother was asking after them,” Pee-wee answered.
“Haow’s the pigs?” piped up another voice.
“Fine. How are all your family?” Pee-wee shot back.