"Where we goin'?"
"Let's go fishin'--I hate speeches," the Toyman replied.
"I made a silly, a fool of myself, didn't I?" said Jehosophat.
"Not by a long sight," the Toyman replied. "You see, sonny," he went on to explain, very soberly, "that's an old piece of yours and out of date. Now they're making new arrangements and editions of books and po'try all the time. They just change with the times. And yours is a heap better than the old piece, anyway you look at it."
Jehosophat wasn't quite so sure. But, anyway, they had a great time "fishin'."
[XI]
OLE MAN PUMPKIN
It was October, and the cornfield was deserted and bare. Jehosophat and Marmaduke could remember it as a more beautiful picture. For there, in the Summer, an army had camped, the great army of the corn, with tassels and tall yellow spears, and bright green banners waving and tossing in the wind. But when Fall had come, Father and the Toyman had come, too, with their sickles like swords, to attack and cut down that brave army. And now the corn soldiers were all laid away, stiff and cold, in the barn, or else in the silo--to be pickled in juice!
Marmaduke and Jehosophat looked over the field. It was covered with little hills, and there the feet of the corn soldiers still stood, all that was left of them, for they had been "swished by those swords," just at the ankles.
Between the hills shone the last of the pumpkins, big, round and yellow--red-yellow like an orange. Most of them had gone in the wagon, long ago, but the largest of all had been left. My, but he was a big fellow! "The biggest in the world!" they declared.