"Aha, so our goose is cooked, is it?" observed the Cowardly Lion, sniffing the air hungrily. "Must have flown too near the sun."
"Well," chuckled Notta, "that I don't pretend to know. Fishing for birds is strange enough, but catching a cooked goose is almost too good to be true."
"But it is true," exulted Bob, clapping his hands, "and I caught it!" While the Cowardly Lion watched the two rods, and Bob proudly picked his goose, Notta ran off in search of water. In a few minutes he came running back with a bucket full which he had drawn from a small sky well. The bucket, one of the canvas collapsible kind used in circuses, the clown had fortunately stowed under his capacious belt. As neither meat nor drink was now lacking, they sat down under a small tree and dined quite merrily. The Cowardly Lion ate one half the goose, bones and all, and Notta and Bob finished off the rest.
"It looks," said the clown, rising to take a drink of water out of the bucket, which he hung on a branch of the tree, "it looks as if the Uns had forgotten us."
"Maybe," mused the lion, shaking his mane, "but we mustn't forget them. Have you thought of anything yet?"
"Not a thing," confessed the clown cheerfully. He turned a dozen cartwheels, walked a few paces on his hands, and ended up with a somersault over Bob. "You're a spry one," said the Cowardly Lion admiringly, as the clown sat down with his back against a tree, "as spry a one as I've ever met."
"Thank you," laughed Notta. "If thinking came as easily as cartwheeling we'd be off this skyle in no time. But now that we're fed and comfortable, suppose we think again."
"I'd rather fish," said Bob Up promptly. "Can't we fish a little longer, Notta?"
