"Got ten thousand dollars in your pocket?" queried the Imp, with a snicker.
"No; but I've got a dollar in my iron bank," said Jimmieboy; "perhaps he'd take me for that."
"YOUR EARS WOULD BE FROZEN SOLID."
"Very likely he would," said the Imp. "These circus fellows will do almost anything for money; but when he got you there he would tell you you could stay there until you paid the other $9999; and think how awful that would be. Why, your ears would be frozen solid inside of four weeks."
"Is it as cold as that at the Pole?" said Jimmieboy.
"Colder!" ejaculated the Imp. "Why, when I was there once I felt chilly in spite of my twenty-eight seal-skin sacques and sixty-seven mufflers, so I decided to build a fire. I got the fagots all ready, lit the match, and what do you suppose happened?"
"What?" queried Jimmieboy, in a whisper, for he was a little awed by the Imp's manner. "Wouldn't the match light?"
"Worse than that," replied the Imp. "It lit, but before I could touch it to the fagots the flame froze!"