Ajax is writing in his little book by the light of a candle, and when we come in he stops.
“Pardon me,” says he to Magpie. “Has anything ever been written regarding the hipwiggler?”
“Nun-not that I knows about. It ain’t what you’d call popular.”
He thinks it over for a while, and then he sort of says to himself:
“It could be named after me. What an honor!”
“Yes’m,” admits Magpie. “You can be a father to it if you want to.”
“If I could only secure a specimen!” he wails. “I must! I will!”
He hops off his seat and walks up and down the cabin.
“You spoke of something about securing one by making a noise like a—a——”
“Loofmad?” asks Magpie.