[CHAPTER XI.]
IN DERBY TOWN.
Poor Billy was in despair over his punctured suit. It is a good thing he had no mirror to see how like a broken toy balloon he looked, or he would have felt even worse. He tried pumping it up with his hot air pump, but it was no use—sizz-z, the air came right out of the hole. "If I had just thought to bring some bicycle tyre tape," he said, examining the puncture carefully, "or if I had some gum."
When he said this Barker ran up to him, and laying his head in his lap, looked up at him knowingly. "What is it, old doggie—do you feel sorry too? I'm sure I don't know what is to become of us; we shall have to walk now. Of course we still have the Singing Tree. That's so, the tree—do you suppose you could bark up any other kind of tree? A gum tree—but how?" Barker nodded his head and wagged his tail, as much as to say, "Of course I can; just try me."
"I have it!" cried Billy, and tearing in two pieces the pocket-handkerchief that Gehsundheit had given him, he carefully wrapped and tied one half of it over Barker's lower set of teeth, and the other half over his upper set. It was a tedious operation, but finally Barker stood before him with his teeth all hidden and nothing but his gums exposed. Barker didn't mind, indeed he seemed to know just what Billy was about, and capered and danced with glee.
"Now we will see what a gum bark will grow into," said Billy, quickly digging a hole. Over to it ran Barker and stood holding his nose down—pinch. "Wow—wow," went the dog, a muffled bark, for all the world like a toothless old man trying to talk. In a jiffy the dirt was shoveled in and up sprang—a gum tree. Yes, there instead of the Singing Tree stood a gum tree, its branches laden with "Yucatan," and "Pepsin," and "Tutti Frutti."
"Hurrah!" cried Billy, shaking down package after package of gum. And popping a great piece into his mouth he chewed away for dear life. Quickly he spread the soft, sticky mass over a piece of cloth snipped from the lining of his jacket and pressed the whole thing over the puncture. It stuck as close and as tight as wall-paper, and Billy knew that he was indeed repaired.
"Chug-ff—chug-ff—chug-ff—squee-ee!" went the hot air pump, and there stood Billy as round and fat as ever with never a leak in his suit.
"Thank you, Barker, old boy," said Billy, patting Barker's head and taking the handkerchief out of his mouth.