And with that he planted the Singing Tree, curled up beneath it, and in a minute was sound asleep.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
IN THE VOLCANO OF VOCIFEROUS.
When Billy awoke the next morning and saw the dear old sun grinning down at him, and looked about at the green meadow dotted with Black-eyed Susans and Dandelions, he could hardly realize that his adventures of the night before were real. But there on the edge of the open space stood the trees that had creaked so dismally; while even then among its trunks lingered some of the mist that had made the walls of Spookville.
"What did you think of it, dogibus?" he said to Barker. But that merry little chap looked so happy and contented, and his eyes seemed so clear of unpleasant memories, that Billy decided that dogs don't see ghosts—perhaps because they are not afraid in the dark, and anyway haven't any nurses to tell them things that are not true.
"Half past eight—time we were off!" said Billy, looking at his Waterbury. And so off they flew into space.
"I doubt if I can float over that high mountain," he said presently. "What a queer-looking thing it is, too." And no wonder it was queer looking, for it was the Volcano of Vociferous with just a little thin white vapor rising from its crater. "Oh, me! oh, my! I'm falling right into the hole," he cried, "I wonder if I will fetch up in China?" And sure enough, when he got right over the crater he began to fall, fall, fall, through the opening and way down towards the centre of the earth. And just about the time he had given up hopes of ever landing in any place, he hit plump on a floor of lava. Right in front of him was a door bearing this sign: "The Coal Man. Best Anthracite and Soft Coal. New Gold and Silver bought and sold. Nickel-plating a specialty. For admission to works apply at Office. Walk in." Turning the handle Billy walked in.