"It's built in the sky."
"In the sky? Is it on the road to Bogie Man's house?"
"Are you seeking Bogie Man? Oh, me! oh, my! Don't tell me you are seeking him."
"But I am," said Billy; "why not?"
"Because I've got to hold you if you are, and I'm so tired," said the Hermit, slowly reaching out his arms.
"Good-by," cried Billy, giving a jump and bounding out of his reach.
"Oh! please come back and tell me another joke, I haven't had a good cry for a week," called the Hermit, holding out his arms.
"Too late," Billy called back—"But when is a door not a door? when its a jar."
"Thank you," sobbed the Hermit, and the last Billy saw or heard of him he was murmuring, "When is a door a jar," and weeping bitterly.