"You are quite wrong, my poor beast," said
the Shaggy Man in a tone of pity. "Think how
tired your jaws would get chewing a square
meal like this, if it were not condensed to the
size of a small tablet--which you can swallow
in a jiffy."
"Chewing isn't tiresome; it's fun, maintained
the Woozy. "I always chew the honey-bees when I
catch them. Give me some bread and cheese, Ojo."
"No, no! You've already eaten a big dinner!"
protested the Shaggy Man.
"May be," answered the Woozy; "but I guess
I'll fool myself by munching some bread and
cheese. I may not be hungry, having eaten all
those things you gave me, but I consider this
eating business a matter of taste, and I like to
realize what's going into me."
Ojo gave the beast what he wanted, but the
Shaggy Man shook his shaggy head reproachfully and
said there was no animal so obstinate or hard to
convince as a Woozy.
At this moment a patter of footsteps was heard,
and looking up they saw the live phonograph
standing before them. It seemed to have passed
through many adventures since Ojo and his comrades
last saw the machine, for the varnish of its
wooden case was all marred and dented and
scratched in a way that gave it an aged and
disreputable appearance.
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