Road beyond here is pretty bad; worst
we shall have to travel; so let's wait until
morning before we tackle it."
They agreed to this and Ojo found some brushwood
in the cabin and made a fire on the hearth. The
fire delighted Scraps, who danced before it until
Ojo warned her she might set fire to herself and
burn up. After that the Patchwork Girl kept at a
respectful distance from the darting flames, but
the Woozy lay down before the fire like a big dog
and seemed to enjoy its warmth.
For supper the Shaggy Man ate one of his
tablets, but Ojo stuck to his bread and cheese as
the most satisfying food. He also gave a portion
to the Woozy.
When darkness came on and they sat in a circle
on the cabin floor, facing the firelight--there
being no furniture of any sort in the place--Ojo
said to the Shaggy Man:
"Won't you tell us a story?"
"I'm not good at stories," was the reply; "but
I sing like a bird."
"Raven, or crow?" asked the Glass Cat.
"Like a song bird. I'll prove it. I'll sing a song
I composed myself. Don't tell anyone I'm a poet;
they might want me to write a book. Don't tell
'em I can sing, or they'd want me to make
records for that awful phonograph. Haven't
time to be a public benefactor, so I'll just sing
you this little song for your own amusement.
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