E DONKEY

CHAP. 8

[Illustration]

On they went, and half an hour's steady walking brought them to a house
somewhat better than the two they had already passed. It stood close to
the roadside and over the door was a sign that read: "Miss Foolish Owl
and Mr. Wise Donkey: Public Advisers."

When Ojo read this sign aloud Scraps said laughingly: "Well, here is a
place to get all the advice we want, maybe more than we need. Let's go
in."

The boy knocked at the door.

"Come in!" called a deep bass voice.

So they opened the door and entered the house, where a little
light-brown donkey, dressed in a blue apron and a blue cap, was engaged
in dusting the furniture with a blue cloth. On a shelf over the window
sat a great blue owl with a blue sunbonnet on her head, blinking her big
round eyes at the visitors.

"Good morning," said the donkey, in his deep voice, which seemed bigger
than he was. "Did you come to us for advice?"

"Why, we came, anyhow," replied Scraps, "and now we are here we may as
well have some advice. It's free, isn't it?

"Certainly," said the donkey. "Advice doesn't cost anything--unless you
follow it. Permit me to say, by the way, that you are the queerest lot
of travelers that ever came to my shop. Judging you merely by
appearances, I think you'd better talk to the Foolish Owl yonder."

They turned to look at the bird, which fluttered its wings and stared
back at them with its big eyes.

"Hoot-ti-toot-ti-toot!" cried the owl.

"Fiddle-cum-foo,
Howdy--do?
Riddle-cum, tiddle-cum,
Too-ra-la-loo!"

"That beats your poetry, Scraps," said Ojo.

"It's just nonsense!" declared the Glass Cat.

"But it's good advice for the foolish," said the donkey, admiringly.
"Listen to my partner, and you can't go wrong."

Said the owl in a grumbling voice:

"Patchwork Girl has come to life;
No one's sweetheart, no one's wife;
Lacking sense and loving fun,
She'll be snubbed by everyone."

"Quite a compliment! Quite a compliment, I declare," exclaimed the
donkey, turning to look at Scraps. "You are certainly a wonder, my dear,
and I fancy you'd make a splendid pincushion. If you belonged to me, I'd
wear smoked glasses when I looked at you."

"Why?" asked the Patchwork Girl.

"Because you are so gay and gaudy."

"It is my beauty that dazzles you," she asserted. "You Munchkin people
all strut around in your stupid blue color, while I--"

"You are wrong in calling m