surprised. Jason the Blacksmith looked more surprised than
anyone! But he kept right on singing!

Over the rolling waters go--
Come from the--the something--moon and blow--
While my little one--while my pretty one--sleeps.
Father will come to his babe in the nest--
S-silvery--something--all out of the West--
Silvery----

We ran!

When we got to the Smoke Tree and looked back there was no sound at all
in the Blacksmith Shop except the sound of Ezra thumping his hoofs. And
Jason being a Song instead of a man!

The faster we ran the more surprised we felt.

When you _read_ a book, of course, you expect to be surprised. If you
didn't think the person who made the book was going to tell you
something that you didn't know before you wouldn't bother to read it.
But when you're _writing_ a book it doesn't seem exactly as though so
many unexpected things ought to happen to you!

We were pretty glad when we ran right into the Old Minister who preaches
sometimes when all the young ministers can't think of anything more to
preach about.

The Old Minister was leaning against the Bridge. The Old Lawyer was
leaning against the Bridge with him. They were waving their canes. And
their long white beards. And arguing about the "Thirty-Nine
Articles."--Carol thinks it was the "Fifty-Seven Varieties" they were
arguing about. But the "Fifty-Seven Varieties" I'm almost sure is
Pickles. It's the "Thirty-Nine Articles" that is Arguments!

The Old Minister laughed when he saw us coming. "Well--Well--Well!" he
cried. "See who's here! And carrying such a big book too! And all out
of breath!" He put his arm round Carol. I thought he was going to ask us
our Catechisms. And there wasn't any breath left in our catechisms.

"Oh, if you were a Beautiful Sound," I gasped, "instead of a Beautiful
Preacher--what Beautiful Sound in the whole wide world--would you--would
you choose to be?"

"Eh?" said the Old Minister. "Eh?--What's--that? A--A--Sound instead of
a Preacher? Well, upon my word!--This minute, you mean? Or any minute?
If I was a Beautiful Sound instead of----?" He mopped his forehead. He
looked pretty hot. He twinkled his eyes at the Old Lawyer. "Well--just
_this_ minute," he said, "I'd rather be the Sound of Foaming Beer than
anything else in the world that I can think of!" He thumped his cane on
the ground. The Old Lawyer thumped his cane on the ground. They both
started off down the road thumping as they