te, and that to Oley smelled best of
all. The doster ticked quietly to itself, then gave a loud pop, and up
came two golden-brown slices of doste. Dostes? Oley wasn't sure. But he
hadn't really begun paying too much attention to whether one doste was
the same as two doste or what, though he could quite proudly tell you
the difference between one and two.

Out it came, and fresh butter was spread on it, and in went two shiny
white beds, for some more doste.

Little Oley watched in fascination. And now he reached for the
tremendous glass sitting on the table in front of him. But his fingers
didn't quite make it. Somehow, the glass was heavy and slippery, and it
eluded him, rolled over on its side, and spilled the bright purple juicy
contents out across the table in a huge swish.

Oley wasn't dismayed, but watched with a researcher's interest as the
bright purple juice swept across the table towards the busily ticking
doster. Momma, of course, wasn't here, or she would have been gruff
about it. She'd just gone into the other room.

[Illustration]

The juice spread rapidly at first, and then more and more slowly, making
a huge, circuitous river spreading across the table, first towards the
doster and then away from it towards the frayed power-cord lying on the
table. It touched and began to run along the cord. Not a very eventful
recording so far, but Oley watched, charmed.

As he watched, a few bubbles began to appear near the frayed spot. A few
wisps of steam. And then, suddenly, there was a loud, snarling
splat--and Momma screamed from the doorway. "That juice is making a
short!"

The information, of course, was duly recorded. Juice makes shorts.

It was a minor item of information, mixed into a jumble of others, and
nothing else was added to this particular file for nearly another week.

* * * * *

Oley was playing happily on the living room floor that night. Here there
was much to explore, though an adult might not have thought twice about
it. Back in the corner behind Momma's doing bachine a bright, slender
piece of metal caught Oley's attention. Bigger on one end than the
other, but not really very big anywhere, the sewing machine needle
proved fascinating. As a first experiment, Oley determined that it
worked like a tooth by biting himself with it. After that he went around
the room, biting other things with it. Information, of course, is
information, and to be obtained any