: "He's so curious," or, "He's so
interesting," or something of the sort, and fell away into a deep slumber
again. At last Bob undertook to wake some of them up by hallooing, but
the more noise he made, the more soundly they slept. Then he gave over
shaking them and shouting at them, and sat down. As soon as he was quiet
they began to wake up again.

"Hello!" cried Bob, when he saw two or three of them open their eyes.

"If you'd only keep still till I get awake," said one of them, and then
they all went to sleep again.

By keeping quite still he got them pretty well waked up. Then they all
fell to counting their toes, to keep from becoming too much interested in
Bobby, for just so sure as they get interested or excited, the
Sleepy-headed People fall asleep. Presently the reader awoke, and began
to mumble a lot of stuff out of the big book, about Epaminondas, and
Sesostris, and Cyaxeres, and Clearchus, and the rest, and they all grew a
little more wakeful. When he came to an account of a battle, Bobby began
to be interested a little in the story, but all the others yawned and
cried out, "Read across, read across!" and the reader straightway read
clear across the page, mixing the two columns into hopeless nonsense, so
as to destroy the interest. Then they all waked up again.

"I know a better thtory than that air!" said Bobby, growing tired of the
long mumbling reading of the dull book.

"Do you? Tell it," said the reader.

So Bobby began to tell them some of his adventures, upon which they all
grew interested and fell asleep.

"Don't tell any more like that," said the little reader, when he awoke.

"What'th the matter weth it? Heap better thtory than that big book that
you're a mumblin' over, Mr. Puddin'."

"We don't like interesting stories," said the sleepy reader. "They put us
to sleep. This is the best book in the world. It's Rollin's Ancient
History, and it hasn't got but a few interesting spots in the whole of
it. Those we keep sewed up, so that we can't read them. The rest is all
so nice and dull, that it keeps us awake all day."

Bobby stared, but said nothing.

"Can you sing?" said one of the plump little old women.

"Yeth, I can sing Dandy Jim."

"Let's have it. I do love singing; it soothes me and keeps me awake."

Thus entreated, little Bobby stood up and sang one verse of a negro song
he had heard, which ran:

"When de preacher took his tex'
He look so berry much perplex'
Fur