in town. I
can get a chop at any ax factory in the country, and if I want sweets I
can find a Cakery--"

"Bakery, you mean?" said Tom.

"No, I don't at all," said the Bellows. "I mean Cakery. A Cakery is a
place where they sell cake, and when I say Cakery I mean what I say. Just
because you call it Bakery doesn't prove anything."

"We're out for pleasure, not for argument," growled the Lefthandiron. "Go
on and say what you've got to say."

"Well," said the Bellows, "what I was trying to say, when interrupted, was
that you can get your stomach filled almost anywhere, but your mind--that
is different. I'm hungrier in my mind than in my stomach, and I'd rather
be fed just now on the jests of an oyster, the good stories of a clam and
the anecdotes of a Lobster, than have the freedom of the richest
marshmallow mine in creation."

"Well, I'm sure I don't know what to do," said Tom, very much perplexed.
The Candydike was glorious, but the Lobster shop, too, had its
attractions, for Tom was fond of witty jokes and good anecdotes. The idea
of having them from the lips of lobsters and oysters was very appealing.

"I say," he said in a minute, "why isn't the Lobster shop the best place
for us to go after all, if we are really hungry? We could sit down at the
table, you know, and listen to the Lobster's anecdotes, and then eat him
afterward. In that way we could hear the stories and fill up beside."

"Well--I de-clare!" cried the Bellows. "What an idea! You most ungrateful
boy!"

"Not at all," said the Poker. "Not at all. It's merely the habit of his
kind. Many's the time when I've heard of men and women devouring their
favorite authors. Tom couldn't better show his liking for the lobster than
by eating him. On the other hand, if he goes there and turns his back on
the Candydike he'll miss the most wonderful sight in all creation, and
that is the Nesselrode Cataract on the Soda Water river. It is located at
the point where the Vanilla glacier comes down from the Cream mountains on
the one side, and the famous Marrons orchards line the other bank for a
distance of seven miles. It's a perfectly gorgeous sight."

"Mercy me!" cried Tom. "Indeed, I should like to see that."

[Illustration: DEVOURING HIS FAVORITE AUTHOR.]

"No doubt," put in the Bellows. "Nevertheless, you can see Nesselrode
pudding at home at any time, but did you ever see there a Turtle that can
recite a fairy story of his own composition or a Crab capable