t's it," said the Poker. "Now what do you choose, Dormy?"

"All three!" roared Tom.

"The Dormouse is getting his eyes open," said Lefty.

"Which is very proper," put in Righty, "for there is a great deal for him
to see."

"Not so much as there is for me to see," said the Poker. "My, what a lot
there is for me to see!"

"The first thing for us to do," said Lefty, paying no attention to the
Poker's words, "is to get a good place for us to sit, so that Sleepyhead
can see the world."

"There's no better place than this cloud," said the Poker. "I've sat here
many a time and studied China by the hour."

"It's a little too far away for Sleepyhead," said Lefty. "Dormy mustn't be
allowed to strain his eyes."

"Never thought of that," said the Poker. "Of course, I can see a great
deal farther than he can. My, how far I can see! What's the matter with
our pushing the cloud in a little nearer?"

"Nothing--if we can do it," said Righty. "But can we?"

"We can 'wink our eye and try,' as the poet says," returned the Poker.
"Ever heard that poem, Dormy?"

"No," returned Tom. "That is, not that I know of. I've heard lots of
poetry in my life, but it goes in one ear and out of the other."

"You must have a queer head," said the Poker, peering into Tom's ear. "How
a poem poured into one ear can go out of the other I can't understand.
There doesn't seem to be any opening there."

[Illustration: "In one ear and out of the other."]

"His head isn't solid like ours," said Lefty. "It's too bad to be
afflicted the way he is. He ought to do the way a boy I knew once did. He
suffered just as Dormy does. You'd tell him a thing in his left ear and
the first thing you'd know, pop! it would all come out of the other ear
and be lost. The poor fellow was growing up to be an ignoramus. Couldn't
keep a thing in his head, until one night I overheard his father and
mother talking about it in the library. The boy's father wanted to punish
him for not remembering what he learned at school, when his mother said
just what Dormy here said, that everything went in one ear and out of the
other. Then they both looked sad, and the mother rubbed her eyes until
the tears came. I couldn't stand that. If there's one thing in the world
I can't stand it's other people's sorrows. Mine don't amount to much, but
other people's do sometimes. I felt so bad for the poor parents that I
racked and racked my brains trying to think of some way to cure the boy.
It