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one travels, he may find some new country at every turn, and a good many of
them have never yet been put upon the maps."
"
P'raps this is one of them," suggested Trot.
They reached the house after a brisk walk and Cap'n Bill knocked upon the
door. It was at once opened by a rugged looking man who had "bumps all over
him," as Trot afterward declared. There were bumps on his head, bumps on
his body and bumps on his arms and legs and hands. Even his fingers had
bumps on the ends of them. For dress he wore an old gray suit of fantastic
design, which fitted him very badly because of the bumps it covered but could
not conceal.
But the Bumpy Man's eyes were kind and twinkling in expression and as soon
as he saw his visitors he bowed low and said in a rather bumpy voice:
"
Happy day! Come in and shut the door, for it grows cool when the sun goes
down. Winter is now upon us."
"
"
Why, it isn't cold a bit, outside," said Trot, "so it can't be winter yet."
You will change your mind about that in a little while," declared the Bumpy
Man. "My bumps always tell me the state of the weather, and they feel just
now as if a snowstorm was coming this way. But make yourselves at home,
strangers. Supper is nearly ready and there is food enough for all."
Inside the house there was but one large room, simply but comfortably
furnished. It had benches, a table and a fireplace, all made of stone. On the
hearth a pot was bubbling and steaming, and Trot thought it had a rather
nice smell. The visitors seated themselves upon the benches--except the Ork.
which squatted by the fireplace--and the Bumpy Man began stirring the kettle
briskly.
"
"
May I ask what country this is, sir?" inquired Cap'n Bill.
Goodness me--fruit-cake and apple-sauce!--don't you know where you are?"
asked the Bumpy Man, as he stopped stirring and looked at the speaker in
surprise.
"
"
"
No," admitted Cap'n Bill. "We've just arrived."
Lost your way?" questioned the Bumpy Man.
Not exactly," said Cap'n Bill. "We didn't have any way to lose."
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