"I couldn't get a boy who would consent to spend his life in the showcase. I could get all the corks I wanted, but no boy, and so I had to give it up," replied Lefty, with a sigh. "I'd have been a rich Andiron today if I could have had that idea patented. I shouldn't be surprised if I'd have had enough to have Righty and the Poker and myself goldplated." "Oh, well, I wouldn't feel bad about that," said the Poker. "What's the use? You're bright as any gold that ever shined and you are quite as useful. Gold may be worth more than you are, but what of it? The people who bought you are willing to change their gold for you, so that really puts you ahead. As for myself I wouldn't be gold if I could. Gold Pokers aren't worth anything as Pokers, and what's more, if I were gold Tom's father would lock me up in the safe every night and then I couldn't travel about the way I do." "Never thought of it in that light," said Lefty. "I'm glad I'm brass, after all." "But you were going to tell us a poem, weren't you?" asked Tom. "Yes," said the Poker. "It's a simple little verse, but there is a good deal of fine advice in it. All it says is: "If you're in doubt if you can do A thing some one has asked you to, Don't sit you down and moan and cry Because you can't, but wink your eye And try." "There's good advice enough for a lifetime in that, Dormy," said the Righthandiron. "And now let's see if we can move the cloud." The four little creatures set out at once to push the cloud nearer to the earth so that Tom could see the latter going around more clearly, but their efforts were in vain. The cloud wouldn't budge an inch. "No use," said the Poker, panting with his exertion. "There is only one thing to do now and that is to send for the Bellows. If he'll come and blow in his usual style we'll have that cloud where we want it in less than no time. I'd blow it there myself, for I am a far better blower than the Bellows is--my, how I can blow! But I'm out of breath trying to push the cloud." "I'll run back and get the Bellows," said Lefty. "And I'll go with you," said Righty. "He may not come for one, but I'm sure he will for two." "All right," said the Poker. "Dormy and I will wait here for you; and I'll tell him a story while you're gone. How will that suit you Dormy?" "First rate," said Tom. "I like stories." "We'll be back soon," said the Righthandiron, as he and the other started back after the Bellows. "So make your story short." "Very good," returned the Poker amiably. "I'll make it so short that Dormy will hardly know that it was ever begun." And so Tom was left sitting on a big cloud way up in the sky with the Poker--which was indeed a very novel position for a small boy like him to be in. CHAPTER IV. The Poker Tells His Story