"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 of narrating the most thrilling story of the American revolutionary war that anybody ever dreamed of?" "O dear, O dear, O dear!" said Tom. "What shall I do?" As he spoke, from far down in the valley there seemed to come a crash and a roar, following close upon which the barking of a dog made itself heard. "The ice is slipping," cried the Poker, as the mountain trembled beneath them. "There's going to be an avalanche, and we're on it!" The whole top of the mountain shook as if it had been in an earthquake, and then it began to crash rapidly downward. "Dear me! How annoying," observed the Bellows. "As if we haven't had enough coasting this trip without taking a turn on an avalanche." "But what shall we do?" roared the Andirons excitedly. "I never foresaw this." "Slide, I guess," said the Poker calmly. "It's all we can do." The barking of the dog approached closer. "Good!" cried Righty, clapping his claws together gleefully, as an idea flashed across his mind. "It's one of those famous St. Bernards; he'll take care of Tom, and as for us--" The thunderous roar of the descending avalanche drowned the sounds of Righty's voice, and all that could now serve as a means of conveying their thoughts to each other was the making of wild motions with the hands. The Poker stood erect and stiff, looking grimly ahead of him, as if resolved to meet his fate bravely; the Bellows threw himself flat upon the glacier and panted; while the two Andirons, standing guard on either side of Tom, peered anxiously about for the rescuer of their little guest, nor did they look in vain, for in a few moments the huge figure of a St Bernard appeared below them, rushing with all his might and main to their side. For some reason or other, the St Bernard seemed to have something familiar about him, but Tom couldn't quite say what it was. "Bow-wow-wow!" the dog barked gleefully, for this was just the sort of work he most enjoyed.