Dot shook hands with him, of course; but it made her shiver a little, the hand felt so soft and flabby; and when she withdrew her own hand she noticed upon it a fine white powder like flour. This she brushed off, but the little man laughed and said. "It's only powdered sugar, my dear. I'm obliged to keep myself covered with it, you know, so I won't stick to things." "But--but I don't understand," stammered the girl. "Aren't you made like other people?" "Certainly; I am made like everyone I have ever seen until I met you and this little boy. It strikes me you are the ones who are queerly made. You don't seem to be candy at all." "Oh no!" said Dot, in a matter-of-fact way. "We're just flesh and blood and bones." "And clothes," added Tot, who was looking with greedy eyes at the strange little man. "Well, well!" said the man, thoughtfully tapping the ground with his cane; "what strange creatures you must be. In this Valley everyone is made of candy." "And everything else is candy," exclaimed the little woman, who was peering over the man's shoulder and had not spoken before. "Oh yes; everything we know of is candy except the river," continued the man. "Are you candy?" asked Tot, with wide open eyes. "To be sure. My bones are all made of stick candy and my flesh is marshmallow. That is why I must keep myself covered with powdered sugar; otherwise I would melt or stick to everything I touched. My wife is made in the same way, and we are very proud to know we are very pure and wholesome." "What do you eat?" asked Tot, curiously. "We eat candy, of course; that is what makes us so fat. Candy is very fattening, you know," said the little man cheerfully. "But you haven't any teeth," remarked Dot, who had noticed this fact. "Teeth! Certainly not. No one can eat much candy and still have teeth. Haven't you heard that candy always destroys a person's teeth?" "I've been told so," replied Dot. "But we get along very nicely without them. Indeed, our lives are decidedly sweet and peaceful." Just then they heard a shrill scream, and at once the woman rushed toward the house, running in a very comical manner because she was so short and fat. "That's the voice of our youngest child, the baby," explained the man. "I fear some accident has happened to it. One of our greatest troubles is that we cannot depend upon our colored servants, who are chocolate. Chocolates can seldom be depended on, you know." "I hope nothing serious has happened to your baby," said Dot, with ready sympathy. "Probably not," answered the candy man. "But I hope you will now permit me to escort you to my house. You must be hungry; and I will have luncheon served at once." "Thank you," said Dot. So, led by their fat little host, who waddled as he walked in a way that made Tot laugh, they went to the house and were ushered into the front parlor.