"Rather a wonderful tale that," continued the Dictionary. "I don't know that I really believe it, though. It's too great a tale for any dog to wag, eh?" "Yes," said Jimmieboy. "I don't think I believe it either. If the zoophagan bit himself in two, I should think he'd have died. I know I would." "No, you wouldn't," said the Dictionary; "because you couldn't. It isn't a question of would and could, but of wouldn't and couldn't. By-the-way, here's a chance for you to learn something. What's the longest letter in the alphabet?" "They're all about the same, aren't they?" asked Jimmieboy. "They look so, but they aren't. L is the longest. An English ell is forty-five inches long. Here's another. What letter does a Chinaman wear on his head?" "Double eye!" cried Jimmieboy. "That's pretty good," said the Dictionary, with an approving nod; "but you're wrong. He wears a Q. And I'll tell you why a Q is like a Chinaman. Chinamen don't amount to a row of beans, and a Q is nothing but a zero with a pig-tail. Do you know why they put A at the head of the alphabet?" "No." "Because Alphabet begins with an A." "Then why don't they put T at the end of it?" asked Jimmieboy. "They do," said the Dictionary. "I-T--it." Jimmieboy laughed to himself. He had no idea there was so much fun in the Dictionary. "Tell me something more," he said. "Let me see. Oh, yes," said the Dictionary, complacently. "How's this? "'Oh, what is a yak, sir?' the young man said; 'I really much wish to hear.' 'A queer-looking cad with a bushy head, A buffalo-robe all over him spread, And whiskers upon his ear.' "And tell me, I pray,' said the boy in drab, Just what's a Thelphusi-an?' 'A great big crab with nippers that nab Whatever the owner desires to grab-- A crusty crustace-an." "'I'm obliged,' said the boy, with a wide, wide smirk, As he slowly moved away. 'Will you tell me, sir, ere I go to work-- To toil till the night brings along its murk-- How high peanuts are to-day?' "And I had to give in, For I couldn't say; And the boy, with a grin, Moved off on his way." "That was my own personal experience," said the Dictionary. "The boy was a very mean boy, too. He went about telling people that there were a great many things I didn't know, which was very true, only he never said what they were, and his friends thought they were important things, like the meaning of sagaciousness, and how many jays are there in geranium, and others. If he'd told 'em that it was things like the price of peanuts, and how are the fish biting to-day, and is your mother's seal-skin sack plush or velvet, that I didn't know, they'd not have thought it disgraceful. Oh, it was awfully mean!" "Particularly after you had told him what those other things were," said Jimmieboy.