"I'll save them," said Jimmieboy. And then he started off on a run down the road, and ere long stood face to face with the Gas Stove. The latter immediately threw down his hose, turned off the gas, and clasped Jimmieboy to his heart. "Saved! Saved!" he cried. "I have found you at last. Dear me, how anxious I have been about you!" And then he burst out in song: "But now, O joy? My averdupoy Will steadily increase; For, now you're back, My woes will pack Their clothes in their valise, "And fly afar, To the uttermost star That shines up in the skies, While you and I Will warble high The gleesomest of cries. "We'll sing and sing, And warble and sing, And warble, and sing, and sing, And warble and sing, And sing, sing, sing, And warble and sing, sing, sing," "Come off!" ejaculated the voice. "That's mighty poor poetry for a Stove that's as glad as you are." "Why, Jimmieboy, you pain me," said the Gas Stove, who thought that it was his little friend that had spoken. "I didn't think you would criticize my song of happiness that way." "I never said a word," said Jimmieboy. "It was my friend the voice, who helped me when I was in trouble, and----" "And by whose efforts," interrupted the voice, "our Jimmieboy here is now the Right Honorable Jamesboy. Secretary of State to his Majesty the Emperor of Frostland, Prince of Iceberg, Marquis Thawberry, and Chief Ice-cream Freezer to all the crowned heads of Europe, Asia, Africa, Austrilia and New Jersey. I'd advise you to take off your hat, Mr. Stove, for you are in the presence of a great man." "No, no," cried Jimmieboy, as the Gas Stove doffed his iron lid; "don't take off your hat to me, Stovey. I am all that he says, but I am still Jimmieboy, and your friend." "But what becomes of your war?" queried the Gas Stove, ruefully. "I can't fight against you, and you are a part of the government." "That's a very sensible conclusion," said the voice. "Only I wouldn't let King Jack know that, or he wouldn't ever let Jimmieboy go away from here. What you want to do is to make terms that will be satisfactory to both parties, get Jack Frost to agree to 'em, and there you are. If he won't agree, the Gas Stove will have to go on with the war until he does agree." "That's the thing to do, I suppose," said the Stove. "What shall I insist upon, Mr. Secretary?" "Well, I think Jack ought to quit biting babies, no matter if he does love 'em," said Jimmieboy. "I insist upon it," said the Gas Stove, firmly. "I think, too," said Jimmieboy, "that he ought not to run off with so many flowers." "If you do not agree to that, Mr. Secretary," returned the Stove, "I shall turn on my canned devastation again." "I shall endeavor to secure the King's consent," replied Jimmieboy. "And, furthermore, he must keep away from the water-pipes in my papa's house. He froze 'em all up last winter." "That is my ultimatum," said the Stove.