"'And you may call to-morrow-- Even though you're choco-late!' But pshaw! He never came, because That cooky man was ate!" Bob laughed right out loud, and Notta, who had been trying to make Bob merry, tossed his cap triumphantly into the air. "Very good," murmured the Cowardly Lion, waving his tail gently, "except that last line. 'Was ate.' Isn't that a bit ungrammatical, even for Oz?" "There you go getting unish," teased Notta. "I guess I can be ungrammatical in Un." "Notta! Notta! I've got another bite," screamed Bob, hopping about on one foot. That finished the argument. "Hope it's a bite for me," said the Cowardly Lion. Then he gave a little roar of surprise, for over the edge of the skyle came a dog--as dear and shaggy a little bow-wow as had ever barked at an ice man. The hook had caught neatly in its collar and, though it was a little out of breath, it was otherwise unhurt. "Well," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, rising on his haunches, "so this is breakfast? Bob, what do you mean by catching a dog for my breakfast?" "Oh, please," whimpered the dog, rolling its soft eyes in terror. "You wouldn't eat a little fellow who was only out for a walk, would you?" He sat up and begged so prettily Bob caught him up in his arms and hugged him. "Oh, Notta, may I keep him? I've never had a dog!" "Well, now," said the clown, scratching his ear, "I don't see why not." "Don't keep me," wailed the dog piteously, "for I belong to a little boy on another star, and he would miss me very much." "What kind of a dog are you?" gasped the clown, staring at the little creature. "What do you mean by taking a walk through the sky, and living on a star?" "I am a skye terrier," answered the little dog, looking anxiously from one to the other. "You wouldn't hurt a little fellow like me, would you?" "But how will you get home?" asked Notta. "Just throw me back into the air," barked the dog, and licked Bob on the nose so coaxingly he couldn't bear to refuse, though his heart was heavy at the thought of losing him. "I guess that other little boy would miss you," sighed Bob. So, kissing the shaggy little terrier right on the nose, he dropped him gently over the edge of the skyle, and as they watched he scampered hurriedly over a cloud and then along through the sky, as easily as if he had been on land instead of air. He paused once and looked over his shoulder, then with a joyful bark and wave of his tail ran off, vanishing like a speck in the distance. Notta, seeing that Bob was down-hearted at losing the little fellow, suggested that they start fishing again. "Who knows what we may catch this time?" exclaimed the clown, pushing back his cap, and snapping his line energetically. Almost at once both lines became taut, and when they were drawn up, two shiny silver packages fell from the slender hooks. "Dreams for a little boy," said a small label on Bob's package. "Dreams for a big boy," said the label on Notta's package.