Freddie was older now, and as time went on it might be thought that he would have grown accustomed to all these strange things; but he had not; far from it; he thought about them more and more, and most of all about the Chinaman's head and the magic tobacco. He really could not get that Chinaman's head out of his mind. Here was magic just within reach of your hand, and you were told that you mustn't touch it. You might as well have Aladdin's lamp in your bureau drawer, and be told to keep away from the bureau; even parents ought to know better than to expect such a thing. Anyway, what harm could just one or two little whiffs do? You needn't smoke a whole pipeful, if you didn't want to. However, Mr. Toby would not be pleased, and Freddie did not intend to do anything to displease Mr. Toby. Still, it did seem a pity, with such a chance right over your head--Oh, well, he would think no more about it; he fixed his mind on other things; he thought especially about a hymn they sang nearly every Sunday in Sunday-school; it was a great help; he knew it by heart, and it went like this: "Yield not to temptation, For yielding is sin, Each vict'ry will help you Some other to win." He resolved he would never think about the magic tobacco again; he went to sleep saying over to himself, "Yield not to temptation," and dreamed all night about the Chinaman's head, and thought about it all the next day. In order to get it out of his mind, he called on Aunt Amanda. It was late in the afternoon; he sat on his hassock and watched Aunt Amanda sewing. Mr. Toby was in the shop, waiting on customers. Freddie watched for a long time, and then said: "What are you doing?" "Basting," said Aunt Amanda. "I thought that was what you did to a turkey," said Freddie. "So it is," said Aunt Amanda. "That isn't a turkey," said Freddie. "No," said Aunt Amanda, "you baste a turkey with gravy." "That isn't gravy," said Freddie. "It's different," said Aunt Amanda. "You see, I have to sew this up with needle and thread, and----" "You sew up a turkey with needle and thread, too," said Freddie. "But that's different," said Aunt Amanda. "You couldn't baste a turkey with needle and thread, and you couldn't baste dress-goods with gravy----" "Why not?" said Freddie. "Well," said Aunt Amanda, "well, you see, they don't do it that way; it's _different_; it ain't the same thing at all; it's like this; when you baste a turkey----" "Have you ever had any children?" said Freddie. Aunt Amanda put her hand to her heart suddenly, as if she had received a shot there, and caught her breath; then she looked out of the window, and then round at the wax flowers on the table, and then at the door, and she really seemed to be thinking of running away. But she was too lame to do that, and she at last clasped her fingers together tight in her lap, and looked hard at Freddie. He was gazing at her calmly, waiting for information.