this path he stubbed his toe and fell down. Then Dot saw him pick up a piece of the brown path that had become loosened, and after looking at it a moment put it into his mouth.
"Don't do that, Tot!" called the girl, in horror. "You mustn't eat mud."
"T'ain't mud," said Tot, with his mouth full. "It's fudge."
"Fudge!" echoed Dot. "You must be crazy, Tot." But she tasted a small piece herself and found that Tot was right. It was very nice fudge, too.
Just then as Dot was looking curiously toward the house, she saw the door open and a little man come out, followed the next moment by a little woman. They were not only very little, but short and very fat. The man wore a tall hat, a swallow-tail coat and tight breeches; but all his garments seemed fastened to him in some way, as if they were not made to come off, and their bright colors looked to have been painted on. The woman's dress had the same appearance, and the big Shaker bonnet she wore seemed really a part of her head.
When these people saw Dot and Tot, they stopped short and looked at each other in surprise; but the man seemed soon to recover himself and walked quickly toward the children, swinging a candy cane in his hand as he came.
"Good morning, my dears," he said, pleasantly.
"Good morning," answered Dot.
"Mornin'," said Tot.
"Will you kindly tell us how you came here?" continued the fat little man. "You must excuse my curiosity, but I cannot remember ever having seen any real children before."
"Our boat brought us," said Dot. "We're drifting down the river and have to go wherever it takes us."
"Oh, I see," said the man. "Well, since you are here, permit me to welcome you to the Valley of Bonbons," and he reached out his hand, with a graceful bow, to the little girl.
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.
The room was beautifully furnished; but the chairs, tables,
pictures and ornaments were all composed of candy of some sort, and there was a fragrant odor of wintergreen, peppermint and rose about the room that made Tot's mouth water in delightful anticipation. The boy seated himself in a pretty pink and white chair, and Dot sat down upon a small sofa; but happening to remember the sofa was candy, she quickly arose and remained standing, although she was also a little afraid of the sticky floor, which seemed to be well powdered.