A Journey of Temperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 9) Read Online Free

for some shuteye. Can we camp down for a short time?”
    ~sigh~ ”If we must. I suppose it is too much to expect you pale, frail little humans to have the uncanny stamina of a Garden Gnomey.”
    ~~~
    “Wake up, you lazy humans! How much rest do ye’ require?”
    “Yessir, Mr. Bottomfeeder, with the sun so high and bright, it don’t engender sleepiness much, does it? I reckon we’re all wakeful and ready to proceed.”
    “My word, but our nimble gnomey does maintain a brisk pace upon his tiny feet, does he not?”
    “Yes Ma’am, Miss Plumtartt, Ma’am. I don’t reckon Mr. Morganstern is used to this outdoorsy life. That tycoon tenderfoot is as timid as a hole-in-the-ice skinny dipper.”
    “Yes, quite so, our stocky stock broker trundles with trepidation, eh hem? Oh, look, Mr. Temperance, I see what appears to be a small cottage. How delightful! Surrounded by colourful flowers, the house conveys a storybook ambiance.”
    “Yes, Ma’am, I think it’s the curly eaves, rounded off peak of the roof, and the bulgy, curved, and rounded doors, windows and walls that give it that fairy tale forest hut appearance.”
    “Look here, Mr. Temperance, there are more such homes scattered about built in the same manner. Each cottage is more delightful than the last, wouldn’t you say, eh hem?”
    “Yes, Ma’am. I like everybody’s flower gardens. Say, look there, I see a little statue of a human holding a bouquet of flowers.”
    “Aye, Ickity, t’is what’s called a ‘yard jockey’. Some people go for them, but I finds them tacky.”
    “And here is y’all’s little town of Saggy Bough. Golly, look at all the Gnomeys, Miss Plumtartt.”
    “Why, there are hundreds of pointy-hatted peoples of gnomish descent in the midst of great celebration, sir.”
    “Hey-low, hey-low, my Gnomey Homeys! Look, look, look! I have found me a trio of mythic humans! They are fabled myth in the flesh!”
    “Howdy, y’all, we are humans and we come in peace. How are you all doing today?”
    “Tee, hee! He speaks of days, as if there is more than one! Tee, hee!”
    “Hoddily, hoddily oh, how we all gasp in awe and wonder! T’is a marvelous thing to see a real human. Where did ye’ find them, Barnabus?”
    “Wandering the high meadows, Jebidebidibbidus.”
    “And what then do we do with our guests as are these?”
    “We introduce them to Burgermeister McCheese!”
    “Welcome to Sagging Bough, my human friends. It is an honour to have you visit our humble village. What are your names, please?”
    “Harumph, I am J.P Morganstern. The J.P. Morganstern. I demand to be escorted to your telegraph station that I can see to my immediate removal from this awful place.”
    “My word, please pay no attention to my rude companion. My name is Plumtartt, Persephone Plumtartt. I am thrilled to meet you all and to be an envoy of the people of Earth. I present you my less obnoxious companion, Mr. Ichabod Temperance.”
    “Gee whiz, it sure is swell for y’all to come out and greet us.”
    “What did ye’ say ye’re name were boy?”
    “My name is Ichabod, sir.”
    “Ho, ho! Ichabod! The little man’s name is Ichabod, my friends!”
    Icky, Icky, Ichabod.
    His face is as blank,
    as a dirt clod.
    His head bobs about,
    as on a rod,
    Oh, Icky, Icky, Ichabod!
    “Bah, stop all your happy dancing, you merry little munchkins! I am a very important man.”
    With a furrowed brow,
    and condescending smirk,
    He’s repugnant, and how,
    because he’s such a jerk.
    His glance will wither,
    the heartiest fern,
    stay away from my sister,
    J.P. Morganstern!
    “I applaud your natural instincts, my adopted Gnomeys.”
    Her eyes, how they twinkle,
    the blue wonders give a wink.
    This lovely girl is in contrast,
    to the industrial fink.
    Morganstern has the allure,
    of a bovine fart.
    Splendor is the aura,
    of Persephone Plumtartt!
    “Ahoy, ahoy, adorn our new friends in garlands of pretty flowers, my Gnomeys! There, now we are ready to sing our song of