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

Tribute.”
    “Hooray!”
    How can we be so lucky?
    I don’t know.
    We live a perfect life,
    In Sagging Bough.
     
    Shining Sun above,
    solid ground belows,
    Go barefoot in the meadow
    you gets a cow patty ‘tween the toes.
     
    To live a life so nice,
    requires sacrifice.
    Virtues we extol,
    To appease our Troll.
     
    Warm Sun above,
    Our hearts are full of love.
    A better life we’ll never know,
    Than the glory of Sagging Bough.
     
    “Uh, that sure is a pretty little song, y’all, but, uh, did I hear y’all mention a troll in there somewheres?”
     
    Through the woods
    past the ridge,
    living beneath,
    Billy Goat bridge.
     
    Part avalanche roll,
    and geologic mutt,
    He’s our own troll,
    GraniteButte.
     
    He watches over us
    with eyes of coal,
    an occasional maiden
    is his only toll.
     
    “Leapin’ Limestone Landlords, Miss Plumtartt, these poor folks are languishing under the oppressive tyranny of a bloodthirsty monster what lives off the blood of their innocent daughters!”
    “Indeed, Mr. Temperance. I now am able to fully interpret their use of the word ‘Tribute’. I say, are we expecting this fellow, ‘GraniteButte’, for imminent arrival, eh hem?”
    “Aye, lassie! Hark ye’ toward yonder forest.”
    Casting trees aside,
    crushing rocks to gravel.
    There is no disguising,
    his noise of travel.
    Animals flee the tread,
    of the walking boulder,
    Except the vultures,
    resting on his shoulder.
    His choice of maiden,
    is an occasional must,
    lest we all,
    be ground to dust.
    He is the one thing,
    that we fear,
    Everybody act happy;
    he is here!
    “Grumble, rumble, fumbledy bum, I wants me Tribute, that’s why I’ve come.”
    “Hail, oh great troll GraniteButte! We are so happy to welcome you in this time of Tribute! See how we celebrate this joyous time in which we present you our young to choose from for your dinner.”
    “I wants me Tribute. ~sniff, sniff~ Hey, I smell something I have never smelled before.”
    “We are visited by mythical creatures, your Trollness. Here are three humans!”
    “Don’t lie to me, little Gnomey! There is no such thing as humans!”
    “Howdy, there Mr. Grannybutt Trollman.”
    “Roar! I am GraniteButte! I am a mighty Troll! Do not call me Grannybutt!”
    “Eep! Sorry, sir! My name is Ichabod Temperance. This here is Miss Persephone Plumtartt and Mr. J.P. Morganstern. We are visitors to your world. It sure is nice to meet you, sir. I ain’t never talked with no rock before, leastwise, one what would answer me back.”
    “I say, I cannot stand idly by while you take an innocent maiden to be sacrificed. Retire from this field, GraniteButte, there will be no Tribute for you today, sir.”
    “Today?”
    “Forgive me, I am still in the process of climatizing to your idioms. I should say, you will receive no Tribute at this time.”
    “You dare to defy me! Actually, you are a very becoming female. Despite your freakish human form, I find you attractive. I shall take you, human woman known as Persephone Plumtartt, to be my Tribute!”
    “Oh no you ain’t neither, Mr. GraniteButte! You better leave her alone!”
    ~kick, kick, punch, punch~
    “Are you striking me? Silly human, get out of my way.”
    ~flick!~
    “Mr. Temperance! You horrible monster! You have struck Mr. Temperance unconscious! Oh! Now you snatch me up and bear me away against my will!”
    Isn’t this wonderful
    isn’t this fine.
    GraniteButte has someone else
    on which to dine.
    That girl was a real looker,
    a real beauty,
    this has been the greatest,
    time of Tributey!

Chapter Three:
Bridge of Sorrow.
        Frae the petals sprang life,
        both common and rare,
        fire, water, air and earth.
     
        Through victory and strife,
        rendered ugly and fair,
        even rock and stone gave birth.
                           -From the Epoch of Enauck
     
    “ Oooh, where am I?”
    “The lovely hamlet of Sagging Bough in Middle o’ Earthhe. Dinnae make me