A couple of years ago, in a henhouse, little Sonk built a uranium boiler…
Our Lemuel has three legs, and we called him Irresistible Little One. When the war between the North and the South began, Lemuel was already grown up, and he had to hide the extra leg between his shoulder blades so as not to arouse suspicion and gossip. The leg, tucked under his clothes on his back, made him look like a camel; sometimes it twitched from fatigue and struck his spine—but none of this bothered Lemuel too much. After all, they took him for an ordinary two-legged person! And he was happy.
We, the Hogbens, have gotten into trouble more than once in our lives. Now the whole trouble started because of the carelessness of Irresistible Little One. He treated everything lightly.
We hadn’t seen Lemuel for about sixty years. He lived in the mountains in the South, while our whole family was in North Kentucky. At first we decided to reach him by air, but when we flew near Pipeville, the dogs on the ground barked incredibly loudly, the residents rushed out of their houses and stared at the sky. We had to go back. Dad’s pa said we’d have to go visit him the usual way—like all people. I don’t like traveling either over land or by sea. When we sailed to Plymouth Rock in 1620, my whole soul was turned inside out. It’s much more pleasant to fly! But with my grandfather, we never argued—dad’s pa was the head of the family…