“Time plays tricks between here and home," said Mogget sepulchrally, frightening the life out of the telephone operator.”

“As for you, Private, if you mention a word of this to anyone, I'll feed you to the cat thing here. Understand?""Yum," said Mogget."Yes, sir!" mumbled the telephone operator, his hands shaking as he tried to smother the burning wreckage of his switchboard with a fire blanket.”

“I can see time," whispered Mogget, so softly that his words were lost.”

“Why, Yrael?” it said, as the last of the dark gave way to silver, and the shining sphere of metal sank slowly to the ground. “Why?”“Life,” said Yrael, who was more Mogget than it ever knew. “Fish and fowl, warm sun and shady trees, the field mice in the wheat, under the cool light of the moon.”

“This? It's a feather-coin. I made it.''What is it for?''It isn't for anything. It's a toy.''It's for annoying people,' said Mogget from Sam's pack. 'If you don't put it away, I shall eat it.”

“Fine!" muttered Mogget. "Wet, cold, and full of holes. Another fun day on the river.”

“A Kiss," said Mogget sleepily. "Actually, just a breath would do. But you have to start kissing someone sometime, I suppose.""A breath?" she asked. She didn't want to kiss just any wooden man. He looked nice enough, but he might not be like his looks. A kiss seemed too forward.”