CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HENRY MEETS DRICE,
DRAD, DREET AND DROOM,
AND GETS PINCHED
BY DRINCH
Henry felt terribly lonesome. “Help,” he called out,
hoping someone would hear him. “I’m a turtle, I mean a
pickle, that’s lost at sea! What will become of me!”
“Say,” thought Henry, “that gives me a great idea!
I’ll make up a little verse, and see if it helps me out of a
bad situation the way it helped the nice lonesome lady
of the salty tears! Gee, I wish she were here now. She
was good company!”
He started to think up some rhymes when
something swooshed by him in the air.
“What was that?” called Henry.
Again something swooshed by, and said, “I’m a
Drad!”
Another swoosh, and a nice voice said, “I’m a
Drice!”
Swoosh, and another voice said, “I’m a Drinch!”
Then there was nothing.
“Come back!” called Henry. “I didn’t see what you
look like! What are you?”
HENRY
THE
PICKLE
72
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