Mr. Stuckup didn't seem to like that piece at all. Neither did
Jehosophat, for that matter.

"'The boy'"--he began again.

"Gobble, gobble," shrieked the Turkey.

"'Stood on the burning--'"

"Gobble, gobble," again rudely interrupted Mr. Stuckup.

So Jehosophat went around to the side of the house by the Lilac Bush.
He stood up straight and tried it all over again.

"'The boy stood on the burning deck'--_get down, get down_!" he
yelled. Now that was strange. It sounded as if he were telling the boy
to get down off that deck. But it was only Wienerwurst he was talking
to. For, when he made that fine gesture which Teacher had shown them,
Wienerwurst, who had crept up behind him, thought his master was
playing some game, and jumped up at his outstretched fingers.

So once more Jehosophat picked up his reader, and walked over to the
Crying Tree, whose green willow branches trailed in the Pond.

He practised his fine bow for a while, then began. This time he
actually got through the first verse all right, and was quite pleased
with himself. But no sooner had he stopped than he heard behind him--

A loud