"Y-y-yes, s-s-sir."

His lip quivered like the lemon jelly in the spoon, that time he was
so sick. If he had fallen from that shoulder, he would have dropped as
far as if he had been thrown from the top gilt pinnacle of the
Woolworth Building. And so tremendous was the Giant's voice that when
he talked the whole earth seemed to shake, and Marmaduke shook with it
as if he were blown about by a mighty wind.

"Now," the Giant was saying in that great voice like thunder, "you
want to know what I'm heating up this furnace for?"

"Y-y-yes," replied Marmaduke, his lips still trembling like the lemon
jelly.

"You see it's this way," the Giant tried to explain, "my old friend,
Mr. Sun, keeps the outside of the Earth warm, but I keep the inside
nice and comfy."

It seemed strange to hear the Giant use that word, "comfy." It is a
word that always seems to sound small, and the Giant was so huge.

"I haven't seen my chum, Mr. Sun, for quite a spell," the Giant went
on, "let me see--it was the other day when I last saw him."

"What day?" asked Marmaduke, "last Sunday?"

"Oh, no, a little before that. I guess it was about a million years
ago."