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THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WELL
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"Varroom
burr baboom chuck," he said: "These
are my grandchildren at my feet." Well
Granma was taken aback; she could understand
him .... all except for the first part. "My
name .. Varrrooom bump plopkin chort … is Burrbear," he
said, and he bowed low, with a "buruurrrr" sound.
What’s with all this bowing, thought G. She
would have to get off Mobe to make a polite
introduction. So she said to Mobe "Can
you kneel down on your knees Mobe, so I can
slide off?" Much to her surprise, Mobe
heard and obeyed. Walla! She slid off into
a curtsey and said: "My name is Gran-Ma.
This here is HOO-Leo."  (Click Here for Coloring Page) "Ahhh … pluckin blap ffffurroom, what are those things on your beasts necks?" asked Burrbear. "Oh those, he tee heee," nervously giggled Granma, "those are new fangled adornments for horses' manes." "Horses?" questioned Burrbear, for he had never seen one before. "Yeah, yes, Your Highness, Sir" blubbed Granma, "that is what these huge, wonderful, talking, bowing beasts are called." She was so proud of Mober showing off her talents and bowing down. Pepper would have to learn this trick. Granma whispered to Mobe "Hey, Mobe, you gotta teach Pepper that bowing down on your knees stuff, K?" "K" whispered Mobe’s velvety nose, looking as if only a fly had landed on it. "Vrrroom kerplunk ch … what errand on you on and what is your vision?" asked Burrbear. Granma was thinking of an appropriate answer awhile too long, so J spoke up. "We are on our way to the other side of the Peppermint Mountains, in search of a path," said Julio, and under his breath, a way back into our Earth world with blue skies and my mom. Julio was beginning to have enough adventures to tell his mom and classmates for at least a couple weeks now. "Burrrrrr, brooommm … a path, huh?" sorta asked-said Burrbear. "I don’t know of any path, but I do know this. History tells that no one ever comes back. Oh, they come, they pass on, but I never see them again. No one has ever come back to tell us how to get over the Peppermint Mountains. The Marshies might know, could be." he said flatly, raising a bushy gray beaver eyebrow. "Varrrooomm putt, blurb, sputter . . . well now, for a bite to eat before you get on your way," said Burrbear with a clap of his hands. Polka-dot cats, red & white ones, blue & yellow ones, green and orange ones, brown and blue ones all rushed up out of nowhere. "Set the table, putty-tats, .. burrr, goink gwaddle… for our guests." J was wondering how he could get Pepper to do that neat down on your knees thing, but decided he would just jump off. First of all, he carefully put away his Chips in the basket, collecting the ones on his shoulders and Pepper’s mane. The Chips had stayed very, very still as if they were just ribbons, so that they wouldn’t cause a commotion or fuss. Granma put Mober’s "adornments" away in the baskets too.
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