“Let me handle this” said Gullet the Ghoul. “The Toll Man can be rather obstreperous at times.”
Intimidated by Gullet’s use of the word ‘obstreperous,’ Tim stood silently by.
“Good evening, Master Toll Man” began Gullet smoothly, addressing the tall, gaunt, bearded figure -- who eyed them morosely. “We are here seeking passage out of the Bog of Sluggery, if you please.”
“Answer my riddle and you may pass. Answer wrong and you’ll eat grass” intoned the Toll Man.
The Toll Man lit a lantern, beckoning them silently to follow him into his stone cottage. All three sat down around a bare pegboard table. The Toll Man stared at Tim and Gullet without saying another word. Gullet tried smiling his wide smile. Tim only felt relief they were out of the clutches of the banksies and slabber bats. And he suddenly realized he was very hungry. He’d had nothing to eat since the Constable seized him back in Boogle Hollow.
The silence grew longer, and colder. Gullet twiddled with his black cravat. When you are invited into someone’s house, and then that someone remains silent, all the etiquette books say you, too, must remain silent until your host chooses to speak. But since Tim had never read an etiquette book, he finally spoke up.
“May we have something to eat before answering your riddle? I can pay with the King’s gold coin.”
“If you would feast before my riddle, I will fire up the griddle” the Toll Man said. He got up to start a fire in the fireplace -- which he did by snapping his fingers. Blue sparks flew from his fingertips to ignite a pile of sticks already laid down. He wasted no time hanging an iron griddle over the flames and cooking them bacon and eggs, and toasting slices of thick white bread. He gave them each a mug of pickle juice to drink.
“Do you have any moon cheese?” asked Gullet. He had not touched the bacon and eggs, and only sniffed at the toasted bread.
“Keeping moon cheese is quite hard -- I keep it out in the backyard.”
When the Toll Man brought in the moon cheese, Tim quickly understood why it was kept outside. It smelled so rotten it made his eyes water.
“Ah!” sighed Gullet. “That’s much better.” And he tucked into the stinky cheese with happy abandon.
As a boy, Tim had disliked riddles. They were too much like the math he had to do at school: “How many sides does a triangle have?” “What is the square root of 4?” “How many pints in a quart?” He never cared to remember the answers to such questions -- they made him yearn for his pole and hooks, and a quiet stream where he could dangle a worm in front of a fish. So he was not looking forward to answering the Toll Man’s riddle. A sudden thought occurred to him, and he acted on it immediately.
“Can I just pay you to pass through your gate without answering any riddles?” he asked the Toll Man, who was chewing a piece of toasted bread so slowly and determinedly that he looked like a cow at its cud.
“Silver and gold are naught to me . . . wait, what? You’ll pay me to let you through?” asked the Toll Man, breaking off his doleful rhyme.
“In the King’s good gold coin!” replied Tim.
Ten minutes later the massive iron gates were closing behind Tim as he looked out over the dim but beautiful rolling countryside ahead of him -- free of banksies and slabber bats and ghouls.
“Wait! Wait for me!” Tim heard from behind him. He turned to see Gullet the Ghoul wiggle through the massive iron gates just before they clanged shut.
“Can . . . can I go with you a ways?” Gullet asked Tim shyly. “I’ve never been outside the Bog before . . . I’m kind of curious to see what’s out here.” He looked down while he dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt.
And so was born the Daring Twosome of lullaby and legend.
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It has been brought to the Author's attention that occasionally a rather large and pretentious word is being thrown into the narrative of Tim Laughingstock. It has been suggested that this practice will discourage young children from attempting to read the story. The Author wishes to state that it is not his design to discourage any child from reading the story. Rather, the Author is hoping that the inclusion of long and difficult words will discourage parents from reading the story out loud to their children in that annoying sing-song voice they so often use when reading to their offspring. The Author considers that this would be a great benefit to the put-upon children of the world.
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