Word Ways


As I dismounted from my mule in the courtyard in front of the low two-storeyed gray-stone farmhouse, the windowless door opened and out stepped a besmocked Dr. Wombat. Greeting me and my mule with equal cordiality, he ushered the latter into a spacious room on the ground floor and me to a cozy parlor on the second where Mlle, de Carabas was roasting chestnuts. Soon we were all seated before the grateful fire, drinking eggnog, and exchanging news. The masia was about twenty miles inside Spain from Port d'Oo.