Magpie was so excited she couldn’t sit still, fluttering around Hare’s living room.
“Magpie, you’re going to knock everything over,” said Hare, steadying one of his lamps.
“Why do you have things like lamps anyway?” asked Raccoon. “It’s not like they work.”
“Work?” said Hare blankly. “What do you mean ‘work’? They’re just lamps.”
“Ah,” said Beaver, “perhaps that is the crux of this issue, Raccoon. Hare, why would you say you keep those lamps in your living room?”
“I don’t know,” said Hare, steadying another one that Magpie’s wing had wobbled. “‘Cause that’s what a living room is supposed to have.”
“Mmmm,” said Beaver, leafing through a book he’d brought. “Ah yes, there we are. And Hare, if you took out the lamps — even temporarily, to protect them while Magpie is so excited…”
“Can we please get to the part where somebody asks me what I’m so excited about?” said Magpie. “This is getting tiring. Not to mention that I’m starting to feel silly.”
“Why don’t you just sit down and wait,” said Dog. “Have one of Hare’s tea-cakes. Then when they’re done with this living room argument you can be excited again. I’ll try to ask about it quick, before Raccoon changes the subject.”
“Why do you think I’m going to change the subject?” asked Raccoon, changing the subject.
“Oh, just a hunch,” said Dog.
“And why do you get to wear a nice collar with fancy decorations, Dog, but none of the rest of us do?” asked Raccoon, changing the subject again.
“As I was TRYING to say,” said Beaver, “would your living room still be a living room if you took out the lamps, Hare?”
“How should I know?” asked Hare. “Why would I want to take out the lamps? Are you saying it would kill my room?”
“Kill your room?” asked Beaver.
“If it stops being a living room, wouldn’t that make it a dead room?” asked Hare.
“I, er…” said Beaver, starting to leaf through his book again.
“Oh, Magpie,” said Dog, “what were you so excited about, anyway?”
“mnot mmmnow, Dog,” said Magpie, whose mouth was full of tea-cake.
“Sorry,” said Dog. “Just wanted to make sure we didn’t forget.”
“Forget what?” asked Raccoon.
“See what I mean?” said Dog.
“I have an excellent memory,” said Raccoon sternly. “I just wanted to know which piece of nonsense you were talking about.”
“That piece where Magpie was so excited Hare thought she’d knock over his lamps,” said Dog.
“The question is,” said Hedgehog, who had been eating tea-cakes the whole time, “what makes them lamps if they don’t work?”
“There’s that word again,” said Hare. “Are you all saying my lamps are supposed to go into the town and get jobs? What would they do?”
“They could light the way,” said Dog. “They have things like that in the town. In my family’s house, too.”
“Things like what?” asked Raccoon.
“Lamps.” said Dog.
“But these aren’t lamps, are they?” asked Hedgehog.
“Ah, here we are,” said Beaver, who had found the page he wanted.
“Light travels at one hundred and eighty-six thousand…”
“Beaver,” said Hare, “are you sure that’s the right page?”
“No, it’s a left page,” said Beaver. “When you’re talking about books, though, that’s called ‘verso’. And the page on the right side is called ‘recto’.”
“What if you turn the book upside-down though?” asked Raccoon.
Beaver started leafing through the book again. “I know I have that in here somewhere,” he said.
“Beaver, what book IS that, anyway?” asked Dog. “How come it has all these weird things in it?”
“It’s my favorite book,” said Beaver. “It’s about manacs, and it tells about ALL of them.”
“What’s a manac?” asked Hare.
“Nothin’, what’s a manac with you?” asked Otter, who hadn’t been there until now. Everybody but Raccoon laughed until they got the hiccups. Then they all finished the rest of the tea cakes.
