are good to eat, but have no other purpose.”
“We should have told him we were taking the bottle,”argued Sot.
“That would only have caused him more pain,”rebutted Fillip.
“He will be angry with us.”
“He will be pleased.”
“I think we should look at the bottle again.”
“Will you stop… ?”
“Just to be certain that it is still all right.”
“… asking that same… ?”
“Just to be sure.”
Fillip sighed a deep, wheezy sigh that sent dust flying from their burrow entrance. Sot sneezed. Fillip glanced at him and blinked. Sot blinked back.
“Perhaps just for a very, very brief moment,”said Fillip finally.
“Yes, just for a moment,”agreed Sot.
Their wrinkled, grimy fingers pawed at the cluster of sticks and leaves that concealed a narrow hole they had dug in the earth directly before them. When the clutter was pushed aside, they reached in together and gingerly extracted a cloth-bound bundle. Holding it close, they loosened the wrappings and pulled out the bottle.
Carefully, they set it on the ground in front of their noses, its painted white surface gleaming faintly, its red harlequins at their dance. Two pairs of gnome eyes glittered with excitement.
“Such a pretty thing,”whispered Fillip.
“Such a beautiful treasure,”echoed Sot.
They stared at it some more. The allotted moment stretched into several and then into many. Still they stared, transfixed.
“I wonder if there is anything inside,”mused Fillip.
“I wonder,”mused Sot.
Fillip reached out and shook the bottle gently. The harlequins seemed to dance faster. “It seems empty,”he said.
Sot shook it as well. “It does,”he agreed.
“But it is difficult to tell without looking,”said Fillip.
“Yes, difficult,”said Sot.
“We might be mistaken,”said Fillip.
“We might,”said Sot.
They sniffed it and pawed it and studied it in silence for long moments, turning it this way and that, moving itabout, trying to learn something more of its contents. Finally Sot began poking at the stopper. Fillip moved the bottle quickly away.
“We agreed to open it later,”he pointed out.
“Later is too long,”countered Sot.
“We agreed to open it when we were safely home.”
“Home is too far away. Besides, we are quite safe right here.”
“We agreed.”
“We could re-agree.”
Fillip felt his resolve begin to slip. He was as anxious as Sot to discover what, if anything, was concealed within their precious bottle. They could open it—just for a moment—then close it again. They could look down its neck, take just a quick peek…
But what if whatever was within the bottle spilled out in the dark and was lost?
“No,”said Fillip firmly. “We agreed. We will open the bottle when we are home again and not before.”
Sot glowered at him, then sighed his defeat. “When we are home and not before,”he echoed with measurable dejection.
They lay without talking for a time, staring at the bottle. They blinked their eyes weakly, trying to keep it in focus, their sight so poor that they could barely do so. G'home Gnomes relied almost entirely on their other senses to tell them what was happening about them. Their eyes were practically useless.
The bottle sat there, a vaguely luminescent oval against the dark. When the stopper wiggled experimentally in its seating, they missed it completely.
“I suppose we should put it away,”said Fillip finally.
“I suppose,”sighed Sot.
They reached for the bottle.
“Hsssstt!”
Fillip looked at Sot. Sot looked at Fillip. Neither had spoken.
“Hsssstt!”
It was the bottle. The hissing sound was coming from the bottle.
“Hsssstt! Set me free, masters!”
Fillip and Sot froze, ferretlike faces twisted into masks of terror. The bottle was talking!
“Masters, open the bottle! Let me come out!”
Fillip and Sot jerked their extended hands back as one and scrunched down into their burrow until nothing showed but the tips of their noses. Had they been
“We should have told him we were taking the bottle,”argued Sot.
“That would only have caused him more pain,”rebutted Fillip.
“He will be angry with us.”
“He will be pleased.”
“I think we should look at the bottle again.”
“Will you stop… ?”
“Just to be certain that it is still all right.”
“… asking that same… ?”
“Just to be sure.”
Fillip sighed a deep, wheezy sigh that sent dust flying from their burrow entrance. Sot sneezed. Fillip glanced at him and blinked. Sot blinked back.
“Perhaps just for a very, very brief moment,”said Fillip finally.
“Yes, just for a moment,”agreed Sot.
Their wrinkled, grimy fingers pawed at the cluster of sticks and leaves that concealed a narrow hole they had dug in the earth directly before them. When the clutter was pushed aside, they reached in together and gingerly extracted a cloth-bound bundle. Holding it close, they loosened the wrappings and pulled out the bottle.
Carefully, they set it on the ground in front of their noses, its painted white surface gleaming faintly, its red harlequins at their dance. Two pairs of gnome eyes glittered with excitement.
“Such a pretty thing,”whispered Fillip.
“Such a beautiful treasure,”echoed Sot.
They stared at it some more. The allotted moment stretched into several and then into many. Still they stared, transfixed.
“I wonder if there is anything inside,”mused Fillip.
“I wonder,”mused Sot.
Fillip reached out and shook the bottle gently. The harlequins seemed to dance faster. “It seems empty,”he said.
Sot shook it as well. “It does,”he agreed.
“But it is difficult to tell without looking,”said Fillip.
“Yes, difficult,”said Sot.
“We might be mistaken,”said Fillip.
“We might,”said Sot.
They sniffed it and pawed it and studied it in silence for long moments, turning it this way and that, moving itabout, trying to learn something more of its contents. Finally Sot began poking at the stopper. Fillip moved the bottle quickly away.
“We agreed to open it later,”he pointed out.
“Later is too long,”countered Sot.
“We agreed to open it when we were safely home.”
“Home is too far away. Besides, we are quite safe right here.”
“We agreed.”
“We could re-agree.”
Fillip felt his resolve begin to slip. He was as anxious as Sot to discover what, if anything, was concealed within their precious bottle. They could open it—just for a moment—then close it again. They could look down its neck, take just a quick peek…
But what if whatever was within the bottle spilled out in the dark and was lost?
“No,”said Fillip firmly. “We agreed. We will open the bottle when we are home again and not before.”
Sot glowered at him, then sighed his defeat. “When we are home and not before,”he echoed with measurable dejection.
They lay without talking for a time, staring at the bottle. They blinked their eyes weakly, trying to keep it in focus, their sight so poor that they could barely do so. G'home Gnomes relied almost entirely on their other senses to tell them what was happening about them. Their eyes were practically useless.
The bottle sat there, a vaguely luminescent oval against the dark. When the stopper wiggled experimentally in its seating, they missed it completely.
“I suppose we should put it away,”said Fillip finally.
“I suppose,”sighed Sot.
They reached for the bottle.
“Hsssstt!”
Fillip looked at Sot. Sot looked at Fillip. Neither had spoken.
“Hsssstt!”
It was the bottle. The hissing sound was coming from the bottle.
“Hsssstt! Set me free, masters!”
Fillip and Sot froze, ferretlike faces twisted into masks of terror. The bottle was talking!
“Masters, open the bottle! Let me come out!”
Fillip and Sot jerked their extended hands back as one and scrunched down into their burrow until nothing showed but the tips of their noses. Had they been
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