“After all, Mr. Sneelock is one of my friends. He might even help out doing small odds and ends. Doing little odd jobs, he could be of some aid... such as selling balloons and the pink lemonade. I think five hundred gallons will be about right. And THEN, I’ll be ready for Opening Night!”
“With his hair still combed neat four thousand, six hundred and ninety-two feet! Then he’ll land in a fish bowl. He’ll manage just fine. Don’t ask how he’ll manage. That’s his job. Not mine.”
“See the Wily Wallo who can throw his long tail as a sort of lasso! With a flip of the hip, with a tail of his kind he can capture whoever is standing behind! He can capture old Sneelock. I’m sure he won’t mind.
“Again Sneelock! Brave Sneelock is back risking life on the patented Life-Risking-Track while the speedsters I call my Colliding-Collusions race round in swift cars called Abrasion-Contusions and Sneelock just lies there. Not one bit excited I know he won’t mind. He’ll be simply delighted.”