The dog licked the crumbs that had fallen onto the ground. “You’re not from here, are you?” “No,” said the dog, “I’m not from here.” “Where do you come from, then?” “From far away,” said the dog. “Are you lost?” The dog thought carefully. There was probably a lot more cake back where she came from. And there were probably all the other tasty things he had dreamed of in windy barns on his travels: crispy chicken skin, bread with liver pâté, cream pudding and milk rice.
“Despite his misery, he realized he had a tasty morsel in his mouth, and his jaw began to quiver. ‘Keep open!’ yelled Doctor De Soto. ‘Wide open!’ yelled his wife.”
“While she waited for the bus she skipped and sang: ‘Jam on biscuits, jam on bread, Jam is the thing I like most, Jam is sticky, jam is sweet, Jam is tasty, jam’s a treat - raspberry, strawberry, gooseberry, I’m very FOND…OF…JAM!’ ”