The Talking Lollipop /p2
While Billy was wondering about it, he heard the voice again. This time it said, "Aren't you going to talk to me, young fella?"
"Who are you?" asked Billy, looking at the empty seat.
"I'm a lollipop," said the voice.
"But lollipops can't talk," said Billy.
"Can't they?" The voice laughed a sugary sort of laugh.
"Where are you?" asked Billy.
"I'm hiding. Come and find me," said the voice.
Then Billy hunted all over the car seat next to the cross-looking man, and under it too, for the voice seemed to jump around. But he couldn't find anything. He was just about to give up when the voice called, "Look up here on the window sill. Maybe you'll find me there."
Billy climbed over the cross man's feet. He was still reading his paper so he didn't seem to notice. But the window sill was empty.
"Oh dear!" sighed the boy. "You must be a walking lollipop as well as a talking one."
"Perhaps I am," said the voice. "Look in the big man's pocket. Maybe I'm there."
Sure enough. The voice seemed to come from the pocket and there was a bulge in it that looked just like a lollipop.
But Billy said: "I can't put my hand in someone else's pocket. That wouldn't be polite."
"Ask the big man," said the voice. "Maybe he'll let you."
Billy saw that the big man didn't look so cross now. So he said politely, "Would you care if I put my hand in your pocket, please?"
"What?" asked the big man in a deep voice. He looked over the edge of his newspaper at Billy.
"Would you care," repeated Billy, "if I put my hand in your pocket?"