"Ha, soda. I don't know that I have anything in the line of soda."
"No soda?" exclaimed Frank.
"I mean I haven't made up any poetry about that. I have about almost everything else in my store. Let me see—soda—soda"
He seemed searching for a rhyme.
"Pagoda! Pagoda!" laughed Betty.
"That is it!" exclaimed Mr Lagg. "Thank you for the suggestion. Let me see, now. How would this do?
"If you wish to drink of Lagg's fine soda,
Just take your seat in a Chinese pagoda!"
"Very good," complimented Will. "We'll dispense with the pagoda if you will dispense the soda."
"Ha! Good again! You are a punster, I see!"
Mr. Lagg laughed genially, and soon provided the party with bottles of deliciously cool soda, and straws through which to partake of it, glasses being voted too prosaic.
There came a protest from Paul, who was sharing the treat.
"I tan't dit no sody!" he cried. "It all bubbles up!"
