Within a few months doodle had learned to walk well and his go-cart was put up in the barn loft (it’s still there) beside his little mahogany coffin. now, when we roamed off together, resting often, we never turned back until our destination had been reached, and to pass the time, we took up lying. from the beginning doodle was a terrible liar and he got me in the habit. had anyone stopped to listen to us, we would have been sent off to dix hill.