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. "Oh,
yes. It's obvious to me that one of you must develop another hobby.
Perhaps rock gathering isn't the wisest hobby for a woman whose
husband collects rock tumblers."
The mayor was about to suggest a specific solution when, to his
surprise, the couple proclaimed in unison, "A brilliant idea!"
Hand-in-hand they walked through the door at the rear of the chamber,
though their voices could be heard rising even as they descended the
stairs. "Now, honey, you should be the one to find a new hobby," the
wife could be heard saying brightly. "At least my gems aren't
worthless!"
"Worthless, dear! Why, rock tumblers are the most valuable
investment --"
But the council was on to other business. Phineas looked up as a
kender burst through the door, pushing a wheelbarrow full of bricks,
his brow sweating. The kender began to explain how his neighbor had
been tossing the bricks from his window and into the kender's own
house one story down. It seemed he didn't mind, since he could use the
bricks. However, they had not stopped at his home, but had fallen
through his apparently thin floor to the house below his, and he was
having a difficult time getting them back from the neighbor below.
Phineas let his chin drop onto his chest, and he promptly fell
asleep.
"Hey, where are my boots?" Barlo Twackdinger demanded suddenly.
He glared down his red-veined, flourdusted nose at the mayor seated to
his right on the Bench of Authority.
"Oh," mumbled Mayor Metwinger, surprised to find the thick,
furred boots in one of his many pockets
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