Sad? That must be a misconception!
While I look at my own perception.
I see all kinds of muck and junk
Rubbish and dross and things to bunk.
Out! Out with these, and I will strive
To make my spirit more alive.
At last Bobby Box remembered that he was really only a drawing, or - to put it more exactly - merely the personification of an idea, and that the painter Babe Walker had created him with a little piece of charcoal on the basis of sudden inspiration as an improvised sketch on the empty wall of his attic in the town of Greenville. He remembered too that that studio up there was very depressing and shabby and that, like most artists, the bohemien must have been hungry. Greenville couldn't be that far away any more as Bobby had been travelling for several days since the mouse trap catastrophe and the great disappointment with the lovely dancer Marygold! So he decided to make for his creator and master. Who knows whether he mightn't be of use to the poor chap in these difficult times. Now he was sorry though that he had allowed those nice dollars to flutter away in all directions. However, he immediately began to shake with laughter: the dollars were after all, just like himself, merely a figment of the imagination. It was perfectly clear that in the real world you can't pay for things with dreamed up or imagined money. But perhaps something concrete could be made of the fantasy. And now he had already arrived. The painter Babe Walker was sitting in his studio, very down in the dumps. The landlord had given him notice and the bailiff had taken away the last picture. Bobby Box looked in through the skylight and shouted: "Cuckoo! - here I am!" - Then Bobby told him the whole story of his adventures; the artist set to work at once and produced a great colourful picture book, brought it to a publisher in Greenville and got a whole fistful of money for it. Bobby Box was once again in his place on the wall as a drawing observing the painter's fine life: twelve hot dogs and a two-pound tin of peas were put into a brand new pot that sparkled on a paraffin cooker. - Bobby Box called: "Enjoy!" from his wall; the feasting bohemien smiled up at him, waving one of the delicious shiny sausages.