North

I have indeed gone to action. That sweet abode of my arrival is now but a dollop of memory within my upper head. I must confess that in my weaker moments, I have longed for it and three times now have turned back to seek my solace within. But at length I have turned my back on my turning back and hence have come far and now gloan upon it.

My nub-ladened feet carried me to a place of great intersection, the manner of which I have only spied from on high during my troublesome venture to Gnashville. Indeed here have I met others whom I suppose to be Weems as well. I approached one of these and begged of him the way and manner of Voonville. His name was Edgar and he spat upon the ground wildly. His odor was large and his wobinity plainly open. I daresay I liked him.

"North" he said with terrible dignity. Then he showed me his sign and I was pleased. Indeed his Weemish nature was plainly written upon it. I must consider whether such a sign would do me well. Without further delay I turned to the north and bid my feet plod on, and am happy to report that they obeyed without complaint or snobbery.

North then. To Voonville where answers lie in wait.