Brillo looked up and noticed that the child had left the gate unlatched. YES! he thought. This time I'll get my wimmen, and I'll head north, where a sheep can be a sheep.
This time for sure.
Brillo began butting the gate, and quickly realized that it was more useful to butt it at the latch end. Heading for the ewes' field, he looked over to the house where no one was yet up.
You know, he thought, every time I get myself some of my wimmen, I fall asleep before I can get out of here.
This sudden rush of realization set Brillo on a new mental path. How to stay awake? What was the magic of waking? Then, suddenly, he realized. It was the Blue Cup. Each morning, Flo came out and drank from the Blue Cup and said that she was waking up.
That was the magic. It was the blueness of it. He looked around. Blue . . . Blue . . . Blue. It was certain that no one was going to bring him a blue cup. No, that was reserved only for the yoomans.
Blue. Suddenly, his eyes lit on the flowerbed. Pansies were blue. Weren't they?
Anyway, Brillo had figured it out. The secret to staying awake, and getting away to the north was finding the magic blue substance. Brillo was determined to eat every blue thing he could find. No matter how many trys it took, he would go north with his wimmen.