The Sign Post, without condescending to notice the little bear’s impertinence, lifted Sally in his long arms so that she might more closely examine the wonderful tree, which she did with the greatest curiosity. But although she sought all over it, there was no fruit bearing her name. She had not expected anything, yet she somehow felt disappointed. However, Bedelia was in the highest spirits, having been lifted up by the Polar Bear, with whom she had struck up the greatest friendship, and she could scarcely be restrained from appropriating a number of letters, albeit they were all addressed to other people.
Just as the Polar Bear was resolutely setting her down on her feet, she made a sudden grab and descended to the ground with a letter tightly clasped in her mischievous paw.
“Oh, Bedelia, how could you!” cried Sally in distress.
“Well, it’s for you, stupid!” retorted Bedelia saucily, as she thrust the envelope under Sally’s nose. Sure enough it was, and Sally had somehow overlooked it. It was addressed in a manner not to be mistaken:
To Sally,
Care of Her Royal Highness,
The Palace,
Toyland.
“How curious!” cried Sally as she eagerly tore it open.
It read thus:
Dear Sally:—
Here I am shut up in the tower by that horrid old Polly-nosed Saphead. He sent for me yesterday on the pretense that he wanted me to go sleigh-riding, and when he got me up here in the very top of the tower, he locked me in and went away. He has left the gargoyles outside the door and I can hear them scratching and fussing around. I don’t know what he is doing this for, but anyway he has gone off on business with the King and Queen and I want you to bring help at once and let me out. I know how to get even with him. Do hurry, dear Sally.