"Not altogether himself, but somewhat," said a voice; and Davy, looking around, was astonished to find the Hole-keeper standing beside him. He was a most extraordinary-looking object, being nothing but Davy's parcel marked, "Confexionry," with arms and legs and a head to it. At the sight of him the Goblin fell flat on his back, and covered his face with his hands.
"I'm quite aware that my appearance is not prepossessing," said the Hole-keeper, with a scornful look at the Goblin. "In fact, I'm nothing but a quarter of a pound of 'plain,' and the price isn't worth mentioning."
"But how did you ever come to be alive again, at all?" said Davy.
"Well," said the Hole-keeper, "the truth of the matter is, that after you went away the Cockalorum fell to reading the Vacuum; and, if you'll believe it, there wasn't a word in it about my going back into the raw material."
"I do believe that," said Davy; but the Hole-keeper, without noticing the interruption, went on:—
"Then, of course, I got up and came away. Meanwhile the Cockalorum is gorging himself with information.
"I saw him just now," said Davy, laughing, "and he didn't act as if he had learned anything very lately. I don't think he'll find much in your book;" and here he went off into another fit of laughter.
"Ah! but just think of the lots and lots of things he won't find," exclaimed the Hole-keeper. "Everything he doesn't find in it is something worth knowing. By the way, your friend seems to be having some sort of a fit. Give him some dubbygrums;" and with this the Hole-keeper stalked pompously away.
"The smell of sugar always gives me the craw-craws," said the Goblin, in a stifled voice, rolling on the ground and keeping his hands over his face. "Get me some water."
"I haven't anything to get it in," said Davy, helplessly.