George thought about all these things when he woke up. It must have been morning, for it was quite light, and the sun was shining away as it always seemed to shine in this country. Did it ever rain here? If it did, it must have been quite a nice, gentle kind of rain—baby showers, not the kind that pours and pours and keeps you waiting with your nose flattened to the window-pane, wishing that it would clear up. It never does—until bed-time.
The night-time is the proper time for the rain, only what would the people do then who sell umbrellas? Fancy a world without umbrellas!
If it ever did rain here, what on earth would the giant do? He would probably catch a dreadful cold, and then, if he began to sneeze, he would blow the roof off one's house! It would be much worse than the worst thunder-storm.
Of course, nobody ever heard of a giant with an umbrella. If it were open, it would darken the whole sky worse than a fog, and fogs are bad enough.
George had now been quite a long time in this country; one, two—well, it was no use counting, for perhaps even numbers weren't the same. It would be very difficult to remember things if the twice-times-two table were turned upside down. Try it and see for yourself!
Still, though many wonderful things had happened, he had not found his fortune; at least—well, there again, those leaves in the sack which Alexander had told him not to throw away must be worth something, or what was the use of keeping them?
There was no postman either. How was he to write to Mother?—though, after all, George wasn't quite sure if he could write a long letter without any mistakes in spelling. Perhaps there wasn't any spelling in this country. If that were true it would be more delightful than ever.
Suddenly, "Wuff! Wuff!" he heard Alexander's bark! "I'm coming!" he cried, and jumped out of bed. He never could remember whether he had undressed or not when he went to bed. Anyway, his clothes were on—but were they his clothes? Of course they were not!
He was dressed in a suit of brown and green, brown the colour of the sweet-smelling earth and green the colour of the soft grass. A little cloak of the same colours lay neatly folded on the chair beside his bed, and a cap with a long golden feather hung from a peg on the wall.
How pleased George did feel with himself when he looked in the glass! "I can go and visit the king in this suit," he thought to himself. "I suppose there is a king in this country. Oh, there's sure to be one somewhere about in a castle, and perhaps there will be a little prince as well."