“They look like great trams going by,” said Francis. And so they did. The children remarked that while the infantry walked upright like any other foot soldiers, the cavalry troops seemed to be, with their mounts, suspended in the air about a foot from the ground.
“And that shows it’s water,” said Bernard.
“No, it doesn’t,” said Francis.
“Well, a whale’s not a bird,” said Bernard.
“And there are other things besides air and water,” said Francis.
The Household Brigade was perhaps the handsomest. The Grand Salmoner led his silvery soldiers, and the 100th Halibuts were evidently the sort of troops to make the foes of anywhere “feel sorry they were born.”
It was a glorious review, and when it was over the children found that they had been quite forgetting their desire to get home.
But as the back of the last Halibut vanished behind the seaweed trees the desire came back with full force. Princess Maia had disappeared. Their own Princess was, they supposed, still performing her source-service.
Suddenly everything seemed to have grown tiresome.