“But this is the Island of the Moon,” exclaimed Admiral Owl, blinking his round eyes.
“Oh, how I wish that I had stayed at home,” groaned poor Mr. Bunnikins. “Mrs. Bunny did not want to come anyhow, and now we shall all freeze into icicles. Oh dear! Oh dear!”
“Never mind,” said his kind little wife. “We will wrap up warmly, and perhaps we shall have some sleighing.”
Sure enough, when they landed, they found a nice sleigh, drawn by four reindeer, ready to carry them to the hotel. In spite, however, of wearing two ulsters, fur-lined overshoes, a big muff, and a fur cap tied down under his chin, Mr. Bunnikins-Bunny’s whiskers, which were all you could see of him, fairly shook with the cold.
The hotel was all made of ice, so that everybody outside could see inside, and everybody inside could see outside.
It was well heated, and there were warm carpets on the floors, but Mr. Bunnikins would not be comforted. He sat in a big arm-chair close to the fire, with his toe-toes drawn up under him, shivering and groaning.
