Frank—Three. Three what, I wonder? He’s taller than my father.
Ecila—Your father must look funny. (to Alice) How old are you? I’m ten.
Alice—Why, so am I, but I’m not nearly so tall. And Frank is twelve.
Ecila—So is Knarf. But he’s bigger than I am, and your brother is smaller than you.
Frank—Well, either I’m dippy, or you are. You say everything topsy turvy.
Knarf—Of course. This is Topsy Turvy Land. How big is your little brother? As small as Derf?
Frank—He’s three, and about so tall. (measures.)
Ecila—So when you say small, or little, you mean big. And your father? He’s not as little as Derf, you say. How little is he?
Derf—My Daddy’s big, real big. Big as that. (measures.)
Alice—He must be tiny. I’d like to see him.