"What vulgarity!" cried the Chip.
"It's a blessing it's dark, and he can't see the children laughing," thought the Mole-mother, "or I don't know what would happen."
"Everything that belonged to a King should be treated with Royal respect," continued the Chip.
"As to that, I really haven't time for it," replied the Mole; "what with putting the children to bed, and getting them up again, and all my work in the passages, I can't devote myself to Court life."
"If you like, you can represent the people," said the Chip. "I don't mind, only then I can't talk to you."
"You can read out Royal Decrees, and make laws," said the Mole; and to herself she added, "It won't disturb me. I shan't take any notice of them."
"Who's to be nobles?" said the Chip, crossly. "I'd rather not do the thing at all, if it can't be done properly!"
"Well, I can't be people and nobles too, that's quite certain," remarked the Mole-mother, as she tidied up her house. "Besides, the children are too young—they wouldn't understand."
"What's it like up above?" enquired the Chip languidly after a short pause, for it was almost better to speak to the Mole, than to nobody. "People still walk on two legs?"
"Why, of course," answered the Mole, "there's never any difference in people, that I can see. They're always exactly alike, except in tempers."