“Go and fetch the Cockatoo,” said Oom Hi, “she shall judge for herself.”
So the Kangaroo went off to fetch her.
“Wonderful preparation, isn’t it?” said Oom Hi, gazing affectionately at his bottle of “Wallypug’s Blush.”
“Very!” I remarked.
“I knew it must be good for something or another,” he went on, “but of course we could not tell exactly what till we had tried. It very nearly cured a cold once, you know, when I called it Broncho, though I am bound to admit that it was not exactly a success as Vimbril. Do you think ‘Wallypug’s Blush’ a good title,” he asked anxiously.
“It’s a very striking one,” I admitted.
“I shall advertise it well in the Daily Whyer, you know, and—Oh! here comes the Cockatoo,” he added, as that bird came bustling into the cell.
“Now then, what’s this I hear?” she began, giving me a keen glance; “‘Wallypug’s Blush’ restored your complexion. Why so it has, though I cannot say much for it even now. However, since you have no longer a blue face you are scarcely likely to be valuable as a curiosity, so you had better get about your business,” and, flinging open the door, the Cockatoo motioned me out with her crutched stick.
You may be sure I was not long in availing myself of my liberty and hurrying to the spot where I had last seen his Majesty.