CHAPTER II.
THE AMBASSADOR EXTRAORDINARY.
At the top of the ladder the children found themselves in the midst of a crowd of curious little pigmies, dressed in all sorts of quaint and fantastic costumes.
They were the oddest little creatures that you can possibly imagine, with eyes and ears that seemed to be too big for their heads, and tiny little spindle legs that looked quite incapable of supporting their big bodies.
They spoke in a shrill, clear, bell-like voice, which, although they were such tiny creatures, could be heard distinctly.
“So you don’t believe in fairies, eh!” they cried, clustering about the children.
“I do,” declared Marjorie, stoutly.
“Yes, and me do, too,” said Fidge, looking about him delightedly.
“But,” objected Dick, “I’ve always been told that fairies, and elves, and gnomes, and things of that sort were merely myths, and existed only in the imagination of story-tellers.”
“He—he—he,” giggled the little people. “The same old story. They told you that to hide their ignorance, my child.”