“Come along,” said the Dodo, turning to the others; “let’s go. I was never so insulted in all my life.”
“Ach! don’t ged in a demper,” said the Walrus, complacently. “Dat is no goot also. Come, I show you der vay to der Equador—dat is Germany, too,” he added, in parenthesis. “Bud you must haf some glothes first to vare,” he cried, looking at the children’s scanty garments. “Id is so gold dere.”
“Cold at the Equator?” laughed Marjorie. “Why, I always thought that it was very hot.”
“Ach! dat is so,” said the Walrus. “But id is der gedding dere dat is so gold. Come, I gif you some oudtfids,” and he led the way into the little hut, which was hung all around with clumsy-looking fur garments, which, however, when they had got into them, the children found to be exceedingly comfortable.
Besides the clothes, there were all kinds of stores piled up around the inside of the hut, and a quantity of snowshoes of various shapes, and little sleds, like those which Dick remembered having seen in pictures of Polar expeditions.
When the children had been accommodated with some garments, the Walrus turned to the Dodo, and said, “Veil, now, I egspecdt dat you vant some glothes, too, dond”t id?”
“No, thank you,” said the Dodo, proudly, settling his necktie and folding his wings primly. “I have my gloves; they are quite sufficient.”
“Bud you haven’t any ting on your body,” said the Walrus. “You bedder haf some glothes, eh?” and he kindly brought forth some very large leather breeches, which the Dodo, after some hesitation, consented to put on.
Next the Walrus took down a rough, hairy coat, with mittens attached to the sleeves.
“Gom, put your arms in dis,” he said, “and trow avay dose gloves you got on.”