“You shouldn’t say ‘ain’t,’” said the Dodo, rebukingly. “What are you, then?”
There was no answer, the creature had gone to sleep.
“Wake up! wake up!” cried the Dodo, shaking him violently. “The idea of dropping off to sleep when any one is talking to you!”
“I thought you were going to preach,” explained the sloth-bear. “You began talking about something that I shouldn’t do or say, and I always go to sleep when people talk to me like that—it’s so stupid of them.”
“Where are you going to?” asked the Dodo.
“I don’t know,” was the reply. “Where are you?”
“We want to get to the place where the steamers start for England,” explained Marjorie.
“Jump in, then,” said the sloth-bear, jerking his head in the direction of the cart; and the children, highly delighted at the prospect of a ride, all scrambled in.
Dick took the reins, and Marjorie made herself comfortable beside him, while Fidge dangled his legs over the back of the “chariot,” the Dodo solemnly squatting down at his side, with his gloves carefully displayed, and his necktie properly adjusted.
“Now then,” said Dick, shaking the reins, “we are ready to start. Go on, please.”