“I wote for you at the bottom of the step for some time, but was obligated to move to a more shelterous situation, as I am suffering from a stiff neck.”
“You wote for me!” exclaimed Boy, “whatever do you mean?”
“Wote, past participle of the verb to wait. Wait, wite, wote, you know,” answered the Soldier.
“Hee, hee, hee! Isn’t he a cure?” laughed the Grig, winking at Boy, and twirling about at such a rate that it made Boy quite giddy to look at him.
“He’s been crossed in love, and it’s touched his brain—ha, ha, ha!—he fancies that he has invented a new system of Grammar. What a lark! Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho!” and he rolled about in an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
“Well, of all the extraordinary individuals that I have ever met,” thought Boy, “these two are certainly the most remarkable! I wonder which of them is to show me the way to Sand Castle. I had better ask.”
“Mr. Officer,” he began, for he thought that would be a polite way of addressing the Soldier.
“His name’s One-and-Nine,” interrupted the Grig “What a name! Ha, ha, ha! Hee, hee!”
“The vulgarocity of this individual is unbearacious,” exclaimed One-and-Nine angrily. “Let us leave him.”
“Oh! I wish to be directed to Sand Castle,” said Boy. “Can you please show me the way?”