“I don’t believe it, then,” said the Ancient Mariner defiantly. “What has it lived on?”
“Sandwiches,” replied the Crow; “it’s the only thing you can get here.”
“Sandwiches!” exclaimed Girlie, looking about; “why whatever do they make them of?”
“Sand, of course,” said the Crow contemptuously. “Any donkey knows that; that’s why they are called sandwiches.”
“O’ugh! how horrid!” said Girlie. “I should think they must be very nasty.”
“I’ve had occasion before to remark that you are very peculiar in your tastes,” said the Crow sarcastically. “They’ve been having a rare lark at Why since you’ve been away,” he continued, addressing himself to the Wallypug.
“What have they been doing, your Majesty?” asked the Wallypug anxiously.
“Well, you’re supposed to be dead, to begin with,” replied the Crow, “and the Cockatoo has headed a Revolution, and has got herself proclaimed Protectress, and oh! there’s rare goings on, I can tell you.”
“Oh dear! oh dear! I do wish I could get back. I know what that old Cockatoo is,” said the poor Wallypug anxiously; “she will upset everything and everybody. Can’t you suggest something, your Majesty?” he cried, turning to Girlie; but Girlie did not know what to advise.
While they had been talking, the Bathing-machine Woman and the Ancient Mariner had gone a little way off on an exploring expedition on their own account (the Bathing-machine Woman having first made a comfortable bed with her shawl for the baby, between the feet of the Sphinx, where it lay sleeping peacefully, with its little thumb stuck in its mouth). Girlie could see them in the distance, and presently the Ancient Mariner shouted and beckoned to them excitedly.