“Oh! we always have to go to sea, if we don’t know things,” replied the Penguin dolefully.
Girlie was just going to ask a further question about this, when she looked up and saw that the Wallypug was wriggling nervously about on the throne, and that the Husher was glaring fiercely at him.
“Don’t jiffle,” said the Husher, “you make me giddy; what’s the matter with you?”
“I’m afraid, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug, standing up and speaking in a frightened voice, “that I shall have to present another petition.”
“Good gracious!” said the Husher, “what do you want now? you’re always wanting something or other; last week it was to have your boots mended, and the week before you wanted your hair cut, and now you want something else.”
“No, your Majesty,” said the Wallypug meekly, “it’s the same thing. If you remember, you know, you couldn’t all agree as to whether I might have it cut or not, so I had to have part of it cut, and now it really looks so very ridiculous, that I humbly beg that you will allow me to have the rest taken off.”
There was a murmuring in the room, and then some one called out, “Take your crown off.”
The Wallypug did so, and showed that on one side of his head his hair hung over his ear, while, on the other, it was quite short.
“Well, it certainly does look rather silly,” said the Husher. “How much will it cost to have it cut?”
“Threepence, your Majesty,” replied the Wallypug meekly.