The large door swung open and the flunky prepared to make his best bow. But he could hardly welcome three such different beings with one salute, so he greeted each one separately. To Snythergen he leaned back, pointed his face toward the ceiling, and bobbed down and up by bending and straightening his knees. Sancho Wing, like most little people, wished to appear important, and when it came his turn to bow he raised himself on tip claws and stretched up to make his body as tall as he could; then leaning forward stiffly he flapped his left wing. Puzzled to know just how to respond to this, the door-man got down on his knees, and turning his head sideways wiggled his left ear. Squeaky had a habit of tossing his head when he bowed, and the flunky merely gave him a toss of the head in return.
The door-man turning his head sideways wiggled his left ear
In the hall the housekeeper welcomed them very kindly, offering to show them about while Santa Claus dressed for dinner. When she learned that they were the “three wise men” she treated them with great respect. Inside, the house seemed even larger than it had from without, and Snythergen was thankful for ceilings so high that he could stand up comfortably. So enormous were the rooms each one might have been used as a public hall. There was little furniture—mostly vast spaces with a background of oriental carpets and cathedral windows.
“What is this?” asked Snythergen, as they came into an odd little room in the basement with circular wall and a spotless aluminum floor. To cross it they walked on a bridge, raised several feet above the floor.
“This is the pie room,” said the housekeeper. “The crust is rolled out on the pie pan floor and the work of putting in the filling is managed from the bridge. When it is ready, we light the gas under the floor and the pie is cooked.”
“But who could ever eat such a big one?” asked Sancho Wing.