“Oh, but then there will be no day at all for them to arrive on—and that will be worse than ever. How awfully puzzling it all is!” cried Coppertop.
CHAPTER VIII.
TOWARDS THE GREAT WEST LAND
“WE don’t seem to have done much good,” grumbled Tibbs.
“And you never will, if you grumble,” said a cheery voice, which they knew belonged to Mr. Atom, although he was far too small for them to see. “You’ll never find a December day in these cold parts, if you stay here till the moon turns into cheese.”
“I suppose not. But whatever are we to do?” said Coppertop.
“See if the West Wind has one to spare.”
“’Es, but how are we to find him?” asked Kiddiwee, in a tired little voice.
“That’s easy,” said Mr. Atom cheerily. “He lives in the Great West Land.”