"'Get into this little glass tube,' replied the Toad.
"Djorak obeyed.
"This tube was no bigger than a penholder; when Djorak was comfortably settled inside of it the Black Toad put one end of it into his mouth and blew.
"He blew so hard that Djorak was shot right into our country. Then——"
But here Redy interrupted the Mother of the Crow. She gave a little shake to the Tea-Cosy and whispered rapidly what she had noticed taking place on the other side of the public square.
This is what she had seen.
From one of the holes made for the Flying-Fish Redy perceived the thin long arm of the Historian sticking out, the finger pointing accusingly towards the door of the kitchen, where Smaly, Redy, and the Mother of the Crow were seated.
The Mother of the Crow understood the significance of this at once. It meant she would not be permitted to carry her story any further. The monopoly of the chronicles of the country belonged to the Historian.
The Mother of the Crow had to hold her tongue.
