Smaly realized that he had been lacking in tact to mention the word "door" to the Grub, who always pretended that he was not a doorkeeper. Papylick explained to the two little people:
"If there weren't a door the people would simply tear the Chief Contractor to bits to get at the food."
"But——" began Smaly.
"And anyway the door was open," said Redy.
"That's true," replied Papylick, "but nevertheless it's so narrow that only one person can go through at a time."
The Song went on
And, indeed, each Wig was passing singly through the little door to receive in his pot or pan a drop of gooseberry jam or a morsel of cake or apple, or one or two cherry-stones.
The Chief Contractor served out his goods with his bamboo spoons. When the Wigs were served they made their way in single file towards two posts which stood in the square, and passed very carefully between them so as not to spill any of their precious provisions.
And every one had received from the Contractor a little powder in a box like a small snuff-box labelled "Soy."