No one had anything to say to this, so every one remained silent, sunk in the deepest perplexity. Papylick at last suggested that they should ask the advice of the Mother of the Crow.
By this time the Healer had finished his mending.
The Confectioner, placing his hand against his mother-of-pearl forehead, murmured, "I have a pain there."
"That must be the fever," said the Despoiler.
"Fever?" demanded the Healer sharply. "How can there be fever when I have glued his paw on again? He hasn't got fever at all. It's worrying that's given him a headache. What Wig worthy of the name is not worrying at this moment when such a grave and terrible problem lies before us."
CHAPTER X
The Wigs all imagine they suffer from headache: The Rats come to the Healer to be cured of the ravages of hot Soy: The Chief Contractor has to make himself ill eating the musical instruments.
Directly he heard the word "problem" the Chief Contractor put on the mask of the "Mathematician."