“What, indeed!” said the Doctor. “And so you have complained of them?”
“Oh! no!” answered she. “We don’t get them into rows, unless they are very provoking; but some of the things were theirs, so everybody was sent for, and I was sent out to finish this, and they are all tidying. I don’t know when it will be done, for I have all this side to hem; and the soldier’s box is broken, and Noah is lost out of the Noah’s Ark, and so is one of the elephants and a guinea-pig, and so is the rocking-horse’s nose; and nobody knows what has become of Rutlandshire and the Wash, but they’re so small, I don’t wonder; only North America and Europe are gone too.”
The Doctor started up in affected horror. “Europe gone, did you say? Bless me! what will become of us!”
“Don’t!” said the young lady, kicking petulantly with her dangling feet, and trying not to laugh. “You know I mean the puzzles; and if they were yours, you wouldn’t like it.”
“I don’t half like it as it is,” said the Doctor. “I am seriously alarmed. An earthquake is one thing: you have a good shaking, and settle down again. But Europe gone—lost— Why, here comes Deordie, I declare, looking much more cheerful than we do; let us humbly hope that Europe has been found. At present I feel like Aladdin when his palace had been transported by the magician; I don’t know where I am.”
“You’re here, Doctor; aren’t you?” asked the slow curly-wigged brother, squatting himself on the grass.
“Is Europe found?” said the Doctor tragically.
“Yes,” laughed Deordie. “I found it.”
“You will be a great man,” said the Doctor. “And—it is only common charity to ask—how about North America?”
“Found too,” said Deordie. “But the Wash is completely lost.”