“Nonsense!” said Sylvie very decidedly: and gave their names in Doggee.
Then the Sentinel scratched violently at the door, and gave a yell that made Bruno shiver from head to foot.
“Hooyah wah!” said a deep voice inside. (That's Doggee for “Come in!”)
“It's the King himself!” the Mastiff whispered in an awestruck tone. “Take off your wigs, and lay them humbly at his paws.” (What we should call “at his feet.”)
Sylvie was just going to explain, very politely, that really they couldn't perform that ceremony, because their wigs wouldn't come off, when the door of the Royal Kennel opened, and an enormous Newfoundland Dog put his head out. “Bow wow?” was his first question.
“When His Majesty speaks to you,” the Sentinel hastily whispered to Bruno, “you should prick up your ears!”
Bruno looked doubtfully at Sylvie. “I'd rather not, please,” he said. “It would hurt.”
{Image...The dog-king}
“It doesn't hurt a bit!” the Sentinel said with some indignation. “Look! It's like this!” And he pricked up his ears like two railway signals.
Sylvie gently explained matters. “I'm afraid we ca'n't manage it,” she said in a low voice. “I'm very sorry: but our ears haven't got the right—” she wanted to say “machinery” in Doggee: but she had forgotten the word, and could only think of “steam-engine.”