“It doesn’t seem so high as it used to,” said the rabbit, looking at the walls. “Why, I believe I could jump out if I took a good run and carry you, too. Come ashort, Peg!”
“Aren’t you mixed, Wag dear? Don’t you mean come along?” asked Peg, smoothing down her torn dress.
“Well, now that you mention it, my head does feel queer,” admitted the rabbit, twitching his nose, “bort of sackwards!”
“Sort of backwards,” corrected Peg gently. “Well, never mind. I know what you mean. But do let’s try to find that awful box of magic. You know Ruggedo brought me to life, Wag, with something in that box!”
“Only good thing he ever did,” said Wag, shaking his head. “But I think you were alive before,” he added solemnly. “You always seemed alive to me.”
“I think so, too,” whispered Peg excitedly. “I can’t remember just how, or where, but Oh! Wag! I know I’ve been alive before. I remember dancing.”
Peg took a few awkward steps and Wag looked on dubiously, too polite to criticize her efforts. He didn’t even laugh when Peg Amy fell down. Peg laughed herself, however, as merrily as possible. “It’s going to be such fun being alive,” she said, picking herself up gaily, “such fun, Wag dear. Why, there’s Glegg’s box!” She pounced upon the little shining gold casket. “Ruggedo didn’t take it after all!”
“Is it shut?” asked Wag, clapping both paws to his ears. “Look out for explosions, say I.”
“No, but I’ll soon close it,” said Peg and, shutting Glegg’s box, she slipped it into pocket of her dress. It was about half the size of this book you are reading and as Peg’s pockets were big and old fashioned, it fitted quite nicely.
“Come ashort,” said Wag again, looking around uneasily, for he was anxious to get out of the gnome’s cave. So Peg seated herself carefully on his back and clasped her wooden arms around his neck. Then Wag ran back a few steps, gave a great jump and sailed up, up and out of the cave.