“Ten penny tea cups!” shrieked the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, falling over backwards. “What next?” For Wag with Peg on his back had leaped straight over his head.
Picking himself up, and with every whisker in his beard prickling straight on end, the Grand Army of Oz backed toward the royal stable. When he had backed half the distance he turned and ran for his life. But he need not have been afraid.
“What a funny little man,” chuckled Wag. “Why, he’s no bigger than we are. He’s no—!” Then suddenly Wag clutched his ears. “Oh!” he screamed, beginning to hop up and down, “I forgot all my treasures—my olden goop soons. Oh! Oh! My urple sool wocks! I’ve forgotten my urple sool wocks!”
“Your what?” cried Peg Amy, clutching him by the fur. “Now Wag, dear, you’re all mixed up. Perhaps it’s ’cause your ears are crossed. There, now, do stop wiggling your whiskers and turn out your toes!”
But Wag continued to wiggle his whiskers and turn in his toes and roar for his urple sool wocks.
“Stop!” screamed Peg at last, with both hands over her wooden ears. “I know what you mean! Your purple wool socks!”
“Yes,” sobbed the rabbit, slumping down on a rock and holding his head in both paws.
“Well, don’t you think”—the Wooden Doll shook her head jerkily—“Don’t you think it’s just as well? Ruggedo stole all those things and you wouldn’t want stolen soup spoons, now would you?”
Wag took a long breath and regarded Peg uncertainly. Then something in her pleasant wooden face seemed to brace him up.