“You’re not funny to me,” blustered Wag, still glaring at Kabumpo. “Who does he think he is?”
“I?” sniffed Kabumpo, spreading out his ears complacently, “I am the Elegant Elephant of Pumperdink. Notice my pearls; gaze upon my robe.”
“You don’t look very elegant to me,” snorted Wag. “You look more like a tramp. Says he’s a lelegant nelephant from Dumperpink,” he whispered scornfully to Peg.
“And what’s that you’ve got on your back?” he called, with a wave of his paw at Pompa. “A dunce?”
“Dunce!” screamed Kabumpo furiously. “This is the Prince of Pumperdink, you good-for-nothing lettuce-eater! What do you mean by laughing at royalty?”
“Royalty! Oh, ha, ha, ha!” roared Wag, rolling over and over in the grass. “But he’s so funny!” He paused to take another look at the Prince. At this Kabumpo lunged forward, his eyes snapping angrily.
“Stop!” begged the Prince, tugging Kabumpo by the ear. “You were rude to his friend that—er—doll, so you must expect him to be rude to me. It’s all your fault,” he added reproachfully.
“Are you a Prince?” asked Peg Amy, staring up at Pompa with her round, painted eyes.
“Of course he’s a Prince. Didn’t I say so before? Who is that hoppy creature?”
“That’s Wag—such a dear fellow.” Peg smiled confidently at Kabumpo and he was suddenly ashamed of himself for laughing at her.