“Well, he needn’t get waggish with me,” grumbled the Elegant Elephant in a lower voice.
“Oh, don’t quarrel!” begged Peg. “It’s such a lovely morning and you both look so interesting.”
Kabumpo eyed the big Wooden Doll attentively. It was smart of her to think him interesting. He cleared his throat gruffly.
“You’re not as funny as you look,” he admitted grandly, which was the nearest to an apology he had ever come. “But what are you doing here and why are you alive?”
“I don’t know,” explained Peg apologetically. “It just happened last night.”
“It did? Well, where are you going?”
Wag still looked cross and his nose was twitching violently, but Peg politely answered Kabumpo’s question.
“We’re on our way to Ev to try to help Ozma,” said the Wooden Doll, folding her hands quaintly.
“Why so are we!” cried Pompa, sliding down Kabumpo’s trunk in a hurry.