"A mighty poor catch, I call you," muttered the King complainingly. He turned to his guard to see whether they agreed with him and they all nodded so hard it made Bob dizzy.
"Are you willing to become Uns?" he asked gloomily.
"I'll not grow feathers for anybody," growled the Cowardly Lion, shaking his paw at I-wish-I-was.
"Wait till you've tried," answered the King loftily. "But what I mean is this: Each of you must do something unish, for we are all Uns here. I'm unfair—any Un will tell you that. Bill, there," he pointed proudly to the commander of the Guard, "Bill, he's ungrateful." Then he waved to the Un beside him. "And Tom's unkind. See what I mean? We're all Uns together." The King rubbed his clawlike hands gleefully.
"But I never heard of such a place!" gasped Notta.
"Of course not! Un's positively unheard of," confided the King, smoothing back his feathers complacently. Bob's eyes grew rounder and rounder, Notta swallowed, and the Cowardly Lion tilted one ear forward to be sure he was hearing aright.
"Why, you're Uns already," said I-wish-I-was, with a mean little chuckle.
"You," he pointed his long thin finger at Notta, "are unnatural. You," he pointed to the Cowardly Lion, "are unpleasant. And you," he wiggled his finger teasingly at Bob, "you're uninteresting!"
"Thanks!" said the clown, taking off his cap.
"And besides that," cried I-wish-I-was, his voice rising to a shrill squeak, "you're all uninvited."