"Oh, everyone grows feathers in Un," chirped Nick cheerily, hopping toward Bob. "Take off your cap and see."
Snatching off his hat Bob ran his fingers hastily through his hair. Horrors! Right at the crown of his head were at least ten stiff red feathers. Notta had as many green ones, but his hung down over his right eye when he took off his cap. The desire to laugh at Snorer suddenly left them. To laugh at someone who was funny was one thing, but to be funny yourself—well, that was different!
"You'll soon have as many feathers as I have," chuckled Nick, regarding them with his head on one side. "I think they're quite becoming!"
"Becoming!" screamed the Cowardly Lion. "Well, they'll be coming out by the roots. It's bad enough to be chicken hearted, but being feather headed, I simply will not stand!" He gave the bunch of feathers a furious tweak, but he might as well have tried to pull off his ears.
"We've got to get off this skyland," blustered the poor lion, stamping around in a fury. "I'll jump off before I grow another feather."
Bob was thinking that his would come in mighty handy for playing Indian.
"I suppose we'll soon grow enough to fly off," said Notta, blowing the green feathers out of his eye and pushing them back under his chap. "I say, Nickadoodle, can't you tell us a way out of this?"