The Rolling Hoopers
Snip was awakened by a tickling feeling of his nose and, opening his eyes, saw Pajuka standing over him with a big bunch of grapes in his bill. "Hello!" yawned Snip, sitting up and rubbing his eyes sleepily. "Is it morning?"
Pajuka dropped the grapes into his lap.
"Half past it. Been up since five, had a fly and a swim and brought you these for breakfast," clucked the goose, who seemed to be in a fine humor. "Mombi's eaten all the rest of the chicken herself, the old Scundermutch!"
The sun filtered down cheerily through the tree-tops and a fresh little breeze had set all the forest leaves to dancing. Snip, himself, felt curiously light hearted and gay. Perhaps it was the long sleep he had had in the open, or the friendly presence of Pajuka, or the thought of the strange adventures that lay ahead. Anyway, he jumped up with a will and even the scowl old Mombi gave him failed to dampen his spirits. She had already prepared and eaten her breakfast and was beating out the fire with her shoe. Following Pajuka to a small sparkling brook, Snip splashed his face and hands vigorously, ate his grapes and a large sugar bun that the thoughtful Pajuka had plucked from a nearby bun bush. By this time Mombi had her basket packed and, shaking her stick crossly, announced it was time to start.
"Which way are we going?" asked Snip, taking the basket and falling into step beside her.
"My way!" snapped Mombi fiercely.
"Well, that's a witch way, isn't it," observed Pajuka, flopping along a few feet overhead and winking down slyly at Snip, as he plodded down the road.
"Hold your bill," snapped Mombi, hobbling along so fast that the little button boy had to skip to keep pace with her. "I told you last night we were going to the Emerald City."