"And about time, too," thought Dorothy as the rock door opened cautiously and the little crooked Gnome thrust out his head.
"In the name of King Kalico the First, I hereby welcome you to Gnome Man's Land," began Shoofenwaller pompously.
"Oh, that's all right," yawned Pigasus wearily, "what we want is a place to sleep, and remember—no trickery!" he added sharply as the Gnome stood aside so that they could enter the narrow rock passageway.
"I suppose your Highness comes on a matter of state?" remarked Shoofenwaller, turning from Pigasus with an involuntary grimace. Pigs reminded him of ham—ham reminded him of eggs, and eggs were immediate death and destruction to gnomes.
"Well, yes," admitted Dorothy, adjusting her step to the short, crooked legs of the King's little Counselor. "What I really need is an army!"
"An army?" groaned Shoofenwaller, realizing what bad news this would be for his master. "Our army?"
"Oh, let's talk about all that in the morning," wheezed Pigasus as Dorothy briskly nodded her head in answer to Shoofenwaller's question. The pink pig was taking sleepy sidelong squints at the elegantly excavated and gem-encrusted corridors of the Gnome King's underground dwelling.
"Just what his Majesty suggested," muttered the Chamberlain, sweeping open a red iron door with a ruby knob. "I trust you will be comfortable here and rest well. If your Highness wishes a cup of Kalicocoa, or your friend a mud pie or pudding, just ring the bell. Goodnight, Princess! Goodnight—er—er PIG!"
"Sa-hay—I resent that!" Pigasus cocked his ears belligerently as the King's crooked little messenger bowed himself out the door. "Did you notice the way he said 'pig,' Dorothy?"
"Yes," said Dorothy with a little yawn, "I did, but then all gnomes are sassy and you'll have to get used to them. If Kalico helps us, that's all we care about."