Sapphira had become very interested now, and she left the fort, and came over to the side of the Cockatoo.
"Oh, Mr. Cockatoo," she said, "if you could only invent a way to get the Flying Pig out of his cage so that I could go and spend the day with the Walruses it would be so splendid. Do you think you could?"
The Cockatoo gave a queer, squeaky sound,—Sapphira was not sure whether it was meant to be a laugh or not, it certainly did not sound much like one,—and said,
"You be at the cage at nine to-morrow morning, and we'll see," then spreading his large parti-colored wings he flew away.
Sapphira was so excited that she entirely forgot to notice that the water had gone into the trench around the fort, or that the sand she was standing on was very wet, and that she herself would be very wet the next wave that came up. The excitement of spending the day with the Walruses was too much for her, and they were excited too, and bobbed up and down on the waves more wildly than ever. They all shouted to her at once of the pleasures in store for her, but a large wave that curled lovingly around Sapphira's feet, quite wetting her shoes and stockings, brought her to herself reminded her rather unpleasantly that she would probably be scolded when she got home.
She started at once, however, thinking it was better to have it over, and the joy of to-morrow could not be spoiled by a scolding about wet feet. As she went by the Flying Pig's cage, she stopped a minute and asked him if he would like to get out. He looked at her with one eye, the other being closed, and said sleepily,
"I never have been out. Silly girl! you know the cage is locked."
"But would you like to?" persisted Sapphira.
The Pig moved restlessly in the straw. "Don't talk about it, please," he said, "it makes me feel wakeful."
Sapphira laughed and ran off to the house, thinking gleefully how pleased he would be to-morrow.