"But," said Floo, "are you quite sure you can do it?"
"Yes, indeed," replied the girl. "I'm as light as a feather on my feet. I haven't been a dancer for nothing."
And sure enough, when the Grammarsaurus, puffing and snorting, tried to scrouge her to nothing at the rear of the cave, she sprang swiftly aside, and in a moment was beside Floo outside the entrance. And then, just as the furious creature was galloping toward the door of the cavern to try to crush them outside, Floo, looking in his book, wiggled his fingers and repeated hastily:
Cave, bar the monster's rage—
Four, three, two, one.
Cave, turn into a cage—
Do, do it, doing, done.
Then he stamped his foot, and bing—instead of a rocky cave there stood before them a fine, big, iron cage, strong enough to hold anything, and inside of it was the Grammarsaurus.
"Oh," cried the Dancing Pearl, "what a delightful idea!"
"Yes," said Floo, "I just happened to think that even if I couldn't transform the Grammarsaurus there was no reason why I could not transform the cave. So I did."