So Junior held his nose tight
"Oh!" cried the boy.
All about was a beautiful, white, glistening, sandy city; houses, fences, streets, all of sand. The place where they were standing seemed to be a sort of park with cute, little, carved, sandy benches amid the sand grass, and several tall fountains spouting sand in a fine spray.
"Well, how do you like it?" asked the Witch.
"Fine!" said Junior; "but where are the clams and the—"
"My goodness," said the Witch, "but you are in a hurry. I've got to find my children, first. You don't expect me to neglect my children that way, do you?"
"Oh, no," replied the boy, "of course not. But—but I didn't come here to see your children, you know. I can see children anywhere."