The country between the Fog Bank and the
city was like a vast garden, very carefully kept and as neat as wax.
The parrot was fluttering its wings and pruning its feathers to
remove the wet of the fog. Trot and Button-Bright and Cap'n Bill
were all soaked to the skin and chilled through, but as they sat
upon the pink grass they felt the rays of the sun sending them
warmth and rapidly drying their clothes; so, being tired out, they
laid themselves comfortably down and first one and then another fell
cozily asleep.
It was the parrot that aroused them.
"Look out--look out--
There's folks about!"
it screamed.
"The apple-dumplings, fat and pink, Will be here quicker than a
wink!"
Trot stared up in alarm and rubbed her eyes; Cap'n Bill rolled over
and blinked, hardly remembering where he was; Button-Bright was on
his feet in an instant. Advancing toward them were four of the
natives of the Pink Country.
Two were men and two were women, and their appearance was in sharp
contrast to that of the Blueskins. For the Pinkies were round and
chubby--almost like "apple-dumplings," as the parrot called
them--and they were not very tall, the highest of the men being no
taller than Trot or Button-Bright. They all had short necks and
legs, pink hair and eyes, rosy cheeks and pink complexions, and
their faces were good-natured and jolly in expression.
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