"I am afraid that medicine I used will never last. Most likely he will be as black as ever when he wakes up in the morning—that's one reason why I didn't like to leave the mirror with him. But then again, he might stay white—I had never used that mixture before. To tell the truth, I was surprised, myself, that it worked so well. But I had to do something, didn't I?—I couldn't possibly scrub the King's kitchen for the rest of my life. It was such a dirty kitchen!—I could see it from the prison-window.—Well, well!—Poor Bumpo!"
"Oh, of course he will know we were just joking with him," said the parrot.
"They had no business to lock us up," said Dab-Dab, waggling her tail angrily. "We never did them any harm. Serve him right, if he does turn black again! I hope it's a dark black."
"But he didn't have anything to do with it," said the Doctor. "It was the King, his father, who had us locked up—it wasn't Bumpo's fault.… I wonder if I ought to go back and apologize— Oh, well—I'll send him some candy
