The Wigs now began to form themselves into a semicircle, the smallest nearest the door, and the others standing behind them so that they could see over their heads.

It was a half-holiday for Laptitza, the second daughter of the Prisoner, and Papylick brought her in so that she could see the review of the troops.

Laptitza was shown to a low chair in the midst of the semicircle formed by the Wigs.

Laptitza was so beautiful that it would not have been possible to have painted her portrait.

The soldiers arrived in Indian file, one behind the other.

"There are a hundred and two of them," announced the Chief Contractor, looking furtively at Smaly. He shot this look through the eyeholes of the mask which he had just slipped on and which appeared to be made in two halves, for while one half expressed severe authority, the other was all gentleness.

"One hundred and two," repeated Smaly in a perfectly expressionless voice.

"My brother used to have only one hundred," said the Despoiler, "but I made him understand that they could not possibly march until they had one at the head and one at the tail, and that makes one hundred and two." It was now the Despoiler's turn to look slyly at the two little human beings and see how they took his remark.

The soldiers came on in a straight line towards the great door of the kitchen. They had an extraordinarily complicated method of marching, taking two steps in advance and then one backwards, and this was made all the more difficult for them because discipline enjoined that each man should place his feet accurately in the footsteps of the leader. This man's feet, by an ingenious arrangement, left white marks in the ground.

When the leading soldier arrived at the door, since it was not permitted him to turn his back upon such an august assembly, he had to take his departure marching backwards, and so had all those who followed after him. From that moment there were two long lines of soldiers, one going forwards, the other going backwards; but all the soldiers had their noses, their chests, their knees, and their big toes pointing in the same direction—the door of the kitchen.

When the review was over, the Chief Contractor was so pleased that he decided that they must have a similar review every week. He had a fence erected round the traces left by the soldiers' feet, so that they would not be effaced, but could be used again each week.

Just as this was finished Smaly noticed that the eye of the Mother of the Crow was regarding him steadfastly. Suddenly the eye winked as though to signal him to approach. Smaly began to walk towards the eye; but it occurred to him on reflection that it was towards the Mother of the Crow herself that he ought to turn his steps, and not towards her eye, which, after all, was merely hung in a locket round the neck of her son. Therefore he turned and approached the oyster-shell, where the Mother of the Crow was seated.

The Wigs were no longer taking any notice of him; they were eating ices, and chatting together in their mellifluous voices. They had all put on thick gloves, for the warmth of the fresh pastry of which their hands were composed would have melted the ices.

"None of them really knows what a soldier is," said the Mother of the Crow in a low voice to Smaly.

"Oh," said Smaly; "but you know, don't you?"

"Certainly I know. Soldiers are beings who cut up the meat that men like you eat, who hack down big trees, who kill the beautiful horned animals for food. You see I know perfectly well what a soldier is, and one can always tell a real soldier because he carries big knives, axes, saws, razors, and scythes."

"H'm! Not at all," contradicted Smaly with the air of one beginning a lecture. "A soldier is a man who fights other soldiers."

"What?" asked the Mother of the Crow. "How is that possible when they are both the same thing?"

"I assure you that it is so," replied Smaly.

The Mother of the Crow reflected; but catching sight of the Wigs, who were putting the soldiers back in their boxes at the end of the courtyard, she began again.

"He," she said, nodding her head towards the Chief Contractor, "has no idea of what a soldier is. He has never seen one excepting in a painting that a cousin sent him. It is a painting that represents a court in full dress. There are several soldiers with knives standing round the cousin, who is the President of the Republic of Pasenipus. They wear breastplates of gold to prevent the blood of the animals they kill soiling their fine coats. The Chief Contractor thought that these breastplates must be eggs, and, as you see, these soldiers are just eggs with legs. The Chief Contractor has had oxeye daisies fastened to their heels, because in the picture there were golden daisies fastened to the boots of the soldiers."

"Those must have been spurs!" explained Smaly absently, his attention being distracted by a curious rattling noise from afar off.

"I don't know what spurs are," admitted the Mother of the Crow; "but the Chief Contractor doesn't even know what the shield is that each soldier carries to protect his face from the horns of the animals. He doesn't even know that soldiers carry knives," she added, "but has put in his soldiers' hands flowers with long stalks. He doesn't know what a helmet is, for he thought that soldiers must be a sort of bird with a plume on their heads."

Smaly didn't mind. He had very much admired the feathered heads, and, above all, he admired the shields, which were made of pearly shell-fish, but before the review the Wigs had eaten the contents of these beautiful shields lest the shell-fish should all have hidden their faces from fright.

When the Wigs had placed the soldiers in the boxes the Young Stork and Papylick came towards Smaly. The Stork took charge of the Mother of the Crow to conduct her back to her house, which was in a cosy nook in a great tree of coral.

Smaly and Redy now wished to go, but Papylick informed them that neither the sun nor moon having yet set, it was not possible, and so the little husband and wife sat down on their heels in the doorway of the kitchen.

The rattling sound had now come nearer, and the Chief Contractor appeared in the public square surrounded by Wigs pushing wheelbarrows and turning rattles.

These Wigs laid the rattles in the wheelbarrows, and everything became quiet once more.

Then the Chief Contractor advanced boldly into the full sunshine, and the Wigs, who watched him put one foot in front of the other, prepared also to advance.

The Chief Contractor had made a few changes in his costume. He still wore his big ring and his box marked "Soy"; but a huge hat now covered his head. Little shelves were hung all about his person, and on these and on his hat were placed pots and jars, cakes and flagons. He had many more than the Confectioner, who, after all, was only his lieutenant. He carried a quiverful of ebony knives, and an urn from which stuck out long bamboo spoons. His masks were slung from the end of a stick. He touched his lips with his magic ring, then he agitated the castanets which hung at his knee, and cried:

"Food, food! Come in by the door, come in by the door," and he shut his mouth up again quickly with his left thumb.

"I don't see a door, or even a place for a door. There isn't anything," said Smaly to Papylick.

"There it is," said Redy, pointing towards a little door which stood in the middle of the square. "There's no wall, but that is a door. See, it's open," she added.

"But what's the good of that door," cried Smaly to the Chocolate Grub, which had come up beside him and was waiting with the others to go and get his provisions.

"I know nothing about doors," said the Grub sharply. "You must ask some specialist in such matters; some one who knows about draughts and opening and shutting. Some one, in fact, who looks like a doorkeeper," and the Grub withdrew proudly.

Smaly realized that he had been lacking in tact to mention the word "door" to the Grub, who always pretended that he was not a doorkeeper. Papylick explained to the two little people:

"If there weren't a door the people would simply tear the Chief Contractor to bits to get at the food."

"But——" began Smaly.

"And anyway the door was open," said Redy.

"That's true," replied Papylick, "but nevertheless it's so narrow that only one person can go through at a time."

And, indeed, each Wig was passing singly through the little door to receive in his pot or pan a drop of gooseberry jam or a morsel of cake or apple, or one or two cherry-stones.

The Chief Contractor served out his goods with his bamboo spoons. When the Wigs were served they made their way in single file towards two posts which stood in the square, and passed very carefully between them so as not to spill any of their precious provisions.

And every one had received from the Contractor a little powder in a box like a small snuff-box labelled "Soy."

Back in their kitchen the Wigs sprinkled a pinch of the Soy powder on their crumbs of cake and spots of jam, and then taking hands danced slowly round the table, singing, while the little crumbs of food began to grow bigger and bigger. The fragments of cake became whole cakes, the spots of jam swelled to marvellous jellies, and the cherry-stones became baskets full of the most succulent fruits. When they had finished their song they did not shut their mouths up again, thereby attaining two excellent results—the song went on and on while they could eat their dessert at their ease.