bian is simply horrible; so at the Woggle-Bug's speech
they set up a howl of fear, and the Shiek shouted:

"Unbind him! Let not a hair of his head be injured!"

At once the knots in the ropes were untied, and the Woggle-Bug was
free. All the Arabs united to show him deference and every respectful
attention, and since his own hat had been destroyed they wound about
his head a picturesque turban of an exquisite soiled white color,
having stripes of red and yellow in it.

Then the Woggle-Bug was escorted to the tents, where he suddenly
remembered his precious plaids, and asked that the cloth he restored to
him.

Thereupon the Shiek got up and made a long speech, in which he
described his grief at being obliged to refuse the request.

At the end of that time one of the women came op to them with a lovely
waistcoat which she had manufactured out of the Wagnerian plaids; and
when the Shiek saw it he immediately ordered all the tom-toms and
kettle-drums in the camp destroyed, as they were no longer necessary.
Then he put on the gorgeous vestment, and turned a deaf ear to the
Woggle-Bug's agonized wails.

But there were some scraps of cloth left, and to show that he was
liberal and good-natured, the Shiek ordered these manufactured into a
handsome necktie, which he presented Woggle-Bug in another long speech.

Our hero, realizing a larger part of his darling was lost to him,
decided to be content with the smaller share; so he put on the necktie,
and felt really proud of its brilliance and aggressive elegance.

Then, bidding the Arabs farewell, he strode across the desert until he
reached the borders of a more fertile and favored country.

Indeed, he found before him a cool and enticing jungle, which at first
seemed deserted. But while he stared about him a sound fell upon his
ear, and he saw approaching a young lady Chimpanzee. She was evidently
a personage of some importance, for her hair was neatly banged just
over her eyes, and she wore a clean white pinafore with bows of pink
ribbon at the shoulders.

"Good morning, Mr. Beetle," said she, with merry laughter.

"Do not, I beg of you, call me a beetle," exclaimed our hero, rather
peevishly; "for I am actually a Woggle-Bug, and Highly-Magnified at
that!"

"What's in a name?" laughed the gay damsel. "Come, let me introduce you
to our jungle, where strangers of good breeding are always welcome."

"As for breeding," said the Woggle-Bug, "my father, although of
ord