Kis-smee was overjoyed to get out of the train, and eagerly strained at the chain which his had to his collar, in his endeavor to get through the barrier.  
The porter, however, who pretended not to know us, demanded our tickets.
 
“It’s all right,” said his Majesty, smilingly. “I’m the Wallypug, you know.”
 
“Nonsense,” said the porter. “The Wallypug was ugly enough, goodness knows, but he hadn’t a blue face like you; besides, Wallypug or no Wallypug, you don’t get through here without a ticket, I can tell you.”
 
Here was a pretty . We had not thought in the least about tickets, and in fact had no idea that any would be required.
 
“I certainly shan’t let you pass the barrier without,” said the porter, in answer to our explanations.
 
“But what are we to do?” asked the Wallypug. “Can’t we pay at this end?”
 
“Certainly not. My instructions are to demand a ticket of every one passing this barrier, and unless you give me one you cannot go through.”
 
“But I tell you we haven’t any. Can’t you tell us what to do?”
 
“Go back for them, I should say,” said the porter, yawning unconcernedly. “Now then, one thing or another. Are you going to give me the tickets or not?”
 
“How can we give them to you if we haven’t any?” demanded the Wallypug. The porter slammed the door to impatiently, and went a little way up the platform, turning around to call out warningly, “If we find any suspicious-looking characters hanging about the station we shoot them.”
 
“What nonsense!” cried the Wallypug, and kicking the gate. “We can’t stop here all day. Let’s call the station-master. Hi! hi! station-master!” he shouted.
 
No one answered for a few minutes, but eventually a door some little distance up the platform opened, and the old station-master made his appearance, and blowing, and followed by the porter, carrying a huge blunderbuss.
 
“Now then, what’s all this noise about?” he demanded.
 
“We want to get out, if you please,” said the Wallypug.
 
“Where are your tickets,” demanded the station-master.
 
“We are very sorry,” I began in explanation.
 
“Hold your tongue, and speak when you are spoken to,” interrupted the station-master.
 
“Where are your tickets?”
 
“They haven’t any,” explained the porter officiously. “They are trying to the company.”
 
“H’m, funny-looking lot of people, too,” remarked the station-master. “Who are they, do you know?”
 
“That,” said the porter, pointing to his Majesty, “says he is the Wallypug.”
 
“What! that color!” objected the station-master. “The Wallypug! Indeed, what nonsense!”
 
“But, indeed, I am the Wallypug,” declared his Majesty, “and we turned this color after we drank the tea, you know.”
 
“Turned blue through drinking tea!” said the station-master incredulously.
 
“Ha! ha! a likely story,” laughed the porter .
 
“Perhaps it will wear off in time,” said the Wallypug, “like being sunburnt does.”
 
“Very well then, you had better stop here till it does,” said the station-master. “Look here!” he cried, turning to the porter, “you stop here at the barrier, and don’t let them through until they have turned a respectable color, and you can recognize them.”
 
“But it may take week............