It was a Pink Country indeed. The grass was a soft pink, the trees
were pink, all the fences and buildings which they saw in the near
distance were pink--even the gravel in the pretty paths was pink.
Many shades of color were there, of course, grading from a faint
blush rose to deep pink verging on red, but no other color was
visible. In the sky hung a pink glow, with rosy clouds floating here
and there, and the sun was not silvery white, as we see it from the
Earth, but a distinct pink.

The sun was high in the sky just now, which proved the adventurers
had been a long time in passing through the Fog Bank. But all of
them were wonderfully relieved to reach this beautiful country in
safety, for aside from the danger that threatened them in the Blue
Country, the other side of the island was very depressing. Here the
scene that confronted them was pretty and homelike, except for the
prevailing color and the fact that all the buildings were round,
without a single corner or angle.

Half a mile distant was a large City, its pink tintings glistening
bravely in the pink sunshine, while hundreds of pink banners floated
from its numerous domes. 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