Inside the house there was but one large room, simply
but comfortably furnished. It had benches, a table and a
fireplace, all made of stone. On the hearth a pot was
bubbling and steaming, and Trot thought it had a rather
nice smell. The visitors seated themselves upon the
benches -- except the Ork. which squatted by the fireplace
-- and the Bumpy Man began stirring the kettle briskly.

"May I ask what country this is, sir?" inquired Cap'n
Bill.

"Goodness me -- fruit-cake and apple-sauce! --don't you
know where you are?" asked the Bumpy Man, as he stopped
stirring and looked at the speaker in surprise.

"No," admitted Cap'n Bill. "We've just arrived."

"Lost your way?" questioned the Bumpy Man.

"Not exactly," said Cap'n Bill. "We didn't have any way
to lose."

"Ah!" said the Bumpy Man, nodding his bumpy head.
"This," he announced, in a solemn, impressive voice, "is
the famous Land of Mo."

"Oh!" exclaimed the sailor and the girl, both in one
breath. But, never having heard of the Land of Mo, they
were no wiser than before.