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 gravel⁴ in the pretty paths was pink. Many shades of color were there, of course, grading from a faint blush rose to deep pink verging⁵ on red, but no other color was visible. In the sky hung a pink glow, with rosy⁶ 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 prevailing⁷ 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 glistening⁸ bravely in the pink sunshine, while hundreds of pink banners floated from its numerous domes⁹. 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 pruning¹⁰ its feathers to remove the wet of the fog.

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