“Why， there it is！” cried the Prince. “Of course！ The blessing of Aslan upon this honest Marsh.wiggle. We have all been dreaming， these last few minutes. How could we have forgotten it？ Of course we‘ve all seen the sun.”
“By Jove， so we have！” said Scrubb. “Good for you， Puddleglum！ You’re the only one of us with any sense， I do believe.”
Then came the Witch‘s voice， cooing softly like the voice of a wood.pigeon from the high elms in an old garden at three o’clock in the middle of a sleepy， summer afternoon； and it said：
“What is this sun that you all speak of ？ Do you mean anything by the word？”
“Yes， we jolly well do，” said Scrubb.
“Can you tell me what it‘s like？” asked the Witch （thrum， hrum， thrum， went the strings）.
“Please it your Grace，” said the Prince， very coldly and olitely. “You see that lamp. It is round and yellow and gives ght to the whole room， and hangeth moreover from the oof. Now that thing which we call the sun is like the lamp， nly far greater and brighter. It giveth light to the whole verworld and hangeth in the sky.”
