Tommy Twister’s Discovery 269

were sparing with the tiddlers, because there
was only a small supply.

They came to floating lumps of ice.

“We must be getting near the North
Pole,” said Tommy. ‘ How’s the compass?”

For he had not forgotten to bring away
the compass with him. It was hanging up
on a nail on the wall.

‘It’s pointing up to the sky,” said Billy.

‘“What nonsense!” said Tommy. ‘“ Z7%at
can’t be the way to the North Pole. It must
be a bad compass—or perhaps it hasn’t been
wound up.”

“Wound up!” said Billy in deep scorn.
‘‘Compasses don’t want winding up!”

“Qh,” said Tommy, ‘don’t they? I
suppose you are going to teach me about
compasses? Whose compass is that—mine
or yours?”

“Why, yours.”

“Very well then,” retorted Tommy. “ Per-
haps I ought to know it best. I don’t care
a bit what other compasses want—z7ne
wants winding up.”

And he took it down and pretended to