human
Oh!
gpt
I told you so! growled the Fresh-Air Fiend, pulling out the lance hastily.
human
Tell me, John Dough, are you dead, or are you just dying?
gpt
Neither one, said John, ruefully pushing together the hole that the lance had made;
human
I beg your pardon! I really beg your pardon! said the Blunderer, greatly distressed at what he had done.
gpt
I had no intention of hurting you.
human
He means well, said the Incubator Baby;
gpt
He won't last long in this Island,
human
Being made of gingerbread, he can't be expected to last,
gpt
He shall have my protection, said the Blunderer.
human
It's the least I can do to make amends. Here--put on this armour!
gpt
No, no! exclaimed John.
human
I don't want to wear all that hardware.
gpt
But you must! cried the Blunderer.
human
It's the only way you can escape accident in this awful Island.
gpt
That's true enough, agreed the big-headed man.
human
I advise you to wear the armor, my gingerbread friend.