The street ahead was filled with Figure Heads and as Kabumpo paused they began forming themselves into sums. The first row sat down, the next knelt behind them, the third stood up, the fourth nimbly leaped upon the shoulders of the third, and so on, until a long addition confronted the travelers.
"Now," said Count It Up in his blunt way, "as you haven't figures for heads, let us see if you have heads for figures." Kabumpo pushed back his pearl headdress and drops of perspiration began to run down his trunk. Prince Pompa, lying flat on Kabumpo's head, started to add up the first line of figures.
"Eighty-three," he announced anxiously.
"Say three and eight to carry," snapped Count It Up. "Here, Three!" A Three stepped out of the crowd and placed itself under the line. "I've got to be carried!" cried Eight, looking sulkily at Pompa.
"Carried!" snorted Kabumpo, snatching Eight into the air. "Well, I'll attend to you. You do the adding, Pompa, and I'll do the carrying."
He landed the Eight head down at the bottom of the line of Figure Heads and swung his trunk carelessly while he waited for his next victim. So, slowly and painfully, Pompa counted up the long lines and Kabumpo carried and if they made the slightest mistake
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