And then as she looked into the creature's eyes she felt a slight dizziness coming over her and found herself swaying, but as she was a dancer and accustomed to whirling about, the feeling passed off in a moment and she was as well as ever. "Huh!" said the ancient Iff disgustedly, "why don't you turn giddy and fall down in a heap so I can eat you? Everybody does that when they look into my eyes." "Maybe they do," replied the Dancing Pearl, "but I don't. I'm too accustomed to whirling about to get dizzy so easy, so you'll have to make a meal of something else." "All right," growled the monster, glaring at Floo, "then I'll eat your gentleman friend." "Well, I guess not," said Floo. "_I_ don't intend to look into your ugly old eyes, no sir-ee." "Oh, don't you?" said the ancient Iff. "Indeed!" And with that he began to sing in a voice like a dozen bass drums: In days of old when knights were bold And dragons held their sway, The knights all fought as warriors ought To end the dragons' day. And though the dragons spouted flame The knights they whipped 'em just the same. But in the days before the craze For killing dragons flourished, There were no tiffs with ancient Iffs For Iffs were too well nourished. And though some might ignore their size, None could ignore their goo-goo eyes. So have a care--likewise beware, And look at me just so-- You have no chance! My flashing glance Will follow where you go. Gaze in my eyes--get busy, And let yourself grow dizzy. As the Grammarsaurus sang the last verse, Floo, to his horror, found himself looking into the monster's glaring eyes, and the minute he did that he began to feel giddier and giddier. "Phew!" he cried, "I--I--I feel so wobbly I can hardly keep my feet." "Ha, ha," chuckled the ancient Iff, "of course you do. And presently you'll feel even more wobbly, and then--" He turned to the Dancing Pearl. "Here," he remarked, "is where I eat your gentleman friend as I said I would. I guess you wish now he hadn't tried to take you from me when I was a hermit, don't you?" "Indeed I do not," retorted the Dancing Pearl, "for I am not going to let you eat my gentleman friend. Your eyes may make him dizzy but unless he falls in a heap you cannot eat him. And as I never get giddy I shall hold him up." And with that she put her arm about Floo's neck and drew his arm about her waist, and though his legs were very, very unsteady she managed to keep him from falling while the Grammarsaurus walked about smacking his lips enviously. "Now look here," he said to the Dancing Pearl, "you seem to forget this is a private matter between your gentleman friend and myself, and I cannot see why you mix in it, I really cannot." "Well, maybe you can't," replied the Dancing Pearl, "but I can. So you might as well shoo yourself away."