As they drew nearer， the figure turned its head and showed them a long thin face with rather sunken cheeks， a tightly shut mouth， a sharp nose， and no beard. He was wearing a high， pointed hat like a steeple， with an enormously wide flat brim. The hair， if it could be called hair， which hung over his large ears was greeny.grey， and each lock was flat rather than round， so that they were like tiny reeds. His expression was solemn， his complexionuddy， and you could see at once that he took a serious ew of life.
“Good morning， Guests，” he said. “Though when I say ood I don’t mean it won‘t probably turn to rain or it might e snow， or fog， or thunder. You didn’t get any sleep， I dare ay.
“Yes we did， though，” said Jill. “We had a lovely night.”
“Ah，” said the Marsh.wiggle， shaking his head. “I see ou‘re making the best of a bad job. That’s right. You‘ve een well brought up， you have. You’ve learned to put a ood face on things.”
“Please， we don‘t know your name，” said Scrubb. “Puddleglum’s my name. But it doesn‘t matter if you orget it. I can always tell you again.”
