The letters are always the same, only the arrangement varies. If you stop to think about it, you’ll have to admit that all the stories in the world consist essentially of twenty-six letters. Then, turning back to Bastian he whispered in his ear: ‘They can’t talk anymore. He motioned to the players and cried out: ‘Good work, children! Keep at it! Don’t give up!’ ‘It’s called the jumble game,’ answered Argax. ‘What are they doing?’ Bastian whispered. The people kept jumbling the cubes and then staring at them. On the ground lay a large number of cubes, and there were letters on all six sides of the cubes. They didn’t speak, each one was alone with himself. Bastian saw a large group of people, men and women, young and old, all in the strangest clothes.
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