Infomotions, Inc.The Lost Princess of Oz / Baum, L. Frank (Lyman Frank), 1856-1919



Author: Baum, L. Frank (Lyman Frank), 1856-1919
Title: The Lost Princess of Oz
Publisher: Project Gutenberg
Tag(s): frogman; ozma; cayke; ugu; dorothy; wizard; dishpan; woozy; sawhorse; cookie cook; cookie; shoemaker; patchwork girl; betsy; magic; toto; patchwork; button; magician; scraps; high coco; emerald city; pink bear; wicker castle; stolen; pink; trot; lion; lav
Contributor(s): Elwes, R. H. M. (Robert Harvey Monro), 1853- [Translator]
Versions: original; local mirror; HTML (this file); printable
Services: find in a library; evaluate using concordance
Rights: GNU General Public License
Size: 48,661 words (really short) Grade range: 8-10 (high school) Readability score: 70 (easy)
Identifier: etext959
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The Lost Princess of Oz

by L. Frank Baum

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THE LOST PRINCESS OF OZ
by L. FRANK BAUM


This Book is Dedicated
To My Granddaughter
OZMA BAUM


To My Readers

Some of my youthful readers are developing wonderful
imaginations. This pleases me. Imagination has brought
mankind through the Dark Ages to its present state of
civilization. Imagination led Columbus to discover
America. Imagination led Franklin to discover
electricity. Imagination has given us the steam engine,
the telephone, the talking-machine and the automobile,
for these things had to be dreamed of before they
became realities. So I believe that dreams -- day
dreams, you know, with your eyes wide open and your
brain-machinery whizzing -- are likely to lead to the
betterment of the world. The imaginative child will
become the imaginative man or woman most apt to create,
to invent, and therefore to foster civilization. A
prominent educator tells me that fairy tales are of
untold value in developing imagination in the young. I
believe it.

Among the letters I receive from children are many
containing suggestions of "what to write about in the
next Oz Book." Some of the ideas advanced are mighty
interesting, while others are too extravagant to be
seriously considered -- even in a fairy tale. Yet I
like them all, and I must admit that the main idea in
"The Lost Princess of Oz" was suggested to me by a
sweet little girl of eleven who called to see me and to
talk about the Land of Oz. Said she: "I s'pose if Ozma
ever got lost, or stolen, ev'rybody in Oz would be
dreadful sorry."

That was all, but quite enough foundation to build
this present story on. If you happen to like the story,
give credit to my little friend's clever hint.

L. Frank Baum
Royal Historian of Oz


1 A Terrible Loss
2 The Troubles of Glinda the Good
3 The Robbery of Cayke the Cookie Cook
4 Among the Winkies
5 Ozma's Friends Are Perplexed
6 The Search Party
7 The Merry-Go-Round Mountains
8 The Mysterious City
9 The High Coco-Lorum of Thi
10 Toto Loses Something
11 Button-Bright Loses Himself
12 The Czarover of Herku
13 The Truth Pond
14 The Unhappy Ferryman
15 The Big Lavender Bear
16 The Little Pink Bear
17 The Meeting
18 The Conference
19 Ugu the Shoemaker
20 More Surprises
21 Magic Against Magic
22 In the Wicker Castle
23 The Defiance of Ugu the Shoemaker
24 The Little Pink Bear Speaks Truly
25 Ozma of Oz
26 Dorothy Forgives



THE LOST PRINCESS

BY L.  FRANK BAUM



CHAPTER 1

A TERRIBLE LOSS

There could be no doubt of the fact: Princess Ozma, the lovely girl
ruler of the Fairyland of Oz, was lost.  She had completely
disappeared.Not one of her subjects--not even her closest
friends--knew what had become of her.  It was Dorothy who first
discovered it.  Dorothy was a little Kansas girl who had come to the
Land of Oz to live and had been given a delightful suite of rooms in
Ozma's royal palace just because Ozma loved Dorothy and wanted her to
live as near her as possible so the two girls might be much together.

Dorothy was not the only girl from the outside world who had been
welcomed to Oz and lived in the royal palace.  There was another named
Betsy Bobbin, whose adventures had led her to seek refuge with Ozma,
and still another named Trot, who had been invited, together with her
faithful companion Cap'n Bill, to make her home in this wonderful
fairyland.  The three girls all had rooms in the palace and were great
chums; but Dorothy was the dearest friend of their gracious Ruler and
only she at any hour dared to seek Ozma in her royal apartments.  For
Dorothy had lived in Oz much longer than the other girls and had been
made a Princess of the realm.

Betsy was a year older than Dorothy and Trot was a year younger, yet
the three were near enough of an age to become great playmates and to
have nice times together.  It was while the three were talking
together one morning in Dorothy's room that Betsy proposed they make a
journey into the Munchkin Country, which was one of the four great
countries of the Land of Oz ruled by Ozma.  "I've never been there
yet," said Betsy Bobbin, "but the Scarecrow once told me it is the
prettiest country in all Oz."

"I'd like to go, too," added Trot.


"All right," said Dorothy.  "I'll go and ask Ozma.  Perhaps she will
let us take the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon, which would be much nicer
for us than having to walk all the way.  This Land of Oz is a pretty
big place when you get to all the edges of it."

So she jumped up and went along the halls of the splendid palace until
she came to the royal suite, which filled all the front of the second
floor.  In a little waiting room sat Ozma's maid, Jellia Jamb, who was
busily sewing.  "Is Ozma up yet?" inquired Dorothy.

"I don't know, my dear," replied Jellia.  "I haven't heard a word from
her this morning.  She hasn't even called for her bath or her
breakfast, and it is far past her usual time for them."

"That's strange!" exclaimed the little girl.

"Yes," agreed the maid, "but of course no harm could have happened to
her.  No one can die or be killed in the Land of Oz, and Ozma is
herself a powerful fairy, and she has no enemies so far as we know.
Therefore I am not at all worried about her, though I must admit her
silence is unusual."

"Perhaps," said Dorothy thoughtfully, "she has overslept.  Or she may
be reading or working out some new sort of magic to do good to her
people."

"Any of these things may be true," replied Jellia Jamb, "so I haven't
dared disturb our royal mistress.  You, however, are a privileged
character, Princess, and I am sure that Ozma wouldn't mind at all if
you went in to see her."

"Of course not," said Dorothy, and opening the door of the outer
chamber, she went in.  All was still here.  She walked into another
room, which was Ozma's boudoir, and then, pushing back a heavy drapery
richly broidered with threads of pure gold, the girl entered the
sleeping-room of the fairy Ruler of Oz.  The bed of ivory and gold was
vacant; the room was vacant; not a trace of Ozma was to be found.
Very much surprised, yet still with no fear that anything had happened
to her friend, Dorothy returned through the boudoir to the other rooms
of the suite.  the bath, the wardrobe, and even into the great throne
room, which adjoined the royal suite, but in none of these places
could she find Ozma.

So she returned to the anteroom where she had left the maid, Jellia
Jamb, and said, "She isn't in her rooms now, so she must have gone
out."

"I don't understand how she could do that without my seeing her,"
replied Jellia, "unless she made herself invisible."

"She isn't there, anyhow," declared Dorothy.

"Then let us go find her," suggested the maid, who appeared to be a
little uneasy.  So they went into the corridors, and there Dorothy
almost stumbled over a queer girl who was dancing lightly along the
passage.

"Stop a minute, Scraps!" she called, "Have you seen Ozma this
morning?"

"Not I!" replied the queer girl, dancing nearer."I lost both my eyes
in a tussle with the Woozy last night, for the creature scraped 'em
both off my face with his square paws.  So I put the eyes in my
pocket, and this morning Button-Bright led me to Aunt Em, who sewed
'em on again.  So I've seen nothing at all today, except during the
last five minutes.  So of course I haven't seen Ozma."

"Very well, Scraps," said Dorothy, looking curiously at the eyes,
which were merely two round, black buttons sewed upon the girl's face.

There were other things about Scraps that would have seemed curious to
one seeing her for the first time.  She was commonly called "the
Patchwork Girl" because her body and limbs were made from a
gay-colored patchwork quilt which had been cut into shape and stuffed
with cotton.  Her head was a round ball stuffed in the same manner and
fastened to her shoulders.  For hair, she had a mass of brown yarn,
and to make a nose for her a part of the cloth had been pulled out
into the shape of a knob and tied with a string to hold it in place.
Her mouth had been carefully made by cutting a slit in the proper
place and lining it with red silk, adding two rows of pearls for teeth
and a bit of red flannel for a tongue.

In spite of this queer make-up, the Patchwork Girl was magically alive
and had proved herself not the least jolly and agreeable of the many
quaint characters who inhabit the astonishing Fairyland of Oz.
Indeed, Scraps was a general favorite, although she was rather flighty
and erratic and did and said many things that surprised her friends.
She was seldom still, but loved to dance, to turn handsprings and
somersaults, to climb trees and to indulge in many other active
sports.

"I'm going to search for Ozma," remarked Dorothy, "for she isn't in
her rooms, and I want to ask her a question."

"I'll go with you," said Scraps, "for my eyes are brighter than yours,
and they can see farther."

"I'm not sure of that," returned Dorothy.  "But come along, if you
like."

Together they searched all through the great palace and even to the
farthest limits of the palace grounds, which were quite extensive, but
nowhere could they find a trace of Ozma.  When Dorothy returned to
where Betsy and Trot awaited her, the little girl's face was rather
solemn and troubled, for never before had Ozma gone away without
telling her friends where she was going, or without an escort that
befitted her royal state.  She was gone, however, and none had seen
her go.  Dorothy had met and questioned the Scarecrow, Tik-Tok, the
Shaggy Man, Button-Bright, Cap'n Bill, and even the wise and powerful
Wizard of Oz, but not one of them had seen Ozma since she parted with
her friends the evening before and had gone to her own rooms.

"She didn't say anything las' night about going anywhere," observed
little Trot.

"No, and that's the strange part of it," replied Dorothy.  "Usually
Ozma lets us know of everything she does."

"Why not look in the Magic Picture?" suggested Betsy Bobbin.  "That
will tell us where she is in just one second."

"Of course!" cried Dorothy.  "Why didn't I think of that before?"  And
at once the three girls hurried away to Ozma's boudoir, where the
Magic Picture always hung.  This wonderful Magic Picture was one of
the royal Ozma's greatest treasures.  There was a large gold frame in
the center of which was a bluish-gray canvas on which various scenes
constantly appeared and disappeared.  If one who stood before it
wished to see what any person anywhere in the world was doing, it was
only necessary to make the wish and the scene in the Magic Picture
would shift to the scene where that person was and show exactly what
he or she was then engaged in doing.  So the girls knew it would be
easy for them to wish to see Ozma, and from the picture they could
quickly learn where she was.

Dorothy advanced to the place where the picture was usually protected
by thick satin curtains and pulled the draperies aside.  Then she
stared in amazement, while her two friends uttered exclamations of
disappointment.

  The Magic Picture was gone. Only a blank space on
the wall behind the curtains showed where it had formerly hung.




CHAPTER 2

THE TROUBLES OF GLINDA THE GOOD


That same morning there was great excitement in the castle of the
powerful Sorceress of Oz, Glinda the Good.  This castle, situated in
the Quadling Country, far south of the Emerald City where Ozma ruled,
was a splendid structure of exquisite marbles and silver grilles.
Here the Sorceress lived, surrounded by a bevy of the most beautiful
maidens of Oz, gathered from all the four countries of that fairyland
as well as from the magnificent Emerald City itself, which stood in
the place where the four countries cornered.  It was considered a
great honor to be allowed to serve the good Sorceress, whose arts of
magic were used only to benefit the Oz people.  Glinda was Ozma's most
valued servant, for her knowledge of sorcery was wonderful, and she
could accomplish almost anything that her mistress, the lovely girl
Ruler of Oz, wished her to.

Of all the magical things which surrounded Glinda in her castle, there
was none more marvelous than her Great Book of Records.  On the pages
of this Record Book were constantly being inscribed, day by day and
hour by hour, all the important events that happened anywhere in the
known world, and they were inscribed in the book at exactly the moment
the events happened.  Every adventure in the Land of Oz and in the big
outside world, and even in places that you and I have never heard of,
were recorded accurately in the Great Book, which never made a mistake
and stated only the exact truth.  For that reason, nothing could be
concealed from Glinda the Good, who had only to look at the pages of
the Great Book of Records to know everything that had taken place.
That was one reason she was such a great Sorceress, for the records
made her wiser than any other living person.

This wonderful book was placed upon a big gold table that stood in the
middle of Glinda's drawing room.  The legs of the table, which were
incrusted with precious gems, were firmly fastened to the tiled floor,
and the book itself was chained to the table and locked with six stout
golden padlocks, the keys to which Glinda carried on a chain that was
secured around her own neck.  The pages of the Great Book were larger
in size than those of an American newspaper, and although they were
exceedingly thin, there were so many of them that they made an
enormous, bulky volume.  With its gold cover and gold clasps, the book
was so heavy that three men could scarcely have lifted it.  Yet this
morning when Glinda entered her drawing room after breakfast, the good
Sorceress was amazed to discover that her Great Book of Records had
mysteriously disappeared.

Advancing to the table, she found the chains had been cut with some sharp 
instrument, and this must have been done while all in the castle slept.
 Glinda was shocked and grieved.  Who could have done this wicked, bold thing?  And who
could wish to deprive her of her Great Book of Records?

The Sorceress was thoughtful for a time, considering the consequences
of her loss.  Then she went to her Room of Magic to prepare a charm
that would tell her who had stolen the Record Book.  But when she
unlocked her cupboard and threw open the doors, all of her magical
instruments and rare chemical compounds had been removed from the
shelves.  The Sorceress has now both angry and alarmed.  She sat down
in a chair and tried to think how this extraordinary robbery could
have taken place.  It was evident that the thief was some person of
very great power, or the theft could not have been accomplished
without her knowledge. But who, in all the Land of Oz, was powerful
and skillful enough to do this awful thing?  And who, having the
power, could also have an object in defying the wisest and most
talented Sorceress the world has ever known?

Glinda thought over the perplexing matter for a full hour, at the end
of which time she was still puzzled how to explain it.  But although
her instruments and chemicals were gone, her KNOWLEDGE of magic had
not been stolen, by any means, since no thief, however skillful, can
rob one of knowledge, and that is why knowledge is the best and safest
treasure to acquire.  Glinda believed that when she had time to gather
more magical herbs and elixirs and to manufacture more magical
instruments, she would be able to discover who the robber was and what
had become of her precious Book of Records.

"Whoever has done this," she said to her maidens, "is a very foolish
person, for in time he is sure to be found out and will then be
severely punished."

She now made a list of the things she needed and dispatched messengers
to every part of Oz with instructions to obtain them and bring them to
her as soon as possible.  And one of her messengers met the little
Wizard of Oz, who was seated on the back of the famous live Sawhorse
and was clinging to its neck with both his arms, for the Sawhorse was
speeding to Glinda's castle with the velocity of the wind, bearing the
news that Royal Ozma, Ruler of all the great Land of Oz, had suddenly
disappeared and no one in the Emerald City knew what had become of
her.

"Also," said the Wizard as he stood before the astonished Sorceress,
"Ozma's Magic Picture is gone, so we cannot consult it to discover
where she is.  So I came to you for assistance as soon as we realized
our loss.  Let us look in the Great Book of Records."

"Alas," returned the Sorceress sorrowfully, "we cannot do that, for
the Great Book of Records has also disappeared!"




CHAPTER 3

OF CAYKE THE COOKIE COOK

One more important theft was reported in the Land of Oz that eventful
morning, but it took place so far from either the Emerald City or the
castle of Glinda the Good that none of those persons we have mentioned
learned of the robbery until long afterward.

In the far southwestern corner of the Winkie Country is a broad
tableland that can be reached only by climbing a steep hill, whichever
side one approaches it.  On the hillside surrounding this tableland
are no paths at all, but there are quantities of bramble bushes with
sharp prickers on them, which prevent any of the Oz people who live
down below from climbing up to see what is on top.  But on top live
the Yips, and although the space they occupy is not great in extent,
the wee country is all their own.  The Yips had never--up to the time
this story begins--left their broad tableland to go down into the Land
of Oz, nor had the Oz people ever climbed up to the country of the
Yips.

Living all alone as they did, the Yips had queer ways and notions of
their own and did not resemble any other people of the Land of Oz.
Their houses were scattered all over the flat surface; not like a
city, grouped together, but set wherever their owners' fancy dictated,
with fields here, trees there, and odd little paths connecting the
houses one with another.  It was here, on the morning when Ozma so
strangely disappeared from the Emerald City, that Cayke the Cookie
Cook discovered that her diamond-studded gold dishpan had been stolen,
and she raised such a hue and cry over her loss and wailed and
shrieked so loudly that many of the Yips gathered around her house to
inquire what was the matter.

It was a serious thing in any part of the Land of Oz to accuse one of
stealing, so when the Yips heard Cayke the Cookie Cook declare that
her jeweled dishpan had been stolen, they were both humiliated and
disturbed and forced Cayke to go with them to the Frogman to see what
could be done about it.  I do not suppose you have ever before heard
of the Frogman, for like all other dwellers on that tableland, he had
never been away from it, nor had anyone come up there to see him.  The
Frogman was in truth descended from the common frogs of Oz, and when
he was first born he lived in a pool in the Winkie Country and was
much like any other frog.  Being of an adventurous nature, however, he
soon hopped out of his pool and began to travel, when a big bird came
along and seized him in its beak and started to fly away with him to
its nest.  When high in the air, the frog wriggled so frantically that
he got loose and fell down, down, down into a small hidden pool on the
tableland of the Yips.  Now that pool, it seems, was unknown to the
Yips because it was surrounded by thick bushes and was not near to any
dwelling, and it proved to be an enchanted pool, for the frog grew
very fast and very big, feeding on the magic skosh which is found
nowhere else on earth except in that one pool.  And the skosh not only
made the frog very big so that when he stood on his hind legs he was
as tall as any Yip in the country, but it made him unusually
intelligent, so that he soon knew more than the Yips did and was able
to reason and to argue very well indeed.

No one could expect a frog with these talents to remain in a hidden
pool, so he finally got out of it and mingled with the people of the
tableland, who were amazed at his appearance and greatly impressed by
his learning.  They had never seen a frog before, and the frog had
never seen a Yip before, but as there were plenty of Yips and only one
frog, the frog became the most important.  He did not hop any more,
but stood upright on his hind legs and dressed himself in fine clothes
and sat in chairs and did all the things that people do, so he soon
came to be called the Frogman, and that is the only name he has ever
had.  After some years had passed, the people came to regard the
Frogman as their adviser in all matters that puzzled them.  They
brought all their difficulties to him, and when he did not know
anything, he pretended to know it, which seemed to answer just as
well.  Indeed, the Yips thought the Frogman was much wiser than he
really was, and he allowed them to think so, being very proud of his
position of authority.

There was another pool on the tableland which was not enchanted but
contained good, clear water and was located close to the dwellings.
Here the people built the Frogman a house of his own, close to the
edge of the pool so that he could take a bath or a swim whenever he
wished.  He usually swam in the pool in the early morning before
anyone else was up, and during the day he dressed himself in his
beautiful clothes and sat in his house and received the visits of all
the Yips who came to him to ask his advice.  The Frogman's usual
costume consisted of knee-breeches made of yellow satin plush, with
trimmings of gold braid and jeweled knee-buckles; a white satin vest
with silver buttons in which were set solitaire rubies; a
swallow-tailed coat of bright yellow; green stockings and red leather
shoes turned up at the toes and having diamond buckles.  He wore, when
he walked out, a purple silk hat and carried a gold-headed cane.  Over
his eyes he wore great spectacles with gold rims, not because his eyes
were bad, but because the spectacles made him look wise, and so
distinguished and gorgeous was his appearance that all the Yips were
very proud of him.

There was no King or Queen in the Yip Country, so the simple
inhabitants naturally came to look upon the Frogman as their leader as
well as their counselor in all times of emergency.  In his heart the
big frog knew he was no wiser than the Yips, but for a frog to know as
much as a person was quite remarkable, and the Frogman was shrewd
enough to make the people believe he was far more wise than he really
was.  They never suspected he was a humbug, but listened to his words
with great respect and did just what he advised them to do.

Now when Cayke the Cookie Cook raised such an outcry over the theft of
her diamond-studded dishpan, the first thought of the people was to
take her to the Frogman and inform him of the loss, thinking that of
course he would tell her where to find it.  He listened to the story
with his big eyes wide open behind his spectacles, and said in his
deep, croaking voice, "If the dishpan is stolen, somebody must have
taken it."

"But who?"asked Cayke anxiously.  "Who is the thief?"

"The one who took the dishpan, of course," replied the Frogman, and
hearing this all the Yips nodded their heads gravely and said to one
another, "It is absolutely true!"

"But I want my dishpan!" cried Cayke.

"No one can blame you for that wish," remarked the Frogman.

"Then tell me where I may find it," she urged.

The look the Frogman gave her was a very wise look, and he rose from
his chair and strutted up and down the room with his hands under his
coattails in a very pompous and imposing manner.  This was the first
time so difficult a matter had been brought to him, and he wanted time
to think.  It would never do to let them suspect his ignorance, and so
he thought very, very hard how best to answer the woman without
betraying himself.  "I beg to inform you," said he, "that nothing in
the Yip Country has ever been stolen before."

"We know that already," answered Cayke the Cookie Cook impatiently.

"Therefore," continued the Frogman, "this theft
becomes a very important matter.""Therefore," continued the Frogman, "this theft becomes a
very
important matter."

"Well, where is my dishpan?" demanded the woman.

"It is lost, but it must be found.  Unfortunately, we have no
policemen or detectives to unravel the mystery, so we must employ
other means to regain the lost article.  Cayke must first write a
Proclamation and tack it to the door of her house, and the
Proclamation must read that whoever stole the jeweled dishpan must
return it at once."

"But suppose no one returns it," suggested Cayke.

"Then," said the Frogman, "that very fact will be proof that no one
has stolen it."

Cayke was not satisfied, but the other Yips seemed to approve the plan
highly.  They all advised her to do as the Frogman had told her to, so
she posted the sign on her door and waited patiently for someone to
return the dishpan--which no one ever did.  Again she went,
accompanied by a group of her neighbors, to the Frogman, who by this
time had given the matter considerable thought.  Said he to Cayke, "I
am now convinced that no Yip has taken your dishpan, and since it is
gone from the Yip Country, I suspect that some stranger came from the
world down below us in the darkness of night when all of us were
asleep and took away your treasure.  There can be no other explanation
of its disappearance.  So if you wish to recover that golden,
diamond-studded dishpan, you must go into the lower world after it."

This was indeed a startling proposition.  Cayke and her friends went
to the edge of the flat tableland and looked down the steep hillside
to the plains below.  It was so far to the bottom of the hill that
nothing there could be seen very distinctly, and it seemed to the Yips
very venturesome, if not dangerous, to go so far from home into an
unknown land.  However, Cayke wanted her dishpan very badly, so she
turned to her friends and asked, "Who will go with me?"

No one answered the question, but after a period of silence one of the
Yips said, "We know what is here on the top of this flat hill, and it
seems to us a very pleasant place, but what is down below we do not
know.  The chances are it is not so pleasant, so we had best stay
where we are."

"It may be a far better country than this is," suggested the Cookie
Cook.

"Maybe, maybe," responded another Yip, "but why take chances?
Contentment with one's lot is true wisdom.

Perhaps in some other country there are better cookies than you cook, 
but as we have always eaten your cookies and liked them--except when
 they are burned on the bottom--we do not long for any better ones."

Cayke might have agreed to this argument had she not been so anxious
to find her precious dishpan, but now she exclaimed impatiently, "You
are cowards, all of you!  If none of you are willing to explore with
me the great world beyond this small hill, I will surely go alone."

"That is a wise resolve," declared the Yips, much relieved.  "It is
your dishpan that is lost, not ours.  And if you are willing to risk
your life and liberty to regain it, no one can deny you the
privilege."

While they were thus conversing, the Frogman joined them and looked
down at the plain with his big eyes and seemed unusually thoughtful.
In fact, the Frogman was thinking that he'd like to see more of the
world.  Here in the Yip Country he had become the most important
creature of them all, and his importance was getting to be a little
tame.  It would be nice to have other people defer to him and ask his
advice, and there seemed no reason so far as he could see why his fame
should not spread throughout all Oz.  He knew nothing of the rest of
the world, but it was reasonable to believe that there were more
people beyond the mountain where he now lived than there were Yips,
and if he went among them he could surprise them with his display of
wisdom and make them bow down to him as the Yips did.  In other words,
the Frogman was ambitious to become still greater than he was, which
was impossible if he always remained upon this mountain.  He wanted
others to see his gorgeous clothes and listen to his solemn sayings,
and here was an excuse for him to get away from the Yip Country.  So
he said to Cayke the Cookie Cook, "I will go with you, my good woman,"
which greatly pleased Cayke because she felt the Frogman could be of
much assistance to her in her search.

But now, since the mighty Frogman had decided to undertake the
journey, several of the Yips who were young and daring at once made up
their minds to go along, so the next morning after breakfast the
Frogman and Cayke the Cookie Cook and nine of the Yips started to
slide down the side of the mountain.  The bramble bushes and cactus
plants were very prickly and uncomfortable to the touch, so the
Frogman quickly commanded the Yips to go first and break a path, so
that when he followed them he would not tear his splendid clothes.
Cayke, too, was wearing her best dress and was likewise afraid of the
thorns and prickers, so she kept behind the Frogman.

They made rather slow progress and night overtook them before they
were halfway down the mountainside, so they found a cave in which they
sought shelter until morning.  Cayke had brought along a basket full
of her famous cookies, so they all had plenty to eat.  On the second
day the Yips began to wish they had not embarked on this adventure.
They grumbled a good deal at having to cut away the thorns to make the
path for the Frogman and the Cookie Cook, for their own clothing
suffered many tears, while Cayke and the Frogman traveled safely and
in comfort.

"If it is true that anyone came to our country to steal your diamond
dishpan," said one of the Yips to Cayke, "it must have been a bird,
for no person in the form of a man, woman or child could have climbed
through these bushes and back again."

"And, allowing he could have done so," said another Yip, "the
diamond-studded gold dishpan would not have repaid him for his
troubles and his tribulations."

"For my part," remarked a third Yip, "I would rather go back home and
dig and polish some more diamonds and mine some more gold and make you
another dishpan than be scratched from head to heel by these dreadful
bushes.  Even now, if my mother saw me, she would not know I am her
son."

Cayke paid no heed to these mutterings, nor did the Frogman.  Although
their journey was slow, it was being made easy for them by the Yips,
so they had nothing to complain of and no desire to turn back.  Quite
near to the bottom of the great hill they came upon a great gulf, the
sides of which were as smooth as glass.  The gulf extended a long
distance--as far as they could see in either direction--and although
it was not very wide, it was far too wide for the Yips to leap across
it.  And should they fall into it, it was likely they might never get
out again.  "Here our journey ends," said the Yips. "We must go back
again."

Cayke the Cookie Cook began to weep.

"I shall never find my pretty dishpan again, and my heart will be broken!"
 she sobbed.

The Frogman went to the edge of the gulf and with his eye carefully
measured the distance to the other side.  "Being a frog," said he, "I
can leap, as all frogs do, and being so big and strong, I am sure I
can leap across this gulf with ease.  But the rest of you, not being
frogs, must return the way you came."

"We will do that with pleasure," cried the Yips, and at once they
turned and began to climb up the steep mountain, feeling they had had
quite enough of this unsatisfactory adventure.  Cayke the Cookie Cook
did not go with them, however.  She sat on a rock and wept and wailed
and was very miserable.

"Well," said the Frogman to her, "I will now bid you goodbye.  If I
find your diamond-decorated gold dishpan, I will promise to see that
it is safely returned to you."

"But I prefer to find it myself!" she said. "See here, Frogman, why
can't you carry me across the gulf when you leap it?  You are big and
strong, while I am small and thin."

The Frogman gravely thought over this suggestion. It was a fact that
Cayke the Cookie Cook was not a heavy person.  Perhaps he could leap
the gulf with her on his back.  "If you are willing to risk a fall,"
said he, "I will make the attempt."

At once she sprang up and grabbed him around his neck with both her
arms.  That is, she grabbed him where his neck ought to be, for the
Frogman had no neck at all.  Then he squatted down, as frogs do when
they leap, and with his powerful rear legs he made a tremendous jump.
Over the gulf they sailed, with the Cookie Cook on his back, and he
had leaped so hard--to make sure of not falling in--that he sailed
over a lot of bramble bushes that grew on the other side and landed in
a clear space which was so far beyond the gulf that when they looked
back they could not see it at all.

Cayke now got off the Frogman's back and he stood erect again and 
carefully brushed the dust from his velvet coat and rearranged his white
satin necktie.

"I had no idea I could leap so far," he said wonderingly.  "Leaping is
one more accomplishment I can now add to the long list of deeds I am
able to perform."

"You are certainly fine at leap-frog," said the Cookie Cook
admiringly, "but, as you say, you are wonderful in many ways.  If we
meet with any people down here, I am sure they will consider you the
greatest and grandest of all living creatures."

"Yes," he replied, "I shall probably astonish strangers, because they
have never before had the pleasure of seeing me.  Also, they will
marvel at my great learning.  Every time I open my mouth, Cayke, I am
liable to say something important."

"That is true," she agreed, "and it is fortunate your mouth is so very
wide and opens so far, for otherwise all the wisdom might not be able
to get out of it."
"Perhaps nature made it wide for that very reason," said the Frogman.
"But come, let us now go on, for it is getting late and we must find
some sort of shelter before night overtakes us."



CHAPTER 4

AMONG THE WINKIES

The settled parts of the Winkie Country are full of happy and
contented people who are ruled by a tin Emperor named Nick Chopper,
who in turn is a subject of the beautiful girl Ruler, Ozma of Oz.  But
not all of the Winkie Country is fully settled.  At the east, which
part lies nearest the Emerald City, there are beautiful farmhouses and
roads, but as you travel west, you first come to a branch of the
Winkie River, beyond which there is a rough country where few people
live, and some of these are quite unknown to the rest of the world.
After passing through this rude section of territory, which no one
ever visits, you would come to still another branch of the Winkie
River, after crossing which you would find another well-settled part
of the Winkie Country extending westward quite to the Deadly Desert
that surrounds all the Land of Oz and separates that favored fairyland
from the more common outside world.  The Winkies who live in this west
section have many tin mines, from which metal they make a great deal
of rich jewelry and other articles, all of which are highly esteemed
in the Land of Oz because tin is so bright and pretty and there is not
so much of it as there is of gold and silver.

Not all the Winkies are miners, however, for some till the fields and
grow grains for food, and it was at one of these far-west Winkie farms
that the Frogman and Cayke the Cookie Cook first arrived after they
had descended from the mountain of the Yips.  "Goodness me!" cried
Nellary the Winkie wife when she saw the strange couple approaching
her house.  "I have seen many queer creatures in the Land of Oz, but
none more queer than this giant frog who dresses like a man and walks
on his hind legs.  Come here, Wiljon," she called to her husband, who
was eating his breakfast, "and take a look at this astonishing freak."

Wiljon the Winkie came to the door and looked out.  He was still
standing in the doorway when the Frogman approached and said with a
haughty croak, "Tell me, my good man, have you seen a diamond-studded
gold dishpan?"

"No, nor have I seen a copper-plated lobster," replied Wiljon in an
equally haughty tone.

The Frogman stared at him and said, "Do not be insolent, fellow!"

"No," added Cayke the Cookie Cook hastily, "you must be very polite to
the great Frogman, for he is the wisest creature in all the world."

"Who says that?" inquired Wiljon.

"He says so himself," replied Cayke, and the Frogman nodded and
strutted up and down, twirling his gold-headed cane very gracefully.

"Does the Scarecrow admit that this overgrown frog is the wisest
creature in the world?" asked Wiljon.

"I do not know who the Scarecrow is," answered Cayke the Cookie Cook.

"Well, he lives at the Emerald City, and he is supposed to have the
finest brains in all Oz.  The Wizard gave them to him, you know."

"Mine grew in my head," said the Frogman pompously, "so I think they
must be better than any wizard brains.  I am so wise that sometimes my
wisdom makes my head ache.  I know so much that often I have to forget
part of it, since no one creature, however great, is able to contain
so much knowledge."

"It must be dreadful to be stuffed full of wisdom," remarked Wiljon
reflectively and eyeing the Frogman with a doubtful look.  "It is my
good fortune to know very little."

"I hope, however, you know where my jeweled dishpan is," said the
Cookie Cook anxiously.

"I do not know even that," returned the Winkie."We have trouble
enough in keeping track of our own dishpans without meddling with the
dishpans of strangers."

Finding him so ignorant, the Frogman proposed that they walk on and
seek Cayke's dishpan elsewhere.  Wiljon the Winkie did not seem
greatly impressed by the great Frogman, which seemed to that personage
as strange as it was disappointing.  But others in this unknown land
might prove more respectful.

"I'd like to meet that Wizard of Oz," remarked Cayke as they walked
along a path.  "If he could give a Scarecrow brains, he might be able
to find my dishpan."

"Poof!" grunted the Frogman scornfully.  "I am greater than any
wizard.  Depend on ME.  If your dishpan is anywhere in the world, I am
sure to find it."

"If you do not, my heart will be broken," declared the Cookie Cook in
a sorrowful voice.

For a while the Frogman walked on in silence. Then he asked, "Why do
you attach so much importance to a dishpan?"

"It is the greatest treasure I possess," replied the woman.  "It
belonged to my mother and to all my grandmothers since the beginning
of time.  It is, I believe, the very oldest thing in all the Yip
Country--or was while it was there--and," she added, dropping her
voice to an awed whisper, "it has magic powers!"

"In what way?" inquired the Frogman, seeming to be surprised at this
statement.

"Whoever has owned that dishpan has been a good cook, for one thing.
No one else is able to make such good cookies as I have cooked, as you
and all the Yips know.  Yet the very morning after my dishpan was
stolen, I tried to make a batch of cookies and they burned up in the
oven!  I made another batch that proved too tough to eat, and I was so
ashamed of them that I buried them in the ground.  Even the third
batch of cookies, which I brought with me in my basket, were pretty
poor stuff and no better than any woman could make who does not own my
diamond-studded gold dishpan.  In fact, my good Frogman, Cayke the
Cookie Cook will never be able to cook good cookies again until her
magic dishpan is restored to her."

"In that case," said the Frogman with a sigh, "I suppose we must
manage to find it."


CHAPTER 5

OZMA'S FRIENDS ARE PERPLEXED

"Really," said Dorothy, looking solemn, "this is very s'prising.  We
can't even find a shadow of Ozma anywhere in the Em'rald City, and
wherever she's gone, she's taken her Magic Picture with her."  She was
standing in the courtyard of the palace with Betsy and Trot, while
Scraps, the Patchwork Girl, danced around the group, her hair flying
in the wind.

"P'raps," said Scraps, still dancing, "someone has stolen Ozma."

"Oh, they'd never dare do that!" exclaimed tiny Trot.

"And stolen the Magic Picture, too, so the thing can't tell where she
is," added the Patchwork Girl.

"That's nonsense," said Dorothy.  "Why, ev'ryone loves Ozma.  There
isn't a person in the Land of Oz who would steal a single thing she
owns."

"Huh!" replied the Patchwork Girl.  "You don't know ev'ry person in
the Land of Oz."

"Why don't I?"

"It's a big country," said Scraps.  "There are cracks and corners in
it that even Ozma doesn't know of."

"The Patchwork Girl's just daffy," declared Betsy.

"No, she's right about that," replied Dorothy thoughtfully.  "There
are lots of queer people in this fairyland who never come near Ozma or
the Em'rald City.  I've seen some of 'em myself, girls.  But I haven't
seen all, of course, and there MIGHT be some wicked persons left in Oz
yet, though I think the wicked witches have all been destroyed."

Just then the Wooden Sawhorse dashed into the courtyard with the
Wizard of Oz on his back.  "Have you found Ozma?"cried the Wizard
when the Sawhorse stopped beside them.

"Not yet," said Dorothy.  "Doesn't Glinda the Good know where she is?"

"No.  Glinda's Book of Records and all her magic instruments are gone.
Someone must have stolen them."

"Goodness me!"exclaimed Dorothy in alarm.  "This is the biggest steal
I ever heard of.  Who do you think did it, Wizard?"

"I've no idea," he answered.

  "But I have come to get my own bag of
magic tools and carry them to Glinda.  She is so much more powerful
than I that she may be able to discover the truth by means of my magic
quicker and better than I could myself."

"Hurry, then," said Dorothy, "for we've all gotten terr'bly worried."

The Wizard rushed away to his rooms but presently came back with a
long, sad face.  "It's gone!" he said.

"What's gone?" asked Scraps.

"My black bag of magic tools. Someone must have stolen it!"

They looked at one another in amazement.

"This thing is getting desperate," continued the Wizard.  
"All the magic that belongs to Ozma or to Glinda or to 
me has been stolen."

"Do you suppose Ozma could have taken them, herself, for some
purpose?" asked Betsy.

"No indeed," declared the Wizard.  "I suspect some enemy has stolen
Ozma and for fear we would follow and recapture her has taken all our
magic away from us."

"How dreadful!" cried Dorothy. "The idea of anyone wanting to injure
our dear Ozma!  Can't we do ANYthing to find her, Wizard?"

"I'll ask Glinda.  I must go straight back to her and tell her that my
magic tools have also disappeared.  The good Sorceress will be greatly
shocked, I know."

With this, he jumped upon the back of the Sawhorse again, and the
quaint steed, which never tired, dashed away at full speed.  The three
girls were very much disturbed in mind.  Even the Patchwork Girl
seemed to realize that a great calamity had overtaken them all.  Ozma
was a fairy of considerable power, and all the creatures in Oz as well
as the three mortal girls from the outside world looked upon her as
their protector and friend.  The idea of their beautiful girl Ruler's
being overpowered by an enemy and dragged from her splendid palace a
captive was too astonishing for them to comprehend at first.  Yet what
other explanation of the mystery could there be?

"Ozma wouldn't go away willingly, without letting us know about it,"
asserted Dorothy, "and she wouldn't steal Glinda's Great Book of
Records or the Wizard's magic, 'cause she could get them any time just
by asking for 'em.  I'm sure some wicked person has done all this."

"Someone in the Land of Oz?" asked Trot.

"Of course.

No one could get across the Deadly Desert, you know, and
no one but an Oz person could know about the Magic Picture and the
Book of Records and the Wizard's magic or where they were kept, and so
be able to steal the whole outfit before we could stop 'em.  It MUST
be someone who lives in the Land of Oz."

"But who--who--who?" asked Scraps.  "That's the question.  Who?"

"If we knew," replied Dorothy severely, "we wouldn't be standing 
here doing nothing."

Just then two boys entered the courtyard and approached the group of
girls.  One boy was dressed in the fantastic Munchkin costume--a blue
jacket and knickerbockers, blue leather shoes and a blue hat with a
high peak and tiny silver bells dangling from its rim--and this was
Ojo the Lucky, who had once come from the Munchkin Country of Oz and
now lived in the Emerald City.  The other boy was an American from
Philadelphia and had lately found his way to Oz in the company of Trot
and Cap'n Bill.  His name was Button-Bright; that is, everyone called
him by that name and knew no other.  Button-Bright was not quite as
big as the Munchkin boy, but he wore the same kind of clothes, only
they were of different colors.  As the two came up to the girls, arm
in arm, Button-Bright remarked, "Hello, Dorothy.  They say Ozma is
lost."

"WHO says so?" she asked.

."Ev'rybody's talking about it in the City," he replied.

"I wonder how the people found it out," Dorothy asked.

"I know," said Ojo.   "Jellia Jamb told them. She has been asking
everywhere if anyone has seen Ozma."

"That's too bad," observed Dorothy, frowning.

"Why?" asked Button-Bright.

"There wasn't any use making all our people unhappy till we were dead
certain that Ozma can't be found."

"Pshaw," said Button-Bright, "it's nothing to get lost.  I've been
lost lots of times."

"That's true," admitted Trot, who knew that the boy had a habit of
getting lost and then finding himself again, "but it's diff'rent with
Ozma.  She's the Ruler of all this big fairyland, and we're 'fraid
that the reason she's lost is because somebody has stolen her away."

"Only wicked people steal," said Ojo.  "Do you know of any wicked
people in Oz, Dorothy?"

"No," she replied.

"They're here, though," cried Scraps, dancing up to them and then
circling around the group.  "Ozma's stolen; someone in Oz stole her;
only wicked people steal; so someone in Oz is wicked!"

There was no denying the truth of this statement.  The faces of all of
them were now solemn and sorrowful.  "One thing is sure," said
Button-Bright after a time, "if Ozma has been stolen, someone ought to
find her and punish the thief."

"There may be a lot of thieves," suggested Trot gravely, "and in this
fairy country they don't seem to have any soldiers or policemen."

"There is one soldier," claimed Dorothy.

"He has green whiskers and a gun and is a Major-General, 
but no one is afraid of either his gun or his whiskers, 'cause 
he's so tender-hearted that he wouldn't hurt a fly."


"Well, a soldier is a soldier," said Betsy, "and perhaps he'd hurt a
wicked thief if he wouldn't hurt a fly.  Where is he?"

"He went fishing about two months ago and hasn't come back yet,"
explained Button-Bright.

"Then I can't see that he will be of much use to us in this trouble,"
sighed little Trot.  "But p'raps Ozma, who is a fairy, can get away
from the thieves without any help from anyone."

"She MIGHT be able to," answered Dorothy reflectively, "but if she had
the power to do that, it isn't likely she'd have let herself be
stolen.  So the thieves must have been even more powerful in magic
than our Ozma."

There was no denying this argument, and although they talked the
matter over all the rest of that day, they were unable to decide how
Ozma had been stolen against her will or who had committed the
dreadful deed.  Toward evening the Wizard came back, riding slowly
upon the Sawhorse because he felt discouraged and perplexed.  Glinda
came later in her aerial chariot drawn by twenty milk-white swans, and
she also seemed worried and unhappy.  More of Ozma's friends joined
them, and that evening they all had a big talk together.  "I think,"
said Dorothy, "we ought to start out right away in search of our dear
Ozma.  It seems cruel for us to live comf'tably in her palace while
she is a pris'ner in the power of some wicked enemy."

"Yes," agreed Glinda the Sorceress, "someone ought to search for her.
I cannot go myself, because I must work hard in order to create some
new instruments of sorcery by means of which I may rescue our fair
Ruler.  But if you can find her in the meantime and let me know who
has stolen her, it will enable me to rescue her much more quickly."

"Then we'll start tomorrow morning," decided Dorothy.  "Betsy and Trot
and I won't waste another minute."

"I'm not sure you girls will make good detectives," remarked the
Wizard, "but I'll go with you to protect you from harm and to give you
my advice.  All my wizardry, alas, is stolen, so I am now really no
more a wizard than any of you, but I will try to protect you from any
enemies you may meet."

"What harm could happen to us in Oz?" inquired Trot.

"What harm happened to Ozma?" returned the Wizard.

"If there is an Evil Power abroad in our fairyland, which is able to 
steal not only Ozma and her Magic Picture, but Glinda's Book of 
Records and all her magic, and my black bag containing all my 
tricks of wizardry, then that Evil Power may yet cause us considerable 
injury.  Ozma is a fairy, and so is Glinda, so no power can kill or 
destroy them, but you girls are all mortals and so are Button-Bright 
and I, so we must watch out for ourselves."

"Nothing can kill me," said Ojo the Munchkin boy.

"That is true," replied the Sorceress, "and I think it may be well to
divide the searchers into several parties, that they may cover all the
land of Oz more quickly.  So I will send Ojo and Unc Nunkie and Dr.
Pipt into the Munchkin Country, which they are well acquainted with;
and I will send the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman into the Quadling
Country, for they are fearless and brave and never tire; and to the
Gillikin Country, where many dangers lurk, I will send the Shaggy Man
and his brother, with Tik-Tok and Jack Pumpkinhead.  Dorothy may make
up her own party and travel into the Winkie Country.  All of you must
inquire everywhere for Ozma and try to discover where she is hidden."

They thought this a very wise plan and adopted it without question.
In Ozma's absence, Glinda the Good was the most important person in
Oz, and all were glad to serve under her direction.



CHAPTER 6

THE SEARCH PARTY

Next morning as soon as the sun was up, Glinda flew back to her
castle, stopping on the way to instruct the Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman, who were at that time staying at the college of Professor H.
M.  Wogglebug, T.E., and taking a course of his Patent Educational Pills.

On hearing of Ozma's loss, they started at once for the
Quadling Country to search for her.  As soon as Glinda had left the
Emerald City, Tik-Tok and the Shaggy Man and Jack Pumpkinhead, who had
been present at the conference, began their journey into the Gillikin
Country, and an hour later Ojo and Unc Nunkie joined Dr.  Pipt and
together they traveled toward the Munchkin Country.  When all these
searchers were gone, Dorothy and the Wizard completed their own
preparations.

The Wizard hitched the Sawhorse to the Red Wagon, which would seat
four very comfortably.  He wanted Dorothy, Betsy, Trot and the
Patchwork Girl to ride in the wagon, but Scraps came up to them
mounted upon the Woozy, and the Woozy said he would like to join the
party.  Now this Woozy was a most peculiar animal, having a square
head, square body, square legs and square tail.  His skin was very
tough and hard, resembling leather, and while his movements were
somewhat clumsy, the beast could travel with remarkable swiftness.
His square eyes were mild and gentle in expression, and he was not
especially foolish.  The Woozy and the Patchwork Girl were great
friends, and so the Wizard agreed to let the Woozy go with them.

Another great beast now appeared and asked to go along.  This was none
other than the famous Cowardly Lion, one of the most interesting
creatures in all Oz.  No lion that roamed the jungles or plains could
compare in size or intelligence with this Cowardly Lion, who--like all
animals living in Oz--could talk and who talked with more shrewdness
and wisdom than many of the people did.  He said he was cowardly
because he always trembled when he faced danger, but he had faced
danger many times and never refused to fight when it was necessary.
This Lion was a great favorite with Ozma and always guarded her throne
on state occasions.  He was also an old companion and friend of the
Princess Dorothy, so the girl was delighted to have him join the
party.

"I'm so nervous over our dear Ozma," said the Cowardly Lion in his
deep, rumbling voice, "that it would make me unhappy to remain behind
while you are trying to find her.  But do not get into any danger, I
beg of you, for danger frightens me terribly."

"We'll not get into danger if we can poss'bly help it," promised
Dorothy, "but we shall do anything to find Ozma, danger or no danger."

The addition of the Woozy and the Cowardly Lion to the party gave
Betsy Bobbin an idea, and she ran to the marble stables at the rear of
the palace and brought out her mule, Hank by name.  Perhaps no mule
you ever saw was so lean and bony and altogether plain looking as this
Hank, but Betsy loved him dearly because he was faithful and steady
and not nearly so stupid as most mules are considered to be.  Betsy
had a saddle for Hank, and he declared she would ride on his back, an
arrangement approved by the Wizard because it left only four of the
party to ride on the seats of the Red Wagon--Dorothy and Button-Bright
and Trot and himself.

An old sailor man who had one wooden leg came to see them off and
suggested that they put a supply of food and blankets in the Red Wagon
inasmuch as they were uncertain how long they would be gone.  This
sailor man was called Cap'n Bill.  He was a former friend and comrade
of Trot and had encountered many adventures in company with the little
girl.  I think he was sorry he could not go with her on this trip, but
Glinda the Sorceress had asked Cap'n Bill to remain in the Emerald
City and take charge of the royal palace while everyone else was away,
and the one-legged sailor had agreed to do so.

They loaded the back end of the Red Wagon with everything they thought
they might need, and then they formed a procession and marched from
the palace through the Emerald City to the great gates of the wall
that surrounded this beautiful capital of the Land of Oz.  Crowds of
citizens lined the streets to see them pass and to cheer them and wish
them success, for all were grieved over Ozma's loss and anxious that
she be found again.  First came the Cowardly Lion, then the Patchwork
Girl riding upon the Woozy, then Betsy Bobbin on her mule Hank, and
finally the Sawhorse drawing the Red Wagon, in which were seated the
Wizard and Dorothy and Button-Bright and Trot.  No one was obliged to
drive the Sawhorse, so there were no reins to his harness; one had
only to tell him which way to go, fast or slow, and he understood
perfectly.

It was about this time that a shaggy little black dog who had been
lying asleep in Dorothy's room in the palace woke up and discovered he
was lonesome.  Everything seemed very still throughout the great building, 
and Toto--that was the little dog's name--missed the customary chatter 
of the three girls.  He never paid much attention to what was going 
on around him, and although he could speak, he seldom said anything, 
so the little dog did not know about Ozma's loss or that everyone 
had gone in search of her.  But he liked to be with people, and especially 
with his own mistress, Dorothy, and having yawned and stretched 
himself and found the door of the room ajar, he trotted out into the 
corridor and went down the stately marble stairs to the hall of the 
palace, where he met Jellia Jamb.

"Where's Dorothy?" asked Toto.

."She's gone to the Winkie Country," answered the maid.

"When?"

"A little while ago," replied Jellia.

Toto turned and trotted out into the palace garden and down the long
driveway until he came to the streets of the Emerald City.  Here he
paused to listen, and hearing sounds of cheering, he ran swiftly along
until he came in sight of the Red Wagon and the Woozy and the Lion and
the Mule and all the others.  Being a wise little dog, he decided not
to show himself to Dorothy just then, lest he be sent back home, but
he never lost sight of the party of travelers, all of whom were so
eager to get ahead that they never thought to look behind them.  When
they came to the gates in the city wall, the Guardian of the Gates
came out to throw wide the golden portals and let them pass through.

"Did any strange person come in or out of the city on the night before
last when Ozma was stolen?" asked Dorothy.

"No indeed, Princess," answered the Guardian of the Gates.

"Of course not," said the Wizard. "Anyone clever enough to steal all
the things we have lost would not mind the barrier of a wall like this
in the least.  I think the thief must have flown through the air, for
otherwise he could not have stolen from Ozma's royal palace and
Glinda's faraway castle in the same night.  Moreover, as there are no
airships in Oz and no way for airships from the outside world to get
into this country, I believe the thief must have flown from place to
place by means of magic arts which neither Glinda nor I understand."

On they went, and before the gates closed behind them, Toto managed to
dodge through them.  The country surrounding the Emerald City was
thickly settled, and for a while our friends rode over nicely paved
roads which wound through a fertile country dotted with beautiful
houses, all built in the quaint Oz fashion.  In the course of a few
hours, however, they had left the tilled fields and entered the
Country of the Winkies, which occupies a quarter of all the territory
in the Land of Oz but is not so well known as many other parts of
Ozma's fairyland.  Long before night the travelers had crossed the
Winkie River near to the Scarecrow's Tower (which was now vacant) and
had entered the Rolling Prairie where few people live.  They asked
everyone they met for news of Ozma, but none in this district had seen
her or even knew that she had been stolen.  And by nightfall they had
passed all the farmhouses and were obliged to stop and ask for shelter
at the hut of a lonely shepherd.  When they halted, Toto was not far
behind.  The little dog halted, too, and stealing softly around the
party, he hid himself behind the hut.

The shepherd was a kindly old man and treated the travelers with much
courtesy.  He slept out of doors that night, giving up his hut to the
three girls, who made their beds on the floor with the blankets they
had brought in the Red Wagon.  The Wizard and Button-Bright also slept
out of doors, and so did the Cowardly Lion and Hank the Mule.  But
Scraps and the Sawhorse did not sleep at all, and the Woozy could stay
awake for a month at a time if he wished to, so these three sat in a
little group by themselves and talked together all through the night.

In the darkness, the Cowardly Lion felt a shaggy little form nestling
beside his own, and he said sleepily, "Where did you come from, Toto?"

"From home," said the dog. "If you roll over, roll the other way so
you won't smash me."

"Does Dorothy know you are here?" asked the Lion.

"I believe not," admitted Toto, and he added a little anxiously, "Do
you think, friend Lion, we are now far enough from the Emerald City
for me to risk showing myself, or will Dorothy send me back because I
wasn't invited?"

"Only Dorothy can answer that question," said the Lion.  "For my part,
Toto, I consider this affair none of my business, so you must act as
you think best."  Then the huge beast went to sleep again, and Toto
snuggled closer to the warm, hairy body and also slept.  He was a wise
little dog in his way, and didn't intend to worry when there was
something much better to do.

In the morning the Wizard built a fire, over which the girls cooked a
very good breakfast.  Suddenly Dorothy discovered Toto sitting quietly
before the fire, and the little girl exclaimed, "Goodness me, Toto!
Where did YOU come from?"

"From the place you cruelly left me," replied the dog in a reproachful
tone.

"I forgot all about you," admitted Dorothy, "and if I hadn't, I'd
prob'ly left you with Jellia Jamb, seeing this isn't a pleasure trip
but stric'ly business.  But now that you're here, Toto, I s'pose
you'll have to stay with us, unless you'd rather go back again.  We
may get ourselves into trouble before we're done, Toto."

"Never mind that," said Toto, wagging his tail."I'm hungry,
Dorothy."

"Breakfas'll soon be ready, and then you shall have your share,"
promised his little mistress, who was really glad to have her dog with
her.  She and Toto had traveled together before, and she knew he was a
good and faithful comrade.

When the food was cooked and served, the girls invited the old
shepherd to join them in the morning meal.  He willingly consented,
and while they ate he said to them, "You are now about to pass through
a very dangerous country, unless you turn to the north or to the south
to escape its perils."

"In that case," said the Cowardly Lion, "let us turn, by all means,
for I dread to face dangers of any sort."

"What's the matter with the country ahead of us?"
 inquired Dorothy.

"Beyond this Rolling Prairie," explained the shepherd, "are the
Merry-Go-Round Mountains, set close together and surrounded by deep
gulfs so that no one is able to get past them.  Beyond the
Merry-Go-Round Mountains it is said the Thistle-Eaters and the Herkus
live."

"What are they like?" demanded Dorothy.

"No one knows, for no one has ever passed the Merry-Go-Round
Mountains," was the reply, "but it is said that the Thistle-Eaters
hitch dragons to their chariots and that the Herkus are waited upon by
giants whom they have conquered and made their slaves."

"Who says all that?" asked Betsy.

"It is common report," declared the shepherd.
"Everyone believes it."

"I don't see how they know," remarked little Trot, "if no one has been
there."

"Perhaps the birds who fly over that country brought the news,"
suggested Betsy.

"If you escaped those dangers," continued the shepherd, "you might
encounter others still more serious before you came to the next branch
of the Winkie River.  It is true that beyond that river there lies a
fine country inhabited by good people, and if you reached there, you
would have no further trouble.  It is between here and the west branch
of the Winkie River that all dangers lie, for that is the unknown
territory that is inhabited by terrible, lawless people."

"It may be, and it may not be," said the Wizard.  "We shall know when
we get there."

"Well," persisted the shepherd, "in a fairy country such as ours,
every undiscovered place is likely to harbor wicked creatures.  If
they were not wicked, they would discover themselves and by coming
among us submit to Ozma's rule and be good and considerate, as are all
the Oz people whom we know."

"That argument," stated the little Wizard, "convinces me that it is
our duty to go straight to those unknown places, however dangerous
they may be, for it is surely some cruel and wicked person who has
stolen our Ozma, and we know it would be folly to search among good
people for the culprit.  Ozma may not be hidden in the secret places
of the Winkie Country, it is true, but it is our duty to travel to
every spot, however dangerous, where our beloved Ruler is likely to be
imprisoned."

"You're right about that," said Button-Bright approvingly.  "Dangers
don't hurt us.  Only things that happen ever hurt anyone, and a danger
is a thing that might happen and might not happen, and sometimes don't
amount to shucks.

I vote we go ahead and take our chances."

They were all of the same opinion, so they packed up and said goodbye
to the friendly shepherd and proceeded on their way.



CHAPTER 7


THE MERRY-GO-ROUND MOUNTAINS

The Rolling Prairie was not difficult to travel over, although it was
all uphill and downhill, so for a while they made good progress.  Not
even a shepherd was to be met with now, and the farther they advanced
the more dreary the landscape became.  At noon they stopped for a
"picnic luncheon," as Betsy called it, and then they again resumed
their journey.  All the animals were swift and tireless, and even the
Cowardly Lion and the Mule found they could keep up with the pace of
the Woozy and the Sawhorse.

It was the middle of the afternoon when first they came in sight of a
cluster of low mountains.  These were cone-shaped, rising from broad
bases to sharp peaks at the tops.  From a distance the mountains
appeared indistinct and seemed rather small--more like hills than
mountains--but as the travelers drew nearer, they noted a most unusual
circumstance: the hills were all whirling around, some in one
direction and some the opposite way.

"I guess these are the Merry-Go-Round Mountains, all right," said
Dorothy.

"They must be," said the Wizard.

"They go 'round, sure enough," agreed Trot, "but they don't seem very
merry."

There were several rows of these mountains, extending both to the
right and to the left for miles and miles.  How many rows there might
be none could tell, but between the first row of peaks could be seen
other peaks, all steadily whirling around one way or another.
Continuing to ride nearer, our friends watched these hills
attentively, until at last, coming close up, they discovered there was
a deep but narrow gulf around the edge of each mountain, and that the
mountains were set so close together that the outer gulf was
continuous and barred farther advance.  At the edge of the gulf they
all dismounted and peered over into its depths.  There was no telling
where the bottom was, if indeed there was any bottom at all.  From
where they stood it seemed as if the mountains had been set in one
great hole in the ground, just close enough together so they would not
touch, and that each mountain was supported by a rocky column beneath
its base which extended far down in the black pit below.  From the
land side it seemed impossible to get across the gulf or, succeeding
in that, to gain a foothold on any of the whirling mountains.

"This ditch is too wide to jump across," remarked Button-Bright.

"P'raps the Lion could do it," suggested Dorothy.

"What, jump from here to that whirling hill?" cried the Lion
indignantly.  "I should say not!  Even if I landed there and could
hold on, what good would it do?  There's another spinning mountain
beyond it, and perhaps still another beyond that.  I don't believe any
living creature could jump from one mountain to another when both are
whirling like tops and in different directions."

"I propose we turn back," said the Wooden Sawhorse with a yawn of his
chopped-out mouth as he stared with his knot eyes at the
Merry-Go-Round Mountains.

"I agree with you," said the Woozy, wagging his square head.

"We should have taken the shepherd's advice," added Hank the Mule.

The others of the party, however they might be puzzled by the serious
problem that confronted them, would not allow themselves to despair.
"If we once get over these mountains," said Button-Bright, "we could
probably get along all right."

"True enough," agreed Dorothy.  "So we must find some way, of course,
to get past these whirligig hills.  But how?"

"I wish the Ork was with us," sighed Trot.

"But the Ork isn't here," said the Wizard, "and we must depend upon
ourselves to conquer this difficulty.  Unfortunately, all my magic has
been stolen, otherwise I am sure I could easily get over the
mountains."

"Unfortunately," observed the Woozy, "none of us has wings.  And we're
in a magic country without any magic."

"What is that around your waist, Dorothy?" asked the Wizard.

"That?  Oh, that's just the Magic Belt I once captured from the Nome
King," she replied.

"A Magic Belt!   Why, that's fine.  I'm sure a Magic Belt would take
you over these hills."

"It might if I knew how to work it," said the little girl.  "Ozma
knows a lot of its magic, but I've never found out about it.  All I
know is that while I am wearing it, nothing can hurt me."

"Try wishing yourself across and see if it will obey you," suggested
the Wizard.

"But what good would that do?" asked Dorothy.  "If I got across, it
wouldn't help the rest of you, and I couldn't go alone among all those
giants and dragons while you stayed here."

"True enough," agreed the Wizard sadly.  And then, after looking
around the group, he inquired, "What is that on your finger, Trot?"

"A ring.  The Mermaids gave it to me," she explained, "and if ever I'm
in trouble when I'm on the water, I can call the Mermaids and they'll
come and help me.  But the Mermaids can't help me on the land, you
know, 'cause they swim, and--and--they haven't any legs."

"True enough," repeated the Wizard, more sadly.

There was a big, broad, spreading tree near the edge of the gulf, and
as the sun was hot above them, they all gathered under the shade of
the tree to study the problem of what to do next.  "If we had a long
rope," said Betsy, "we could fasten it to this tree and let the other
end of it down into the gulf and all slide down it."

"Well, what then?" asked the Wizard.

"Then, if we could manage to throw the rope up the other side,"
explained the girl, "we could all climb it and be on the other side of
the gulf."

"There are too many 'if's' in that suggestion," remarked the little
Wizard.  "And you must remember that the other side is nothing but
spinning mountains, so we couldn't possibly fasten a rope to them,
even if we had one."

"That rope idea isn't half bad, though," said the Patchwork Girl, who
had been dancing dangerously near to the edge of the gulf.

"What do you mean?" asked Dorothy.

The Patchwork Girl suddenly stood still and cast her button eyes
around the group.  "Ha, I have it!" she exclaimed.  "Unharness the
Sawhorse, somebody.  My fingers are too clumsy."

"Shall we?" asked Button-Bright doubtfully, turning to the others.

"Well, Scraps has a lot of brains, even if she IS stuffed with
cotton," asserted the Wizard.  "If her brains can help us out of this
trouble, we ought to use them."

So he began unharnessing the Sawhorse, and Button-Bright and Dorothy
helped him.  When they had removed the harness, the Patchwork Girl
told them to take it all apart and buckle the straps together, end to
end.  And after they had done this, they found they had one very long
strap that was stronger than any rope.  "It would reach across the
gulf easily," said the Lion, who with the other animals had sat on his
haunches and watched this proceeding.  "But I don't see how it could
be fastened to one of those dizzy mountains."

Scraps had no such notion as that in her baggy head.  She told them to
fasten one end of the strap to a stout limb of the tree, pointing to
one which extended quite to the edge of the gulf.  Button-Bright did
that, climbing the tree and then crawling out upon the limb until he
was nearly over the gulf.  There he managed to fasten the strap, which
reached to the ground below, and then he slid down it and was caught
by the Wizard, who feared he might fall into the chasm.  Scraps was
delighted.  She seized the lower end of the strap, and telling them
all to get out of her way, she went back as far as the strap would
reach and then made a sudden run toward the gulf.  Over the edge she
swung, clinging to the strap until it had gone as far as its length
permitted, when she let go and sailed gracefully through the air until
she alighted upon the mountain just in front of them.

Almost instantly, as the great cone continued to whirl, she was sent
flying against the next mountain in the rear, and that one had only
turned halfway around when Scraps was sent flying to the next mountain
behind it.  Then her patchwork form disappeared from view entirely,
and the amazed watchers under the tree wondered what had become of
her.  "She's gone, and she can't get back," said the Woozy.

"My, how she bounded from one mountain to another!" exclaimed the
Lion.

"That was because they whirl so fast," the Wizard explained.  "Scraps
had nothing to hold on to, and so of course she was tossed from one
hill to another.  I'm afraid we shall never see the poor Patchwork
Girl again."

"I shall see her," declared the Woozy.  "Scraps is an old friend of
mine, and if there are really Thistle-Eaters and Giants on the other
side of those tops, she will need someone to protect her.  So here I
go!"  He seized the dangling strap firmly in his square mouth, and in
the same way that Scraps had done swung himself over the gulf.  He let
go the strap at the right moment and fell upon the first whirling
mountain.  Then he bounded to the next one back of it--not on his
feet, but "all mixed up," as Trot said--and then he shot across to
another mountain, disappearing from view just as the Patchwork Girl
had done.

"It seems to work, all right," remarked Button-Bright.  "I guess I'll
try it."

"Wait a minute," urged the Wizard.  "Before any more of us make this
desperate leap into the beyond, we must decide whether all will go or
if some of us will remain behind."

"Do you s'pose it hurt them much to bump against those mountains?"
asked Trot.

"I don't s'pose anything could hurt Scraps or the Woozy," said
Dorothy, "and nothing can hurt ME, because I wear the Magic Belt.  So
as I'm anxious to find Ozma, I mean to swing myself across too."

"I'll take my chances," decided Button-Bright.

"I'm sure it will hurt dreadfully, and I'm afraid to do it," said the
Lion, who was already trembling, "but I shall do it if Dorothy does."

"Well, that will leave Betsy and the Mule and Trot," said the Wizard,
"for of course I shall go that I may look after Dorothy.  Do you two
girls think you can find your way back home again?" he asked,
addressing Trot and Betsy.

"I'm not afraid.  Not much, that is," said Trot.  "It looks risky, I
know, but I'm sure I can stand it if the others can."

"If it wasn't for leaving Hank," began Betsy in a hesitating voice.

But the Mule interrupted her by saying, "Go ahead if you want to, and
I'll come after you.  A mule is as brave as a lion any day."

"Braver," said the Lion, "for I'm a coward, friend Hank, and you are
not.  But of course the Sawhorse--"

"Oh, nothing ever hurts ME," asserted the Sawhorse calmly.  "There's
never been any question about my going.  I can't take the Red Wagon,
though."

"No, we must leave the wagon," said the wizard, "and also we must
leave our food and blankets, I fear.  But if we can defy these
Merry-Go-Round Mountains to stop us, we won't mind the sacrifice of
some of our comforts."

"No one knows where we're going to land!" remarked the Lion in a voice
that sounded as if he were going to cry.

"We may not land at all," replied Hank, "but the best way to find out
what will happen to us is to swing across as Scraps and the Woozy have
done."

"I think I shall go last," said the Wizard, "so who wants to go
first?"

"I'll go," decided Dorothy.

"No, it's my turn first," said Button-Bright.   "Watch me!"

Even as he spoke, the boy seized the strap, and after making a run 
swung himself across the gulf.  Away he went, bumping from hill to 
hill until he disappeared.  They listened intently, but the boy uttered 
no cry until he had been gone some moments, when they heard a faint 
Hullo-a!" as if called from a great distance.  The sound gave them courage,
however, and Dorothy picked up Toto and held him fast under one arm
while with the other hand she seized the strap and bravely followed
after Button-Bright.

When she struck the first whirling mountain, she fell upon it quite
softly, but before she had time to think, she flew through the air and
lit with a jar on the side of the next mountain.  Again she flew and
alighted, and again and still again, until after five successive bumps
she fell sprawling upon a green meadow and was so dazed and bewildered
by her bumpy journey across the Merry-Go-Round Mountains that she lay
quite still for a time to collect her thoughts.  Toto had escaped from
her arms just as she fell, and he now sat beside her panting with
excitement.  Then Dorothy realized that someone was helping her to her
feet, and here was Button-Bright on one side of her and Scraps on the
other, both seeming to be unhurt.  The next object her eyes fell upon
was the Woozy, squatting upon his square back end and looking at her
reflectively, while Toto barked joyously to find his mistress unhurt
after her whirlwind trip.

"Good!"said the Woozy.  "Here's another and a dog, both safe and
sound.  But my word, Dorothy, you flew some!  If you could have seen
yourself, you'd have been absolutely astonished."

"They say 'Time flies,'20" laughed Button-Bright, "but Time never
made a quicker journey than that."

Just then, as Dorothy turned around to look at the whirling mountains,
she was in time to see tiny Trot come flying from the nearest hill to
fall upon the soft grass not a yard away from where she stood.  Trot
was so dizzy she couldn't stand at first, but she wasn't at all hurt,
and presently Betsy came flying to them and would have bumped into the
others had they not retreated in time to avoid her.  Then, in quick
succession, came the Lion, Hank and the Sawhorse, bounding from
mountain to mountain to fall safely upon the greensward.  Only the
Wizard was now left behind, and they waited so long for him that
Dorothy began to be worried.

But suddenly he came flying from the nearest mountain and 
tumbled heels over head beside them.  Then they saw that 
he had wound two of their blankets around his body to keep
the bumps from hurting him and had fastened the blankets with some of
the spare straps from the harness of the Sawhorse.



CHAPTER 8


THE MYSTERIOUS CITY

There they sat upon the grass, their heads still swimming from their
dizzy flights, and looked at one another in silent bewilderment.  But
presently, when assured that no one was injured, they grew more calm
and collected, and the Lion said with a sigh of relief, "Who would
have thought those Merry-Go-Round Mountains were made of rubber?"

"Are they really rubber?" asked Trot.

"They must be," replied the Lion, "for otherwise we would not have
bounded so swiftly from one to another without getting hurt."

"That is all guesswork," declared the Wizard, unwinding the blankets
from his body, "for none of us stayed long enough on the mountains to
discover what they are made of.  But where are we?"

"That's guesswork," said Scraps.  "The shepherd said the
Thistle-Eaters live this side of the mountains and are waited on by
giants."

"Oh no," said Dorothy, "it's the Herkus who have giant slaves, and the
Thistle-Eaters hitch dragons to their chariots."

"How could they do that?" asked the Woozy.  "Dragons have long tails,
which would get in the way of the chariot wheels."

"And if the Herkus have conquered the giants," said Trot, "they must
be at least twice the size of giants.  P'raps the Herkus are the
biggest people in all the world!"

"Perhaps they are," assented the Wizard in a thoughtful tone of voice.
"And perhaps the shepherd didn't know what he was talking about.  Let
us travel on toward the west and discover for ourselves what the
people of this country are like."

It seemed a pleasant enough country, and it was quite still and
peaceful when they turned their eyes away from the silently whirling
mountains.  There were trees here and there and green bushes, while
throughout the thick grass were scattered brilliantly colored flowers.
About a mile away was a low hill that hid from them all the country
beyond it, so they realized they could not tell much about the country
until they had crossed the hill.  The Red Wagon having been left
behind, it was now necessary to make other arrangements for traveling.
The Lion told Dorothy she could ride upon his back as she had often
done before, and the Woozy said he could easily carry both Trot and
the Patchwork Girl.  Betsy still had her mule, Hank, and Button-Bright
and the Wizard could sit together upon the long, thin back of the
Sawhorse, but they took care to soften their seat with a pad of
blankets before they started.  Thus mounted, the adventurers started
for the hill, which was reached after a brief journey.

As they mounted the crest and gazed beyond the hill, they discovered
not far away a walled city, from the towers and spires of which gay
banners were flying.  It was not a very big city, indeed, but its
walls were very high and thick, and it appeared that the people who
lived there must have feared attack by a powerful enemy, else they
would not have surrounded their dwellings with so strong a barrier.
There was no path leading from the mountains to the city, and this
proved that the people seldom or never visited the whirling hills, but
our friends found the grass soft and agreeable to travel over, and
with the city before them they could not well lose their way.  When
they drew nearer to the walls, the breeze carried to their ears the
sound of music--dim at first, but growing louder as they advanced.

"That doesn't seem like a very terr'ble place," remarked Dorothy.

"Well, it LOOKS all right," replied Trot from her seat on the Woozy,
"but looks can't always be trusted."

"MY looks can," said Scraps.  "I LOOK patchwork, and I AM patchwork,
and no one but a blind owl could ever doubt that I'm the Patchwork
Girl."  Saying which, she turned a somersault off the Woozy and,
alighting on her feet, began wildly dancing about.

"Are owls ever blind?" asked Trot.

"Always, in the daytime," said Button-Bright.   "But Scraps can see
with her button eyes both day and night.  Isn't it queer?"

"It's queer that buttons can see at all," answered Trot.  "But good
gracious!  What's become of the city?"

"I was going to ask that myself," said Dorothy. "It's
gone!"

"It's gone!"

The animals came to a sudden halt, for the city had really
disappeared, walls and all, and before them lay the clear, unbroken
sweep of the country.  "Dear me!" exclaimed the Wizard.  "This is
rather disagreeable.  It is annoying to travel almost to a place and
then find it is not there."

"Where can it be, then?" asked Dorothy.  "It cert'nly was there a
minute ago."

"I can hear the music yet," declared Button-Bright, and when they all
listened, the strains of music could plainly be heard.

"Oh!  There's the city over at the left," called Scraps, and turning
their eyes, they saw the walls and towers and fluttering banners far
to the left of them.

"We must have lost our way," suggested Dorothy.

"Nonsense," said the Lion.

"I, and all the other animals, have been
tramping straight toward the city ever since we first saw it."

"Then how does it happen--"

"Never mind," interrupted the Wizard, "we are no farther from it than
we were before.  It is in a different direction, that's all, so let us
hurry and get there before it again escapes us."

So on they went directly toward the city, which seemed only a couple
of miles distant.  But when they had traveled less than a mile, it
suddenly disappeared again.  Once more they paused, somewhat
discouraged, but in a moment the button eyes of Scraps again
discovered the city, only this time it was just behind them in the
direction from which they had come.  "Goodness gracious!" cried
Dorothy.  "There's surely something wrong with that city.  Do you
s'pose it's on wheels, Wizard?"

"It may not be a city at all," he replied, looking toward it with a
speculative glance.

"What COULD it be, then?"

"Just an illusion."

"What's that?" asked Trot.

"Something you think you see and don't see."

"I can't believe that," said Button-Bright.  "If we only saw it, we
might be mistaken, but if we can see it and hear it, too, it must be
there."

"Where?" asked the Patchwork Girl.

"Somewhere near us," he insisted.

We will have to go back, I suppose," said the Woozy with a sigh.

So back they turned and headed for the walled city until it
disappeared again, only to reappear at the right of them.  They were
constantly getting nearer to it, however, so they kept their faces
turned toward it as it flitted here and there to all points of the
compass.  Presently the Lion, who was leading the procession, halted
abruptly and cried out, "Ouch!"

"What's the matter?" asked Dorothy.

"Ouch -- Ouch!~ repeated the Lion, and leaped
backward so suddenly that Dorothy nearly tumbled from
his back. At the same time Hank the Mule yelled "Ouch!""Ouch!  Ouch!" repeated the Lion and
leaped backward so suddenly that
Dorothy nearly tumbled from his back.  At the same time, Hank the Mule
yelled "Ouch!" almost as loudly as the Lion had done, and he also
pranced backward a few paces.

"It's the thistles," said Betsy.

"They prick their legs."

Hearing this, all looked down, and sure enough the ground was thick
with thistles, which covered the plain from the point where they stood
way up to the walls of the mysterious city.  No pathways through them
could be seen at all; here the soft grass ended and the growth of
thistles began.  "They're the prickliest thistles I ever felt,"
grumbled the Lion.  "My legs smart yet from their stings, though I
jumped out of them as quickly as I could."

"Here is a new difficulty," remarked the Wizard in a grieved tone.
"The city has stopped hopping around, it is true, but how are we to
get to it over this mass of prickers?"

"They can't hurt ME," said the thick-skinned Woozy, advancing
fearlessly and trampling among the thistles.

"Nor me," said the Wooden Sawhorse.

"But the Lion and the Mule cannot stand the prickers," asserted
Dorothy, "and we can't leave them behind."

"Must we all go back?" asked Trot.

"Course not!" replied Button-Bright scornfully.
"Always when there's trouble, there's a way out of it if you can find it."

"I wish the Scarecrow was here," said Scraps, standing on her head on
the Woozy's square back.  "His splendid brains would soon show us how
to conquer this field of thistles."

"What's the matter with YOUR brains?" asked the boy.

"Nothing," she said, making a flip-flop into the thistles and dancing
among them without feeling their sharp points.  "I could tell you in
half a minute how to get over the thistles if I wanted to."

"Tell us, Scraps!" begged Dorothy.

"I don't want to wear my brains out with overwork," replied the
Patchwork Girl.

"Don't you love Ozma?  And don't you want to find her?" asked Betsy
reproachfully.

"Yes indeed," said Scraps, walking on her hands as an acrobat does at
the circus.

"Well, we can't find Ozma unless we get past these thistles," declared
Dorothy.

Scraps danced around them two or three times without reply.  Then she
said, "Don't look at me, you stupid folks.  Look at those blankets."

The Wizard's face brightened at once.

"Why didn't we think of those blankets before?"

"Because you haven't magic brains," laughed Scraps.
 "Such brains as you have are of the common sort that grow in your heads, 
like weeds in a garden.  I'm sorry for you people who have to be born in order to be
alive."

But the Wizard was not listening to her.  He quickly removed the
blankets from the back of the Sawhorse and spread one of them upon the
thistles, just next the grass.  The thick cloth rendered the prickers
harmless, so the Wizard walked over this first blanket and spread the
second one farther on, in the direction of the phantom city.  "These
blankets," said he, "are for the Lion and the Mule to walk upon.  The
Sawhorse and the Woozy can walk on the thistles."

So the Lion and the Mule walked over the first blanket and stood upon
the second one until the Wizard had picked up the one they had passed
over and spread it in front of them, when they advanced to that one
and waited while the one behind them was again spread in front.  "This
is slow work," said the Wizard, "but it will get us to the city after
a while."

"The city is a good half mile away yet," announced Button-Bright.

"And this is awful hard work for the Wizard," added Trot.

"Why couldn't the Lion ride on the Woozy's back?"
 asked Dorothy."it's a big, flat back, and the Woozy's mighty strong.  
Perhaps the Lion wouldn't fall off."

"You may try it if you like," said the Woozy to the Lion.  "I can take
you to the city in a jiffy and then come back for Hank."

"I'm--I'm afraid," said the Cowardly Lion.  He was twice as big as the
Woozy.

"Try it," pleaded Dorothy.

"And take a tumble among the thistles?"asked the Lion reproachfully.
But when the Woozy came close to him, the big beast suddenly bounded
upon its back and managed to balance himself there, although forced to
hold his four legs so close together that he was in danger of toppling
over.  The great weight of the monster Lion did not seem to affect the
Woozy, who called to his rider, "Hold on tight!" and ran swiftly over
the thistles toward the city.  The others stood on the blanket and
watched the strange sight anxiously.  Of course, the Lion couldn't
"hold on tight" because there was nothing to hold to, and he swayed
from side to side as if likely to fall off any moment.  Still, he
managed to stick to the Woozy's back until they were close to the
walls of the city, when he leaped to the ground.  Next moment the
Woozy came dashing back at full speed.

"There's a little strip of ground next the wall where there are no
thistles," he told them when he had reached the adventurers once more.
"Now then, friend Hank, see if you can ride as well as the Lion did."

"Take the others first," proposed the Mule.  So the Sawhorse and the
Woozy made a couple of trips over the thistles to the city walls and
carried all the people in safety, Dorothy holding little Toto in her
arms.  The travelers then sat in a group on a little hillock just
outside the wall and looked at the great blocks of gray stone and
waited for the Woozy to bring Hank to them.  The Mule was very
awkward, and his legs trembled so badly that more than once they
thought he would tumble off, but finally he reached them in safety,
and the entire party was now reunited.  More than that, they had
reached the city that had eluded them for so long and in so strange a
manner.

"The gates must be around the other side," said the Wizard.  "Let us
follow the curve of the wall until we reach an opening in it."

"Which way?" asked Dorothy.

"We must guess that," he replied.  "Suppose we go to the left.  One
direction is as good as another."  They formed in marching order and
went around the city wall to the left.  It wasn't a big city, as I
have said, but to go way around it outside the high wall was quite a
walk, as they became aware.  But around it our adventurers went
without finding any sign of a gateway or other opening.  When they had
returned to the little mound from which they had started, they
dismounted from the animals and again seated themselves on the grassy
mound.

"It's mighty queer, isn't it?" asked Button-Bright.

"There must be SOME way for the people to get out and in," declared
Dorothy.  "Do you s'pose they have flying machines, Wizard?"

"No," he replied, "for in that case they would be flying all over the
Land of Oz, and we know they have not done that.  Flying machines are
unknown here.  I think it more likely that the people use ladders to
get over the walls."

"It would be an awful climb over that high stone wall," said Betsy.

"Stone, is it?" Scraps, who was again dancing wildly around, for
she never tired and could never keep still for long.

"Course it's stone," answered Betsy scornfully.
  "Can't you see?"

"Yes," said Scraps, going closer.  "I can SEE the wall, but I can't
FEEL it."  And then, with her arms outstretched, she did a very queer
thing.  She walked right into the wall and disappeared.

"For goodness sake!" Dorothy, amazed, as indeed they all were.


CHAPTER 9

THE HIGH COCO-LORUM OF THI


And now the Patchwork Girl came dancing out of the wall again.  "Come
on!" she called.   "It isn't there.

There isn't any wall at all."

"What?  No wall?" exclaimed the Wizard.

"Nothing like it," said Scraps.   "It's a make-believe.  You see it,
but it isn't.  Come on into the city; we've been wasting our time."
With this, she danced into the wall again and once more disappeared.
Button-Bright, who was rather venture-some, dashed away after her and
also became invisible to them.  The others followed more cautiously,
stretching out their hands to feel the wall and finding, to their
astonishment, that they could feel nothing because nothing opposed
them.  They walked on a few steps and found themselves in the streets
of a very beautiful city.  Behind them they again saw the wall, grim
and forbidding as ever, but now they knew it was merely an illusion
prepared to keep strangers from entering the city.

But the wall was soon forgotten, for in front of them were a number of
quaint people who stared at them in amazement as if wondering where
they had come from.  Our friends forgot their good manners for a time
and returned the stares with interest, for so remarkable a people had
never before been discovered in all the remarkable Land of Oz.  Their
heads were shaped like diamonds, and their bodies like hearts.  All
the hair they had was a little bunch at the tip top of their
diamond-shaped heads, and their eyes were very large and round, and
their noses and mouths very small.  Their clothing was tight fitting
and of brilliant colors, being handsomely embroidered in quaint
designs with gold or silver threads; but on their feet they wore
sandals with no stockings whatever.  The expression of their faces was
pleasant enough, although they now showed surprise at the appearance
of strangers so unlike themselves, and our friends thought they seemed
quite harmless.

"I beg your pardon," said the Wizard, speaking for his party, "for
intruding upon you uninvited, but we are traveling on important
business and find it necessary to visit your city.  Will you kindly
tell us by what name your city is called?"

They looked at one another uncertainly, each expecting some other to
answer.  Finally, a short one whose heart-shaped body was very broad
replied, "We have no occasion to call our city anything.  It is where
we live, that is all."

"But by what name do others call your city?"asked the Wizard.

"We know of no others except yourselves," said the man.  And then he
inquired, "Were you born with those queer forms you have, or has some
cruel magician transformed you to them from your natural shapes?"

"These are our natural shapes," declared the Wizard, "and we consider
them very good shapes, too."

The group of inhabitants was constantly being enlarged by others who
joined it.  All were evidently startled and uneasy at the arrival of
strangers.  "Have you a King?"asked Dorothy, who knew it was better
to speak with someone in authority.

But the man shook his diamond-like head.  "What is a King?" he asked.

"Isn't there anyone who rules over you?"inquired the Wizard.

"No," was the reply, "each of us rules himself, or at least tries to
do so.  It is not an easy thing to do, as you probably know."

The Wizard reflected.

"If you have disputes among you," said he after
a little thought, "who settles them?"

"The High Coco-Lorum," they answered in a chorus.

"And who is he?"

"The judge who enforces the laws," said the man who had first spoken.

"Then he is the principal person here?"continued the Wizard.

"Well, I would not say that," returned the man in a puzzled way.  "The
High Coco-Lorum is a public servant.  However, he represents the laws,
which we must all obey."

"I think," said the Wizard, "we ought to see your High Coco-Lorum and
talk with him.  Our mission here requires us to consult one high in
authority, and the High Coco-Lorum ought to be high, whatever else he
is."

The inhabitants seemed to consider this proposition reasonable, for
they nodded their diamond-shaped heads in approval.  So the broad one
who had been their spokesman said, "Follow me," and turning led the
way along one of the streets.  The entire party followed him, the
natives falling in behind.  The dwellings they passed were quite
nicely planned and seemed comfortable and convenient.  After leading
them a few blocks, their conductor stopped before a house which was
neither better nor worse than the others.  The doorway was shaped to
admit the strangely formed bodies of these people, being narrow at the
top, broad in the middle and tapering at the bottom.  The windows were
made in much the same way, giving the house a most peculiar
appearance.  When their guide opened the gate, a music box concealed
in the gatepost began to play, and the sound attracted the attention
of the High Coco-Lorum, who appeared at an open window and inquired,
"What has happened now?"

But in the same moment his eyes fell upon the strangers and he
hastened to open the door and admit them--all but the animals, which
were left outside with the throng of natives that had now gathered.
For a small city there seemed to be a large number of inhabitants, but
they did not try to enter the house and contented themselves with
staring curiously at the strange animals.  Toto followed Dorothy.

Our friends entered a large room at the front of the house, where the
High Coco-Lorum asked them to be seated.  "I hope your mission here is
a peaceful one," he said, looking a little worried, "for the Thists
are not very good fighters and object to being conquered."

"Are your people called Thists?" asked Dorothy.

"Yes.   I thought you knew that.  And we call our city Thi."

"Oh!"

."We are Thists because we eat thistles, you know," continued the High
Coco-Lorum.

"Do you really eat those prickly things?"inquired Button-Bright
wonderingly.

"Why not?" replied the other.  "The sharp points of the thistles
cannot hurt us, because all our insides are gold-lined."

"Gold-lined!"

"To be sure.  Our throats and stomachs are lined with solid gold, and
we find the thistles nourishing and good to eat.  As a matter of fact,
there is nothing else in our country that is fit for food.  All around
the City of Thi grow countless thistles, and all we need do is to go
and gather them.  If we wanted anything else to eat, we would have to
plant it, and grow it, and harvest it, and that would be a lot of
trouble and make us work, which is an occupation we detest."

"But tell me, please," said the Wizard, "how does it happen that your
city jumps around so, from one part of the country to another?"

"The city doesn't jump.  It doesn't move at all," declared the High
Coco-Lorum.  "However, I will admit that the land that surrounds it
has a trick of turning this way or that, and so if one is standing
upon the plain and facing north, he is likely to find himself suddenly
facing west or east or south.  But once you reach the thistle fields,
you are on solid ground."

"Ah, I begin to understand," said the Wizard, nodding his head.  "But
I have another question to ask: How does it happen that the Thists
have no King to rule over them?"

"Hush!"whispered the High Coco-Lorum, looking uneasily around to make
sure they were not overheard.  "In reality, I am the King, but the
people don't know it.  They think they rule themselves, but the fact
is I have everything my own way.  No one else knows anything about our
laws, and so I make the laws to suit myself.  If any oppose me or
question my acts, I tell them it's the law and that settles it.  If I
called myself King, however, and wore a crown and lived in royal
style, the people would not like me and might do me harm.  As the High
Coco-Lorum of Thi, I am considered a very agreeable person."

"It seems a very clever arrangement," said the Wizard.  "And now, as
you are the principal person in Thi, I beg you to tell us if the Royal
Ozma is a captive in your city."

"No," answered the diamond-headed man.  "We have no captives.  No
strangers but yourselves are here, and we have never before heard of
the Royal Ozma."

"She rules over all of Oz," said Dorothy, "and so she rules your city
and you, because you are in the Winkie Country, which is a part of the
Land of Oz."

"It may be," returned the High Coco-Lorum, "for we do not study
geography and have never inquired whether we live in the Land of Oz or
not.  And any Ruler who rules us from a distance and unknown to us is
welcome to the job.  But what has happened to your Royal Ozma?"

"Someone has stolen her," said the Wizard.  "Do you happen to have any
talented magician among your people, one who is especially clever, you
know?"

"No, none especially clever.  We do some magic, of course, but it is
all of the ordinary kind.  I do not think any of us has yet aspired to
stealing Rulers, either by magic or otherwise."

"Then we've come a long way for nothing!"exclaimed Trot regretfully.

"But we are going farther than this," asserted the Patchwork Girl,
bending her stuffed body backward until her yarn hair touched the
floor and then walking around on her hands with her feet in the air.

The High Coco-Lorum watched Scraps admiringly.

"You may go farther
on, of course," said he, "but I advise you not to.  The Herkus live
back of us, beyond the thistles and the twisting lands, and they are
not very nice people to meet, I assure you."

"Are they giants?" asked Betsy.

"They are worse than that," was the reply. "They have giants for
their slaves and they are so much stronger than giants that the poor
slaves dare not rebel for fear of being torn to pieces."

"How do you know?" asked Scraps.

"Everyone says so," answered the High Coco-Lorum.

"Have you seen the Herkus yourself?"inquired Dorothy.

"No, but what everyone says must be true, otherwise what would be the
use of their saying it?"

"We were told before we got here that you people hitch dragons to your
chariots," said the little girl.

"So we do," declared the High Coco-Lorum. "And that reminds me that I
ought to entertain you as strangers and my guests by taking you for a
ride around our splendid City of Thi."  He touched a button, and a
band began to play.  At least, they heard the music of a band, but
couldn't tell where it came from.  "That tune is the order to my
charioteer to bring around my dragon-chariot," said the High
Coco-Lorum.  "Every time I give an order, it is in music, which is a
much more pleasant way to address servants than in cold, stern words."

"Does this dragon of yours bite?" asked Button-Bright.

"Mercy no!  Do you think I'd risk the safety of my innocent people by
using a biting dragon to draw my chariot?  I'm proud to say that my
dragon is harmless, unless his steering gear breaks, and he was
manufactured at the famous dragon factory in this City of Thi.  Here
he comes, and you may examine him for yourselves."

They heard a low rumble and a shrill squeaking sound, and going out to
the front of the house, they saw coming around the corner a car drawn
by a gorgeous jeweled dragon, which moved its head to right and left
and flashed its eyes like headlights of an automobile and uttered a
growling noise as it slowly moved toward them.  When it stopped before
the High Coco-Lorum's house, Toto barked sharply at the sprawling
beast, but even tiny Trot could see that the dragon was not alive.
Its scales were of gold, and each one was set with sparkling jewels,
while it walked in such a stiff, regular manner that it could be
nothing else than a machine.  The chariot that trailed behind it was
likewise of gold and jewels, and when they entered it, they found
there were no seats.  Everyone was supposed to stand up while riding.
The charioteer was a little, diamond-headed fellow who straddled the
neck of the dragon and moved the levers that made it go.

"This," said the High Coco-Lorum pompously, "is a wonderful invention.
We are all very proud of our auto-dragons, many of which are in use by
our wealthy inhabitants.  Start the thing going, charioteer!"

The charioteer did not move.

"You forgot to order him in music,"
suggested Dorothy.

"Ah, so I did."

He touched a button and a music box in the dragon's
head began to play a tune.  At once the little charioteer pulled over
a lever, and the dragon began to move, very slowly and groaning
dismally as it drew the clumsy chariot after it.  Toto trotted between
the wheels.  The Sawhorse, the Mule, the Lion and the Woozy followed
after and had no trouble in keeping up with the machine.  Indeed, they
had to go slow to keep from running into it.  When the wheels turned,
another music box concealed somewhere under the chariot played a
lively march tune which was in striking contrast with the dragging
movement of the strange vehicle, and Button-Bright decided that the
music he had heard when they first sighted this city was nothing else
than a chariot plodding its weary way through the streets.

All the travelers from the Emerald City thought this ride the most
uninteresting and dreary they had ever experienced, but the High
Coco-Lorum seemed to think it was grand.  He pointed out the different
buildings and parks and fountains in much the same way that the
conductor does on an American "sightseeing wagon" does, and being
guests they were obliged to submit to the ordeal.  But they became a
little worried when their host told them he had ordered a banquet
prepared for them in the City Hall.  "What are we going to eat?"asked
Button-Bright suspiciously.

"Thistles," was the reply.  "Fine, fresh thistles, gathered this very
day."

Scraps laughed, for she never ate anything, but Dorothy said in a
protesting voice, "OUR insides are not lined with gold, you know."

"How sad!"exclaimed the High Coco-Lorum, and then he added as an
afterthought, "but we can have the thistles boiled, if you prefer."

I'm 'fraid they wouldn't taste good even then," said little Trot.
"Haven't you anything else to eat?"

The High Coco-Lorum shook his diamond-shaped head.

"Nothing that I know of," said he.  "But why should we have anything 
else when we have so many thistles?  However, if you can't eat what
we eat, don't eat anything.  We shall not be offended, and the banquet 
will be just as merry and delightful."

Knowing his companions were all hungry, the Wizard said, "I trust you
will excuse us from the banquet, sir, which will be merry enough
without us, although it is given in our honor.  For, as Ozma is not in
your city, we must leave here at once and seek her elsewhere."

"Sure we must!" Dorothy, and she whispered to Betsy and Trot,
"I'd rather starve somewhere else than in this city, and who knows, we
may run across somebody who eats reg'lar food and will give us some."

So when the ride was finished, in spite of the protests of the High
Coco-Lorum, they insisted on continuing their journey.  "It will soon
be dark," he objected.

"We don't mind the darkness," replied the Wizard.

"Some wandering Herku may get you."

"Do you think the Herkus would hurt us?"asked Dorothy.

"I cannot say, not having had the honor of their acquaintance.  But
they are said to be so strong that if they had any other place to
stand upon they could lift the world."

"All of them together?"asked Button-Bright wonderingly.

"Any one of them could do it," said the High Coco-Lorum.

"Have you heard of any magicians being among them?"
asked the Wizard, knowing that only a magician could have 
stolen Ozma in the way she had been stolen.

"I am told it is quite a magical country," declared the High
Coco-Lorum, "and magic is usually performed by magicians.  But I have
never heard that they have any invention or sorcery to equal our
wonderful auto-dragons."

They thanked him for his courtesy, and mounting their own animals rode
to the farther side of the city and right through the Wall of Illusion
out into the open country.  "I'm glad we got away so easily," said
Betsy.  "I didn't like those queer-shaped people."

"Nor did I," agreed Dorothy. "It seems dreadful to be lined with
sheets of pure gold and have nothing to eat but thistles."

"They seemed happy and contented, though," remarked the Wizard, "and
those who are contented have nothing to regret and nothing more to
wish for."




CHAPTER 10

TOTO LOSES SOMETHING

For a while the travelers were constantly losing their direction, for
beyond the thistle fields they again found themselves upon the
turning-lands, which swung them around one way and then another.  But
by keeping the City of Thi constantly behind them, the adventurers
finally passed the treacherous turning-lands and came upon a stony
country where no grass grew at all.  There were plenty of bushes,
however, and although it was now almost dark, the girls discovered
some delicious yellow berries growing upon the bushes, one taste of
which set them all to picking as many as they could find.  The berries
relieved their pangs of hunger for a time, and as it now became too
dark to see anything, they camped where they were.

The three girls lay down upon one of the blankets--all in a row--and
the Wizard covered them with the other blanket and tucked them in.
Button-Bright crawled under the shelter of some bushes and was asleep

The Wizard sat down with his back to a big stone
and looked at the stars in the sky and thought gravely upon the
dangerous adventure they had undertaken, wondering if they would ever
be able to find their beloved Ozma again.  The animals lay in a group
by themselves, a little distance from the others.  "I've lost my
growl!" said Toto, who had been very silent and sober all that day.
"What do you suppose has become of it?"

"If you had asked me to keep track of your growl, I might be able to
tell you," remarked the Lion sleepily.  "But frankly, Toto, I supposed
you were taking care of it yourself."

"It's an awful thing to lose one's growl," said Toto, wagging his tail
disconsolately.  "What if you lost your roar, Lion?  Wouldn't you feel
terrible?"

"My roar,"replied the Lion, "is the fiercest thing about me.  I depend
on it to frighten my enemies so badly that they won't dare to fight
me."

"Once," said the Mule, "I lost my bray so that I couldn't call to
Betsy to let her know I was hungry.  That was before I could talk, you
know, for I had not yet come into the Land of Oz, and I found it was
certainly very uncomfortable not to be able to make a noise."

"You make enough noise now," declared Toto.  "But none of you have
answered my question: Where is my growl?"

"You may search ME," said the Woozy.  "I don't care for such things,
myself."

"You snore terribly," asserted Toto.

"It may be," said the Woozy.  "What one does when asleep one is not
accountable for.  I wish you would wake me up sometime when I'm
snoring and let me hear the sound.  Then I can judge whether it is
terrible or delightful."

"It isn't pleasant, I assure you," said the Lion, yawning.

"To me it seems wholly unnecessary," declared Hank the Mule.

"You ought to break yourself of the habit," said the Sawhorse.  "You
never hear me snore, because I never sleep.  I don't even whinny as
those puffy meat horses do.  I wish that whoever stole Toto's growl
had taken the Mule's bray and the Lion's roar and the Woozy's snore at
the same time."

"Do you think, then, that my growl was stolen?"

"You have never lost it before, have you?" inquired
inquired the Sawhorse.

"Only once, when I had a sore throat from barking too long at the
moon."

"Is your throat sore now?" asked the Woozy.

"No," replied the dog.

"I can't understand," said Hank, "why dogs bark at the moon.  They
can't scare the moon, and the moon doesn't pay any attention to the
bark.  So why do dogs do it?"

"Were you ever a dog?" asked Toto.

"No indeed," replied Hank.  "I am thankful to say I was created a
mule--the most beautiful of all beasts--and have always remained one."

The Woozy sat upon his square haunches to examine Hank with care.
"Beauty," he said, "must be a matter of taste.  I don't say your
judgment is bad, friend Hank, or that you are so vulgar as to be
conceited.  But if you admire big, waggy ears and a tail like a
paintbrush and hoofs big enough for an elephant and a long neck and a
body so skinny that one can count the ribs with one eye shut--if
that's your idea of beauty, Hank, then either you or I must be much
mistaken."

"You're full of edges," sneered the Mule. "If I were square as you
are, I suppose you'd think me lovely."

"Outwardly, dear Hank, I would," replied the Woozy.
"But to be really lovely, one must be beautiful without and within."

The Mule couldn't deny this statement, so he gave a disgusted grunt
and rolled over so that his back was toward the Woozy.  But the Lion,
regarding the two calmly with his great, yellow eyes, said to the dog,
"My dear Toto, our friends have taught us a lesson in humility.  If
the Woozy and the Mule are indeed beautiful creatures as they seem to
think, you and I must be decidedly ugly."

"Not to ourselves," protested Toto, who was a shrewd little dog.  "You
and I, Lion, are fine specimens of our own races.  I am a fine dog,
and you are a fine lion.  Only in point of comparison, one with
another, can we be properly judged, so I will leave it to the poor old
Sawhorse to decide which is the most beautiful animal among us all.
The Sawhorse is wood, so he won't be prejudiced and will speak the
truth."

"I surely will," responded the Sawhorse, wagging his ears, which were
chips set in his wooden head.  "Are you all agreed to accept my
judgment?"

"We are!" they declared, each one hopeful.

"Then," said the Sawhorse, "I must point out to you the fact that you
are all meat creatures, who tire unless they sleep and starve unless
they eat and suffer from thirst unless they drink.  Such animals must
be very imperfect, and imperfect creatures cannot be beautiful.  Now,
I am made of wood."

"You surely have a wooden head," said the Mule.

"Yes, and a wooden body and wooden legs, which are as swift as the
wind and as tireless.  I've heard Dorothy say that 'handsome is as
handsome does,' and I surely perform my duties in a handsome manner.
Therefore, if you wish my honest judgment, I will confess that among
us all I am the most beautiful."

The Mule snorted, and the Woozy laughed; Toto had lost his growl and
could only look scornfully at the Sawhorse, who stood in his place
unmoved.  But the Lion stretched himself and yawned, saying quietly,
"Were we all like the Sawhorse, we would all be Sawhorses, which would
be too many of the kind.  Were we all like Hank, we would be a herd of
mules; if like Toto, we would be a pack of dogs; should we all become
the shape of the Woozy, he would no longer be remarkable for his
unusual appearance.  Finally, were you all like me, I would consider
you so common that I would not care to associate with you.  To be
individual, my friends, to be different from others, is the only way
to become distinguished from the common herd.  Let us be glad,
therefore, that we differ from one another in form and in disposition.
Variety is the spice of life, and we are various enough to enjoy one
another's society; so let us be content."

"There is some truth in that speech," remarked Toto reflectively.
"But how about my lost growl?"

"The growl is of importance only to you," responded the Lion, "so it
is your business to worry over the loss, not ours.  If you love us, do
not afflict your burdens on us; be unhappy all by yourself."

"If the same person stole my growl who stole Ozma," said the little
dog, "I hope we shall find him very soon and punish him as he
deserves.  He must be the most cruel person in all the world, for to
prevent a dog from growling when it is his nature to growl is just as
wicked, in my opinion, as stealing all the magic in Oz."



CHAPTER 11

BUTTON-BRIGHT LOSES HIMSELF

The Patchwork Girl, who never slept and who could see very well in the
dark, had wandered among the rocks and bushes all night long, with the
result that she was able to tell some good news the next morning.
"Over the crest of the hill before us," she said, "is a big grove of
trees of many kinds on which all sorts of fruits grow.  If you will go
there, you will find a nice breakfast awaiting you."  This made them
eager to start, so as soon as the blankets were folded and strapped to
the back of the Sawhorse, they all took their places on the animals
and set out for the big grove Scraps had told them of.

As soon as they got over the brow of the hill, they discovered it to
be a really immense orchard, extending for miles to the right and left
of them.  As their way led straight through the trees, they hurried
forward as fast as possible.  The first trees they came to bore
quinces, which they did not like.  Then there were rows of citron
trees and then crab apples and afterward limes and lemons.  But beyond
these they found a grove of big, golden oranges, juicy and sweet, and
the fruit hung low on the branches so they could pluck it easily.

They helped themselves freely and all ate oranges as they continued on
their way.  Then, a little farther along, they came to some trees
bearing fine, red apples, which they also feasted on, and the Wizard
stopped here long enough to tie a lot of the apples in one end of a
blanket.

"We do not know what will happen to us after we leave this
delightful orchard," he said, "so I think it wise to carry a supply of
apples with us.  We can't starve as long as we have apples, you know."

Scraps wasn't riding the Woozy just now.  She loved to climb the trees
and swing herself by the branches from one tree to another.  Some of
the choicest fruit was gathered by the Patchwork Girl from the very
highest limbs and tossed down to the others.  Suddenly, Trot asked,
"Where's Button-Bright?" and when the others looked for him, they
found the boy had disappeared.

"Dear me!" cried Dorothy.  "I guess he's lost again, and that will
mean our waiting here until we can find him."

"It's a good place to wait," suggested Betsy, who had found a plum
tree and was eating some of its fruit.

"How can you wait here and find Button-Bright at one and the same
time?" inquired the Patchwork Girl, hanging by her toes on a limb just
over the heads of the three mortal girls.

"Perhaps he'll come back here," answered Dorothy.

"If he tries that, he'll prob'ly lose his way," said Trot.  "I've
known him to do that lots of times.  It's losing his way that gets him
lost."

"Very true," said the Wizard.  "So all the rest of you must stay here
while I go look for the boy."

"Won't YOU get lost, too?" asked Betsy.

"I hope not, my dear."

"Let ME go," said Scraps, dropping lightly to the ground.  "I can't
get lost, and I'm more likely to find Button-Bright than any of you."
Without waiting for permission, she darted away through the trees and
soon disappeared from their view.

"Dorothy," said Toto, squatting beside his little mistress, "I've lost
my growl."

"How did that happen?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied Toto.  "Yesterday morning the Woozy nearly
stepped on me, and I tried to growl at him and found I couldn't growl
a bit."

"Can you bark?" inquired Dorothy.

"Oh, yes indeed."

"Then never mind the growl," said she.

"But what will I do when I get home to the Glass Cat and the Pink
Kitten?" asked the little dog in an anxious tone.

"They won't mind if you can't growl at them, I'm sure," said Dorothy.
"I'm sorry for you, of course, Toto, for it's just those things we
can't do that we want to do most of all; but before we get back, you
may find your growl again."

"Do you think the person who stole Ozma stole my growl?"

Dorothy smiled.

"Perhaps, Toto."

"Then he's a scoundrel!" cried the little dog.

"Anyone who would steal Ozma is as bad as bad can be," agreed Dorothy,
"and when we remember that our dear friend, the lovely Ruler of Oz, is
lost, we ought not to worry over just a growl."

Toto was not entirely satisfied with this remark, for the more he
thought upon his lost growl, the more important his misfortune became.
When no one was looking, he went away among the trees and tried his
best to growl--even a little bit--but could not manage to do so.  All
he could do was bark, and a bark cannot take the place of a growl, so
he sadly returned to the others.

Now Button-Bright had no idea that he was lost at first.  He had
merely wandered from tree to tree seeking the finest fruit until he
discovered he was alone in the great orchard.  But that didn't worry
him just then, and seeing some apricot trees farther on, he went to
them.  Then he discovered some cherry trees; just beyond these were
some tangerines.  "We've found 'most ev'ry kind of fruit but peaches,"
he said to himself, "so I guess there are peaches here, too, if I can
find the trees."

He searched here and there, paying no attention to his way, until he
found that the trees surrounding him bore only nuts.  He put some
walnuts in his pockets and kept on searching, and at last--right among
the nut trees--he came upon one solitary peach tree.  It was a
graceful, beautiful tree, but although it was thickly leaved, it bore
no fruit except one large, splendid peach, rosy-cheeked and fuzzy and
just right to eat.

In his heart he doubted this statement, for this was a solitary peach
tree, while all the other fruits grew upon many trees set close to one
another; but that one luscious bite made him unable to resist eating
the rest of it, and soon the peach was all gone except the pit.
Button-Bright was about to throw this peach pit away when he noticed
that it was of pure gold.  Of course, this surprised him, but so many
things in the Land of Oz were surprising that he did not give much
thought to the golden peach pit.  He put it in his pocket, however, to
show to the girls, and five minutes afterward had forgotten all about
it.

For now he realized that he was far separated from his companions, and
knowing that this would worry them and delay their journey, he began
to shout as loud as he could.  His voice did not penetrate very far
among all those trees, and after shouting a dozen times and getting no
answer, he sat down on the ground and said, "Well, I'm lost again.
It's too bad, but I don't see how it can be helped."

As he leaned his back against a tree, he looked up and saw a Bluefinch
fly down from the sky and alight upon a branch just before him.  The
bird looked and looked at him.  First it looked with one bright eye
and then turned its head and looked at him with the other eye.  Then,
fluttering its wings a little, it said, "Oho!  So you've eaten the
enchanted peach, have you?"

"Was it enchanted?" asked Button-Bright.

"Of course," replied the Bluefinch."Ugu the Shoemaker did that."

"But why?  And how was it enchanted?  And what will happen to one who
eats it?" questioned the boy.

."Ask Ugu the Shoemaker.  He knows," said the bird, preening its
feathers with its bill.

"And who is Ugu the Shoemaker?"

"The one who enchanted the peach and placed it here--in the exact
center of the Great Orchard--so no one would ever find it.  We birds
didn't dare to eat it; we are too wise for that.  But you are
Button-Bright from the Emerald City, and you, YOU, YOU ate the
enchanted peach!

You must explain to Ugu the Shoemaker why you did
that."  And then, before the boy could ask any more questions, the
bird flew away and left him alone.

Button-Bright was not much worried to find that the peach he had eaten
was enchanted.  It certainly had tasted very good, and his stomach
didn't ache a bit.  So again he began to reflect upon the best way to
rejoin his friends.  "Whichever direction I follow is likely to be the
wrong one," he said to himself, "so I'd better stay just where I am
and let THEM find ME--if they can."

A White Rabbit came hopping through the orchard and paused a little
way off to look at him.  "Don't be afraid," said Button-Bright.  "I
won't hurt you."

"Oh, I'm not afraid for myself," returned the White Rabbit.  "It's you
I'm worried about."

."Yes, I'm lost,' said the boy.

"I fear you are, indeed," answered the Rabbit.  "Why on earth did you
eat the enchanted peach?"

The boy looked at the excited little animal thoughtfully.  "There were
two reasons," he explained.  "One reason was that I like peaches, and
the other reason was that I didn't know it was enchanted."

"That won't save you from Ugu the Shoemaker," declared the White
Rabbit, and it scurried away before the boy could ask any more
questions.

"Rabbits and birds," he thought, "are timid creatures and seem afraid
of this shoemaker, whoever he may be.  If there was another peach half
as good as that other, I'd eat it in spite of a dozen enchantments or
a hundred shoemakers!"

Just then, Scraps came dancing along and saw him sitting at the foot
of the tree.  "Oh, here you are!" she said.   "Up to your old tricks,
eh?  Don't you know it's impolite to get lost and keep everybody
waiting for you?  Come along, and I'll lead you back to Dorothy and
the others."

Button-Bright rose slowly to accompany her.

"That wasn't much of a loss," he said cheerfully.  "I haven't 
been gone half a day, so there's no harm done."

Dorothy, however, when the boy rejoined the party, gave him a good
scolding.  "When we're doing such an important thing as searching for
Ozma," said she, "it's naughty for you to wander away and keep us from
getting on.  S'pose she's a pris'ner in a dungeon cell!  Do you want
to keep our dear Ozma there any longer than we can help?"

"If she's in a dungeon cell, how are you going to get her out?"
inquired the boy.

"Never you mind.  We'll leave that to the Wizard.  He's sure to find a
way."

The Wizard said nothing, for he realized that without his magic tools
he could do no more than any other person.  But there was no use
reminding his companions of that fact; it might discourage them.  "The
important thing just now," he remarked, "is to find Ozma, and as our
party is again happily reunited, I propose we move on."

As they came to the edge of the Great Orchard, the sun was setting and
they knew it would soon be dark.  So it was decided to camp under the
trees, as another broad plain was before them.  The Wizard spread the
blankets on a bed of soft leaves, and presently all of them except
Scraps and the Sawhorse were fast asleep.  Toto snuggled close to his
friend the Lion, and the Woozy snored so loudly that the Patchwork
Girl covered his square head with her apron to deaden the sound.



CHAPTER 12

CZAROVER OF HERKU

Trot wakened just as the sun rose, and slipping out of the blankets,
went to the edge of the Great Orchard and looked across the plain.
Something glittered in the far distance.  "That looks like another
city," she said half aloud.

"And another city it is," declared Scraps, who had crept to Trot's
side unheard, for her stuffed feet made no sound.  "The Sawhorse and I
made a journey in the dark while you were all asleep, and we found
over there a bigger city than Thi.  There's a wall around it, too, but
it has gates and plenty of pathways."

"Did you get in?" asked Trot.

"No, for the gates were locked and the wall was a real wall.  So we
came back here again.  It isn't far to the city.  We can reach it in
two hours after you've had your breakfasts."

Trot went back, and finding the other girls now awake, told them what
Scraps had said.  So they hurriedly ate some fruit--there were plenty
of plums and fijoas in this part of the orchard--and then they mounted
the animals and set out upon the journey to the strange city.  Hank
the Mule had breakfasted on grass, and the Lion had stolen away and
found a breakfast to his liking; he never told what it was, but
Dorothy hoped the little rabbits and the field mice had kept out of
his way.  She warned Toto not to chase birds and gave the dog some
apple, with which he was quite content.  The Woozy was as fond of
fruit as of any other food except honey, and the Sawhorse never ate at
all.

Except for their worry over Ozma, they were all in good spirits as
they proceeded swiftly over the plain.  Toto still worried over his
lost growl, but like a wise little dog kept his worry to himself.
Before long, the city grew nearer and they could examine it with
interest.

In outward appearance the place was more imposing than Thi,
and it was a square city, with a square, four-sided wall around it,
and on each side was a square gate of burnished copper.  Everything
about the city looked solid and substantial; there were no banners
flying, and the towers that rose above the city wall seemed bare of
any ornament whatever.

A path led from the fruit orchard directly to one of the city gates,
showing that the inhabitants preferred fruit to thistles.  Our friends
followed this path to the gate, which they found fast shut.  But the
Wizard advanced and pounded upon it with his fist, saying in a loud
voice, "Open!"

At once there rose above the great wall a row of immense heads, all of
which looked down at them as if to see who was intruding.  The size of
these heads was astonishing, and our friends at once realized that
they belonged to giants who were standing within the city.  All had
thick, bushy hair and whiskers, on some the hair being white and on
others black or red or yellow, while the hair of a few was just
turning gray, showing that the giants were of all ages.  However
fierce the heads might seem, the eyes were mild in expression, as if
the creatures had been long subdued, and their faces expressed
patience rather than ferocity.

"What's wanted?" asked one old giant in a low, grumbling voice.

"We are strangers, and we wish to enter the city," replied the Wizard.

"Do you come in war or peace?" asked another.

"In peace, of course," retorted the Wizard, and he added impatiently,
"Do we look like an army of conquest?"

"No," said the first giant who had spoken, "you look like innocent
tramps; but you never can tell by appearances.  Wait here until we
report to our masters.  No one can enter here without the permission
of Vig, the Czarover."

"Who's that?" inquired Dorothy.

But the heads had all bobbed down and disappeared behind 
the walls, so there was no answer.  They waited a long time 
before the gate rolled back with a rumbling sound, and a
loud voice cried, "Enter!"  But they lost no time in taking advantage
of the invitation.

On either side of the broad street that led into the city from the
gate stood a row of huge giants, twenty of them on a side and all
standing so close together that their elbows touched.  They wore
uniforms of blue and yellow and were armed with clubs as big around as
treetrunks.  Each giant had around his neck a broad band of gold,
riveted on, to show he was a slave.

As our friends entered riding upon the Lion, the Woozy, the Sawhorse
and the Mule, the giants half turned and walked in two files on either
side of them, as if escorting them on their way.  It looked to Dorothy
as if all her party had been made prisoners, for even mounted on their
animals their heads scarcely reached to the knees of the marching
giants.  The girls and Button-Bright were anxious to know what sort of
a city they had entered, and what the people were like who had made
these powerful creatures their slaves.  Through the legs of the giants
as they walked, Dorothy could see rows of houses on each side of the
street and throngs of people standing on the sidewalks, but the people
were of ordinary size and the only remarkable thing about them was the
fact that they were dreadfully lean and thin.  Between their skin and
their bones there seemed to be little or no flesh, and they were
mostly stoop-shouldered and weary looking, even to the little
children.

More and more, Dorothy wondered how and why the great giants had ever
submitted to become slaves of such skinny, languid masters, but there
was no chance to question anyone until they arrived at a big palace
located in the heart of the city.  Here the giants formed lines to the
entrance and stood still while our friends rode into the courtyard of
the palace.  Then the gates closed behind them, and before them was a
skinny little man who bowed low and said in a sad voice, "If you will
be so obliging as to dismount, it will give me pleasure to lead you
into the presence of the World's Most Mighty Ruler, Vig the Czarover."

"I don't believe it!" said Dorothy indignantly.

"What don't you believe?" asked the man.

"I don't believe your Czarover can hold a candle to our Ozma."

"He wouldn't hold a candle under any circumstances, or to any living
person," replied the man very seriously, "for he has slaves to do such
things and the Mighty Vig is too dignified to do anything that others
can do for him.  He even obliges a slave to sneeze for him, if ever he
catches cold.  However, if you dare to face our powerful ruler, follow
me."

"We dare anything," said the Wizard, "so go ahead."

Through several marble corridors having lofty ceilings they passed,
finding each corridor and doorway guarded by servants.  But these
servants of the palace were of the people and not giants, and they
were so thin that they almost resembled skeletons.  Finally, they
entered a great circular room with a high, domed ceiling, where the
Czarover sat on a throne cut from a solid block of white marble and
decorated with purple silk hangings and gold tassels.

The ruler of these people was combing his eyebrows when our friends
entered the throne room and stood before him, but he put the comb in
his pocket and examined the strangers with evident curiosity.  Then he
said, "Dear me, what a surprise!  You have really shocked me.  For no
outsider has ever before come to our City of Herku, and I cannot
imagine why you have ventured to do so."

"We are looking for Ozma, the Supreme Ruler of the Land of Oz,"
replied the Wizard.

"Do you see her anywhere around here?" asked the Czarover.

"Not yet, Your Majesty, but perhaps you may tell us where she is."

"No, I have my hands full keeping track of my own people.  I find them
hard to manage because they are so tremendously strong."

"They don't look very strong," said Dorothy. "It seems as if a good
wind would blow 'em way out of the city if it wasn't for the wall."

"Just so, just so," admitted the Czarover.  "They really look that
way, don't they?  But you must never trust to appearances, which have
a way of fooling one.  Perhaps you noticed that I prevented you from
meeting any of my people.  I protected you with my giants while you
were on the way from the gates to my palace so that not a Herku got
near you."

"Are your people so dangerous, then?"asked the Wizard.

"To strangers, yes.  But only because they are so friendly.  For if
they shake hands with you, they are likely to break your arms or crush
your fingers to a jelly."

"Why?" asked Button-Bright.

"Because we are the strongest people in all the world."

"Pshaw!"exclaimed the boy.  "That's bragging.  You prob'ly don't know
how strong other people are.  Why, once I knew a man in Philadelphi'
who could bend iron bars with just his hands!"

"But mercy me, it's no trick to bend iron bars," said His Majesty.
"Tell me, could this man crush a block of stone with his bare hands?"

"No one could do that," declared the boy.

"If I had a block of stone, I'd show you," said the Czarover, looking
around the room.  "Ah, here is my throne.  The back is too high,
anyhow, so I'll just break off a piece of that."  He rose to his feet
and tottered in an uncertain way around the throne.  Then he took hold
of the back and broke off a piece of marble over a foot thick.
"This," said he, coming back to his seat, "is very solid marble and
much harder than ordinary stone.  Yet I can crumble it easily with my
fingers, a proof that I am very strong."

Even as he spoke, he began breaking off chunks of marble and crumbling
them as one would a bit of earth.  The Wizard was so astonished that
he took a piece in his own hands and tested it, finding it very hard
indeed.

Just then one of the giant servants entered and exclaimed, "Oh, Your
Majesty, the cook has burned the soup!  What shall we do?"

"How dare you interrupt me?".

"asked the Czarover, and grasping the
immense giant by one of his legs, he raised him in the air and threw
him headfirst out of an open window.  "Now, tell me," he said, turning
to Button-Bright, "could your man in Philadelphia crumble marble in
his fingers?"

."I guess not," said Button-Bright, much impressed by the skinny
monarch's strength.

"What makes you so strong?" inquired Dorothy.

"It's the zosozo," he explained, "which is an invention of my own.  I
and all my people eat zosozo, and it gives us tremendous strength.
Would you like to eat some?"

"No thank you," replied the girl.  "I--I don't want to get so thin."

"Well, of course one can't have strength and flesh at the same time,"
said the Czarover.  "Zosozo is pure energy, and it's the only compound
of its sort in existence.  I never allow our giants to have it, you
know, or they would soon become our masters, since they are bigger
that we; so I keep all the stuff locked up in my private laboratory.
Once a year I feed a teaspoonful of it to each of my people--men,
women and children--so every one of them is nearly as strong as I am.
Wouldn't YOU like a dose, sir?" he asked, turning to the Wizard.

"Well," said the Wizard, "if you would give me a little zosozo in a
bottle, I'd like to take it with me on my travels.  It might come in
handy on occasion."

"To be sure.  I'll give you enough for six doses," promised the
Czarover.

"But don't take more than a teaspoonful at a time.  Once Ugu
the Shoemaker took two teaspoonsful, and it made him so strong that
when he leaned against the city wall, he pushed it over, and we had to
build it up again."

"Who is Ugu the Shoemaker?"

Button-Bright curiously, for he now remembered that the bird and 
the rabbit had claimed Ugu the Shoemaker had enchanted the 
peach he had eaten.

"Why, Ugu is a great magician who used to live here.  But he's gone
away now," replied the Czarover.

"Where has he gone?" asked the Wizard quickly.

"I am told he lives in a wickerwork castle in the mountains to the
west of here.  You see, Ugu became such a powerful magician that he
didn't care to live in our city any longer for fear we would discover
some of his secrets.  So he went to the mountains and built him a
splendid wicker castle which is so strong that even I and my people
could not batter it down, and there he lives all by himself."

"This is good news," declared the Wizard, "for I think this is just
the magician we are searching for.  But why is he called Ugu the
Shoemaker?"

"Once he was a very common citizen here and made shoes for a living,"
replied the monarch of Herku.  "But he was descended from the greatest
wizard and sorcerer who ever lived in this or in any other country,
and one day Ugu the Shoemaker discovered all the magical books and
recipes of his famous great-grandfather, which had been hidden away in
the attic of his house.  So he began to study the papers and books and
to practice magic, and in time he became so skillful that, as I said,
he scorned our city and built a solitary castle for himself."

"Do you think" asked Dorothy anxiously, "that Ugu the Shoemaker would
be wicked enough to steal our Ozma of Oz?"

"And the Magic Picture?" asked Trot.

"And the Great Book of Records of Glinda the Good?"
 asked Betsy.

"And my own magic tools?" asked the Wizard.

" replied the Czarover, "I won't say that Ugu is wicked,
exactly, but he is very ambitious to become the most powerful magician
in the world, and so I suppose he would not be too proud to steal any
magic things that belonged to anybody else--if he could manage to do
so."

"But how about Ozma?  Why would he wish to steal HER?"questioned
Dorothy.

"Don't ask me, my dear.  Ugu doesn't tell me why he does things, I
assure you."

Then we must go and ask him ourselves," declared the little girl.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," advised the Czarover, looking
first at the three girls and then at the boy and the little Wizard and
finally at the stuffed Patchwork Girl.  "If Ugu has really stolen your
Ozma, he will probably keep her a prisoner, in spite of all your
threats or entreaties.  And with all his magical knowledge he would be
a dangerous person to attack.  Therefore, if you are wise, you will go
home again and find a new Ruler for the Emerald City and the Land of
Oz.  But perhaps it isn't Ugu the Shoemaker who has stolen your Ozma."

"The only way to settle that question," replied the Wizard, "is to go
to Ugu's castle and see if Ozma is there.  If she is, we will report
the matter to the great Sorceress Glinda the Good, and I'm pretty sure
she will find a way to rescue our darling ruler from the Shoemaker."

"Well, do as you please," said the Czarover, "but if you are all
transformed into hummingbirds or caterpillars, don't blame me for not
warning you."

They stayed the rest of that day in the City of Herku and were fed at
the royal table of the Czarover and given sleeping rooms in his
palace.  The strong monarch treated them very nicely and gave the
Wizard a little golden vial of zosozo to use if ever he or any of his

 Even at the last, the Czarover tried to persuade them not to go 
near Ugu the Shoemaker, but they were resolved on the venture,
and the next morning bade the friendly monarch a cordial goodbye 
and, mounting upon their animals, left the Herkus and the City of 
Herku and headed for the mountains that lay to the west.



CHAPTER 13 

TRUTH POND

It seems a long time since we have heard anything of the Frogman and
Cayke the Cookie Cook, who had left the Yip Country in search of the
diamond-studded dishpan which had been mysteriously stolen the same
night that Ozma had disappeared from the Emerald City.
But you must remember that while the Frogman and the Cookie 
Cook were preparing to descend from their mountaintop, and 
even while on their way to the farmhouse of Wiljon the Winkie, 
Dorothy and the Wizard and their friends were encountering 
the adventures we have just related.

So it was that on the very morning when the travelers from the Emerald
City bade farewell to the Czarover of the City of Herku, Cayke and the
Frogman awoke in a grove in which they had passed the night sleeping
on beds of leaves.  There were plenty of farmhouses in the 
neighborhood, but no one seemed to welcome the puffy, haughty Frogman
or the little dried-up Cookie Cook, and so they slept comfortably
enough underneath the trees of the grove.  The Frogman wakened first
on this morning, and after going to the tree where Cayke slept and
finding her still wrapped in slumber, he decided to take a little walk
and seek some breakfast.  Coming to the edge of the grove, he observed
half a mile away a pretty yellow house that was surrounded by a yellow
picket fence, so he walked toward this house and on entering the yard
found a Winkie woman picking up sticks with which to build a fire to
cook her morning meal.

"For goodness sake!" she exclaimed on seeing the Frogman.  "What are
you doing out of your frog-pond?"

"I am traveling in search of a jeweled gold dishpan, my good woman,"
he replied with an air of great dignity.

"You won't find it here, then," said she."Our dishpans are tin, and
they're good enough for anybody.  So go back to your pond and leave me
alone."  She spoke rather crossly and with a lack of respect that
greatly annoyed the Frogman.

"Allow me to tell you, madam," said he, "that although I am a frog, I
am the Greatest and Wisest Frog in all the world.  I may add that I
possess much more wisdom than any Winkie--man or woman--in this land.
Wherever I go, people fall on their knees before me and render homage
to the Great Frogman!  No one else knows so much as I; no one else is
so grand, so magnificent!"

"If you know so much," she retorted, "why don't you know where your
dishpan is instead of chasing around the country after it?"

"Presently," he answered, "I am going where it is, but just now I am
traveling and have had no breakfast.  Therefore I honor you by asking
you for something to eat."

"Oho!  The Great Frogman is hungry as any tramp, is he?  Then pick up
these sticks and help me to build the fire," said the woman
contemptuously.

"Me!   The Great Frogman pick up sticks?" he exclaimed in horror.  "In
the Yip Country where I am more honored and powerful than any King
could be, people weep with joy when I ask them to feed me."

"Then that's the place to go for your breakfast," declared the woman.

"I fear you do not realize my importance," urged the Frogman.
"Exceeding wisdom renders me superior to menial duties."

"It's a great wonder to me," remarked the woman, carrying her sticks
to the house, "that your wisdom doesn't inform you that you'll get no
breakfast here."  And she went in and slammed the door behind her.

The Frogman felt he had been insulted, so he gave a loud croak of
indignation and turned away.  After going a short distance, he came
upon a faint path which led across a meadow in the direction of a
grove of pretty trees, and thinking this circle of evergreens must
surround a house where perhaps he would be kindly received, he decided
to follow the path.  And by and by he came to the trees, which were
set close together, and pushing aside some branches he found no house
inside the circle, but instead a very beautiful pond of clear water.

Now the Frogman, although he was so big and well educated and now aped
the ways and customs of human beings, was still a frog.  As he gazed
at this solitary, deserted pond, his love for water returned to him
with irresistible force.  "If I cannot get a breakfast, I may at least
have a fine swim," said he, and pushing his way between the trees, he
reached the bank.  There he took off his fine clothing, laying his
shiny purple hat and his gold-headed cane beside it.  A moment later,
he sprang with one leap into the water and dived to the very bottom of
the pond.

The water was deliciously cool and grateful to his thick, rough skin,
and the Frogman swam around the pond several times before he stopped
to rest.  Then he floated upon the surface and examined the pond with
The bottom and sides were all lined with glossy tiles of a light pink 
color; just one place in the bottom where the water bubbled up from 
a hidden spring had been left free.  On the banks, the green grass 
grew to the edge of the pink tiling.  And now, as the Frogman examined 
the place, he found that on one side of the pool, just above the water 
line, had been set a golden plate on which some words were deeply 
engraved.  He swam toward this plate, and on reaching it read the 
following inscription:

      This is   

THE TRUTH POND

$$Whoever bathes in this

water must always afterward tell


THE TRUTH.&&

This statement startled the Frogman.  It even worried him, so that he
leaped upon the bank and hurriedly began to dress himself.  "A great
misfortune has befallen me," he told himself, "for hereafter I cannot
tell people I am wise, since it is not the truth.  The truth is that
my boasted wisdom is all a sham, assumed by me to deceive people and
make them defer to me.  In truth, no living creature can know much
more than his fellows, for one may know one thing, and another know
another thing, so that wisdom is evenly scattered throughout the
world.  But--ah me!--what a terrible fate will now be mine.  Even
Cayke the Cookie Cook will soon discover that my knowledge is no
greater than her own, for having bathed in the enchanted water of the
Truth Pond, I can no longer deceive her or tell a lie."

More humbled than he had been for many years, the Frogman went back to
the grove where he had left Cayke and found the woman now awake and
washing her face in a tiny brook.  "Where has Your Honor been?" she
asked.

"To a farmhouse to ask for something to eat," said he, "but the woman
refused me."

"How dreadful!" she exclaimed.  "But never mind, there are other
houses where the people will be glad to feed the Wisest Creature in
all the World."

"Do you mean yourself?" he asked.

"No, I mean you."

The Frogman felt strongly impelled to tell the truth, but struggled
hard against it.  His reason told him there was no use in letting
Cayke know he was not wise, for then she would lose much respect for
him, but each time he opened his mouth to speak, he realized he was
about to tell the truth and shut it again as quickly as possible.  He
tried to talk about something else, but the words necessary to
undeceive the woman would force themselves to his lips in spite of all
his struggles.  Finally, knowing that he must either remain dumb or
let the truth prevail, he gave a low groan of despair and said,
"Cayke, I am NOT the Wisest Creature in all the World; I am not wise
at all."

"Oh, you must be!" she protested. "You told me so yourself, only last evening."

"Then last evening I failed to tell you the truth," he admitted,
looking very shamefaced for a frog.  "I am sorry I told you this lie,
my good Cayke, but if you must know the truth, the whole truth and
nothing but the truth, I am not really as wise as you are."

The Cookie Cook was greatly shocked to hear this, for it shattered one
of her most pleasing illusions.  She looked at the gorgeously dressed
Frogman in amazement.  "What has caused you to change your mind so
suddenly?" she inquired.

"I have bathed in the Truth Pond," he said, "and whoever bathes in
that water is ever afterward obliged to tell the truth."

"You were foolish to do that," declared the woman.

"It is often very embarrassing to tell the truth.  I'm glad I didn't 
bathe in that dreadful water!"

The Frogman looked at his companion thoughtfully.  "Cayke," said he,
"I want you to go to the Truth Pond and take a bath in its water.  For
if we are to travel together and encounter unknown adventures, it
would not be fair that I alone must always tell you the truth, while
you could tell me whatever you pleased.  If we both dip in the
enchanted water, there will be no chance in the future of our
deceiving one another."

"No," she asserted, shaking her head positively, "I won't do it, Your
Honor.  For if I told you the truth, I'm sure you wouldn't like me.
No Truth Pond for me.

I'll be just as I am, an honest woman who can
say what she wants to without hurting anyone's feelings."

With this decision the Frogman was forced to be content, although he
was sorry the Cookie Cook would not listen to his advice.




CHAPTER 14

THE UNHAPPY FERRYMAN


Leaving the grove where they had slept, the Frogman and the Cookie
Cook turned to the east to seek another house, and after a short walk
came to one where the people received them very politely.  The
children stared rather hard at the big, pompous Frogman, but the woman
of the house, when Cayke asked for something to eat, at once brought
them food and said they were welcome to it.  "Few people in need of
help pass this way," she remarked, "for the Winkies are all prosperous
and love to stay in their own homes.  But perhaps you are not a
Winkie," she added.

"No," said Cayke, "I am a Yip, and my home is on a high mountain at
the southeast of your country."

"And the Frogman, is he also a Yip?"

"I do not know what he is, other than a very remarkable and highly
educated creature," replied the Cookie Cook.  "But he has lived many
years among the Yips, who have found him so wise and intelligent that
they always go to him for advice."

"May I ask why you have left your home and where you are going?" said
the Winkie woman.

Then Cayke told her of the diamond-studded gold dishpan and how it had
been mysteriously stolen from her house, after which she had
discovered that she could no longer cook good cookies.  So she had
resolved to search until she found her dishpan again, because a Cookie
cook who cannot cook good cookies is not of much use.  The Frogman,
who had wanted to see more of the world, had accompanied her to assist
in the search.  When the woman had listened to this story, she asked,
"Then you have no idea as yet who has stolen your dishpan?"

"I only know it must have been some mischievous fairy, or a magician,
or some such powerful person, because none other could have climbed
the steep mountain to the Yip Country.  And who else could have
carried away my beautiful magic dishpan without being seen?"

The woman thought about this during the time that Cayke and the
Frogman ate their breakfast.  When they had finished, she said, "Where
are you going next?"

"We have not decided," answered the Cookie cook.

"Our plan," explained the Frogman in his important way, "is to travel
from place to place until we learn where the thief is located and then
to force him to return the dishpan to its proper owner."

"The plan is all right," agreed the woman, "but it may take you a long
time before you succeed, your method being sort of haphazard and
indefinite.  However, I advise you to travel toward the east."

"Why?" asked the Frogman.

"Because if you went west, you would soon come to the desert, and also
because in this part of the Winkie Country no one steals, so your time
here would be wasted.  But toward the east, beyond the river, live
many strange people whose honesty I would not vouch for.  Moreover, if
you journey far enough east and cross the river for a second time, you
will come to the Emerald City, where there is much magic and sorcery.
The Emerald City is ruled by a dear little girl called Ozma, who also
rules the Emperor of the Winkies and all the Land of Oz.  So, as Ozma
is a fairy, she may be able to tell you just who has taken your
precious dishpan.  Provided, of course, you do not find it before you
reach her."

."This seems to be to be excellent advice," said the Frogman, and Cayke
agreed with him.

."The most sensible thing for you to do," continued the woman, "would
be to return to your home and use another dishpan, learn to cook
cookies as other people cook cookies, without the aid of magic.  But
if you cannot be happy without the magic dishpan you have lost, you
are likely to learn more about it in the Emerald City than at any
other place in Oz."

They thanked the good woman, and on leaving her house faced the east
and continued in that direction all the way.  Toward evening they came
to the west branch of the Winkie River and there, on the riverbank,
found a ferryman who lived all alone in a little yellow house.  This
ferryman was a Winkie with a very small head and a very large body.
He was sitting in his doorway as the travelers approached him and did
not even turn his head to look at them.

"Good evening," said the Frogman.

The ferryman made no reply.

"We would like some supper and the privilege of sleeping in your house
until morning," continued the Frogman.  "At daybreak, we would like
some breakfast, and then we would like to have you row us across the
river."

The ferryman neither moved nor spoke.  He sat in his doorway and
looked straight ahead.  "I think he must be deaf and dumb," Cayke
whispered to her companion.  Then she stood directly in front of the
ferryman, and putting her mouth close to his ear, she yelled as loudly
as she could, "Good evening!"

The ferryman scowled.

  "Why do you yell at me, woman?" he asked.

"Can you hear what I say?" asked in her ordinary tone of voice.

"Of course," replied the man.

"Then why didn't you answer the Frogman?"
"Because," said the ferryman, "I don't understand the frog language."

"He speaks the same words that I do and in the same way," declared
Cayke.

"Perhaps," replied the ferryman, "but to me his voice sounded like a
frog's croak.  I know that in the Land of Oz animals can speak our
language, and so can the birds and bugs and fishes; but in MY ears,
they sound merely like growls and chirps and croaks."

"Why is that?" asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.

"Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which had taunted me,
and I stole some birds' eggs from a nest to make an omelet with, and
also I pulled a fish from the river and left it lying on the bank to
gasp for lack of water until it died.  I don't know why I did those
wicked things, but I did them.  So the Emperor of the Winkies--who is
the Tin Woodman and has a very tender tin heart--punished me by
denying me any communication with beasts, birds or fishes.  I cannot
understand them when they speak to me, although I know that other
people can do so, nor can the creatures understand a word I say to
them.  Every time I meet one of them, I am reminded of my former
cruelty, and it makes me very unhappy."

"Really," said Cayke, "I'm sorry for you, although the Tin Woodman is
not to blame for punishing you."

"What is he mumbling about?" asked the Frogman.

"He is talking to me, but you don't understand him," she replied.  And
then she told him of the ferryman's punishment and afterward explained
to the ferryman that they wanted to stay all night with him and be
fed.  He gave them some fruit and bread, which was the only sort of
food he had, and he allowed Cayke to sleep in a room of his cottage.
But the Frogman he refused to admit to his house, saying that the
frog's presence made him miserable and unhappy.  At no time would he
directly at the Frogman, or even toward him, fearing he would
shed tears if he did so; so the big frog slept on the riverbank where
he could hear little frogs croaking in the river all the night
through. But that did not keep him awake; it merely soothed him to
slumber, for he realized how much superior he was to them.

Just as the sun was rising on a new day, the ferryman rowed the two
travelers across the river--keeping his back to the Frogman all the
way--and then Cayke thanked him and bade him goodbye and the ferryman
rowed home again.

On this side of the river, there were no paths at
all, so it was evident they had reached a part of the country little
frequented by travelers.  There was a marsh at the south of them,
sandhills at the north, and a growth of scrubby underbrush leading
toward a forest at the east.  So the east was really the least
difficult way to go, and that direction was the one they had
determined to follow.

Now the Frogman, although he wore green patent-leather shoes with ruby
buttons, had very large and flat feet, and when he tramped through the
scrub, his weight crushed down the underbrush and made a path for
Cayke to follow him.  Therefore they soon reached the forest, where
the tall trees were set far apart but were so leafy that they shaded
all the spaces between them with their branches.  "There are no bushes
here," said Cayke, much pleased, "so we can now travel faster and with
more comfort."


CHAPTER 15

THE BIG LAVENDER BEAR

It was a pleasant place to wander, and the two travelers were
proceeding at a brisk pace when suddenly a voice shouted, "Halt!"

They looked around in surprise, seeing at first no one at all.  Then
from behind a tree there stepped a brown, fuzzy bear whose head came
about as high as Cayke's waist--and Cayke was a small woman.  The bear
was chubby as well as fuzzy; his body was even puffy, while his legs
and arms seemed jointed at the knees and elbows and fastened to his
body by pins or rivets.  His ears were round in shape and stuck out in
a comical way, while his round, black eyes were bright and sparkling
as beads.  Over his shoulder the little brown bear bore a gun with a
tin barrel.  The barrel had a cork in the end of it, and a string was
attached to the cork and to the handle of the gun.  Both the Frogman
and Cayke gazed hard at this curious bear, standing silent for some
time.  But finally the Frogman recovered from his surprise and
remarked, "It seems to me that you are stuffed with sawdust and ought
not to be alive."

"That's all you know about it," answered the little Brown Bear in a
squeaky voice.  "I am stuffed with a very good quality of curled hair,
and my skin is the best plush that was ever made.  As for my being
alive, that is my own affair and cannot concern you at all, except
that it gives me the privilege to say you are my prisoners."

"Prisoners!   Why do you speak such nonsense?" the Frogman
angrily.  "Do you think we are afraid of a toy bear with a toy gun?"

"You ought to be," was the confident reply, "for I am merely the
sentry guarding the way to Bear Center, which is a city containing
hundreds of my race, who are ruled by a very powerful sorcerer known
as the Lavender Bear.  
He ought to be a purple color, you know, seeing
he is a King, but he's only light lavender, which is, of course,
second cousin to royal purple.  So unless you come with me peaceably
as my prisoners, I shall fire my gun and bring a hundred bears of all
sizes and colors to capture you."

"Why do you wish to capture us?" inquired the Frogman, who had
listened to his speech with much astonishment.

"I don't wish to, as a matter of fact," replied the little Brown Bear,
"but it is my duty to, because you are now trespassing on the domain
of His Majesty, the King of Bear Center.  Also, I will admit that
things are rather quiet in our city just now, and the excitement of
your capture, followed by your trial and execution, should afford us
much entertainment."

"We defy you!" said the Frogman.

"Oh no, don't do that," pleaded Cayke, speaking to her companion.  "He
says his King is a sorcerer, so perhaps it is he or one of his bears
who ventured to steal my jeweled dishpan.  Let us go to the City of
the Bears and discover if my dishpan is there."

"I must now register one more charge against you," remarked the little
Brown Bear with evident satisfaction.  "You have just accused us of
stealing, and that is such a dreadful thing to say that I am quite
sure our noble King will command you to be executed."

"But how could you execute us?" inquired the Cookie Cook.

"I've no idea. But our King is a wonderful inventor, and there is no
doubt he can find a proper way to destroy you.  So tell me, are you
going to struggle, or will you go peaceably to meet your doom?"

It was all so ridiculous that Cayke laughed aloud, and even the
Frogman's wide mouth curled in a smile.  Neither was a bit afraid to
go to the Bear City, and it seemed to both that there was a
possibility they might discover the missing dishpan.  So the Frogman
said, "Lead the way, little Bear, and we will follow without a
struggle."

"That's very sensible of you, very sensible indeed," declared the
Brown Bear.  "So for-ward, MARCH!" And with the command he turned
around and began to waddle along a path that led between the trees.

Cayke and the Frogman, as they followed their conductor, could scarce
forbear laughing at his stiff, awkward manner of walking, and although
he moved his stuffy legs fast, his steps were so short that they had
to go slowly in order not to run into him. But after a time they
reached a large, circular space in the center of the forest, which was
clear of any stumps or underbrush.  The ground was covered by a soft,
gray moss, pleasant to tread upon.  All the trees surrounding this
space seemed to be hollow and had round holes in their trunks, set a
little way above the ground, but otherwise there was nothing unusual
about the place and nothing, in the opinion of the prisoners, to
indicate a settlement.  But the little Brown Bear said in a proud and
impressive voice (although it still squeaked), "This is the wonderful
city known to fame as Bear Center!"

"But there are no houses, there are no bears living here at all!"
exclaimed Cayke.

"Oh indeed!" retorted their captor, and raising his gun he pulled the
trigger.  The cork flew out of the tin barrel with a loud "pop!" and
at once from every hole in every tree within view of the clearing
appeared the head of a bear.  They were of many colors and of many
sizes, but all were made in the same manner as the bear who had met
and captured them.

At first a chorus of growls arose, and then a sharp voice cried, "What
has happened, Corporal Waddle?"

"Captives, Your Majesty!" answered the Brown Bear.  "Intruders upon
our domain and slanderers of our good name."

"Ah, that's important," answered the voice.

Then from out the hollow trees tumbled a whole regiment of stuffed
bears, some carrying tin swords, some popguns and others long spears
with gay ribbons tied to the handles.  There were hundreds of them,
altogether, and they quietly formed a circle around the Frogman and
the Cookie Cook, but kept at a distance and left a large space for the
prisoners to stand in.  Presently, this circle parted, and into the
center of it stalked a huge toy bear of a lovely lavender color.  He
walked upon his hind legs, as did all the others, and on his head he
wore a tin crown set with diamonds and amethysts, while in one paw he
carried a short wand of some glittering metal that resembled silver
but wasn't.

"His Majesty the King!" Corporal Waddle, and all the bears
bowed low.  Some bowed so low that they lost their balance and toppled
over, but they soon scrambled up again, and the Lavender King squatted
on his haunches before the prisoners and gazed at them steadily with
his bright, pink eyes.


CHAPTER 16

THE LITTLE PINK BEAR

"One Person and one Freak," said the big Lavender Bear when he had
carefully examined the strangers.

"I am sorry to hear you call poor Cayke the Cookie Cook a Freak,"
remonstrated the Frogman.

"She is the Person," asserted the King.  "Unless I am mistaken, it is
you who are the Freak."

The Frogman was silent, for he could not truthfully deny it.

"Why have you dared intrude in my forest?" demanded
demanded the Bear King.

"We didn't know it was your forest," said Cayke, "and we are on our
way to the far east, where the Emerald City is."

"Ah, it's a long way from here to the Emerald City," remarked the
King.  "It is so far away, indeed, that no bear among us has even been
there.  But what errand requires you to travel such a distance?"

"Someone has stolen my diamond-studded gold dishpan," explained Cayke,
"and as I cannot be happy without it, I have decided to search the
world over until I find it again.  The Frogman, who is very learned
and wonderfully wise, has come with me to give me his assistance.
Isn't it kind of him?"

The King looked at the Frogman.

"What makes you so wonderfully wise?" 
he asked.

"I'm not," was the candid reply."The Cookie Cook and some others in
the Yip Country think because I am a big frog and talk and act like a
man that I must be very wise.  I have learned more than a frog usually
knows, it is true, but I am not yet so wise as I hope to become at
some future time."

The King nodded, and when he did so, something squeaked in his chest.
"Did Your Majesty speak?" asked Cayke.

"Not just then," answered the Lavender Bear, seeming to be somewhat
embarrassed.  "I am so built, you must know, that when anything pushes
against my chest, as my chin accidentally did just then, I make that
silly noise.  In this city it isn't considered good manners to notice.
But I like your Frogman.

He is honest and truthful, which is more than can be said 
of many others.  As for your late lamented dishpan, I'll 
show it to you."  With this he waved three times the metal wand
which he held in his paw, and instantly there appeared upon the ground
midway between the King and Cayke a big, round pan made of beaten
gold.  Around the top edge was a row of small diamonds; around the
center of the pan was another row of larger diamonds; and at the
bottom was a row of exceedingly large and brilliant diamonds.  In
fact, they all sparkled magnificently, and the pan was so big and
broad that it took a lot of diamonds to go around it three times.

Cayke stared so hard that her eyes seemed about to pop out of her
head.  "O-o-o-h!" she exclaimed, drawing a deep breath of delight.

"Is this your dishpan?" inquired the King.

"It is, it is!" cried the Cookie Cook, and rushing forward, she fell
on her knees and threw her arms around the precious pan.  But her arms
came together without meeting any resistance at all.  Cayke tried to
seize the edge, but found nothing to grasp.  The pan was surely there,
she thought, for she could see it plainly; but it was not solid; she
could not feel it at all.  With a moan of astonishment and despair,
she raised her head to look at the Bear King, who was watching her
actions curiously.  Then she turned to the pan again, only to find it
had completely disappeared.

"Poor creature!" murmured the King pityingly.  "You must have thought,
for the moment, that you had actually recovered your dishpan.  But
what you saw was merely the image of it, conjured up by means of my
magic. It is a pretty dishpan, indeed, though rather big and awkward
to handle.  I hope you will some day find it."

Cayke was grievously disappointed.  She began to cry, wiping her eyes
on her apron.  The King turned to the throng of toy bears surrounding
him and asked, "Has any of you ever seen this golden dishpan before?"

"No," they answered in a chorus.

The King seemed to reflect.  Presently he inquired, "Where is the
Little Pink Bear?"

"At home, Your Majesty," was the reply.

"Fetch him here," commanded the King.

Several of the bears waddled over to one of the trees and pulled 
from its hollow a tiny pink bear, smaller than any of the others.  
A big, white bear carried the pink one in his arms and set it down 
beside the King, arranging the joints of its legs so that it would stand upright.

This Pink Bear seemed lifeless until the King turned a crank which
protruded from its side, when the little creature turned its head
stiffly from side to side and said in a small, shrill voice, "Hurrah
for the King of Bear Center!"

"Very good," said the big Lavender Bear.  "He seems to be working very
well today.  Tell me, my Pink Pinkerton, what has become of this
lady's jeweled dishpan?"

"U-u-u," said the Pink Bear, and then stopped short.

The King turned the crank again.

"U-g-u the Shoemaker has it," said
the Pink Bear.

"Who is Ugu the Shoemaker?" demanded the King, again turning the
crank.

"A magician who lives on a mountain in a wickerwork castle," was the
reply.

"Where is the mountain?" was the next question.

"Nineteen miles and three furlongs from Bear Center to the northeast."

"And is the dishpan still at the castle of Ugu the Shoemaker?" asked
the King.

"It is."

The King turned to Cayke.

"You may rely on this information," said he.  "The Pink 
Bear can tell us anything we wish to know, and his
words are always words of truth."

"Is he alive?" asked the Frogman, much interested in the Pink Bear.

"Something animates him when you turn his crank," replied the King.
"I do not know if it is life or what it is or how it happens that the
Little Pink Bear can answer correctly every question put to him.  We
discovered his talent a long time ago, and whenever we wish to know
anything--which is not very often--we ask the Pink Bear.  There is no
doubt whatever, madam, that Ugu the Magician has your dishpan, and if
you dare to go to him, you may be able to recover it.  But of that I
am not certain."

"Can't the Pink Bear tell?" asked Cayke anxiously.

"No, for that is in the future.  He can tell anything that HAS
happened, but nothing that is going to happen.  Don't ask me why, for
I don't know."

"Well," said the Cookie Cook after a little thought, "I mean to go to
this magician, anyhow, and tell him I want my dishpan.  I wish I knew
what Ugu the Shoemaker is like."

"Then I'll show him to you," promised the King.  "But do not be
frightened.  It won't be Ugu, remember, but only his image."  With
this, he waved his metal wand, and in the circle suddenly appeared a
thin little man, very old and skinny, who was seated on a wicker stool
before a wicker table.  On the table lay a Great Book with gold
clasps. The Book was open, and the man was reading in it.  He wore
great spectacles which were fastened before his eyes by means of a
ribbon that passed around his head and was tied in a bow at the neck.
His hair was very thin and white; his skin, which clung fast to his
bones, was brown and seared with furrows; he had a big, fat nose and
little eyes set close together.

On no account was Ugu the Shoemaker a pleasant person to gaze at.  As
his image appeared before the, all were silent and intent until
Corporal Waddle, the Brown Bear, became nervous and pulled the trigger
of his gun.  Instantly, the cork flew out of the tin barrel with a
loud "pop!" that made them all jump.  And at this sound, the image of
the magician vanished.  "So THAT'S the thief, is it?" said Cayke in an
angry voice. "I should think he'd be ashamed of himself for stealing
a poor woman's diamond dishpan!  But I mean to face him in his wicker
castle and force him to return my property."

"To me," said the Bear King reflectively, "he looked like a dangerous
person.  I hope he won't be so unkind as to argue the matter with
you."

The Frogman was much disturbed by the vision of Ugu the Shoemaker, and
Cayke's determination to go to the magician filled her companion with
misgivings.  But he would not break his pledged word to assist the
Cookie Cook, and after breathing a deep sigh of resignation, he asked
the King, "Will Your Majesty lend us this Pink Bear who answers
questions that we may take him with us on our journey?  He would be
very useful to us, and we will promise to bring him safely back to
you."

The King did not reply at once.  He seemed to be thinking.

"PLEASE let us take the Pink Bear," begged Cayke.  "I'm sure he would
be a great help to us."

"The Pink Bear," said the King, "is the best bit of magic I possess,
and there is not another like him in the world.  I do not care to let
him out of my sight, nor do I wish to disappoint you; so I believe I
will make the journey in your company and carry my Pink Bear with me.
He can walk when you wind the other side of him, but so slowly and
awkwardly that he would delay you.  But if I go along, I can carry him
in my arms, so I will join your party.  Whenever you are ready to
start, let me know."

"But Your Majesty!" exclaimed Corporal Waddle in protest, "I hope you
do not intend to let these prisoners escape without punishment."

"Of what crime do you accuse them?" inquired the King.

"Why, they trespassed on your domain, for one thing," said the Brown
Bear.

"We didn't know it was private property, Your Majesty," said the
Cookie Cook. "And they asked if any of us had stolen the dishpan!"
continued Corporal Waddle indignantly.  "That is the same thing as calling us
thieves and robbers and bandits and brigands, is it not?"

"Every person has the right to ask questions," said the Frogman.

"But the Corporal is quite correct," declared the Lavender Bear.  "I
condemn you both to death, the execution to take place ten years from
this hour."

"But we belong in the Land of Oz, where no one ever dies," Cayke
reminded him.

"Very true," said the King.  "I condemn you to death merely as a
matter of form.  It sounds quite terrible, and in ten years we shall
have forgotten all about it.  Are you ready to start for the wicker
castle of Ugu the Shoemaker?"

"Quite ready, Your Majesty."

"But who will rule in your place while you are gone?" asked a big
Yellow Bear.

"I myself will rule while I am gone," was the reply.

"A King isn't required to stay at home forever, and if he takes a notion 
to travel, whose business is it but his own?  All I ask is that you bears 
behave yourselves while I am away.  If any of you is naughty, I'll send him
to some girl or boy in America to play with."

This dreadful threat made all the toy bears look solemn.  They assured
the King in a chorus of growls that they would be good.  Then the big
Lavender Bear picked up the little Pink Bear, and after tucking it
carefully under one arm, he said, "Goodbye till I come back!" and
waddled along the path that led through the forest.  The Frogman and
Cayke the Cookie Cook also said goodbye to the bears and then followed
after the King, much to the regret of the little Brown Bear, who
pulled the trigger of his gun and popped the cork as a parting salute.


CHAPTER 17


THE MEETING

While the Frogman and his party were advancing from the west, Dorothy
and her party were advancing from the east, and so it happened that on
the following night they all camped at a little hill that was only a
few miles from the wicker castle of Ugu the Shoemaker.
But the two parties did not see one another that night, for one 
camped on one side of the hill while the other camped on the opposite 
side.  But the next morning, the Frogman thought he would climb the 
hill and see what was on top of it, and at the same time Scraps, the 
Patchwork Girl, also decided to climb the hill to find if the wicker 
castle was visible from its top.  So she stuck her head over an edge just as the
Frogman's head appeared over another edge, and both, being surprised,
kept still while they took a good look at one another.

Scraps recovered from her astonishment first, and bounding upward, she
turned a somersault and landed sitting down and facing the big
Frogman, who slowly advanced and sat opposite her.  "Well met,
Stranger!" cried the Patchwork Girl with a whoop of laughter.  "You
are quite the funniest individual I have seen in all my travels."

"Do you suppose I can be any funnier than you?" asked the Frogman,
gazing at her in wonder.

"I'm not funny to myself, you know," returned Scraps.  "I wish I were.
And perhaps you are so used to your own absurd shape that you do not
laugh whenever you see your reflection in a pool or in a mirror."

"No," said the Frogman gravely, "I do not.  I used to be proud of my
great size and vain of my culture and education, but since I bathed in
the Truth Pond, I sometimes think it is not right that I should be
different from all other frogs."

"Right or wrong," said the Patchwork Girl, "to be different is to be
distinguished.  Now in my case, I'm just like all other Patchwork
Girls because I'm the only one there is.  But tell me, where did you
come from?"

"The Yip Country," said he.

"Is that in the Land of Oz?"

"Of course," replied the Frogman.

"And do you know that your Ruler, Ozma of Oz, has been stolen?"

"I was not aware that I had a Ruler, so of course I couldn't know that
she was stolen."

"Well, you have. All the people of Oz," explained Scraps, "are ruled
by Ozma, whether they know it or not.  And she has been stolen. 
Aren't you angry?  Aren't you indignant?  Your Ruler, whom you didn't
know you had, has positively been stolen!"

"That is queer," remarked the Frogman thoughtfully.
"Stealing is a thing practically unknown in Oz, yet this Ozma has 
been taken, and a friend of mine has also had her dishpan stolen.  
With her I have traveled all the way from the Yip Country in order to 
recover it."

"I don't see any connection between a Royal Ruler of Oz and a
dishpan!" declared Scraps.

"They've both been stolen, haven't they?"

"True.  But why can't your friend wash her dishes in another dishpan?"
asked Scraps.

"Why can't you use another Royal Ruler?  I suppose you prefer the one
who is lost, and my friend wants her own dishpan, which is made of
gold and studded with diamonds and has magic powers."

"Magic, eh?" exclaimed Scraps. "THERE is a link that connects the two
steals, anyhow, for it seems that all the magic in the Land of Oz was
stolen at the same time, whether it was in the Emerald City of in
Glinda's castle or in the Yip Country.  Seems mighty strange and
mysterious, doesn't it?"

"It used to seem that way to me," admitted the Frogman, "but we have
now discovered who took our dishpan.  It was Ugu the Shoemaker."

"Ugu?  Good gracious!  That's the same magician we think has stolen
Ozma.  We are now on our way to the castle of this Shoemaker."

"So are we," said the Frogman.

"Then follow me, quick!  And let me introduce you to Dorothy and the
other girls and to the Wizard of Oz and all the rest of us."

She sprang up and seized his coatsleeve, dragging him off the hilltop
and down the other side from that whence he had come.  And at the foot
of the hill, the Frogman was astonished to find the three girls and
the Wizard and Button-Bright, who were surrounded by a wooden
Sawhorse, a lean Mule, a square Woozy, and a Cowardly Lion.  A little
black dog ran up and smelled at the Frogman, but couldn't growl at
him.

"I've discovered another party that has been robbed," shouted Scraps
as she joined them.  "This is their leader, and they're all going to
Ugu's castle to fight the wicked Shoemaker!"

They regarded the Frogman with much curiosity and interest, and
finding all eyes fixed upon him, the newcomer arranged his necktie and
smoothed his beautiful vest and swung his gold-headed cane like a
regular dandy.  The big spectacles over his eyes quite altered his
froglike countenance and gave him a learned and impressive look.  Used
as she was to seeing strange creatures in the Land of Oz, Dorothy was
amazed at discovering the Frogman.  So were all her companions.
Toto wanted to growl at him, but couldn't, and he didn't dare bark.  The
Sawhorse snorted rather contemptuously, but the Lion whispered to the
wooden steed, "Bear with this strange creature, my friend, and
remember he is no more extraordinary than you are.
Indeed, it is more natural for a frog to be big than for a Sawhorse to be alive."

On being questioned, the Frogman told them the whole story of the loss
of Cayke's highly prized dishpan and their adventures in search of it.
When he came to tell of the Lavender Bear King and of the Little Pink
Bear who could tell anything you wanted to know, his hearers became
eager to see such interesting animals.  "It will be best," said the
Wizard, "to unite our two parties and share our fortunes together, for
we are all bound on the same errand, and as one band we may more
easily defy this shoemaker magician than if separate.
Let us be allies."

"I will ask my friends about that," replied the Frogman, and he
climbed over the hill to find Cayke and the toy bears.  The Patchwork
Girl accompanied him, and when they came upon the Cookie Cook and the
Lavender Bear and the Pink Bear, it was hard to tell which of the lot
was the most surprised.

"Mercy me!" cried Cayke, addressing the Patchwork Girl.  "However did
you come alive?"

Scraps stared at the bears.

"Mercy me!" she echoed, "You are stuffed,
as I am, with cotton, and you appear to be living.  That makes me feel
ashamed, for I have prided myself on being the only live
cotton-stuffed person in Oz."

"Perhaps you are," returned the Lavender Bear, "for I am stuffed with
extra-quality curled hair, and so is the Little Pink Bear."

"You have relieved my mind of a great anxiety," declared the Patchwork
Girl, now speaking more cheerfully.  "The Scarecrow is stuffed with
straw and you with hair, so I am still the Original and Only
Cotton-Stuffed!"

"I hope I am too polite to criticize cotton as compared with curled
hair," said the King, "especially as you seem satisfied with it."

Then the Frogman told of his interview with the party from the Emerald
City and added that the Wizard of Oz had invited the bears and Cayke
and himself to travel in company with them to the castle of Ugu the
Shoemaker.  Cayke was much pleased, but the Bear King looked solemn.
He set the Little Pink Bear on his lap and turned the crank in its
side and asked, "Is it safe for us to associate with those people from
the Emerald City?"

And the Pink Bear at once replied, "Safe for you and safe for me;
Perhaps no others safe will be."

"That 'perhaps' need not worry us," said the King, "so let us join the
others and offer them our protection."

Even the Lavender Bear was astonished, however, when on climbing over
the hill he found on the other side the group of queer animals and the
people from the Emerald City.  The bears and Cayke were received very
cordially, although Button-Bright was cross when they wouldn't let him
play with the Little Pink Bear.  The three girls greatly admired the
toy bears, and especially the pink one, which they longed to hold.

"You see," explained the Lavender King in denying them this privilege,
"he's a very valuable bear, because his magic is a correct guide on
all occasions, and especially if one is in difficulties.  It was the
Pink Bear who told us that Ugu the Shoemaker had stolen the Cookie
Cook's dishpan."

"And the King's magic is just as wonderful," added Cayke, "because it
showed us the Magician himself."

"What did he look like?" inquired Dorothy.

"He was dreadful!"

"He was sitting at a table and examining an immense Book which had
three golden clasps," remarked the King.

"Why, that must have been Glinda's Great Book of Records!" exclaimed
Dorothy.  "If it is, it proves that Ugu the Shoemaker stole Ozma, and
with her all the magic in the Emerald City."

"And my dishpan," said Cayke.

And the Wizard added, "It also proves that he is following our
adventures in the Book of Records, and therefore knows that we are
seeking him and that we are determined to find him and reach Ozma at
all hazards."

"If we can," added the Woozy, but everybody frowned at him.

The Wizard's statement was so true that the faces around him were very
serious until the Patchwork Girl broke into a peal of laughter.
"Wouldn't it be a rich joke if he made prisoners of us, too?" she
said.

"No one but a crazy Patchwork Girl would consider that a joke,"
grumbled Button-Bright.

And then the Lavender Bear King asked, "Would you like to see this
magical shoemaker?"

"Wouldn't he know it?"   Dorothy inquired.

"No, I think not."

Then the King waved his metal wand and before them appeared a room in
the wicker castle of Ugu.  On the wall of the room hung Ozma's Magic
Picture, and seated before it was the Magician.  They could see the
Picture as well as he could, because it faced them, and in the Picture
was the hillside where they were not sitting, all their forms being
reproduced in miniature.  And curiously enough, within the scene of
the Picture was the scene they were now beholding, so they knew that
the Magician was at this moment watching them in the Picture, and also
that he saw himself and the room he was in become visible to the
people on the hillside.  Therefore he knew very well that they were
watching him while he was watching them.

In proof of this, Ugu sprang from his seat and turned a scowling face
in their direction; but now he could not see the travelers who were
seeking him, although they could still see him.  His actions were so
distinct, indeed, that it seemed he was actually before them.  "It is
only a ghost," said the Bear King.  "It isn't real at all except that
it shows us Ugu just as he looks and tells us truly just what he is
doing."

"I don't see anything of my lost growl, though," said Toto as if to
himself.

Then the vision faded away, and they could see nothing but the grass
and trees and bushes around them.


CHAPTER 18

THE CONFERENCE

"Now then," said the Wizard, "let us talk this matter over and decide
what to do when we get to Ugu's wicker castle.  There can be no doubt
that the Shoemaker is a powerful Magician, and his powers have been
increased a hundredfold since he secured the Great Book of Records,
the Magic Picture, all of Glinda's recipes for sorcery, and my own
black bag, which was full of tools of wizardry.  The man who could rob
us of those things and the man with all their powers at his command is
one who may prove somewhat difficult to conquer, therefore we should
plan our actions well before we venture too near to his castle."

"I didn't see Ozma in the Magic Picture," said Trot.
"What do you suppose Ugu has done with her?"

"Couldn't the Little Pink Bear tell us what he did with Ozma?" asked
Button-Bright.

"To be sure," replied the Lavender King.  "I'll ask him."  So he
turned the crank in the Little Pink Bear's side and inquired, "Did Ugu
the Shoemaker steal Ozma of Oz?"

"Yes," answered the Little Pink Bear.

"Then what did he do with her?" asked the King.

"Shut her up in a dark place," answered the Little Pink Bear.

"Oh, that must be a dungeon cell!" cried Dorothy, horrified.  "How
dreadful!"

"Well, we must get her out of it," said the Wizard.
"That is what we came for, and of course we must rescue Ozma.  But how?"

Each one looked at some other one for an answer, and all shook their
heads in a grave and dismal manner.  All but Scraps, who danced around
them gleefully.  "You're afraid," said the Patchwork Girl, "because so
many things can hurt your meat bodies. Why don't you give it up and
go home?  How can you fight a great magician when you have nothing to
fight with?"

Dorothy looked at her reflectively.

"Scraps," said she, "you know that Ugu couldn't hurt you a 
bit, whatever he did, nor could he hurt ME, 'cause I wear the 
Gnome King's Magic Belt.  S'pose just we two go on together 
and leave the others here to wait for us."

"No, no!" said the Wizard positively. "That won't do at all.  Ozma is
more powerful than either of you, yet she could not defeat the wicked
Ugu, who has shut her up in a dungeon.  We must go to the Shoemaker in
one mighty band, for only in union is there strength."

"That is excellent advice," said the Lavender Bear approvingly.

"But what can we do when we get to Ugu?" inquired the Cookie Cook
anxiously.

"Do not expect a prompt answer to that important question," replied
the Wizard, "for we must first plan our line of conduct.  Ugu knows,
of course, that we are after him, for he has seen our approach in the
Magic Picture, and he has read of all we have done up to the present
moment in the Great Book of Records.  Therefore we cannot expect to
take him by surprise."

"Don't you suppose Ugu would listen to reason?" asked Betsy.  "If we
explained to him how wicked he has been, don't you think he'd let poor
Ozma go?"

"And give me back my dishpan?" added the Cookie Cook eagerly.

"Yes, yes, won't he say he's sorry and get on his knees and beg our
pardon?" cried Scraps, turning a flip-flop to show her scorn of the
suggestion.  "When Ugu the Shoemaker does that, please knock at the
front door and let me know."

The Wizard sighed and rubbed his bald head with a puzzled air.  "I'm
quite sure Ugu will not be polite to us," said he, "so we must conquer
this cruel magician by force, much as we dislike to be rude to anyone.
But none of you has yet suggested a way to do that.  Couldn't the
Little Pink Bear tell us how?" he asked, turning to the Bear King.

"No, for that is something that is GOING to happen," replied the
Lavender Bear.  "He can only tell us what already HAS happened."

Again, they were grave and thoughtful.  But after a time, Betsy said
in a hesitating voice, "Hank is a great fighter.  Perhaps HE could
conquer the magician."

The Mule turned his head to look reproachfully at his old friend, the
young girl.  "Who can fight against magic?" he asked.

"The Cowardly Lion could," said Dorothy.

The Lion, who was lying with his front legs spread out, his chin on
his paws, raised his shaggy head.  "I can fight when I'm not afraid,"
said he calmly, "but the mere mention of a fight sets me to
trembling."

"Ugu's magic couldn't hurt the Sawhorse," suggested tiny Trot.

"And the Sawhorse couldn't hurt the Magician," declared that wooden
animal.

"For my part," said Toto, "I am helpless, having lost my growl."

"Then," said Cayke the Cookie Cook, "we must depend upon the Frogman.
His marvelous wisdom will surely inform him how to conquer the wicked
Magician and restore to me my dishpan."

All eyes were now turned questioningly upon the Frogman.  Finding
himself the center of observation, he swung his gold-headed cane,
adjusted his big spectacles, and after swelling out his chest, sighed
and said in a modest tone of voice, "Respect for truth obliges me to
confess that Cayke is mistaken in regard to my superior wisdom.  I am
not very wise.  Neither have I had any practical experience in
conquering magicians.  But let us consider this case.
What is Ugu, and what is a magician?  Ugu is a renegade shoemaker, 
and a magician is an ordinary man who, having learned how to do 
magical tricks, considers himself above his fellows.  In this case, the 
Shoemaker has been naughty enough to steal a lot of magical tools and 
things that did not belong to him, and he is more wicked to steal than 
to be a magician.  Yet with all the arts at his command, Ugu is still 
a man, and surely there are ways in which a man may be conquered.  
How, do you say, how?  Allow me to state that I don't know.
 In my judgment, we cannot decide how best to act until we 
get to Ugu's castle.  So let us go to it and take a look at it.  
After that, we may discover an idea that will guide us to victory."

"That may not be a wise speech, but it sounds good," said Dorothy
approvingly.  "Ugu the Shoemaker is not only a common man, but he's a
wicked man and a cruel man and deserves to be conquered.  We musn't
have any mercy on him till Ozma is set free.  So let's go to his
castle as the Frogman says and see what the place looks like."

No one offered any objection to this plan, and so it was adopted.
They broke camp and were about to start on the journey to Ugu's castle
when they discovered that Button-Bright was lost again.  The girls and
the Wizard shouted his name, and the Lion roared and the Donkey brayed
and the Frogman croaked and the Big Lavender Bear growled (to the envy
of Toto, who couldn't growl but barked his loudest), yet none of them
could make Button-Bright hear.  So after vainly searching for the boy
a full hour, they formed a procession and proceeded in the direction
of the wicker castle of Ugu the Shoemaker.

"Button-Bright's always getting lost," said Dorothy.
"And if he wasn't always getting found again, I'd prob'ly worry.  He may have
gone ahead of us, and he may have gone back, but wherever he is, we'll
find him sometime and somewhere, I'm almost sure."



CHAPTER 19

UGU THE SHOEMAKER

A curious thing about Ugu the Shoemaker was that he didn't suspect in
the least that he was wicked.  He wanted to be powerful and great, and
he hoped to make himself master of all the Land of Oz that he might
compel everyone in that fairy country to obey him, His ambition
blinded him to the rights of others, and he imagined anyone else would
act just as he did if anyone else happened to be as clever as himself.

When he inhabited his little shoemaking shop in the City of Herku, he
had been discontented, for a shoemaker is not looked upon with high
respect, and Ugu knew that his ancestors had been famous magicians for
many centuries past and therefore his family was above the ordinary.
Even his father practiced magic when Ugu was a boy, but his father had
wandered away from Herku and had never come back again.  So when Ugu
grew up, he was forced to make shoes for a living, knowing nothing of
the magic of his forefathers. But one day, in searching through the 
attic of his house, he  discovered all the books of magical recipes and 
many magical instruments which had formerly been in use in his family.
From that day, he stopped making shoes and began to study magic.
Finally, he aspired to become the greatest magician in Oz, and for
days and weeks and months he thought on a plan to render all the other
sorcerers and wizards, as well as those with fairy powers, helpless to
oppose him.

From the books of his ancestors, he learned the following facts:

 (1) That Ozma of Oz was the fairy ruler of the Emerald City and the
Land of Oz and that she could not be destroyed by any magic ever
devised.  Also, by means of her Magic Picture she would be able to
discover anyone who approached her royal palace with the idea of
conquering it.

(2) That Glinda the Good was the most powerful Sorceress in Oz, among her other magical
possessions being the Great Book of Records, which
told her all that happened anywhere in the world.  This Book of
Records was very dangerous to Ugu's plans, and Glinda was in the
service of Ozma and would use her arts of sorcery to protect the girl
Ruler.

(3) That the Wizard of Oz, who lived in Ozma's palace, had been taught
much powerful magic by Glinda and had a bag of magic tools with which
he might be able to conquer the Shoemaker.

(4) That there existed in Oz--in the Yip Country--a jeweled dishpan
made of gold, which dishpan would grow large enough for a man to sit
inside it.  Then, when he grasped both the golden handles, the dishpan
would transport him in an instant to any place he wished to go within
the borders of the Land of Oz.

No one now living except Ugu knew of the powers of the Magic Dishpan,
so after long study, the shoemaker decided that if he could manage to
secure the dishpan, he could by its means rob Ozma and Glinda and the
Wizard of Oz of all their magic, thus becoming himself the most
powerful person in all the land.  His first act was to go away from
the City of Herku and build for himself the Wicker Castle in the
hills.  Here he carried his books and instruments of magic, and here
for a full year he diligently practiced all the magical arts learned
from his ancestors.  At the end of that time, he could do a good many
wonderful things.

Then, when all his preparations were made, he set out for the Yip
Country, and climbing the steep mountain at night he entered the house
of Cayke the Cookie Cook and stole her diamond-studded gold dishpan
while all the Yips were asleep, Taking his prize outside, he set the
pan upon the ground and uttered the required magic word.  Instantly,
the dishpan grew as large as a big washtub, and Ugu seated himself in
it and grasped the two handles.  Then he wished himself in the great
drawing room of Glinda the Good.

He was there in a flash.  First he took the Great Book of Records and
put it in the dishpan.  Then he went to Glinda's laboratory and took
all her rare chemical compounds and her instruments of sorcery,
placing these also in the dishpan, which he caused to grow large
enough to hold them.  Next he seated himself amongst the treasures he
had stolen and wished himself in the room in Ozma's palace which the
Wizard occupied and where he kept his bag of magic tools.  This bag
Ugu added to his plunder and then wished himself in the apartments of
Ozma.

Here he first took the Magic Picture from the wall and then seized all
the other magical things which Ozma possessed.  Having placed these in
the dishpan, he was about to climb in himself when he looked up and
saw Ozma standing beside him.  Her fairy instinct had warned her that
danger was threatening her, so the beautiful girl Ruler rose from her
couch and leaving her bedchamber at once confronted the thief.

Ugu had to think quickly, for he realized that if he permitted Ozma to
rouse the inmates of her palace, all his plans and his present
successes were likely to come to naught.  So he threw a scarf over the
girl's head so she could not scream, and pushed her into the dishpan
and tied her fast so she could not move.  Then he climbed in beside
her and wished himself in his own wicker castle.  The Magic Dishpan
was there in an instant, with all its contents, and Ugu rubbed his
hands together in triumphant joy as he realized that he now possessed
all the important magic in the Land of Oz and could force all the
inhabitants of that fairyland to do as he willed.

So quickly had his journey been accomplished that before daylight the
robber magician had locked Ozma in a room, making her a prisoner, and
had unpacked and arranged all his stolen goods.  The next day he
placed the Book of Records on his table and hung the Magic Picture on
his wall and put away in his cupboards and drawers all the elixirs and
magic compounds he had stolen.  The magical instruments he polished
and arranged, and this was fascinating work and made him very happy.

By turns the imprisoned Ruler wept and scolded the Shoemaker, 
haughtily threatening him with dire punishment for the wicked deeds 
he had done.  Ugu became somewhat afraid of his fairy prisoner, in 
spite of the fact that he believed he had robbed her of all her powers; 
so he performed an enchantment that quickly disposed of her and placed 
her out of his sight and hearing. After that, being occupied with other 
things, he soon forgot her.

But now, when he looked into the Magic Picture and read the Great Book
of Records, the Shoemaker learned that his wickedness was not to go
unchallenged.  Two important expeditions had set out to find him and
force him to give up his stolen property.  One was the party headed by
the Wizard and Dorothy, while the other consisted of Cayke and the
Frogman.  Others were also searching, but not in the right places.
These two groups, however, were headed straight for the wicker castle,
and so Ugu began to plan how best to meet them and to defeat their
efforts to conquer him.



CHAPTER 20

MORE SURPRISES

All that first day after the union of the two parties, our friends
marched steadily toward the wicker castle of Ugu the Shoemaker.  When
night came, they camped in a little grove and passed a pleasant
evening together, although some of them were worried because
Button-Bright was still lost.

"Perhaps," said Toto as the animals lay grouped together for the
night, "this Shoemaker who stole my growl and who stole Ozma has also
stolen Button-Bright."

"How do you know that the Shoemaker stole your growl?" demanded the
Woozy.

"He has stolen about everything else of value in Oz, hasn't he?"
replied the dog.

"He has stolen everything he wants, perhaps," agreed the Lion, "but
what could anyone want with your growl?"

"Well," said the dog, wagging his tail slowly, "my recollection is
that it was a wonderful growl, soft and low and--and--"

"And ragged at the edges," said the Sawhorse.

"So," continued Toto, "if that magician hadn't any growl of his own,
he might have wanted mine and stolen it."

"And if he has, he will soon wish he hadn't," remarked the Mule.
"Also, if he has stolen Button-Bright, he will be sorry."

"Don't you like Button-Bright, then?" asked the Lion in surprise.

"It isn't a question of liking him," replied the Mule.  "It's a
question of watching him and looking after him.  Any boy who causes
his friends so much worry isn't worth having around. I never get
lost."

"If you did," said Toto, "no one would worry a bit.  I think
Button-Bright is a very lucky boy because he always gets found."

"See here," said the Lion, "this chatter is keeping us all awake, and
tomorrow is likely to be a busy day.  Go to sleep and forget your
quarrels."

"Friend Lion," retorted the dog, "if I hadn't lost my growl, you would
hear it now.  I have as much right to talk as you have to sleep."

The Lion sighed.

"If only you had lost your voice when you lost your
growl," said he, "you would be a more agreeable companion."

But they quieted down after that, and soon the entire camp was wrapped
in slumber.  Next morning they made an early start, but had hardly
proceeded on their way an hour when, on climbing a slight elevation,
they beheld in the distance a low mountain on top of which stood Ugu's
wicker castle.  It was a good-sized building and rather pretty because
the sides, roofs and domes were all of wicker, closely woven as it is
in fine baskets.

"I wonder if it is strong?"said Dorothy musingly as she eyed the
queer castle.

"I suppose it is, since a magician built it," answered the Wizard.
"With magic to protect it, even a paper castle might be as strong as
if made of stone.  This Ugu must be a man of ideas, because he does
things in a different way from other people."

"Yes.  No one else would steal our dear Ozma," sighed tiny Trot.

"I wonder if Ozma is there?" said Betsy, indicating the castle with a
nod of her head.

"Where else could she be?" asked Scraps.

"Suppose we ask the Pink Bear," suggested Dorothy.

That seemed a good idea, so they halted the procession, and the Bear
King held the little Pink Bear on his lap and turned the crank in its
side and asked, "Where is Ozma of Oz?"

And the little Pink Bear answered, "She is in a hole in the ground a
half mile away at your left."

"Good gracious!" cried Dorothy.

"Then she is not in Ugu's castle at all."

"It is lucky we asked that question," said the Wizard, "for if we can
find Ozma and rescue her, there will be no need for us to fight that
wicked and dangerous magician."

"Indeed!" said Cayke.   "Then what about my dishpan?"

The Wizard looked puzzled at her tone of remonstrance, so she added,
"Didn't you people from the Emerald City promise that we would all
stick together, and that you would help me to get my dishpan if I
would help you to get your Ozma?  And didn't I bring to you the little
Pink Bear, which has told you where Ozma is hidden?"

"She's right," said Dorothy to the Wizard.

"We must do as we agreed."

"Well, first of all, let us go and rescue Ozma," proposed the Wizard.
"Then our beloved Ruler may be able to advise us how to conquer Ugu
the Shoemaker."  So they turned to the left and marched for half a
mile until they came to a small but deep hole in the ground.  At once,
all rushed to the brim to peer into the hole, but instead of finding
there Princess Ozma of Oz, all that they saw was Button-Bright, who
was lying asleep on the bottom.

Their cries soon wakened the boy, who sat up and rubbed his eyes.
When he recognized his friends, he smiled sweetly, saying, "Found
again!"

"Where is Ozma?" inquired Dorothy anxiously.

"I don't know," answered Button-Bright from the depths of the hole.
"I got lost yesterday, as you may remember, and in the night while I
was wandering around in the moonlight trying to find my way back to
you, I suddenly fell into this hole."

"And wasn't Ozma in it then?"

"There was no one in it but me, and I was sorry it wasn't entirely
empty.  The sides are so steep I can't climb out, so there was nothing
to be done but sleep until someone found me.  Thank you for coming.
If you'll please let down a rope, I'll empty this hole in a hurry."

"How strange!" said Dorothy, greatly disappointed.

"It's evident the Pink Bear didn't tell the truth."

"He never makes a mistake," declared the Lavender Bear King in a tone
that showed his feelings were hurt.  And then he turned the crank of
the little Pink Bear again and asked, "Is this the hole that Ozma of
Oz is in?"

"Yes," answered the Pink Bear.

"That settles it," said the King positively.  "Your Ozma is in this
hole in the ground."

"Don't be silly," returned Dorothy impatiently. "Even your beady eyes
can see there is no one in the hole but Button-Bright."

"Perhaps Button-Bright is Ozma," suggested the King.

"And perhaps he isn't!

Ozma is a girl, and Button-Bright is a boy."

"Your Pink Bear must be out of order," said the Wizard, "for, this
time at least, his machinery has caused him to make an untrue
statement."

The Bear King was so angry at this remark that he turned away, holding
the Pink Bear in his paws, and refused to discuss the matter in any
further way.

"At any rate," said the Frogman, "the Pink Bear has led us to your boy
friend and so enabled you to rescue him."

Scraps was leaning so far over the hole trying to find Ozma in it that
suddenly she lost her balance and pitched in head foremost.  She fell
upon Button-Bright and tumbled him over, but he was not hurt by her
soft, stuffed body and only laughed at the mishap.  The Wizard buckled
some straps together and let one end of them down into the hole, and
soon both Scraps and the boy had climbed up and were standing safely
beside the others.  They looked once more for Ozma, but the hole was
now absolutely vacant.  It was a round hole, so from the top they
could plainly see every part of it.  Before they left the place,
Dorothy went to the Bear King and said, "I'm sorry we couldn't believe
what the little Pink Bear said, 'cause we don't want to make you feel
bad by doubting him.  There must be a mistake, somewhere, and we
prob'ly don't understand just what the little Pink Bear said.  Will
you let me ask him one more question?"

The Lavender Bear King was a good-natured bear, considering how he was
made and stuffed and jointed, so he accepted Dorothy's apology and
turned the crank and allowed the little girl to question his wee Pink
Bear.

"Is Ozma REALLY in this hole?" asked Dorothy.

"No," said the little Pink Bear.

This surprised everybody.  Even the Bear King was now 
puzzled by the contradictory statements of his oracle.

"Where IS she?" asked the King.

"Here, among you," answered the little Pink Bear.

"Well," said Dorothy, "this beats me entirely!  I guess the little
Pink Bear has gone crazy."

"Perhaps," called Scraps, who was rapidly turning "cartwheels" all
around the perplexed group, "Ozma is invisible."

"Of course!" cried Betsy. That would account for it."

"Well, I've noticed that people can speak, even when they've been made
invisible," said the Wizard.  And then he looked all around him and
said in a solemn voice, "Ozma, are you here?"

There was no reply. Dorothy asked the question, too, and so did
Button-Bright and Trot and Betsy, but none received any reply at all.

"It's strange, it's terrible strange!" muttered Cayke the Cookie Cook.
"I was sure that the little Pink Bear always tells the truth."

"I still believe in his honesty," said the Frogman, and this tribute
so pleased the Bear King that he gave these last speakers grateful
looks, but still gazed sourly on the others.

"Come to think of it," remarked the Wizard, "Ozma couldn't be
invisible, for she is a fairy, and fairies cannot be made invisible
against their will.  Of course, she could be imprisoned by the
magician or enchanted or transformed, in spite of her fairy powers,
but Ugu could not render her invisible by any magic at his command."

"I wonder if she's been transformed into Button-Bright?" said Dorothy
nervously.  Then she looked steadily at the boy and asked, "Are you
Ozma?  Tell me truly!"

Button-Bright laughed.

"You're getting rattled, Dorothy," he replied.
"Nothing ever enchants ME.  If I were Ozma, do you think I'd have
tumbled into that hole?"

"Anyhow," said the Wizard, "Ozma would never try to deceive her
friends or prevent them from recognizing her in whatever form she
happened to be.  The puzzle is still a puzzle, so let us go on to the
wicker castle and question the magician himself.  Since it was he who
stole our Ozma, Ugu is the one who must tell us where to find her."




CHAPTER 21

MAGIC AGAINST MAGIC

The Wizard's advice was good, so again they started in the direction
of the low mountain on the crest of which the wicker castle had been
built.  They had been gradually advancing uphill, so now the elevation
seemed to them more like a round knoll than a mountaintop.  However,
the sides of the knoll were sloping and covered with green grass, so
there was a stiff climb before them yet.  Undaunted, they plodded on
and had almost reached the knoll when they suddenly observed that it
was surrounded by a circle of flame.  At first, the flames barely rose
above the ground, but presently they grew higher and higher until a
circle of flaming tongues of fire taller than any of their heads quite
surrounded the hill on which the wicker castle stood.  When they
approached the flames, the heat was so intense that it drove them back
again.

"This will never do for me!" exclaimed the Patchwork Girl.  "I catch
fire very easily."

"It won't do for me either," grumbled the Sawhorse, prancing to the
rear.

"I also strongly object to fire," said the Bear King, following the
Sawhorse to a safe distance and hugging the little Pink Bear with his
paws.

"I suppose the foolish Shoemaker imagines these blazes will stop us,"
remarked the Wizard with a smile of scorn for Ugu.  "But I am able to
inform you that this is merely a simple magic trick which the robber
stole from Glinda the Good, and by good fortune I know how to destroy
these flames as well as how to produce them.  Will some one of you
kindly give me a match?"

You may be sure the girls carried no matches, nor did the Frogman or
any of the animals.  But Button-Bright, after searching carefully
through his pockets, which contained all sorts of useful and useless
things, finally produced a match and handed it to the Wizard, who tied
it to the end of a branch which he tore from a small tree growing near
them.  Then the little Wizard carefully lighted the match, and running
forward thrust it into the nearest flame.  Instantly, the circle of
fire began to die away, and soon vanished completely leaving the way
clear for them to proceed.

"That was funny!" laughed Button-Bright.

"Yes," agreed the Wizard, "it seems odd that a little match could
destroy such a great circle of fire, but when Glinda invented this
trick, she believed no one would ever think of a match being a remedy
for fire.  I suppose even Ugu doesn't know how we managed to quench
the flames of his barrier, for only Glinda and I know the secret.
Glinda's Book of Magic which Ugu stole told how to make the flames,
but not how to put them out."

They now formed in marching order and proceeded to advance up the
slope of the hill, but had not gone far when before them rose a wall
of steel, the surface of which was thickly covered with sharp,
gleaming points resembling daggers.  The wall completely surrounded
the wicker castle, and its sharp points prevented anyone from climbing
it.  Even the Patchwork Girl might be ripped to pieces if she dared
attempt it.  "Ah!" exclaimed the Wizard cheerfully, "Ugu is now using
one of my own tricks against me.  But this is more serious than the
Barrier of Fire, because the only way to destroy the wall is to get on
the other side of it."

"How can that be done?" asked Dorothy.

The Wizard looked thoughtfully around his little party, and his face
grew troubled.  "It's a pretty high wall," he sadly remarked.   "I'm
pretty sure the Cowardly Lion could not leap over it."

"I'm sure of that, too!" said the Lion with a shudder of fear.  "If I
foolishly tried such a leap, I would be caught on those dreadful
spikes."

"I think I could do it, sir," said the Frogman with a bow to the
Wizard.  "It is an uphill jump as well as being a high jump, but I'm
considered something of a jumper by my friends in the Yip Country, and
I believe a good, strong leap will carry me to the other side."

"I'm sure it would," agreed the Cookie Cook.

"Leaping, you know, is a froglike accomplishment," continued the
Frogman modestly, "but please tell me what I am to do when I reach the

"You're a brave creature," said the Wizard admiringly.  "Has anyone a
pin?"

Betsy had one, which she gave him.  "All you need do," said the Wizard
to the Frogman, giving him the pin, "is to stick this into the other
side of the wall."

"But the wall is of steel!" exclaimed the big frog.

"I know.  At least, it SEEMS to be steel, but do as I tell you.  Stick
the pin into the wall, and it will disappear."

The Frogman took off his handsome coat and carefully folded it and
laid it on the grass.  Then he removed his hat and laid it together
with his gold-headed cane beside the coat.  He then went back a way
and made three powerful leaps in rapid succession.  The first two
leaps took him to the wall, and the third leap carried him well over
it, to the amazement of all.  For a short time, he disappeared from
their view, but when he had obeyed the Wizard's injunction and had
thrust the pin into the wall, the huge barrier vanished and showed
them the form of the Frogman, who now went to where his coat lay and
put it on again.

"We thank you very much," said the delighted Wizard.

"That was the most wonderful leap I ever saw, and it has saved us 
from defeat by our enemy.  Let us now hurry on to the castle before 
Ugu the Shoemaker thinks up some other means to stop us."

"We must have surprised him so far," declared Dorothy.

"Yes indeed.  The fellow knows a lot of magic--all of our tricks and
some of his own," replied the Wizard.  "So if he is half as clever as
he ought to be, we shall have trouble with him yet."

He had scarcely spoken these words when out from the gates of the
wicker castle marched a regiment of soldiers, clad in gay uniforms and
all bearing long, pointed spears and sharp battle axes.  These
soldiers were girls, and the uniforms were short skirts of yellow and
black satin, golden shoes, bands of gold across their foreheads and
necklaces of glittering jewels.  Their jackets were scarlet, braided
with silver cords.  There were hundreds of these girl-soldiers, and
they were more terrible than beautiful, being strong and fierce in
appearance.  They formed a circle all around the castle and faced
outward, their spears pointed toward the invaders, and their battle
axes held over their shoulders, ready to strike.  Of course, our
friends halted at once, for they had not expected this dreadful array
of soldiery.  The Wizard seemed puzzled, and his companions exchanged
discouraged looks.

"I'd no idea Ugu had such an army as that," said Dorothy.  "The castle
doesn't look big enough to hold them all."

"It isn't," declared the Wizard.

"But they all marched out of it."

"They seemed to, but I don't believe it is a real army at all.  If Ugu
the Shoemaker had so many people living with him, I'm sure the
Czarover of Herku would have mentioned the fact to us."

"They're only girls!" laughed Scraps.

"Girls are the fiercest soldiers of all," declared the Frogman.  "They
are more brave than men, and they have better nerves.  That is
probably why the magician uses them for soldiers and has sent them to
oppose us."

No one argued this statement, for all were staring hard at the line of
soldiers, which now, having taken a defiant position, remained
motionless.

"Here is a trick of magic new to me," admitted the Wizard after a
time.  "I do not believe the army is real, but the spears may be sharp
enough to prick us, nevertheless, so we must be cautious.  Let us take
time to consider how to meet this difficulty."

While they were thinking it over, Scraps danced closer to the line of
girl soldiers.  Her button eyes sometimes saw more than did the
natural eyes of her comrades, and so after staring hard at the
magician's army, she boldly advanced and danced right through the
threatening line! On the other side, she waved her stuffed arms and
called out, "Come on, folks.  The spears can't hurt you."
said the Wizard gaily.  "An optical illusion, as I thought.  Let
us all follow the Patchwork Girl."  The three little girls were
somewhat nervous in attempting to brave the spears and battle axes,
but after the others had safely passed the line, they ventured to
follow.  And when all had passed through the ranks of the girl army,
the army itself magically disappeared from view.

All this time our friends had been getting farther up the hill and
nearer to the wicker castle.  Now, continuing their advance, they
expected something else to oppose their way, but to their astonishment
nothing happened, and presently they arrived at the wicker gates,
which stood wide open, and boldly entered the domain of Ugu the
Shoemaker.


CHAPTER 22


No sooner were the Wizard of Oz and his followers well within the
castle entrance when the big gates swung to with a clang and heavy
bars dropped across them.  They looked at one another uneasily, but no
one cared to speak of the incident.   If they were indeed prisoners in
the wicker castle, it was evident they must find a way to escape, but
their first duty was to attend to the errand on which they had come
and seek the Royal Ozma, whom they believed to be a prisoner of the
magician, and rescue her.

They found they had entered a square courtyard, from which an entrance
led into the main building of the castle.  No person had appeared to
greet them so far, although a gaudy peacock perched upon the wall
cackled with laughter and said in its sharp, shrill voice, "Poor
fools!  Poor fools!"

"I hope the peacock is mistaken," remarked the Frogman, but no one
else paid any attention to the bird.  They were a little awed by the
stillness and loneliness of the place.  As they entered the doors of
the castle, which stood invitingly open, these also closed behind them
and huge bolts shot into place.  The animals had all accompanied the
party into the castle because they felt it would be dangerous for them
to separate.  They were forced to follow a zigzag passage, turning
this way and that, until finally they entered a great central hall,
circular in form and with a high dome from which was suspended an
enormous chandelier.

The Wizard went first, and Dorothy, Betsy and Trot followed him, Toto
keeping at the heels of his little mistress.  Then came the Lion, the
Woozy and the Sawhorse, then Cayke the Cookie Cook and Button-Bright,
then the Lavender Bear carrying the Pink Bear, and finally the Frogman
and the Patchwork Girl, with Hank the Mule tagging behind.  So it was
the Wizard who caught the first glimpse of the big, domed hall, but
the others quickly followed and gathered in a wondering group just
within the entrance.

Upon a raised platform at one side was a heavy table on which lay
Glinda's Great Book of Records, but the platform was firmly fastened
to the floor and the table was fastened to the platform and the Book
was chained fast to the table, just as it had been when it was kept in
Glinda's palace.  On the wall over the table hung Ozma's Magic
Picture.  On a row of shelves at the opposite side of the hall stood
all the chemicals and essences of magic and all the magical
instruments that had been stolen from Glinda and Ozma and the Wizard,
with glass doors covering the shelves so that no one could get at
them.

And in a far corner sat Ugu the Shoemaker, his feet lazily extended,
his skinny hands clasped behind his head.  He was leaning back at his
ease and calmly smoking a long pipe.  Around the magician was a sort
of cage, seemingly made of golden bars set wide apart, and at his
feet, also within the cage, reposed the long-sought diamond-studded
dishpan of Cayke the Cookie Cook.  Princess Ozma of Oz was nowhere to
be seen.

"Well, well," said Ugu when the invaders had stood in silence for a
moment, staring about them.  "This visit is an unexpected pleasure, I
assure you.  I knew you were coming, and I know why you are here.  You
are not welcome, for I cannot use any of you to my advantage, but as
you have insisted on coming, I hope you will make the afternoon call
as brief as possible.  It won't take long to transact your business
with me.  You will ask me for Ozma, and my reply will be that you may
find her--if you can."

"Sir," answered the Wizard in a tone of rebuke, "you are a very wicked
and cruel person.  I suppose you imagine, because you have stolen this
poor woman's dishpan and all the best magic in Oz, that you are more
powerful than we are and will be able to triumph over us."

"Yes," said Ugu the Shoemaker, slowly filling his pipe with fresh
tobacco from a silver bowl that stood beside him, "that is exactly
what I imagine.  It will do you no good to demand from me the girl who
was formerly the Ruler of Oz, because I will not tell you where I have
hidden her, and you can't guess in a thousand years.  Neither will I
restore to you any of the magic I have captured.  I am not so foolish.
But bear this in mind: I mean to be the Ruler of Oz myself, hereafter,
so I advise you to be careful how you address your future Monarch."

"Ozma is still Ruler of Oz, wherever you may have hidden her,"
declared the Wizard.  "And bear this in mind, miserable Shoemaker: we
intend to find her and to rescue her in time, but our first duty and
pleasure will be to conquer you and then punish you for your
misdeeds."

"Very well, go ahead and conquer," said Ugu.  "I'd really like to see
how you can do it."

Now although the little Wizard had spoken so boldly, he had at the
moment no idea how they might conquer the magician.  He had that
morning given the Frogman, at his request, a dose of zosozo from his
bottle, and the Frogman had promised to fight a good fight if it was
necessary, but the Wizard knew that strength alone could not avail
against magical arts.  The toy Bear King seemed to have some pretty
good magic, however, and the Wizard depended to an extent on that.
But something ought to be done right away, and the Wizard didn't know
what it was.

While he considered this perplexing question and the others stood
looking at him as their leader, a queer thing happened.  The floor of
the great circular hall on which they were standing suddenly began to
tip.  Instead of being flat and level, it became a slant, and the
slant grew steeper and steeper until none of the party could manage to
stand upon it.  Presently they all slid down to the wall, which was
now under them, and then it became evident that the whole vast room
was slowly turning upside down!  Only Ugu the Shoemaker, kept in place
by the bars of his golden cage, remained in his former position, and
the wicked magician seemed to enjoy the surprise of his victims
immensely.

First they all slid down to the wall back of them, but as the room
continued to turn over, they next slid down the wall and found
themselves at the bottom of the great dome, bumping against the big
chandelier which, like everything else, was now upside down.  The
turning movement now stopped, and the room became stationary.  Looking
far up, they saw Ugu suspended in his cage at the very top, which had
once been the floor.

"Ah," said he, grinning down at them, "the way to conquer is to act,
and he who acts promptly is sure to win.  This makes a very good
prison, from which I am sure you cannot escape.  Please amuse
yourselves in any way you like, but I must beg you to excuse me, as I
have business in another part of my castle."

Saying this, he opened a trap door in the floor of his cage (which was
now over his head) and climbed through it and disappeared from their
view.  The diamond dishpan still remained in the cage, but the bars
kept it from falling down on their heads.

"Well, I declare," said the Patchwork Girl, seizing one of the bars of
the chandelier and swinging from it, "we must peg one for the
Shoemaker, for he has trapped us very cleverly."

"Get off my foot, please," said the Lion to the Sawhorse.

"And oblige me, Mr.  Mule," remarked the Woozy, "by taking your tail
out of my left eye."

"It's rather crowded down here," explained Dorothy, "because the dome
is rounding and we have all slid into the middle of it.  But let us
keep as quiet as possible until we can think what's best to be done."

"Dear, dear!"wailed Cayke, "I wish I had my darling dishpan," and she
held her arms longingly toward it.

"I wish I had the magic on those shelves up there," sighed the Wizard.

"Don't you s'pose we could get to it?" asked Trot anxiously.

"We'd have to fly," laughed the Patchwork Girl.

But the Wizard took the suggestion seriously, and so did the Frogman.
They talked it over and soon planned an attempt to reach the shelves
where the magical instruments were.  First the Frogman lay against the
rounding dome and braced his foot on the stem of the chandelier; then
the Wizard climbed over him and lay on the dome with his feet on the
Frogman's shoulders; the Cookie Cook came next; then Button-Bright
climbed to the woman's shoulders; then Dorothy climbed up and Betsy
and Trot, and finally the Patchwork Girl, and all their lengths made a
long line that reached far up the dome, but not far enough for Scraps
to touch the shelves.

"Wait a minute.  Perhaps I can reach the magic," called the Bear King,
and began scrambling up the bodies of the others.  But when he came to
the Cookie Cook, his soft paws tickled her side so that she squirmed
and upset the whole line.  Down they came, tumbling in a heap against
the animals, and although no one was much hurt, it was a bad mix-up,
and the Frogman, who was at the bottom, almost lost his temper before
he could get on his feet again.

Cayke positively refused to try what she called "the pyramid act"
again, and as the Wizard was now convinced they could not reach the
magic tools in that manner, the attempt was abandoned.  "But SOMETHING
must be done," said the Wizard, and then he turned to the Lavender
Bear and asked, "Cannot Your Majesty's magic help us to escape from
here?"

"My magic powers are limited," was the reply. "When I was stuffed,
the fairies stood by and slyly dropped some magic into my stuffing.
Therefore I can do any of the magic that's inside me, but nothing
else.  You, however, are a wizard, and a wizard should be able to do
anything."

"Your Majesty forgets that my tools of magic have been stolen," said
the Wizard sadly, "and a wizard without tools is as helpless as a
carpenter without a hammer or saw."

"Don't give up," pleaded Button-Bright, "20'cause if we can't get
out of this queer prison, we'll all starve to death."

"Not I!" laughed the Patchwork Girl, now standing on top of the
chandelier at the place that was meant to be the bottom of it.

"Don't talk of such dreadful things," said Trot, shuddering.  "We came
here to capture the Shoemaker, didn't we?"

"Yes, and to save Ozma," said Betsy.

"And here we are, captured ourselves, and my darling dishpan up there
in plain sight!" wailed the Cookie Cook, wiping her eyes on the tail
of the Frogman's coat.

"Hush!" called the Lion with a low, deep growl.  "Give the Wizard time
to think."

"He has plenty of time," said Scraps. "What he needs is the
Scarecrow's brains."

After all, it was little Dorothy who came to their rescue, and her
ability to save them was almost as much a surprise to the girl as it
was to her friends.  Dorothy had been secretly testing the powers of
her Magic Belt, which she had once captured from the Nome King, and
experimenting with it in various ways ever since she had started on
this eventful journey.  At different times she had stolen away from
the others of her party and in solitude had tried to find out what the
Magic Belt could do and what it could not do.  There were a lot of
things it could not do, she discovered, but she learned some things
about the Belt which even her girl friends did not suspect she knew.

For one thing, she had remembered that when the Nome King owned it,
the Magic Belt used to perform transformations, and by thinking hard
she had finally recalled the way in which such transformations had
been accomplished.  Better than this, however, was the discovery that
the Magic Belt would grant its wearer one wish a day.  All she need do
was close her right eye and wiggle her left toe and then draw a long
breath and make her wish.  Yesterday she had wished in secret for a
box of caramels, and instantly found the box beside her.  Today she
had saved her daily wish in case she might need it in an emergency,
and the time had now come when she must use the wish to enable her to
escape with her friends from the prison in which Ugu had caught them.

So without telling anyone what she intended to do--for she had only
used the wish once and could not be certain how powerful the Magic
Belt might be--Dorothy closed her right eye and wiggled her left big
toe and drew a long breath and wished with all her might.  The next
moment the room began to revolve again, as slowly as before, and by
degrees they all slid to the side wall and down the wall to the
floor--all but Scraps, who was so astonished that she still clung to
the chandelier.  When the big hall was in its proper position again
and the others stood firmly upon the floor of it, they looked far up
the dome and saw the Patchwork girl swinging from the chandelier.

"Good gracious!" cried Dorothy."How ever will you get down?"

"Won't the room keep turning?" asked Scraps.

"I hope not.  I believe it has stopped for good," said Princess
Dorothy.

"Then stand from under, so you won't get hurt!" shouted the 
PatchworkGirl, and as soon as they had obeyed this request, she let go the
chandelier and came tumbling down heels over head and twisting and
turning in a very exciting manner.  Plump!  She fell on the tiled
floor, and they ran to her and rolled her and patted her into shape
again.




CHAPTER 23

THE DEFIANCE OF UGU THE SHOEMAKER

The delay caused by Scraps had prevented anyone from running to the
shelves to secure the magic instruments so badly needed.  Even Cayke
neglected to get her diamond-studded dishpan because she was watching
the Patchwork Girl.  And now the magician had opened his trap door and
appeared in his golden cage again, frowning angrily because his
prisoners had been able to turn their upside-down prison right side
up.  "Which of you has dared defy my magic?" he shouted in a terrible
voice.

"It was I," answered Dorothy calmly.

"Then I shall destroy you, for you are only an Earth girl and no
fairy," he said, and began to mumble some magic words.

Dorothy now realized that Ugu must be treated as an enemy, so she
advanced toward the corner in which he sat, saying as she went, "I am
not afraid of you, Mr.  Shoemaker, and I think you'll be sorry, pretty
soon, that you're such a bad man.  You can't destroy me, and I won't
destroy you, but I'm going to punish you for your wickedness."

Ugu laughed, a laugh that was not nice to hear, and then he waved his
hand.  Dorothy was halfway across the room when suddenly a wall of
glass rose before her and stopped her progress.  Through the glass she
could see the magician sneering at her because she was a weak little
girl, and this provoked her.  Although the glass wall obliged her to
halt, she instantly pressed both hands to her Magic Belt and cried in
a loud voice, "Ugu the Shoemaker, by the magic virtues of the Magic
Belt, I command you to become a dove!"

The magician instantly realized he was being enchanted, for he could
feel his form changing.  He struggled desperately against the
enchantment, mumbling magic words and making magic passes with his
hands.  And in one way he succeeded in defeating Dorothy's purpose,
for while his form soon changed to that of a gray dove, the dove was
of an enormous size, bigger even than Ugu had been as a man, and this
feat he had been able to accomplish before his powers of magic wholly
deserted him.

And the dove was not gentle, as doves usually are, for
Ugu was terribly enraged at the little girl's success.  His books had
told him nothing of the Nome King's Magic Belt, the Country of the
Nomes being outside the Land of Oz.  He knew, however, that he was
likely to be conquered unless he made a fierce fight, so he spread his
wings and rose in the air and flew directly toward Dorothy.  The Wall
of Glass had disappeared the instant Ugu became transformed.

Dorothy had meant to command the Belt to transform the magician into a
Dove of Peace, but in her excitement she forgot to say more than
"dove," and now Ugu was not a Dove of Peace by any means, but rather a
spiteful Dove of War. His size made his sharp beak and claws very
dangerous, but Dorothy was not afraid when he came darting toward her
with his talons outstretched and his sword-like beak open.  She knew
the Magic Belt would protect its wearer from harm.

But the Frogman did not know that fact and became alarmed at the
little girl's seeming danger.  So he gave a sudden leap and leaped
full upon the back of the great dove.  Then began a desperate
struggle.  The dove was as strong as Ugu had been, and in size it was
considerably bigger than the Frogman.  But the Frogman had eaten the
zosozo, and it had made him fully as strong as Ugu the Dove.  At the
first leap he bore the dove to the floor, but the giant bird got free
and began to bite and claw the Frogman, beating him down with its
great wings whenever he attempted to rise.  The thick, tough skin of
the big frog was not easily damaged, but Dorothy feared for her
champion, and by again using the transformation power of the Magic
Belt, she made the dove grow small until it was no larger than a
canary bird.  Ugu had not lost his knowledge of magic when he lost his
shape as a man, and he now realized it was hopeless to oppose the
power of the Magic Belt and knew that his only hope of escape lay in
instant action.  So he quickly flew into the golden jeweled dishpan he
had stolen from Cayke the Cookie Cook, and as birds can talk as well
as beasts or men in the Fairyland of Oz, he muttered the magic word
that was required and wished himself in the Country of the Quadlings,
which was as far away from the wicker castle as he believed he could
get.

Our friends did not know, of course, what Ugu was about to do.  They
saw the dishpan tremble an instant and then disappear, the dove
disappearing with it, and although they waited expectantly for some
minutes for the magician's return, Ugu did not come back again.
"Seems to me," said the Wizard in a cheerful voice, "that we have
conquered the wicked magician more quickly than we expected to."

"Don't say 'we.'  Dorothy did it!" cried the Patchwork Girl, turning
three somersaults in succession and then walking around on her hands.
"Hurrah for Dorothy!"

"I thought you said you did not know how to use the magic of the Nome
King's Belt," said the Wizard to Dorothy.

"I didn't know at that time," she replied, "but afterward I remembered
how the Nome King once used the Magic Belt to enchant people and
transform 'em into ornaments and all sorts of things, so I tried some
enchantments in secret, and after a while I transformed the Sawhorse
into a potato masher and back again, and the Cowardly Lion into a
pussycat and back again, and then I knew the thing would work all
right."

"When did you perform those enchantments?" asked the Wizard, much
surprised.

"One night when all the rest of you were asleep but Scraps, and she
had gone chasing moonbeams."

"Well," remarked the Wizard, "your discovery has certainly saved us a
lot of trouble, and we must all thank the Frogman, too, for making
such a good fight.  The dove's shape had Ugu's evil disposition inside
it, and that made the monster bird dangerous."

The Frogman was looking sad because the bird's talons had torn his
pretty clothes, but he bowed with much dignity at this well-deserved
praise.  Cayke, however, had squatted on the floor and was sobbing
bitterly.  "My precious dishpan is gone!" she wailed. "Gone, just as
I had found it again!"

"Never mind," said Trot, trying to comfort her, "it's sure to be
SOMEWHERE, so we'll cert'nly run across it some day."

"Yes indeed," added Betsy, "now that we have Ozma's Magic Picture, we
can tell just where the Dove went with your dishpan.  They all
approached the Magic Picture, and Dorothy wished it to show the
enchanted form of Ugu the Shoemaker, wherever it might be.  At once
there appeared in the frame of the Picture a scene in the far Quadling
Country, where the Dove was perched disconsolately on the limb of a
tree and the jeweled dishpan lay on the ground just underneath the
limb.

"But where is the place?  How far or how near?" asked Cayke anxiously.

"The Book of Records will tell us that," answered the Wizard.  So they
looked in the Great Book and read the following:

"Ugu the Magician, being transformed into a dove by Princess Dorothy
of Oz, has used the magic of the golden dishpan to carry him instantly
to the northeast corner of the Quadling Country."

"Don't worry, Cayke, for the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman are in that part of the country looking
for Ozma, and they'll surely find your dishpan."

"Good gracious!" exclaimed Button-Bright.  "We've forgot all about
Ozma.  Let's find out where the magician hid her."

Back to the Magic Picture they trooped, but when they wished to see
Ozma wherever she might be hidden, only a round black spot appeared in
the center of the canvas.  "I don't see how THAT can be Ozma!" said
Dorothy, much puzzled.

"It seems to be the best the Magic Picture can do, however," said the
Wizard, no less surprised.  "If it's an enchantment, looks as if the
magician had transformed Ozma into a chunk of pitch."



CHAPTER 24

THE LITTLE PINK BEAR SPEAKS TRULY

For several minutes they all stood staring at the black spot on the
canvas of the Magic Picture, wondering what it could mean.  "P'r'aps
we'd better ask the little Pink Bear about Ozma," suggested Trot.

"Pshaw!" said Button-Bright. "HE don't know anything."

"He never makes a mistake," declared the King.

"He did once, surely," said Betsy. "But perhaps he wouldn't make a
mistake again."

"He won't have the chance," grumbled the Bear King.

"We might hear what he has to say," said Dorothy.  "It won't do any
harm to ask the Pink Bear where Ozma is."

"I will not have him questioned," declared the King in a surly voice.
"I do not intend to allow my little Pink Bear to be again insulted by
your foolish doubts.  He never makes a mistake."

"Didn't he say Ozma was in that hole in the ground?"
 asked Betsy.

"He did, and I am certain she was there," replied the Lavender Bear.

Scraps laughed jeeringly, and the others saw there was no use arguing
with the stubborn Bear King, who seemed to have absolute faith in his
Pink Bear.  The Wizard, who knew that magical things can usually be
depended upon and that the little Pink Bear was able to answer
questions by some remarkable power of magic, thought it wise to
apologize to the Lavender Bear for the unbelief of his friends, at the
same time urging the King to consent to question the Pink Bear once
more.  Cayke and the Frogman also pleaded with the big Bear, who
finally agreed, although rather ungraciously, to put the little Bear's
wisdom to the test once more.  So he sat the little one on his knee
and turned the crank, and the Wizard himself asked the questions in a
very respectful tone of voice.  "Where is Ozma?" was his first query.

"Here in this room," answered the little Pink Bear.

They all looked around the room, but of course did not see her.  "In
what part of the room is she?" was the Wizard's next question.

"In Button-Bright's pocket," said the little Pink Bear.

This reply amazed them all, you may be sure, and although the three
girls smiled and Scraps yelled "Hoo-ray!" in derision, the Wizard
turned to consider the matter with grave thoughtfulness.  "In which
one of Button-Bright's pockets is Ozma?" he presently inquired.

"In the left-hand jacket pocket," said the little Pink Bear.

"The pink one has gone crazy!" exclaimed Button-Bright, staring
hard at the little bear on the big bear's knee.

"I am not so sure of that," declared the Wizard. "If Ozma proves to
be really in your pocket, then the little Pink Bear spoke truly when
he said Ozma was in that hole in the ground.  For at that time you
were also in the hole, and after we had pulled you out of it, the
little Pink Bear said Ozma was not in the hole."

"He never makes a mistake," asserted the Bear King stoutly.

"Empty that pocket, Button-Bright, and let's see what's in it,"
requested Dorothy.

So Button-Bright laid the contents of his left jacket pocket on the
table.  These proved to be a peg top, a bunch of string, a small
rubber ball and a golden peach pit.  "What's this?" asked the Wizard,
picking up the peach pit and examining it closely.

"Oh," said the boy, "I saved that to show to the girls, and then
forgot all about it.  It came out of a lonesome peach that I found in
the orchard back yonder, and which I ate while I was lost.  It looks
like gold, and I never saw a peach pit like it before."

"Nor I," said the Wizard, "and that makes it seem suspicious."

All heads were bent over the golden peach pit.  The Wizard turned it
over several times and then took out his pocket knife and pried the
pit open.  As the two halves fell apart, a pink, cloud-like haze came
pouring from the golden peach pit, almost filling the big room, and
from the haze a form took shape and settled beside them.  Then, as the
haze faded away, a sweet voice said, "Thank you, my friends!" and
there before them stood their lovely girl Ruler, Ozma of Oz.

With a cry of delight, Dorothy rushed forward and embraced her.
Scraps turned gleeful flipflops all around the room.  Button-Bright
gave a low whistle of astonishment.  The Frogman took off his tall hat
and bowed low before the beautiful girl who had been freed from her
enchantment in so startling a manner.  For a time, no sound was heard
beyond the low murmur of delight that came from the amazed group, but
presently the growl of the big Lavender Bear grew louder, and he said
in a tone of triumph, "He never makes a mistake!"



CHAPTER 25

OZMA OF OZ

"It's funny," said Toto, standing before his friend the Lion and
wagging his tail, "but I've found my growl at last!  I am positive now
that it was the cruel magician who stole it."

"Let's hear your growl," requested the Lion.

"G-r-r-r-r-r!" said Toto.

"That is fine," declared the big beast.  "It isn't as loud or as deep
as the growl of the big Lavender Bear, but it is a very respectable
growl for a small dog.  Where did you find it, Toto?"

"I was smelling in the corner yonder," said Toto, "when suddenly a
mouse ran out--and I growled."

The others were all busy congratulating Ozma, who was very happy at
being released from the confinement of the golden peach pit, where the
magician had placed her with the notion that she never could be found
or liberated.

"And only to think," cried Dorothy, "that Button-Bright has been
carrying you in his pocket all this time, and we never knew it!"

"The little Pink Bear told you," said the Bear King, "but you wouldn't
believe him."

"Never mind, my dears," said Ozma graciously, "all is well that ends
well, and you couldn't be expected to know I was inside the peach pit.
Indeed, I feared I would remain a captive much longer than I did, for
Ugu is a bold and clever magician, and he had hidden me very
securely."

"You were in a fine peach," said Button-Bright, "the best I ever ate."

"The magician was foolish to make the peach so tempting," remarked the
Wizard, "but Ozma would lend beauty to any transformation."

"How did you manage to conquer Ugu the Shoemaker?"
inquired the girl Ruler of Oz.

Dorothy started to tell the story, and Trot helped her, and
Button-Bright wanted to relate it in his own way, and the Wizard tried
to make it clear to Ozma, and Betsy had to remind them of important
things they left out, and all together there was such a chatter that
it was a wonder that Ozma understood any of it.  But she listened
patiently, with a smile on her lovely face at their eagerness, and
presently had gleaned all the details of their adventures.

Ozma thanked the Frogman very earnestly for his assistance, and she
advised Cayke the Cookie Cook to dry her weeping eyes, for she
promised to take her to the Emerald City and see that her cherished
dishpan was restored to her.  Then the beautiful Ruler took a chain of
emeralds from around her own neck and placed it around the neck of the
little Pink Bear.  

"Your wise answers to the questions of my friends,"
said she, "helped them to rescue me.   Therefore I am deeply grateful
to you and to your noble King."

The bead eyes of the little Pink Bear stared unresponsive to this
praise until the Big Lavender Bear turned the crank in its side, when
it said in its squeaky voice, "I thank Your Majesty."

"For my part," returned the Bear King, "I realize that you were well
worth saving, Miss Ozma, and so I am much pleased that we could be of
service to you.  By means of my Magic Wand I have been creating exact
images of your Emerald City and your Royal Palace, and I must confess
that they are more attractive than any places I have ever seen--not
excepting Bear Center."

"I would like to entertain you in my palace," returned Ozma sweetly,
"and you are welcome to return with me and to make me a long visit, if
your bear subjects can spare you from your own kingdom."

"As for that," answered the King, "my kingdom causes me little worry,
and I often find it somewhat tame and uninteresting.  Therefore I am
glad to accept your kind invitation.  Corporal Waddle may be trusted
to care for my bears in my absence."

"And you'll bring the little Pink Bear?" asked Dorothy eagerly.

"Of course, my dear.  I would not willingly part with him."

They remained in the wicker castle for three days, carefully packing
all the magical things that had been stolen by Ugu and also taking
whatever in the way of magic the shoemaker had inherited from his
ancestors.  "For," said Ozma, "I have forbidden any of my subjects
except Glinda the Good and the Wizard of Oz to practice magical arts,
because they cannot be trusted to do good and not harm.  Therefore Ugu
must never again be permitted to work magic of any sort."

"Well," remarked Dorothy cheerfully, "a dove can't do much in the way
of magic, anyhow, and I'm going to keep Ugu in the form of a dove
until he reforms and becomes a good and honest shoemaker."

When everything was packed and loaded on the backs of the animals,
they set out for the river, taking a more direct route than that by
which Cayke and the Frogman had come.  In this way they avoided the
Cities of Thi and Herku and Bear Center and after a pleasant journey
reached the Winkie River and found a jolly ferryman who had a fine,
big boat and was willing to carry the entire party by water to a place
quite near to the Emerald City.

The river had many windings and many branches, and the journey did not
end in a day, but finally the boat floated into a pretty lake which
was but a short distance from Ozma's home.  Here the jolly ferryman
was rewarded for his labors, and then the entire party set out in a
grand procession to march to the Emerald City.  News that the Royal
Ozma had been found spread quickly throughout the neighborhood, and
both sides of the road soon became lined with loyal subjects of the
beautiful and beloved Ruler.  Therefore Ozma's ears heard little but
cheers, and her eyes beheld little else than waving handkerchiefs and
banners during all the triumphal march from the lake to the city's
gates.

And there she met a still greater concourse, for all the inhabitants
of the Emerald City turned out to welcome her return, and all the
houses were decorated with flags and bunting, and never before were
the people so joyous and happy as at this moment when they welcomed
home their girl Ruler.  For she had been lost and was now found again,
and surely that was cause for rejoicing.  Glinda was at the royal
palace to meet the returning party, and the good Sorceress was indeed
glad to have her Great Book of Records returned to her, as well as all
the precious collection of magic instruments and elixirs and chemicals
that had been stolen from her castle.  Cap'n Bill and the Wizard at
once hung the Magic Picture upon the wall of Ozma's boudoir, and the
Wizard was so light-hearted that he did several tricks with the tools
in his black bag to amuse his companions and prove that once again he
was a powerful wizard.

For a whole week there was feasting and merriment and all sorts of
joyous festivities at the palace in honor of Ozma's safe return.  The
Lavender Bear and the little Pink Bear received much attention and
were honored by all, much to the Bear King's satisfaction.  The
Frogman speedily became a favorite at the Emerald City, and the Shaggy
Man and Tik-Tok and Jack Pumpkinhead, who had now returned from their
search, were very polite to the big frog and made him feel quite at
home.  Even the Cookie Cook, because she was quite a stranger and
Ozma's guest, was shown as much deference as if she had been a queen.

"All the same, Your Majesty," said Cayke to Ozma, day after day with
tiresome repetition, "I hope you will soon find my jeweled dishpan,
for never can I be quite happy without it."



CHAPTER 26

DOROTHY FORGIVES

The gray dove which had once been Ugu the Shoemaker sat on its tree in
the far Quadling Country and moped, chirping dismally and brooding
over its misfortunes.  After a time, the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman
came along and sat beneath the tree, paying no heed to the mutterings
of the gray dove.  The Tin Woodman took a small oilcan from his tin
pocket and carefully oiled his tin joints with it.

While he was thus engaged, the Scarecrow remarked, "I feel much better,
dear comrade, since we found that heap of nice, clean straw and you 
stuffed me anew with it."

"And I feel much better now that my joints are oiled," returned the
Tin Woodman with a sigh of pleasure.  "You and I, friend Scarecrow,
are much more easily cared for than those clumsy meat people, who
spend half their time dressing in fine clothes and who must live in
splendid dwellings in order to be contented and happy.  You and I do
not eat, and so we are spared the dreadful bother of getting three
meals a day.  Nor do we waste half our lives in sleep, a condition
that causes the meat people to lose all consciousness and become as
thoughtless and helpless as logs of wood."

"You speak truly," responded the Scarecrow, tucking some wisps of
straw into his breast with his padded fingers.  "I often feel sorry
for the meat people, many of whom are my friends.  Even the beasts are
happier than they, for they require less to make them content.  And
the birds are the luckiest creatures of all, for they can fly swiftly
where they will and find a home at any place they care to perch.
Their food consists of seeds and grains they gather from the fields,
and their drink is a sip of water from some running brook.  If I could
not be a Scarecrow or a Tin Woodman, my next choice would be to live
as a bird does."

The gray dove had listened carefully to this speech and seemed to find
comfort in it, for it hushed its moaning.  And just then the Tin
Woodman discovered Cayke's dishpan, which was on the ground quite near
to him.  "Here is a rather pretty utensil," he said, taking it in his
tin hand to examine it, "but I would not care to own it.  Whoever
fashioned it of gold and covered it with diamonds did not add to its
usefulness, nor do I consider it as beautiful as the bright dishpans
of tin one usually sees.  No yellow color is ever so handsome as the
silver sheen of tin," and he turned to look at his tin legs and body
with approval.

"I cannot quite agree with you there," replied the Scarecrow.  "My
straw stuffing has a light yellow color, and it is not only pretty to
look at, but it crunkles most delightfully when I move."

"Let us admit that all colors are good in their proper places," said
the Tin Woodman, who was too kind-hearted to quarrel, "but you must
agree with me that a dishpan that is yellow is unnatural.  What shall
we do with this one, which we have just found?"

"Let us carry it back to the Emerald City," suggested the Scarecrow.
"Some of our friends might like to have it for a foot-bath, and in
using it that way, its golden color and sparkling ornaments would not
injure its usefulness."

So they went away and took the jeweled dishpan with them.  And after
wandering through the country for a day or so longer, they learned the
news that Ozma had been found.  Therefore they straightway returned to
the Emerald City and presented the dishpan to Princess Ozma as a token
of their joy that she had been restored to them.  Ozma promptly gave
the diamond-studded gold dishpan to Cayke the Cookie Cook, who was
delighted at regaining her lost treasure that she danced up and down
in glee and then threw her skinny arms around Ozma's neck and kissed
her gratefully.  Cayke's mission was now successfully accomplished,
but she was having such a good time at the Emerald City that she
seemed in no hurry to go back to the Country of the Yips.

It was several weeks after the dishpan had been restored to the Cookie
Cook when one day, as Dorothy was seated in the royal gardens with
Trot and Betsy beside her, a gray dove came flying down and alighted
at the girl's feet.

"I am Ugu the Shoemaker," said the dove in a
soft, mourning voice, "and I have come to ask you to forgive me for
the great wrong I did in stealing Ozma and the magic that belonged to
her and to others."

"Are you sorry, then?" asked Dorothy, looking hard at the bird.

"I am VERY sorry," declared Ugu.  "I've been thinking over my misdeeds
for a long time, for doves have little else to do but think, and I'm
surprised that I was such a wicked man and had so little regard for
the rights of others.  I am now convinced that even had I succeeded in
making myself ruler of all Oz, I should not have been happy, for many
days of quiet thought have shown me that only those things one
acquires honestly are able to render one content."

"I guess that's so," said Trot.

"Anyhow," said Betsy, "the bad man seems truly sorry, and if he has
now become a good and honest man, we ought to forgive him."

"I fear I cannot become a good MAN again," said Ugu, "for the
transformation I am under will always keep me in the form of a dove.
But with the kind forgiveness of my former enemies, I hope to become a
very good dove and highly respected."

"Wait here till I run for my Magic Belt," said Dorothy, "and I'll
transform you back to your reg'lar shape in a jiffy."

"No, don't do that!" pleaded the dove, fluttering its wings in an
excited way.  "I only want your forgiveness.  I don't want to be a man
again.  As Ugu the Shoemaker I was skinny and old and unlovely.  As a
dove I am quite pretty to look at.  As a man I was ambitious and
cruel, while as a dove I can be content with my lot and happy in my
simple life.  I have learned to love the free and independent life of
a bird, and I'd rather not change back."

"Just as you like, Ugu," said Dorothy, resuming her seat.  "Perhaps
you are right, for you're certainly a better dove than you were a man,
and if you should ever backslide an' feel wicked again, you couldn't
do much harm as a gray dove."

"Then you forgive me for all the trouble I caused you?" he asked
earnestly.

"Of course.  Anyone who's sorry just has to be forgiven."

"Thank you," said the gray dove, and flew away again.

THE END



The Wonderful Oz Books by L. Frank Baum

The Wizard of Oz
The Land of Oz
Ozma of Oz
Dorothy and the Wizard in Oz
The Road to Oz
The Emerald City of Oz
The Patchwork Girl of Oz
Tik-Tok of Oz
The Scarecrow of Oz
Rinkitink in Oz
The Lost Princess of Oz
The Tin Woodman of Oz
The Magic of Oz
Glinda of Oz





End of Project Gutenberg's Etext of The Lost Princess of Oz, by Baum


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