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 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.”