“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.”