that?” asked the Scarecrow.
“I say I can see her in my mind’s eye—”
“The mind has no eye,” declared the Scarecrow. “It’s blind.”
“Your Highness,” cried the WoggleBug, appealing to Ozma, “have I a mind’s eye, or haven’t I?”
“If you have, it is invisible,” said the Princess.
“Very true,” returned the WoggleBug, bowing. “I say I see the criminal, in my mind’s eye, creeping stealthily into the room of our Ozma and secreting herself, when no one was looking, until the Princess had gone away and the door was closed. Then the murderer was alone with her helpless victim, the fat piglet, and I see her pounce upon the innocent creature and eat it up—”
“Are you still seeing with your mind’s eye?” enquired the Scarecrow.
“Of course; how else could I see it? And we know the thing is true, because since the time of that interview there is no piglet to be found anywhere.”
“I suppose, if the cat had been gone, instead of the piglet, your mind’s eye would see the piglet eating the cat,” suggested the Scarecrow.
“Very likely,” acknowledged the WoggleBug. “And now, Fellow Citizens and Creatures of the Jury, I assert that so awful a crime deserves death, and in the case of the ferocious criminal before you—who is now washing her face—the death penalty should be inflicted nine times.”
There was great applause when the speaker sat down. Then the Princess spoke in a stern voice:
“Prisoner, what have you to say for yourself? Are you guilty, or not guilty?”
“Why, that’s for you to find out,” replied Eureka. “If you can prove I’m guilty, I’ll be willing to die nine times, but a mind’s eye is no proof, because the WoggleBug has no mind to see with.”
“Never mind, dear,” said Dorothy.
Then the Tin Woodman arose and said:
“Respected Jury and dearly beloved Ozma, I pray you not to judge this feline prisoner unfeelingly. I do not think the innocent kitten can be guilty, and surely it is unkind to accuse a luncheon of being a murder. Eureka is the sweet pet of a lovely little girl whom we all admire, and gentleness and innocence are her chief virtues. Look at the kitten’s intelligent eyes;” (here Eureka closed her eyes sleepily) “gaze at her smiling countenance!” (here Eureka snarled and showed her teeth) “mark the tender pose of her soft, padded little hands!” (Here Eureka bared her sharp claws and scratched at the bars of the cage.) “Would such a gentle animal be guilty of eating a fellow creature? No; a thousand times, no!”
“Oh, cut it short,” said Eureka; “you’ve talked long enough.”
“I’m trying to defend you,” remonstrated the Tin Woodman.
“Then say something sensible,” retorted the kitten. “Tell them it would be foolish for me to eat the piglet, because I had sense enough to know it would raise a row if I did. But don’t try to make out I’m too innocent to eat a fat piglet if I could do it and not be found out. I imagine it would taste mighty good.”
“Perhaps it would, to those who eat,” remarked the Tin Woodman. “I myself, not being built to eat, have no personal experience in such matters. But I remember that our great poet once said:
‘To eat is sweet
When hunger’s seat
Demands a treat
Of savory meat.’”
“Take this into consideration, friends of the Jury, and you will readily decide that the kitten is wrongfully accused and should be set at liberty.”
When the Tin Woodman sat down no one applauded him, for his arguments had not been very convincing and few believed that he had proved Eureka’s innocence. As for the Jury, the members whispered to each other for a few minutes and then they appointed the Hungry Tiger their spokesman. The huge beast slowly arose and said:
“Kittens have no consciences, so they eat whatever pleases them. The jury believes the white kitten known as Eureka is guilty of having eaten the piglet owned by Princess Ozma, and recommends that she be put to death in punishment of the crime.”
The judgment of the jury was received with great applause, although Dorothy was sobbing miserably at the fate of her pet. The Princess was just about to order Eureka’s head chopped off with the Tin Woodman’s axe when that brilliant personage once more arose and addressed her.
“Your Highness,” said he, “see how easy it is for a jury to be mistaken. The kitten could not have eaten your piglet—for here it is!”
He took off his funnel hat and from beneath it produced a tiny white piglet, which he held aloft that all might see it clearly.
Ozma was delighted and exclaimed, eagerly:
“Give me my pet, Nick Chopper!”
And all the people cheered and clapped their hands, rejoicing that the prisoner had escaped death and been proved to be innocent.
As the Princess held the white piglet in her arms and stroked its soft hair she said: “Let Eureka out of the cage, for she is no longer a prisoner, but our good friend. Where did you find my missing pet, Nick Chopper?”
“In a room of the palace,” he answered.
“Justice,” remarked the Scarecrow, with a sigh, “is a dangerous thing to meddle with. If you hadn’t happened to find the piglet, Eureka would surely have been executed.”
“But justice prevailed at the last,” said Ozma, “for here is my pet, and Eureka is once more free.”
“I refuse to be free,” cried the kitten, in a sharp voice, “unless the Wizard can do his trick with eight piglets. If he can produce but seven, then this is not the piglet that was lost, but another one.”
“Hush, Eureka!” warned the Wizard.
“Don’t be foolish,” advised the Tin Woodman, “or you may be sorry for it.”
“The piglet that belonged to the Princess wore an emerald collar,” said Eureka, loudly enough for all to hear.
“So it did!” exclaimed Ozma. “This cannot be the one the Wizard gave me.”
“Of course not; he had nine of them, altogether,” declared Eureka; “and I must say it was very stingy of him not to let me eat just a few. But now that this foolish trial is ended, I will tell you what really became of your pet piglet.”
At this everyone in the Throne Room suddenly became quiet, and the kitten continued, in a calm, mocking tone of voice:
“I will confess that I intended to eat the little pig for my breakfast; so I crept into the room where it was kept while the Princess was dressing and hid myself under a chair. When Ozma went away she closed the door and left her pet on the table. At once I jumped up and told the piglet not to make a fuss, for he would be inside
