you look like a play-actor,” announced Aunt Em, looking at her husband critically.
“An’ you, Em, look more highfalutin’ than a peacock,” he replied.
“I guess you’re right,” she said regretfully; “but we’re helpless victims of high-toned royalty.”
Dorothy was much amused.
“Come with me,” she said, “and I’ll show you ‘round the palace.”
She took them through the beautiful rooms and introduced them to all the people they chanced to meet. Also she showed them her own pretty rooms, which were not far from their own.
“So it’s all true,” said Aunt Em, wide-eyed with amazement, “and what Dorothy told us of this fairy country was plain facts instead of dreams! But where are all the strange creatures you used to know here?”
“Yes, where’s the Scarecrow?” inquired Uncle Henry.
“Why, he’s just now away on a visit to the Tin Woodman, who is Emp’ror of the Winkie Country,” answered the little girl. “You’ll see him when he comes back, and you’re sure to like him.”
“And where’s the Wonderful Wizard?” asked Aunt Em.
“You’ll see him at Ozma’s luncheon, for he lives here in this palace,” was the reply.
“And Jack Pumpkinhead?”
“Oh, he lives a little way out of town, in his own pumpkin field. We’ll go there some time and see him, and we’ll call on Professor Wogglebug, too. The Shaggy Man will be at the luncheon, I guess, and Tiktok. And now I’ll take you out to see Billina, who has a house of her own.”
So they went into the back yard, and after walking along winding paths some distance through the beautiful gardens they came to an attractive little house where the Yellow Hen sat on the front porch sunning herself.
“Good morning, my dear Mistress,” called Billina, fluttering down to meet them. “I was expecting you to call, for I heard you had come back and brought your uncle and aunt with you.”
“We’re here for good and all, this time, Billina,” cried Dorothy, joyfully. “Uncle Henry and Aunt Em belong to Oz now as much as I do!”
“Then they are very lucky people,” declared Billina; “for there couldn’t be a nicer place to live. But come, my dear; I must show you all my Dorothys. Nine are living and have grown up to be very respectable hens; but one took cold at Ozma’s birthday party and died of the pip, and the other two turned out to be horrid roosters, so I had to change their names from Dorothy to Daniel. They all had the letter ‘D’ engraved upon their gold lockets, you remember, with your picture inside, and ‘D’ stands for Daniel as well as for Dorothy.”
“Did you call both the roosters Daniel?” asked Uncle Henry.
“Yes, indeed. I’ve nine Dorothys and two Daniels; and the nine Dorothys have eighty-six sons and daughters and over three hundred grandchildren,” said Billina, proudly.
“What names do you give ‘em all, dear?” inquired the little girl.
“Oh, they are all Dorothys and Daniels, some being Juniors and some Double-Juniors. Dorothy and Daniel are two good names, and I see no object in hunting for others,” declared the Yellow Hen. “But just think, Dorothy, what a big chicken family we’ve grown to be, and our numbers increase nearly every day! Ozma doesn’t know what to do with all the eggs we lay, and we are never eaten or harmed in any way, as chickens are in your country. They give us everything to make us contented and happy, and I, my dear, am the acknowledged Queen and Governor of every chicken in Oz, because I’m the eldest and started the whole colony.”
“You ought to be very proud, ma’am,” said Uncle Henry, who was astonished to hear a hen talk so sensibly.
“Oh, I am,” she replied. “I’ve the loveliest pearl necklace you ever saw. Come in the house and I’ll show it to you. And I’ve nine leg bracelets and a diamond pin for each wing. But I only wear them on state occasions.”
They followed the Yellow Hen into the house, which Aunt Em declared was neat as a pin. They could not sit down, because all Billina’s chairs were roosting-poles made of silver; so they had to stand while the hen fussily showed them her treasures.
Then they had to go into the back rooms occupied by Billina’s nine Dorothys and two Daniels, who were all plump yellow chickens and greeted the visitors very politely. It was easy to see that they were well bred and that Billina had looked after their education.
In the yards were all the children and grandchildren of these eleven elders and they were of all sizes, from well-grown hens to tiny chickens just out of the shell. About fifty fluffy yellow youngsters were at school, being taught good manners and good grammar by a young hen who wore spectacles. They sang in chorus a patriotic song of the Land of Oz, in honor of their visitors, and Aunt Em was much impressed by these talking chickens.
Dorothy wanted to stay and play with the young chickens for awhile, but Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had not seen the palace grounds and gardens yet and were eager to get better acquainted with the marvelous and delightful land in which they were to live.
“I’ll stay here, and you can go for a walk,” said Dorothy. “You’ll be perfec’ly safe anywhere, and may do whatever you want to. When you get tired, go back to the palace and find your rooms, and I’ll come to you before luncheon is ready.”
So Uncle Henry and Aunt Em started out alone to explore the grounds, and Dorothy knew that they couldn’t get lost, because all the palace grounds were enclosed by a high wall of green marble set with emeralds.
It was a rare treat to these simple folk, who had lived in the country all their lives and known little enjoyment of any sort, to wear beautiful clothes and live in a palace and be treated with respect and consideration by all around them. They were very happy indeed as they strolled up the shady walks and looked upon the gorgeous flowers and shrubs, feeling that their new home was more beautiful than any tongue could describe.
Suddenly, as they turned a corner and walked through a gap in a high hedge, they came face to face with an enormous Lion, which crouched upon the green lawn and seemed surprised by their appearance.
They stopped short, Uncle Henry trembling with horror and Aunt Em too terrified to scream. Next moment the poor woman clasped her husband around the neck and cried:
“Save me, Henry, save me!”
“Can’t even save myself, Em,” he returned, in a husky voice, “for the animile looks as if it could eat both of us an’ lick its chops for more! If I only had a gun-“
“Haven’t you, Henry? Haven’t you?” she asked anxiously.
“Nary gun, Em. So let’s die as brave an’ graceful as we can. I knew our luck couldn’t last!”
“I won’t die. I won’t be eaten by a lion!” wailed Aunt Em, glaring upon the huge beast. Then a thought struck her, and she whispered, “Henry, I’ve heard as savage beastses can be conquered by the human eye. I’ll eye that lion out o’ countenance an’ save our lives.”
“Try it, Em,” he returned, also in a whisper. “Look
