i--mi--mittens!" said the kangaroo, getting it out at
last.

"Oh!" cried the Yellow Hen, with a cackle of relief. "Why didn't you
say so before?"

"Boo-hoo! I--I--couldn't," answered the kangaroo.

"But, see here," said Dorothy, "you don't need mittens in this warm
weather."

"Yes, indeed I do," replied the animal, stopping her sobs and removing
her paws from her face to look at the little girl reproachfully. "My
hands will get all sunburned and tanned without my mittens, and I've
worn them so long that I'll probably catch cold without them."

"Nonsense!" said Dorothy. "I never heard of any kangaroo wearing
mittens."

"Didn't you?" asked the animal, as if surprised.

"Never!" repeated the girl. "And you'll probably make yourself sick if
you don't stop crying. Where do you live?"

"About two miles beyond Fuddlecumjig," was the answer. "Grandmother
Gnit made me the mittens, and she's one of the Fuddles."

"Well, you'd better go home now, and perhaps the old lady will make you
another pair," suggested Dorothy. "We're on our way to Fuddlecumjig,
and you may hop along beside us."

So they rode on, and the kangaroo hopped beside the red wagon and
seemed quickly to have forgotten her loss. By and by the Wizard said
to the animal:

"Are the Fuddles nice people?"

"Oh, very nice," answered the kangaroo; "that is, when they're properly
put together. But they get dreadfully scattered and mixed up, at
times, and then you can't do anything with them."

"What do you mean by their getting scattered?" inquired Dorothy.

"Why, they're made in a good many small pieces," explained the
kangaroo; "and whenever any stranger comes near them they have a habit
of falling apart and scattering themselves around. That's when they
get so dreadfully mixed, and it's a hard puzzle to put them together
again."

"Who usually puts them together?" asked Omby Amby.

"Any one who is able to match the pieces. I sometimes put Grandmother
Gnit together myself, because I know her so well I can tell every piece
that belongs to her. Then, when she's all matched, she knits for me,
and that's how she made my mittens. But it took a good many days hard
knitting, and I had to put Grandmother together a good many times,
because every time I came near, she'd scatter herself."

"I should think she would get used to your coming, and not be afraid,"
said Dorothy.

"It isn't that," replied the kangaroo. "They're not a bit afraid, when