e quickest way."

No one made any objection to this plan, so the Sawhorse turned into the
path, which proved to be nearly as good as the one they had taken to
get to the Fuddles. As first they passed a few retired farm houses,
but soon these scattered dwellings were left behind and only the
meadows and the trees were before them. But they rode along in
cheerful contentment, and Aunt Em got into an argument with Billina
about the proper way to raise chickens.

"I do not care to contradict you," said the Yellow Hen, with dignity,
"but I have an idea I know more about chickens than human beings do."

"Pshaw!" replied Aunt Em. "I've raised chickens for nearly forty
years, Billina, and I know you've got to starve 'em to make 'em lay
lots of eggs, and stuff 'em if you want good broilers."

"Broilers!" exclaimed Billina, in horror. "Broil my chickens!"

"Why, that's what they're for, ain't it?" asked Aunt Em, astonished.

"No, Aunt, not in Oz," said Dorothy. "People do not eat chickens here.
You see, Billina was the first hen that was ever seen in this country,
and I brought her here myself. Everybody liked her an' respected her,
so the Oz people wouldn't any more eat her chickens than they would eat
Billina."

"Well, I declare," gasped Aunt Em. "How about the eggs?"

"Oh, if we have more eggs than we want to hatch, we allow people to eat
them," said Billina. "Indeed, I am very glad the Oz folks like our
eggs, for otherwise they would spoil."

"This certainly is a queer country," sighed Aunt Em.

"Excuse me," called the Sawhorse, "the path has ended and I'd like to
know which way to go."

They looked around and sure enough there was no path to be seen.

"Well," said Dorothy, "we're going southwest, and it seems just as easy
to follow that direction without a path as with one."

"Certainly," answered the Sawhorse. "It is not hard to draw the wagon
over the meadow. I only want to know where to go."

"There's a forest over there across the prairie," said the Wizard, "and
it lies in the direction we are going. Make straight for the forest,
Sawhorse, and you're bound to go right."

So the wooden animal trotted on again and the meadow grass was so soft
under the wheels that it made easy riding. But Dorothy was a little
uneasy at losing the path, because now there was nothing to guide them.

No houses were to be seen at all, so they could not ask their way of
any farmer; and although the Land of Oz was a