me."

"That is because you are in the Land of Oz," said the Sawhorse. "All
animals talk, in this favored country, and you must admit it is more
sociable than to bray your dreadful 'hee-haw,' which nobody can
understand."

"Mules understand it very well," declared Hank.

"Oh, indeed! Then there must be other mules in your outside world,"
said the Tiger, yawning sleepily.

"There are a great many in America," said Hank. "Are you the only Tiger
in Oz?"

"No," acknowledged the Tiger, "I have many relatives living in the
Jungle Country; but I am the only Tiger living in the Emerald City."

"There are other Lions, too," said the Sawhorse; "but I am the only
horse, of any description, in this favored Land."

"That is why this Land is favored," said the Tiger. "You must
understand, friend Hank, that the Sawhorse puts on airs because he is
shod with plates of gold, and because our beloved Ruler, Ozma of Oz,
likes to ride upon his back."

"Betsy rides upon my back," declared Hank proudly.

"Who is Betsy?"

"The dearest, sweetest girl in all the world!"

The Sawhorse gave an angry snort and stamped his golden feet. The Tiger
crouched and growled. Slowly the great Lion rose to his feet, his mane
bristling.

"Friend Hank," said he, "either you are mistaken in judgment or you are
willfully trying to deceive us. The dearest, sweetest girl in the world
is our Dorothy, and I will fight anyone--animal or human--who dares to
deny it!"

"So will I!" snarled the Tiger, showing two rows of enormous white
teeth.

"You are all wrong!" asserted the Sawhorse in a voice of scorn. "No
girl living can compare with my mistress, Ozma of Oz!"

Hank slowly turned around until his heels were toward the others. Then
he said stubbornly:

"I am not mistaken in my statement, nor will I admit there can be a
sweeter girl alive than Betsy Bobbin. If you want to fight, come
on--I'm ready for you!"

While they hesitated, eyeing Hank's heels doubtfully, a merry peal of
laughter startled the animals and turning their heads they beheld three
lovely girls standing just within the richly carved entrance to the
stable. In the center was Ozma, her arms encircling the waists of
Dorothy and Betsy, who stood on either side of her. Ozma was nearly
half a head taller than the two other girls, who were almost of one
size. Unobserved, they had listened to the talk of the animals, which
was a very strange experience indeed to little Betsy Bobbin.

"Yo