" cried the Shaggy Man, springing to his feet.
"What do you mean by such impertinence?"

"It's the latest popular song," declared the phonograph, speaking in a
sulky tone of voice.

"A popular song?"

"Yes. One that the feeble-minded can remember the words of and those
ignorant of music can whistle or sing. That makes a popular song
popular, and the time is coming when it will take the place of all other
songs."

"That time won't come to us, just yet," said the Shaggy Man, sternly:
"I'm something of a singer myself, and I don't intend to be throttled by
any Lulus like your cross-eyed one. I shall take you all apart, Mr.
Phony, and scatter your pieces far and wide over the country, as a
matter of kindness to the people you might meet if allowed to run around
loose. Having performed this painful duty I shall--"

But before he could say more the phonograph turned and dashed up the
road as fast as its four table-legs could carry it, and soon it had
entirely disappeared from their view.

The Shaggy Man sat down again and seemed well pleased. "Some one else
will save me the trouble of scattering that phonograph," said he; "for
it is not possible that such a music-maker can last long in the Land of
Oz. When you are rested, friends, let us go on our way."

[Illustration]

During the afternoon the travelers found themselves in a lonely and
uninhabited part of the country. Even the fields were no longer
cultivated and the country began to resemble a wilderness. The road of
yellow bricks seemed to have been neglected and became uneven and more
difficult to walk upon. Scrubby underbrush grew on either side of the
way, while huge rocks were scattered around in abundance.

But this did not deter Ojo and his friends from trudging on, and they
beguiled the journey with jokes and cheerful conversation. Toward
evening they reached a crystal spring which gushed from a tall rock by
the roadside and near this spring stood a deserted cabin. Said the
Shaggy Man, halting here:

"We may as well pass the night here, where there is shelter for our
heads and good water to drink. Road beyond here is pretty bad; worst we
shall have to travel; so let's wait until morning before we tackle it."

They agreed to this and Ojo found some brushwood in the cabin and made a
fire on the hearth. The fire delighted Scraps, who danced before it
until Ojo warned her she might set fire to herself and burn up. After
that the Patchwork Girl kept at a re