n't notice it ourselves. Let's go and ask the people how to get
'cross the river."

A quarter of a mile along the bank stood a small, round house, painted
bright red, and as it was on their side of the river they hurried toward
it. A chubby little man, dressed all in red, came out to greet them, and
with him were two children, also in red costumes. The man's eyes were
big and staring as he examined the Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl, and
the children shyly hid behind him and peeked timidly at Toto.

"Do you live here, my good man?" asked the Scarecrow.

"I think I do, Most Mighty Magician," replied the Quadling, bowing low;
"but whether I'm awake or dreaming I can't be positive, so I'm not sure
where I live. If you'll kindly pinch me I'll find out all about it."

"You're awake," said Dorothy, "and this is no magician, but just the
Scarecrow."

"But he's alive," protested the man, "and he oughtn't to be, you know.
And that other dreadful person--the girl who is all patches--seems to be
alive, too."

"Very much so," declared Scraps, making a face at him. "But that isn't
your affair, you know."

"I've a right to be surprised, haven't I?" asked the man meekly.

"I'm not sure; but anyhow you've no right to say I'm dreadful. The
Scarecrow, who is a gentleman of great wisdom, thinks I'm beautiful,"
retorted Scraps.

"Never mind all that," said Dorothy. "Tell us, good Quadling, how we can
get across the river."

"I don't know," replied the Quadling.

"Don't you ever cross it?" asked the girl.

"Never."

"Don't travelers cross it?"

"Not to my knowledge," said he.

They were much surprised to hear this, and the man added: "It's a pretty
big river, and the current is strong. I know a man who lives on the
opposite bank, for I've seen him there a good many years; but we've
never spoken because neither of us has ever crossed over."

"That's queer," said the Scarecrow. "Don't you own a boat?"

The man shook his head.

"Nor a raft?"

"No."

"Where does this river go to?" asked Dorothy.

"That way," answered the man, pointing with one hand, "it goes into the
Country of the Winkies, which is ruled by the Tin Emperor, who must be a
mighty magician because he's all made of tin, and yet he's alive. And
that way," pointing with the other hand, "the river runs between two
mountains where dangerous people dwell."

The Scarecrow looked at the water before them.

"The current flows toward the Winkie Country," sa