man.

"Well, it stands up on its four feet and walks all around, and gets in
the way; and that spoils it for a rug. It can't speak, although it is
alive; for, while its head might say words, it has no breath in a solid
body to push the words out of its mouth. It's a very slimpsy affair
altogether, that bear rug, and the old woman is sorry it came to life.
Every day she has to scold it, and make it lie down flat on the parlor
floor to be walked upon; but sometimes when she goes to market the rug
will hump up its back skin, and stand on its four feet, and trot along
after her."

[Illustration]

"I should think Dyna would like that," said Dorothy.

"Well, she doesn't; because every one knows it isn't a real bear, but
just a hollow skin, and so of no actual use in the world except for a
rug," answered the Tin Woodman. "Therefore I believe it is a good thing
that all the magic Powder of Life is now used up, as it cannot cause
any more trouble."

"Perhaps you're right," said the shaggy man, thoughtfully.

At noon they stopped at a farm-house, where it delighted the farmer and
his wife to be able to give them a good luncheon. The farm people knew
Dorothy, having seen her when she was in the country before, and they
treated the little girl with as much respect as they did the Emperor,
because she was a friend of the powerful Princess Ozma.

They had not proceeded far after leaving this farm-house before coming
to a high bridge over a broad river. This river, the Tin Woodman
informed them, was the boundary between the Country of the Winkies and
the territory of the Emerald City. The city itself was still a long way
off, but all around it was a green meadow, as pretty as a well-kept
lawn, and in this were neither houses nor farms to spoil the beauty of
the scene.

From the top of the high bridge they could see far away the magnificent
spires and splendid domes of the superb city, sparkling like brilliant
jewels as they towered above the emerald walls. The shaggy man drew a
deep breath of awe and amazement, for never had he dreamed that such a
grand and beautiful place could exist--even in the fairyland of Oz.

Polly was so pleased that her violet eyes sparkled like amethysts, and
she danced away from her companions across the bridge and into a group
of feathery trees lining both the roadsides. These trees she stopped to
look at with pleasure and surprise, for their leaves were shaped like
ostrich plumes, their feather