ody believed
in Oz!"

"Perhaps your Highness can convince them later," suggested the
Imperial Punster. "This way, offspring." His Master, he felt, had had
enough family for one day. So the fifteen little Princes, with
fifteen stiff little bows, took themselves back to the royal nursery.
As for the Scarecrow, he paced disconsolately up and down his
magnificent throne room, tripping over his kimona at every other
step.

"You're a good boy, Tappy," said the Scarecrow as Happy returned,
"but I tell you being a grandparent is not what I thought it would
be. Did you hear them tell me right to my face they did not believe
in Oz? And my sons--ugh!"

"Fault of their bringing up," said Happy Toko comfortingly. "If your
serene Highness would just tell me more of that illustrious country!"
Happy knew that nothing cheered the Scarecrow like talking of Oz, and
to tell the truth Happy himself never tired of the Scarecrow's
marvelous stories. So the two slipped quietly into the palace
gardens, and the Scarecrow related for the fourteenth time the story
of his discovery by Dorothy and the story of Ozma, and almost forgot
that he was an Emperor.

"Your Highness knows the history of Oz by heart," said Happy
admiringly as the Scarecrow paused.

"I couldn't do that," said the Scarecrow gently, "for you see, Happy,
I have no heart."

"Then I wish we all had none!" exclaimed Happy Toko, rolling up his
eyes. The Scarecrow looked embarrassed, so the little Punster threw
back his head and sang a song he had been making up while the
Scarecrow had been telling his stories:

The Scarecrow was standing alone in a field,
Inviting the crows to keep off,
When the straw in his chest began tickling his vest
And he couldn't resist a loud cough.

The noise that was heard so surprised ev'ry bird,
that the flock flew away in a fright,
But the Scarecrow looked pleased, and he said "If I'd sneezed
It wouldn't have been so polite."

"Ho!" roared the Scarecrow, "You're almost as good at making verses
as Scraps, Write that down for me, Tappy. I'd like to show it to
her."

"Hush!" whispered Happy, holding up his finger warningly. The
Scarecrow turned so suddenly that the silver pigtail pinned to the
back of his hat wound itself tightly around his neck. No wonder! On
the other side of the hedge the three Princes were walking up and
down, conversing in indignant whispers.

"What a horrible shape our