never can I find her," continued poor
Tommy Kwikstep, sadly.

"I suppose," said the Tin Owl, blinking at him, "you can travel very
fast, with those twenty legs."

"At first I was able to," was the reply; "but I traveled so much,
searching for the fairy, or witch, or whatever she was, that I soon got
corns on my toes. Now, a corn on one toe is not so bad, but when you
have a hundred toes--as I have--and get corns on most of them, it is
far from pleasant. Instead of running, I now painfully crawl, and
although I try not to be discouraged I do hope I shall find that witch
or fairy, or whatever she was, before long."

"I hope so, too," said the Scarecrow. "But, after all, you have the
pleasure of knowing you are unusual, and therefore remarkable among the
people of Oz. To be just like other persons is small credit to one,
while to be unlike others is a mark of distinction."

"That sounds very pretty," returned Tommy Kwikstep, "but if you had to
put on ten pair of trousers every morning, and tie up twenty shoes, you
would prefer not to be so distinguished."

"Was the witch, or fairy, or whatever she was, an old person, with
wrinkled skin and half her teeth gone?" inquired the Tin Owl.

"No," said Tommy Kwikstep.

"Then she wasn't Old Mombi," remarked the transformed Emperor.

"I'm not interested in who it wasn't, so much as I am in who it was,"
said the twenty-legged young man. "And, whatever or whomsoever she was,
she has managed to keep out of my way."

"If you found her, do you suppose she'd change you back into a
two-legged boy?" asked Woot.

"Perhaps so, if I could run another errand for her and so earn another
wish."

"Would you really like to be as you were before?" asked Polychrome the
Canary, perching upon the Green Monkey's shoulder to observe Tommy
Kwikstep more attentively.

"I would, indeed," was the earnest reply.

"Then I will see what I can do for you," promised the Rainbow's
Daughter, and flying to the ground she took a small twig in her bill
and with it made several mystic figures on each side of Tommy Kwikstep.

"Are you a witch, or fairy, or something of the sort?" he asked as he
watched her wonderingly.

The Canary made no answer, for she was busy, but the Scarecrow Bear
replied: "Yes; she's something of the sort, and a bird of a magician."

The twenty-legged boy's transformation happened so queerly that they
were all surprised at its method. First, Tommy Kwikstep's last two legs
di