red, green, white and black; but I have no blue ribbons."

"I'll get you one!" cried Dorothy, who was sorry for the poor man; so
she ran back to the buggy and took from her suit-case a pretty blue
ribbon. It did her good to see how the braided man's eyes sparkled when
he received this treasure.

"You have made me very, very happy, my dear!" he exclaimed; and then he
insisted on the Wizard taking the box of flutters and the little girl
accepting the box of rustles.

"You may need them, some time," he said, "and there is really no use in
my manufacturing these things unless somebody uses them."

"Why did you leave the surface of the earth?" enquired the Wizard.

"I could not help it. It is a sad story, but if you will try to restrain
your tears I will tell you about it. On earth I was a manufacturer of
Imported Holes for American Swiss Cheese, and I will acknowledge that I
supplied a superior article, which was in great demand. Also I made
pores for porous plasters and high-grade holes for doughnuts and
buttons. Finally I invented a new Adjustable Post-hole, which I thought
would make my fortune. I manufactured a large quantity of these
post-holes, and having no room in which to store them I set them all end
to end and put the top one in the ground. That made an extraordinary
long hole, as you may imagine, and reached far down into the earth; and,
as I leaned over it to try to see to the bottom, I lost my balance and
tumbled in. Unfortunately, the hole led directly into the vast space you
see outside this mountain; but I managed to catch a point of rock that
projected from this cavern, and so saved myself from tumbling headlong
into the black waves beneath, where the tongues of flame that dart out
would certainly have consumed me. Here, then, I made my home; and
although it is a lonely place I amuse myself making rustles and
flutters, and so get along very nicely."

When the braided man had completed this strange tale Dorothy nearly
laughed, because it was all so absurd; but the Wizard tapped his
forehead significantly, to indicate that he thought the poor man was
crazy. So they politely bade him good day, and went back to the outer
cavern to resume their journey.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER 11.

THEY MEET THE WOODEN GARGOYLES

Another breathless climb brought our adventurers to a third landing
where there was a rift in the mountain. On peering out all they could
see was rolling banks of clouds, so thick