of Oz. So, as Ozma is a
fairy, she may be able to tell you just who has taken your precious
dishpan. Provided, of course, you do not find it before you reach her."

"This seems to be to be excellent advice," said the Frogman, and Cayke
agreed with him.

"The most sensible thing for you to do," continued the woman, "would be
to return to your home and use another dishpan, learn to cook cookies
as other people cook cookies, without the aid of magic. But if you
cannot be happy without the magic dishpan you have lost, you are likely
to learn more about it in the Emerald City than at any other place in
Oz."

They thanked the good woman, and on leaving her house faced the east
and continued in that direction all the way. Toward evening they came
to the west branch of the Winkie River and there, on the riverbank,
found a ferryman who lived all alone in a little yellow house. This
ferryman was a Winkie with a very small head and a very large body. He
was sitting in his doorway as the travelers approached him and did not
even turn his head to look at them.

"Good evening," said the Frogman.

The ferryman made no reply.

"We would like some supper and the privilege of sleeping in your house
until morning," continued the Frogman. "At daybreak, we would like
some breakfast, and then we would like to have you row us across the
river."

The ferryman neither moved nor spoke. He sat in his doorway and looked
straight ahead. "I think he must be deaf and dumb," Cayke whispered to
her companion. Then she stood directly in front of the ferryman, and
putting her mouth close to his ear, she yelled as loudly as she could,
"Good evening!"

The ferryman scowled.

"Why do you yell at me, woman?" he asked.

"Can you hear what I say?" asked in her ordinary tone of voice.

"Of course," replied the man.

"Then why didn't you answer the Frogman?"

"Because," said the ferryman, "I don't understand the frog language."

"He speaks the same words that I do and in the same way," declared
Cayke.

"Perhaps," replied the ferryman, "but to me his voice sounded like a
frog's croak. I know that in the Land of Oz animals can speak our
language, and so can the birds and bugs and fishes; but in MY ears,
they sound merely like growls and chirps and croaks."

"Why is that?" asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.

"Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which had taunted me,
and I stole some birds' eggs from a nest to make an ome