tle of the Wicked Witch and the Emerald City. When the four
travelers went in search of the Witch she had seen them coming, and so
sent the Winged Monkeys to bring them to her. It was much harder to
find their way back through the big fields of buttercups and yellow
daisies than it was being carried. They knew, of course, they must go
straight east, toward the rising sun; and they started off in the right
way. But at noon, when the sun was over their heads, they did not know
which was east and which was west, and that was the reason they were
lost in the great fields. They kept on walking, however, and at night
the moon came out and shone brightly. So they lay down among the sweet
smelling yellow flowers and slept soundly until morning--all but the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman.

The next morning the sun was behind a cloud, but they started on, as if
they were quite sure which way they were going.

"If we walk far enough," said Dorothy, "I am sure we shall sometime
come to some place."

But day by day passed away, and they still saw nothing before them but
the scarlet fields. The Scarecrow began to grumble a bit.

"We have surely lost our way," he said, "and unless we find it again in
time to reach the Emerald City, I shall never get my brains."

"Nor I my heart," declared the Tin Woodman. "It seems to me I can
scarcely wait till I get to Oz, and you must admit this is a very long
journey."

"You see," said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, "I haven't the
courage to keep tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all."

Then Dorothy lost heart. She sat down on the grass and looked at her
companions, and they sat down and looked at her, and Toto found that
for the first time in his life he was too tired to chase a butterfly
that flew past his head. So he put out his tongue and panted and
looked at Dorothy as if to ask what they should do next.

"Suppose we call the field mice," she suggested. "They could probably
tell us the way to the Emerald City."

"To be sure they could," cried the Scarecrow. "Why didn't we think of
that before?"

Dorothy blew the little whistle she had always carried about her neck
since the Queen of the Mice had given it to her. In a few minutes they
heard the pattering of tiny feet, and many of the small gray mice came
running up to her. Among them was the Queen herself, who asked, in her
squeaky little voice:

"What can I do for my friends?"

"We have lost our way