nine," answered the Professor; "but they do not live with us,
for when they were tiny piglets the Wizard of Oz came here and offered
to care for them and to educate them. So we let him have our nine tiny
piglets, for he's a good Wizard and can be relied upon to keep his
promises."

"I know the Nine Tiny Piglets," said the Tin Woodman.

"So do I," said the Scarecrow. "They still live in the Emerald City, and
the Wizard takes good care of them and teaches them to do all sorts of
tricks."

"Did they ever grow up?" inquired Mrs. Squealina Swyne, in an anxious
voice.

"No," answered the Scarecrow; "like all other children in the Land of
Oz, they will always remain children, and in the case of the tiny
piglets that is a good thing, because they would not be nearly so cute
and cunning if they were bigger."

"But are they happy?" asked Mrs. Swyne.

"Everyone in the Emerald City is happy," said the Tin Woodman. "They
can't help it."

Then the travelers said good-bye, and climbed the side of the basin that
was toward Mount Munch.

Polychrome's Magic

[Illustration]

CHAPTER 21

On this morning, which ought to be the last of this important journey,
our friends started away as bright and cheery as could be, and Woot
whistled a merry tune so that Polychrome could dance to the music.

On reaching the top of the hill, the plain spread out before them in all
its beauty of blue grasses and wildflowers, and Mount Munch seemed much
nearer than it had the previous evening. They trudged on at a brisk
pace, and by noon the mountain was so close that they could admire its
appearance. Its slopes were partly clothed with pretty evergreens, and
its foot-hills were tufted with a slender waving bluegrass that had a
tassel on the end of every blade. And, for the first time, they
perceived, near the foot of the mountain, a charming house, not of great
size but neatly painted and with many flowers surrounding it and vines
climbing over the doors and windows.

It was toward this solitary house that our travelers now directed their
steps, thinking to inquire of the people who lived there where Nimmie
Amee might be found.

There were no paths, but the way was quite open and clear, and they were
drawing near to the dwelling when Woot the Wanderer, who was then in the
lead of the little party, halted with such an abrupt jerk that he
stumbled over backward and lay flat on his back in the meadow. The
Scarecrow stopped to look at