f getting wet.

"It's good to be able to whistle again," remarked the shaggy man, "for
those donkey lips were so thick I could not whistle a note with them."
He warbled a tune as merrily as any bird.

"You'll look more natural at the birthday celebration, too," said
Dorothy, happy in seeing her friends so happy.

Polychrome was dancing ahead in her usual sprightly manner, whirling
gaily along the smooth, level road, until she passed from sight around
the curve of one of the mounds. Suddenly they heard her exclaim "Oh!"
and she appeared again, running toward them at full speed.

"What's the matter, Polly?" asked Dorothy, perplexed.

There was no need for the Rainbow's Daughter to answer, for turning the
bend in the road there came advancing slowly toward them a funny round
man made of burnished copper, gleaming brightly in the sun. Perched on
the copper man's shoulder sat a yellow hen, with fluffy feathers and a
pearl necklace around her throat.

"Oh, Tik-tok!" cried Dorothy, running forward. When she came to him,
the copper man lifted the little girl in his copper arms and kissed her
cheek with his copper lips.

"Oh, Billina!" cried Dorothy, in a glad voice, and the yellow hen flew
to her arms, to be hugged and petted by turns.

The others were curiously crowding around the group, and the girl said
to them:

"It's Tik-tok and Billina; and oh! I'm so glad to see them again."

"Wel-come to Oz," said the copper man in a monotonous voice.

Dorothy sat right down in the road, the yellow hen in her arms, and
began to stroke Billina's back. Said the hen:

"Dorothy, dear, I've got some wonderful news to tell you."

"Tell it quick, Billina!" said the girl.

Just then Toto, who had been growling to himself in a cross way, gave a
sharp bark and flew at the yellow hen, who ruffled her feathers and let
out such an angry screech that Dorothy was startled.

"Stop, Toto! Stop that this minute!" she commanded. "Can't you see
that Billina is my friend?" In spite of this warning had she not
grabbed Toto quickly by the neck the little dog would have done the
yellow hen a mischief, and even now he struggled madly to escape
Dorothy's grasp. She slapped his ears once or twice and told him to
behave, and the yellow hen flew to Tik-tok's shoulder again, where she
was safe.

"What a brute!" croaked Billina, glaring down at the little dog.

"Toto isn't a brute," replied Dorothy, "but at home Uncle Henry has to
whip him