The Magic of Oz

said Trot thoughtfully. "I never knew before what fun it is to raise one foot,

an' then another, any time you feel like it."

There's lots o' things folks don't 'preciate," replied the sailor-man. "If

somethin' would 'most stop your breath, you'd think breathin' easy was the

finest thing in life. When a person's well, he don't realize how jolly it is,

but when he gets sick he 'members the time he was well, an' wishes that

time would come back. Most folks forget to thank God for givin' 'em two

good legs, till they lose one o' 'em, like I did; and then it's too late, 'cept to

praise God for leavin' one."

Your wooden leg ain't so bad, Cap'n," she remarked, looking at it

critically. "Anyhow, it don't take root on a Magic Island, like our meat legs

do."

I ain't complainin'," said Cap'n Bill. "What's that swimmin' towards

us, Trot?" he added, looking over the Magic Flower and across the water.

The girl looked, too, and then she replied.

It's a bird of some sort. It's like a duck, only I never saw a duck have

so many colors."

The bird swam swiftly and gracefully toward the Magic Isle, and as it

drew nearer its gorgeously colored plumage astonished them. The feathers

were of many hues of glistening greens and blues and purples, and it had a

yellow head with a red plume, and pink, white and violet in its tail. When

it reached the Isle, it came ashore and approached them, waddling slowly

and turning its head first to one side and then to the other, so as to see the

girl and the sailor better.

You're strangers," said the bird, coming to a halt near them, "and

you've been caught by the Magic Isle and made prisoners."

Yes," returned Trot, with a sigh; "we're rooted. But I hope we won't

grow."

You'll grow small," said the Bird. "You'll keep growing smaller every

day, until bye and bye there'll be nothing left of you. That's the usual way,

on this Magic Isle."

How do you know about it, and who are you, anyhow?" asked Cap'n

Bill.