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CHAPTER 7- THE SCARECROW IS HAILED AS EMPEROR!

Leaning forward on the great throne, the Scarecrow waited impatiently for

the ancient gentleman to speak. The gray-skinned courtiers were eyeing him

expectantly, and just as the suspense became almost unendurable, the old

man threw up his arms and cried sharply:

"The prophecy of the magic beanstalk has been fulfilled. In this radiant and

sublime Scarecrowcus, the spirit of Chang Wang Woe, the mighty, has

returned. And I, the Grand Chew Chew of the realm, prostrate myself before

this wonderful Scarecrowcus, Emperor of the Silver Islands." So, likewise,

did all the company present, and the Scarecrow, taken unawares, flew up

several feet and landed in a heap on the steps leading to the throne. He

climbed back hurriedly, picking up the fan and parasol that he had plucked

from the beanstalk.

"I wish Professor Wogglebug could hear this," said the Scarecrow, settling

himself complacently. "But I must watch out, and remember to hold on."

The Grand Chew Chew was the first to rise, and folding his arms, he asked

solemnly:

"What are your commands, Ancient and Honorable Scarecrowcus?"

If you'd just omit the Cus," begged the Scarecrow in an embarrassed voice,

I believe I could think better. Am I in China, or where? Are you Chinamen,

or what?"

We are Silvermen," said the Grand Chew Chew impressively, "and a much

older race than our Chinese cousins. They are people of the sun. We are

people of the stars. Has your Highness so soon forgotten?"

"I am afraid," said the Scarecrow, rubbing his chin reflectively, "that I have."

He gazed slowly around the great throne room. Ozma's palace itself was not

more dazzling. The floor of dull silver blocks was covered with rich blue

rugs. Furniture, chairs, screens and everything were made of silver inlaid

with precious stones. Filigreed silver lanterns hung from the high ceilings,

and tall silver vases filled with pink and blue blossoms filled the rooms with

their perfume. Blue flags embroidered with silver stars fluttered from the

walls and the tips of the pikebearers' spears, and silver seemed to be so

plentiful that even shoes were fashioned of it. Faintly through the windows

came the sweet tones of a hundred silver chimes, and altogether the

Scarecrow was quite dazed by his apparent good fortune. Surely they had

The Royal Book of Oz