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Wait!" said the Scarecrow hastily, "I'll tell you a story. Once upon a time, to

a beautiful country called Oz, which is surrounded on all sides by a deadly

desert, there came a little girl named Dorothy. A terrible gale--Well, what's

the matter now?" The Scarecrow stopped short, for the oldest Prince had

jerked a book out of his sleeve and was flipping over the pages industriously.

"It is not on the map, great Grand papapapah," he announced solemnly, and

all of the other little Princes shook their heads and said dully, "Not on the

map."

"Not on the map--Oz? Of course it's not. Do you suppose we want all the

humans in creation coming there?" Calming down, the Scarecrow tried to

continue his story, but every time he mentioned Oz, the little Princes shook

their heads stubbornly and whispered, "Not on the map," till the usually

good-tempered Scarecrow flew into perfect passion.

"Not on the map, you little villains!" he screamed, forgetting they were his

grandsons. "What difference does that make? Are your heads solid silver?"

We do not believe in Oz," announced the oldest Prince serenely. "There is no

such place."

No such place as Oz--Happy, do you hear that?" The Scarecrow's voice

fairly crackled with indignation. "Why, I thought everybody believed in Oz!"

"Perhaps your Highness can convince them later," suggested the Imperial

Punster. "This way, offspring." His Master, he felt, had had enough family

for one day. So the fifteen little Princes, with fifteen stiff little bows, took

themselves back to the royal nursery. As for the Scarecrow, he paced

disconsolately up and down his magnificent throne room, tripping over his

kimona at every other step.

"You're a good boy, Tappy," said the Scarecrow as Happy returned, "but I tell

you being a grandparent is not what I thought it would be. Did you hear

them tell me right to my face they did not believe in Oz? And my sons--ugh!"

Fault of their bringing up," said Happy Toko comfortingly. "If your serene

Highness would just tell me more of that illustrious country!" Happy knew

that nothing cheered the Scarecrow like talking of Oz, and to tell the truth

Happy himself never tired of the Scarecrow's marvelous stories. So the two

slipped quietly into the palace gardens, and the Scarecrow related for the

fourteenth time the story of his discovery by Dorothy and the story of Ozma,

and almost forgot that he was an Emperor.

The Royal Book of Oz