“I did not know that you were ripe,” answered the Prince, in a low voice.
“Give me the Star of Royalty!” she commanded.
Slowly he took the shining star from his own brow and placed it upon that of the Princess. Then all the people bowed low to her, and the Prince turned and walked away alone. What became of him afterward our friends never knew.
The people of Mangaboo now formed themselves into a procession and marched toward the glass city to escort their new ruler to her palace and to perform those ceremonies proper to the occasion. But while the people in the procession walked upon the ground the Princess walked in the air just above their heads, to show that she was a superior being and more exalted than her subjects.
No one now seemed to pay any attention to the strangers, so Dorothy and Zeb and the Wizard let the train pass on and then wandered by themselves into the vegetable gardens. They did not bother to cross the bridges over the brooks, but when they came to a stream they stepped high and walked in the air to the other side. This was a very interesting experience to them, and Dorothy said:
“I wonder why it is that we can walk so easily in the air.”
“Perhaps,” answered the Wizard, “it is because we are close to the center of the earth, where the attraction of gravitation is very slight. But I’ve noticed that many queer things happen in fairy countries.”
“Is this a fairy country?” asked the boy.
“Of course it is,” returned Dorothy promptly. “Only a fairy country could have veg’table people; and only in a fairy country could Eureka and Jim talk as we do.”
“That’s true,” said Zeb, thoughtfully.
In the vegetable gardens they found the strawberries and melons, and several other unknown but delicious fruits, of which they ate heartily. But the kitten bothered them constantly by demanding milk or meat, and called the Wizard names because he could not bring her a dish of milk by means of his magical arts.
As they sat upon the grass watching Jim, who was still busily eating, Eureka said:
“I don’t believe you are a Wizard at all!”
“No,” answered the little man, “you are quite right. In the strict sense of the word I am not a Wizard, but only a humbug.”
“The Wizard of Oz has always been a humbug,” agreed Dorothy. “I’ve known him for a long time.”
“If that is so,” said the boy, “how could he do that wonderful trick with the nine tiny piglets?”
“Don’t know,” said Dorothy, “but it must have been humbug.”
“Very true,” declared the Wizard, nodding at her. “It was necessary to deceive that ugly Sorcerer and the Prince, as well as their stupid people; but I don’t mind telling you, who are my friends, that the thing was only a trick.”
“But I saw the little pigs with my own eyes!” exclaimed Zeb.
“So did I,” purred the kitten.
“To be sure,” answered the Wizard. “You saw them because they were there. They are in my inside pocket now. But the pulling of them apart and pushing them together again was only a sleight-of-hand trick.”
“Let’s see the pigs,” said Eureka, eagerly.
The little man felt carefully in his pocket and pulled out the tiny piglets, setting them upon the grass one by one, where they ran around and nibbled the tender blades.
“They’re hungry, too,” he said.
“Oh, what cunning things!” cried Dorothy, catching up one and petting it.
“Be careful!” said the piglet, with a squeal, “you’re squeezing me!”
“Dear me!” murmured the Wizard, looking at his pets in astonishment. “They can actually talk!”
“May I eat one of them?” asked the kitten, in a pleading voice. “I’m awfully hungry.”
“Why, Eureka,” said Dorothy, reproachfully, “what a cruel question! It would be dreadful to eat these dear little things.”
“I should say so!” grunted another of the piglets, looking uneasily at the kitten; “cats are cruel things.”
“I’m not cruel,” replied the kitten, yawning. “I’m just hungry.”
“You cannot eat my piglets, even if you are starving,” declared the little man, in a stern voice. “They are the only things I have to prove I’m a wizard.”
“How did they happen to be so little?” asked Dorothy. “I never saw such small pigs before.”
“They are from the Island of Teenty-Weent,” said the Wizard, “where everything is small because it’s a small island. A sailor brought them to Los Angeles and I gave him nine tickets to the circus for them.”
“But what am I going to eat?” wailed the kitten, sitting in front of Dorothy and looking pleadingly into her face. “There are no cows here to give milk; or any mice, or even grasshoppers. And if I can’t eat the piglets you may as well plant me at once and raise catsup.”
“I have an idea,” said the Wizard, “that there are fishes in these brooks. Do you like fish?”
“Fish!” cried the kitten. “Do I like fish? Why, they’re better than piglets—or even milk!”
“Then I’ll try to catch you some,” said he.
“But won’t they be veg’table, like everything else here?” asked the kitten.
“I think not. Fishes are not animals, and they are as cold and moist as the vegetables themselves. There is no reason, that I can see, why they may not exist in the waters of this strange country.”
Then the Wizard bent a pin for a hook and took a long piece of string from his pocket for a fishline. The only bait he could find was a bright red blossom from a flower; but he knew fishes are easy to fool if anything bright attracts their attention, so he decided to try the blossom. Having thrown the end of his line in the water of a nearby brook he soon felt a sharp tug that told him a fish had bitten and was caught on the bent pin; so the little man drew in the string and, sure enough, the fish came with it and was landed safely on the shore, where it began to flop around in great excitement.
The fish was fat and round, and its scales glistened like beautifully cut jewels set close together; but there was no time to examine it closely, for Eureka made a jump and caught it between her claws, and in a few moments it had entirely disappeared.
“Oh, Eureka!” cried Dorothy, “did you eat the bones?”
“If it had any bones, I ate them,” replied the kitten, composedly, as it washed its face after the meal. “But I don’t think that fish had any bones, because I didn’t feel them scratch my throat.”
“You were very greedy,” said the girl.
“I was very hungry,” replied the kitten.
The little pigs had stood huddled in a group, watching this scene with frightened eyes.
“Cats are dreadful creatures!” said one of them.
“I’m glad we are not fishes!” said another.
“Don’t worry,” Dorothy murmured, soothingly, “I’ll not let the kitten hurt you.”
Then she happened to remember that in a corner of her suit-case were one or two crackers that were left over from her luncheon on the train, and she went to the buggy and brought them. Eureka stuck up her nose at such food, but the tiny piglets squealed delightedly at the sight of the crackers and ate them up in a jiffy.