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life.”

At these words they all looked around, only to find that they were indeed surrounded by a field of tall stalks, every stalk bearing at its top a gigantic sunflower. And not only were these flowers almost blinding in their vivid hues of red and gold, but each one whirled around upon its stalk like a miniature windmill, completely dazzling the vision of the beholders and so mystifying them that they knew not which way to turn.

β€œIt’s witchcraft!” exclaimed Tip.

While they paused, hesitating and wondering, the Tin Woodman uttered a cry of impatience and advanced with swinging axe to cut down the stalks before him. But now the sunflowers suddenly stopped their rapid whirling, and the travelers plainly saw a girl’s face appear in the center of each flower. These lovely faces looked upon the astonished band with mocking smiles, and then burst into a chorus of merry laughter at the dismay their appearance caused.

β€œStop! stop!” cried Tip, seizing the Woodman’s arm; β€œthey’re alive! they’re girls!”

At that moment the flowers began whirling again, and the faces faded away and were lost in the rapid revolutions.

The Tin Woodman dropped his axe and sat down upon the ground.

β€œIt would be heartless to chop down those pretty creatures,” said he, despondently. β€œand yet I do not know how else we can proceed upon our way.”

β€œThey looked to me strangely like the faces of the Army of Revolt,” mused the Scarecrow. β€œBut I cannot conceive how the girls could have followed us here so quickly.”

β€œI believe it’s magic,” said Tip, positively, β€œand that someone is playing a trick upon us. I’ve known old Mombi do things like that before. Probably it’s nothing more than an illusion, and there are no sunflowers here at all.”

β€œThen let us shut our eyes and walk forward,” suggested the Woodman.

β€œExcuse me,” replied the Scarecrow. β€œMy eyes are not painted to shut. Because you happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine we are all built in the same way.”

β€œAnd the eyes of the Sawhorse are knot eyes,” said Jack, leaning forward to examine them.

β€œNevertheless, you must ride quickly forward,” commanded Tip, β€œand we will follow after you and so try to escape. My eyes are already so dazzled that I can scarcely see.”

So the Pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and Tip grasped the stub tail of the Sawhorse and followed with closed eyes. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman brought up the rear, and before they had gone many yards a joyful shout from Jack announced that the way was clear before them.

Then all paused to look backward, but not a trace of the field of sunflowers remained.

More cheerfully, now they proceeded upon their Journey; but old Mombi had so changed the appearance of the landscape that they would surely have been lost had not the Scarecrow wisely concluded to take their direction from the sun. For no witchcraft could change the course of the sun, and it was therefore a safe guide.

However, other difficulties lay before them. The Sawhorse stepped into a rabbit hole and fell to the ground. The Pumpkinhead was pitched high into the air, and his history would probably have ended at that exact moment had not the Tin Woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin as it descended and saved it from injury.

Tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and replaced Jack upon his feet. But the Sawhorse did not escape so easily. For when his leg was pulled from the rabbit hole it was found to be broken short off, and must be replaced or repaired before he could go a step farther.

β€œThis is quite serious,” said the Tin Woodman. β€œIf there were trees near by I might soon manufacture another leg for this animal; but I cannot see even a shrub for miles around.”

β€œAnd there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land of Oz,” added the Scarecrow, disconsolately.

β€œThen what shall we do?” enquired the boy.

β€œI suppose I must start my brains working,” replied his Majesty the Scarecrow; β€œfor experience has taught me that I can do anything if I but take time to think it out.”

β€œLet us all think,” said Tip; β€œand perhaps we shall find a way to repair the Sawhorse.”

So they sat in a row upon the grass and began to think, while the Sawhorse occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb.

β€œDoes it hurt?” asked the Tin Woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice.

β€œNot in the least,” returned the Sawhorse; β€œbut my pride is injured to find that my anatomy is so brittle.”

For a time the little group remained in silent thought. Presently the Tin Woodman raised his head and looked over the fields.

β€œWhat sort of creature is that which approaches us?” he asked, wonderingly.

The others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward them the most extraordinary object they had ever beheld. It advanced quickly and noiselessly over the soft grass and in a few minutes stood before the adventurers and regarded them with an astonishment equal to their own.

The Scarecrow was calm under all circumstances.

β€œGood morning!” he said, politely.

The stranger removed his hat with a flourish, bowed very low, and then responded:

β€œGood morning, one and all. I hope you are, as an aggregation, enjoying excellent health. Permit me to present my card.”

With this courteous speech it extended a card toward the Scarecrow, who accepted it, turned it over and over, and handed it with a shake of his head to Tip.

The boy read aloud:

β€œMr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T.E.”

β€œDear me!” ejaculated the Pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently.

β€œHow very peculiar!” said the Tin Woodman.

Tip’s eyes were round and wondering, and the Sawhorse uttered a sigh and turned away its head.

β€œAre you really a Woggle-Bug?” enquired the Scarecrow.

β€œMost certainly, my dear sir!” answered the stranger, briskly. β€œIs not my name upon the card?”

β€œIt is,” said the Scarecrow. β€œBut may I ask what β€˜H. M.’ stands for?”

β€œβ€Šβ€˜H. M.’ means Highly Magnified,” returned the Woggle-Bug, proudly.

β€œOh, I see.” The Scarecrow viewed the stranger critically. β€œAnd are you,

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