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saulted to Ozma's scalawagon. "What can I do for you, Ozma?" she said. "Better do something for yourself, Scraps. Go to the Style Shop and get yourself a new outfit. And help the bell-men through the turn-style. When you all look better, come back and see the fun." Scraps drew herself up importantly. "I'll see that those fellows behave themselves," she said. Hearing Ozma's voice, the bell-men stopped fight- ing and stood up at attention. They were a sorry sight, with their clothes all askew, and their whiskers stuck fast in molasses. They followed the beckoning Scraps, who took them to the Style Shop. When Scraps returned from the Style Shop, she was so proud of her new outfit that she rode on the roof of her scalawagon, so that everyone could see her. The bell-men, in neat suits of blue and gold, rode soberly beneath her. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "Now, good people," Ozma said, standing up in her Royal scalawagon, "we have some grand entertain- ment. I hope it will please you!" The people broke into cheers for their beloved Queen. Ozma and her party left their scalawagons and mounted to the terrace of Custard Court, where they might overlook the huge, colorful throng. On the terrace, they found Glinda and the Wizard. Glinda, looking her loveliest in a long red robe, with her long hair flowing over her shoulders, stood up to greet Ozma. "I want to thank you and the Wizard. The scala- wagons have made my people so happy! During the day, the children play fire-engine with them, and in the evening the old folks go riding in the country." The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman now joined the royal party. "My people enjoy their scalawagons, too," said the Tin Woodman. "This morning I saw a Winkie mother tucking her child into one for its forty winks." "My Munchkins have another use for theirs," put in the Scarecrow. "They mail their letters in them. It's the fastest service we've ever had." "How do they do it?" asked Ozma, looking inter- ested. "They just put their letter inside the scalawagon Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html and tell the car where to deliver it. In no time at all, the scalawagon is back-with an answer." "Well, if that doesn't beat all!" exclaimed Aunt Em. "Yes, the scalawagons are a wonderful gift to the people," said Glinda. "And as I was saying, I'd like to show my appreciation. So--look!" The party on the terrace bent to look down into the court. There, coming through the crowd, were the six Lollies and their Pops. They carried brimming buckets of water fairies on their heads. In the center of the courtyard they lowered the buckets and spread them with a swish. Glinda stood up and raised her hands. Instantly a circular brook was flowing there, with the water fairies bobbing on the surface. The people broke into a pandemonium of delight. They danced and shouted like mad. "They love it," said Ozma, giving Glinda a smile of thanks. "And it certainly adds to the beauty of the courtyard." When the crowd quieted down, the music of the brook could be heard. The people, recognizing a fa- miliar waltz, quickly found partners and danced. The small children formed a ring around the brook and danced, too. Then overhead, came flying the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html eighty-eight bell-men. Joining softly with the music, they played the "Waltz of the Bells." "My, aren't they all having a grand time!" said Aunt Em. "I declare, it makes me feel young enough to dance, too!" "What are we waiting for?" said Uncle Henry, ris- ing and offering Aunt Em his arm. The two went off to join the dancers. Just then Number Nine came onto the terrace. Going up to Jenny, he said, "May I have this dance?" Jenny blushed. "Go ahead, Jenny," spoke the Wizard. "For I mean to ask Ozma for this dance myself." The Tin Woodman put his hand over his heart. "That gives me courage to ask Glinda's kind per- mission for this dance," he said. The Scarecrow stepped up to Dorothy and bowed low. "Will you honor me, my dear?" "Why, I'd love to!" cried Dorothy, jumping to her feet. All the girls went down with their partners. The scalawagons were delighted at this party given in their honor. Rearing up on their hind wheels, they cavorted as merrily as the rest. Now there wasn't a body who wasn't dancing. Never had there been so much laughter and fun with- in the Emerald City. The Guardian of the Gate and Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html the Soldier with the Green Whiskers looked up from their game of marbles inside the city gate. Hearing the music, they put their arms on each other's shoulders and began to waltz. "Happy days!" said the Guardian. "What's happy about it?" asked a voice behind the Guardian. It was the Town Crier, crying with all his might. "They're all so gay, I've nothing to cry about!" he complained, and he felt so sorry for himself that he cried harder than ever. "That's right," said the Guardian. "Just sit down and have a good cry. It will make you feel better." "I don't want to feel better," said the Crier. "I'm happiest when I'm saddest. But I can't keep my feet from dancing to that music!" Still crying, he went dancing away. He came to Custard Court, and stood dancing on the edge of the crowd. Up on the terrace appeared the tall hall clock from the Wizard's tower. "Where's that boy?" grumbled the Clock. "He ought to be at work. Three and a half days late! Why, I've ticked myself black in the face, in all that time! I won't tick if he won't work. I'll just stop!" The minute the Clock stopped it heard the music of Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html the brook and the bells. They were merrily playing "The Dance of the Hours." The cranky old clock found its feet tapping on the terrace floor. "I can't stop dancing!" it cried, tapping its feet faster. "This is an outrage! There's work to be done. Three and a half days late!" Turning, the Clock fled from the terrace, across to the palace, and up the stairs to its corner. But even there the music could be heard, and the old Clock could not restrain its feet. "Three and a half--Help!" it cried, as it stood hop- ping and tapping to the merry tune. The End
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