The Royal Book of Oz
To tell the truth, they were anxious to spread abroad the tale of the morning's happenings.
Princess Orange Blossom, however, refused to depart. Magic or no magic, she had come to marry the Emperor, and she would not leave till the ceremony had been performed.
"But my dear old Lady, would you wish to marry a Scarecrow?" coaxed the Emperor.
"All men are Scarecrows," snapped the Princess sourly.
"Then why marry at all?" rumbled the Cowardly Lion, making a playful leap at her palanquin. This was too much. The Princess swooned on the spot, and the Scarecrow, taking advantage of her unconscious condition, ordered her chair bearers to carry her away as far and as fast as they could run.
"Now," said the Scarecrow when the last of the company had disappeared, "let us talk this over."
CHAPTER 21
THE ESCAPE FROM THE SILVER ISLAND
"Well!" gasped Dorothy, fanning herself with her hat, "I never was so s'prised in my life!"
"Nor I," exclaimed the Scarecrow. "The Grand Gheewizard will be suing you for parassault and battery. But how did it happen?"
"Well," began Dorothy, "as soon as the parasol opened, I flew up so fast that I could hardly breathe. Then, after I'd gone ever so far, it came to me that if the parasol went up when it was up, it would come down when it was down. I couldn't leave you all in such a fix—so I closed it, and—"
"Came down!" finished the Scarecrow with a wave of his hand. "You always do the right thing in the right place, my dear."
"It was lucky I hit the vase, wasn't it?" sighed Dorothy. "But I'm rather sorry about the Princes."
"Served 'em right," growled the Cowardly Lion. "They'll make very good pigs!"
"But who's to rule the island?" demanded Sir Hokus, turning his gaze reluctantly from the smoking dragonskin.
"This will require thought," said the Scarecrow pensively. "Let us all think."
"I doubt that I can ever think again." The Doubtful Dromedary wagged his head from side to side in a dazed fashion.
"Just leave it to our dear Karwan Bashi.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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