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The Royal Book of Oz


"Whatever that is," the Scarecrow whispered in Dorothy's ear.

"And," the Professor frowned severely on the Scarecrow, "with your Majesty's permission, I shall start at once!"

"Please do," said the Scarecrow with a wave toward the door, "and we will go on with the party!"

Scraps, the Patch Work Girl who had been staring fixedly at the Professor with her silver suspender button eyes, now sprang to her feet:

"What is a genealogist?
It's something no one here has missed;
What puts such notions in your head?
Turn out your toes—or go to bed!"

she shouted gayly, then catching Ozma's disapproving glance, fell over backwards.

"I don't understand it at all," said Jack Pumpkinhead in a depressed voice. "I'm afraid my head's too ripe."

"Nor I," said Tik-Tok, the copper clock-work man. "Please wind me up a lit-tle tight-ter Doro-thy, I want to think!"

Dorothy obligingly took a key suspended from a hook on his back and wound him up under his left arm. Everybody began to talk at once and, what with

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