Next minute he came to a sharp stop. A board had shot out and closed off the passageway. So sudden was the stop that the Scarecrow was tossed violently upward. While he endeavored to regain his balance the two Middlings eyed him curiously.
"So this is the kind of thing they grow on top," said one, holding a lantern close to the Scarecrow's head.
"Toll, Toll!" droned the other, holding out a horribly twisted hand.
"One moment, your Royal Middleness!" cried the Scarecrow, backing as far away from the lantern as he could, for with a straw stuffing one cannot be too careful of fire. He felt in his pocket for an emerald he had picked up in the Emerald City a few days before and handed it gingerly to the Muddy monarch.
"Why do you call me Middleness?" the King demanded angrily, taking the emerald.
"Is your kingdom not in the middle of the earth and are you not a royalty? What could be more proper than Royal Middleness?" asked the Scarecrow, flecking the dust from his hat.
Now that he had a better view he saw that the two were entirely men of mud, and very roughly put together. Dried grass hair stood erect upon each
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