"That does not sound especially pleasant," said the little man, looking
at the one with the star uneasily. "But never mind. I'll beat Old
Prickly, all right."

"My name is Gwig," said the Sorcerer, turning his heartless, cruel eyes
upon his rival. "Let me see you equal the sorcery I am about to perform."

He waved a thorny hand and at once the tinkling of bells was heard,
playing sweet music. Yet, look where she would, Dorothy could
discover no bells at all in the great glass hall.

The Mangaboo people listened, but showed no great interest. It was
one of the things Gwig usually did to prove he was a sorcerer.

Now was the Wizard's turn, so he smiled upon the assemblage and asked:

"Will somebody kindly loan me a hat?"

No one did, because the Mangaboos did not wear hats, and Zeb had lost
his, somehow, in his flight through the air.

"Ahem!" said the Wizard, "will somebody please loan me a handkerchief?"

But they had no handkerchiefs, either.

"Very good," remarked the Wizard. "I'll use my own hat, if you
please. Now, good people, observe me carefully. You see, there is
nothing up my sleeve and nothing concealed about my person. Also, my
hat is quite empty." He took off his hat and held it upside down,
shaking it briskly.