Finally she was dressed, and when she went into the sitting-room
there was Uncle Henry in his blue satin, walking gravely up and down
the room. He had trimmed his beard and mustache and looked very
dignified and respectable.

"Tell me, Dorothy," he said; "do all the men here wear duds like these?"

"Yes," she replied; "all 'cept the Scarecrow and the Shaggy Man--and
of course the Tin Woodman and Tiktok, who are made of metal. You'll
find all the men at Ozma's court dressed just as you are--only perhaps
a little finer."

"Henry, you look like a play-actor," announced Aunt Em, looking at her
husband critically.

"An' you, Em, look more highfalutin' than a peacock," he replied.

"I guess you're right," she said regretfully; "but we're helpless
victims of high-toned royalty."

Dorothy was much amused.

"Come with me," she said, "and I'll show you 'round the palace."

She took them through the beautiful rooms and introduced them to all
the people they chanced to meet. Also she showed them her own pretty
rooms, which were not far from their own.

"So it's all true," said Aunt Em, wide-eyed with amazement, "and what