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City. May I inquire who you are, and what is your business?"

"My name is Jack Pumpkinhead," returned the other, smilingly; "but as to my
business, I haven't the least idea in the world what it is."

The Guardian of the Gates looked surprised, and shook his head as if
dissatisfied with the reply.

"What are you, a man or a pumpkin?" he asked, politely.

"Both, if you please," answered Jack.

"And this wooden horse -- is it alive?" questioned the Guardian.

The horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at Jack. Then it gave a
prance and brought one leg down on the Guardian's toes.

"Ouch!" cried the man; "I'm sorry I asked that question. But the answer is
most convincing. Have you any errand, sir, in the Emerald City?"

"It seems to me that I have," replied the Pumpkinhead, seriously; "but I
cannot think what it is. My father knows all about it, but he is not here."

"This is a strange affair very strange!" declared the Guardian. "But you
seem harmless. Folks do not smile so delightfully when they mean mischief."