"Why, he sees a house over there!" cried the
little girl. "I wonder we didn't notice it
ourselves. Let's go and ask the people how to
get 'cross the river."

A quarter of a mile along the bank stood a
small, round house, painted bright red, and as
it was on their side of the river they hurried
toward it. A chubby little man, dressed all in
red, came out to greet them, and with him were
two children, also in red costumes. The man's
eyes were big and staring as he examined the
Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl, and the
children shyly hid behind him and peeked
timidly at Toto.

"Do you live here, my good man?" asked the
Scarecrow.

"I think I do, Most Mighty Magician," replied
the Quadling, bowing low; "but whether I'm awake
or dreaming I can't be positive, so I'm not sure
where I live. If you'll kindly pinch me I'll find
out all about it!"

"You're awake," said Dorothy, "and this is no
magician, but just the Scarecrow."

"But he's alive," protested the man, "and he