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Then the news was drowned in the thunder of the anthem, and the organ dominating all. "He looks a stout and be-e-e-fy o-o-old fel-low, this A-a-a-bot of St. Omer, don't you think? Glory, glo-o-ry. Takes his meals well, likes his qu-a-a-art of Rhenish or his Burgundy to swell his jolly paunch. A-a-a-men!" Or, as it might be: "Are you coming are you coming o-o-out to-night?
He is nice fellow? I no meeting hime?" "The best fellow that ever lived, God bless him!" exclaimed the young man, enthusiastically. "He has the temperament of genius, and he isn't always there when you want him I mean, he isn't always in the right mood; but he's a splendid specimen of a man, and the most likeable fellow I ever knew poor fellow!" "Why you say 'poor fel-low'? He is no happy, no?"
"Then you advise me to admit Shaggy's brother?" inquired Ozma. "Well, we can't afford to lose our Shaggy Man, can we?" "No, indeed!" returned Ozma. "What do you say, Wizard?" "I'm getting my magic ready to transport them all." "And you, Tik-Tok?" "Shag-gy's broth-er is a good fel-low, and we can't spare Shag-gy." "So, then; the question is settled," decided Ozma. "Perform your magic, Wizard!"
"The ir-on gi-ant is a fine fel-low," said Tiktok, "and works as stead-i-ly as a clock. He was made for the Nome King by Smith & Tin-ker, who made me, and his du-ty is to keep folks from find-ing the un-der-ground pal-ace. Is he not a great work of art?" "Can he think, and speak, as you do?" asked Ozma, regarding the giant with wondering eyes.
"One relief you must have had in the galleries," retorted Easelmann; "your all-round shirt-collar wouldn't choke you quite so much when your head was cocked back." Adonis-in-bag adjusted his polished all-rounder with a delicately gloved finger, and declared that the painter was "a jol-ly fel-low."
Glasses were handed around, and everybody on the platform drank Angelo's health, while the house bellowed forth in song: For he's a jolly good fel-low, For he's a jolly good fel-low, For he's a jolly good fe-el-low, Which nobody can deny. Tom Driscoll drank. It was his second glass, for he had drunk Angelo's the moment that Angelo had set it down.
"I would be quite content," said the Scarecrow to Tiktok, "were only the Tin Woodman with us. But it breaks my heart to leave him behind." "He was a fine fel-low," replied Tiktok, "al-though his ma-ter-i-al was not ve-ry du-ra-ble." "Oh, tin is an excellent material," the Scarecrow hastened to say; "and if anything ever happened to poor Nick Chopper he was always easily soldered.
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