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Mount gave a round double rap, chewed his grass-stem, considered, then rapped again, humming to himself in an under-tone: "Is the old fox in? Is the old fox out? Is the old fox gone to Glo-ry? Oh, he's just come in, But he's just gone out, And I hope you like my sto-ry! Tink-a-diddle-diddle-diddle, Tink-a-diddle-diddle-dum " "Rap louder," I said.

"It is a long sto-ry," replied Tik-Tok, "but I'll tell it in a few words. Af-ter you had gone in search of your broth-er, Oz-ma saw you wan-der-ing in strange lands when-ev-er she looked in her mag-ic pic-ture, and she also saw your broth-er in the Nome King's cavern; so she sent me to tell you where to find your broth-er and told me to help you if I could.

The man gave me an evil look. "I don't know you," he said, "but I could guess your business." And to Mount: "What do you want?" "We want to know," said I, "whether Captain Walter Butler is lodging here?" "He was," said Beacraft, grimly; "he left yesterday." "And I hope you like my sto-ry!"

"It is a long sto-ry," replied the copper man; "but I will tell it to you brief-ly. I was pur-chased from Smith & Tin-ker, my man-u-fac-tur-ers, by a cru-el King of Ev, named Ev-ol-do, who used to beat all his serv-ants un-til they died. How-ev-er, he was not a-ble to kill me, be-cause I was not a-live, and one must first live in or-der to die.

She found this quite a task, as you may imagine if you have ever tried to wind a clock, but the machine man's first words were to assure Dorothy that he would now run for at least twenty-four hours. "You did not wind me much, at first," he calmly said, "and I told you that long sto-ry a-bout King Ev-ol-do; so it is no won-der that I ran down."