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Updated: June 4, 2025
Indeed, it is more natural for a frog to be big than for a Sawhorse to be alive." On being questioned, the Frogman told them the whole story of the loss of Cayke's highly prized dishpan and their adventures in search of it. When he came to tell of the Lavender Bear King and of the Little Pink Bear who could tell anything you wanted to know, his hearers became eager to see such interesting animals.
She threw out the coffee, which she suspected had been made by the time-saving method of pouring water on last night's grounds, and made a fresh pot of it. After that she inspected the tea towels, and getting a tin dishpan, set them to boil in it on the top of the range. "Enough to give him typhoid," she reflected.
The dove's shape had Ugu's evil disposition inside it, and that made the monster bird dangerous." The Frogman was looking sad because the bird's talons had torn his pretty clothes, but he bowed with much dignity at this well-deserved praise. Cayke, however, had squatted on the floor and was sobbing bitterly. "My precious dishpan is gone!" she wailed. "Gone, just as I had found it again!"
There was not a drop of water in the house nor a bit of wood, and Billy Louise knew perfectly well that the dishpan would have a greasy, unpleasant feeling under her fastidious little fingers. She sighed heavily. "Well, I s'pose I might just as well get to work at 'em," she said aloud, as was her habit being a child who had no playmates. "I hate to dread a thing I hate."
Now when Cayke the Cookie Cook raised such an outcry over the theft of her diamond-studded dishpan, the first thought of the people was to take her to the Frogman and inform him of the loss, thinking that of course he would tell her where to find it.
Her sleeves were rolled up, she wore an apron, and one hand dripped suds, demonstrating that it had just been taken from the dishpan. In the other, wiped more or less dry on the apron, she held a crumpled envelope. "Well!" she exclaimed, excitedly. "If some human bein's don't beat the Dutch then I don't know, that's all.
And the little Pink Bear answered, "She is in a hole in the ground a half mile away at your left." "Good gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Then she is not in Ugu's castle at all." "It is lucky we asked that question," said the Wizard, "for if we can find Ozma and rescue her, there will be no need for us to fight that wicked and dangerous magician." "Indeed!" said Cayke. "Then what about my dishpan?"
None of the smugglers know me intimately." "Unless Andy Foger should be with them," suggested Mr. Damon. "Oh, Ned can fool Andy any day. Come on, Mr. Whitford. We'll get the smugglers to-night, spoil their game, and rescue Ned. Somehow, I feel that we're going to succeed." "Bless my tin dishpan!" cried Mr. Damon. "I hope we do."
Then Cayke told her of the diamond-studded gold dishpan and how it had been mysteriously stolen from her house, after which she had discovered that she could no longer cook good cookies. So she had resolved to search until she found her dishpan again, because a Cookie cook who cannot cook good cookies is not of much use.
And in a far corner sat Ugu the Shoemaker, his feet lazily extended, his skinny hands clasped behind his head. He was leaning back at his ease and calmly smoking a long pipe. Around the magician was a sort of cage, seemingly made of golden bars set wide apart, and at his feet, also within the cage, reposed the long-sought diamond-studded dishpan of Cayke the Cookie Cook.
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