ust lost."

"Perhaps you will, and perhaps you won't," murmured Billina, calmly.
"I may surprise you by guessing right."

"Guessing right?" snapped the King. "How could you guess right, where
your betters have failed, you stupid fowl?"

Billina did not care to answer this question, and a moment later the
doors flew open and Dorothy entered, leading the little Prince Evring
by the hand.

The Scarecrow welcomed the girl with a close embrace, and he would have
embraced Evring, too, in his delight. But the little Prince was shy,
and shrank away from the painted Scarecrow because he did not yet know
his many excellent qualities.

But there was little time for the friends to talk, because the
Scarecrow must now enter the palace. Dorothy's success had greatly
encouraged him, and they both hoped he would manage to make at least
one correct guess.

However, he proved as unfortunate as the others except Dorothy, and
although he took a good deal of time to select his objects, not one did
the poor Scarecrow guess aright.

So he became a solid gold card-receiver, and the beautiful but terrible
palace awaited its next visitor.

"It's all over," remarked the King, with a sigh of satisfaction; "and
it has been a very amusing performance, except for the one good guess
the Kansas girl made. I am richer by a great many pretty ornaments."

"It is my turn, now," said Billina, briskly.

"Oh, I'd forgotten you," said the King. "But you needn't go if you
don't wish to. I will be generous, and let you off."

"No you won't," replied the hen. "I insist upon having my guesses, as
you promised."

"Then go ahead, you absurd feathered fool!" grumbled the King, and he
caused the opening that led to the palace to appear once more.

"Don't go, Billina," said Dorothy, earnestly. "It isn't easy to guess
those orn'ments, and only luck saved me from being one myself. Stay
with me and we'll go back to the Land of Ev together. I'm sure this
little Prince will give us a home."

"Indeed I will," said Evring, with much dignity.

"Don't worry, my dear," cried Billina, with a cluck that was meant for
a laugh. "I may not be human, but I'm no fool, if I AM a chicken."

"Oh, Billina!" said Dorothy, "you haven't been a chicken in a long
time. Not since you--you've been--grown up."

"Perhaps that's true," answered Billina, thoughtfully. "But if a
Kansas farmer sold me to some one, what would he call me?--a hen or a
chicken!"

"You a