p your mind to it."

"It's hard luck," replied her aunt, looking around with an awed
expression; "but folks can get used to anything, if they try. Eh,
Henry?"

"Why, as to that," said Uncle Henry, slowly, "I b'lieve in takin'
what's pervided us, an' askin' no questions. I've traveled some, Em,
in my time, and you hain't; an' that makes a difference atween us."

Then Dorothy showed them through the rooms. The first was a handsome
sitting-room, with windows opening upon the rose gardens. Then came
separate bedrooms for Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, with a fine bathroom
between them. Aunt Em had a pretty dressing room, besides, and Dorothy
opened the closets and showed several exquisite costumes that had been
provided for her aunt by the royal dressmakers, who had worked all
night to get them ready. Everything that Aunt Em could possibly need
was in the drawers and closets, and her dressing-table was covered with
engraved gold toilet articles.

Uncle Henry had nine suits of clothes, cut in the popular Munchkin
fashion, with knee-breeches, silk stockings, and low shoes with jeweled
buckles. The hats to match these costumes had pointed tops and wide
brims with small gold bells around the edges. His shirts were of fine
linen with frilled bosoms, and his vests were richly embroidered with
colored silks.

Uncle Henry decided that he would first take a bath and then dress
himself in a blue satin suit that had caught his fancy. He accepted
his good fortune with calm composure and refused to have a servant to
assist him. But Aunt Em was "all of a flutter," as she said, and it
took Dorothy and Jellia Jamb, the housekeeper, and two maids a long
time to dress her and do up her hair and get her "rigged like a
popinjay," as she quaintly expressed it. She wanted to stop and admire
everything that caught her eye, and she sighed continually and declared
that such finery was too good for an old country woman, and that she
never thought she would have to "put on airs" at her time of life.

Finally she was dressed, and when she went into the sitting-room there
was Uncle Henry in his blue satin, walking gravely up and down the
room. He had trimmed his beard and mustache and looked very dignified
and respectable.

"Tell me, Dorothy," he said; "do all the men here wear duds like these?"

"Yes," she replied; "all 'cept the Scarecrow and the Shaggy Man--and of
course the Tin Woodman and Tiktok, who are made of metal. You'll find