llen into a company of great magnificence. He had a
confused glimpse of silken clad courtiers, embroidered screens,
inlaid floors, and flashing silver lanterns, when there was a
thundering bang that hurled him halfway to the roof again. Falling to
a sitting position and still clinging to the bean pole, he saw two
giant kettle drums nearby, still vibrating from the terrible blows
they had received.

The company were staring at him solemnly, and as he attempted to
rise, they fell prostrate on their faces. Up flew the poor flimsy
Scarecrow again, such was the draught, and this time landed on his
face. He was beginning to feel terribly annoyed, but before he could
open his mouth or stand up, a deep voice boomed:

"He has come!"

"He has come!" shrilled the rest of the company, thumping their heads
on the stone floor. The language seemed strange to the Scarecrow, but
oddly enough, he could understand it perfectly. Keeping a tight grasp
on the bean pole, he gazed at the prostrate assemblage, too
astonished to speak. They looked exactly like the pictures of some
Chinamen he had seen in one of Dorothy's picture books back in Oz,
but instead of being yellow, their skin was a curious gray, and the
hair of old and young alike was silver and worn in long, stiff
queues. Before he had time to observe any more, an old, old courtier
hobbled forward and beckoned imperiously to a page at the door. The
page immediately unfurled a huge silk umbrella and, running forward,
held it over the Scarecrow's head.

"Welcome home, sublime and noble Ancestor! Welcome, honorable and
exalted Sir." The old gentleman made several deep salaams.

"Welcome, immortal and illustrious Ancestor! Welcome, ancient and
serene Father!" cried the others, banging their heads hard on the
floor--so hard that their queues flew into the air.

"Ancestor! Father!" mumbled the Scarecrow in a puzzled voice. Then,
collecting himself somewhat, he made a deep bow, and sweeping off his
hat with a truly royal gesture began: "I am indeed honored--" But he
got no farther. The silken clad courtiers sprang to their feet in a
frenzy of joy. A dozen seized him bodily and carried him to a great
silver throne room.

"The same beautiful voice!" cried the ancient gentleman, clasping his
hands in an ecstasy of feeling.

"It is he! The Emperor! The Emperor has returned! Long live the
Emperor!" shouted everyone at once. The confusion grew worse and
worse.

"Ancestor! Father! Empe