as
she reached sixty, the Poke pushed back his red nightcap and shouted:

"Arrest!"

"Arrest!" shouted all the other Pokes so loud that the Cowardly Lion
roused himself with a start, and the pet snails stuck out their
heads. "A rest? A rest is not what we want! We want breakfast!"
growled the lion irritably and started to roar, but a yawn spoiled
it. (One simply cannot look fierce by yawning.)

"You--" began the Poke. But Dorothy could not stand hearing the same
slow speech again. Putting her fingers in her ears, she shouted back:

"What for?"

The Pokes regarded her sternly. Some even opened both eyes. Then the
one who had first addressed them, covering a terrific gape with one
hand, pointed with the other to a sign on a large post at the corner
of the street.

"Speed limit 1/4 mile an hour" said the sign.

"We're arrested for speeding!" shouted Dorothy in the Cowardly Lion's
ear.

"Did you say feeding?" asked the poor lion, waking up with a start.
"If I go to sleep again before I'm fed, I'll starve to death!"

"Then keep awake," yawned Dorothy. By this time, the Pokes had
surrounded them and were waving them imperiously ahead. They looked
so threatening that Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion began to creep in
the direction of a gloomy, gray castle. Of the journey neither of
them remembered a thing, for with the gaping and yawning Pokes it was
almost impossible to keep awake. But they must have walked in their
sleep, for the next thing Dorothy knew, a harsh voice called slowly:

"Poke--him!"

Greatly alarmed, Dorothy opened her eyes. They were in a huge stone
hall hung all over with rusty armor, and seated on a great stone
chair, snoring so loudly that all the steel helmets rattled, was a
Knight. The tallest and crossest of the Pokes rushed at him with a
long poker, giving him such a shove that he sprawled to the floor.

"So--" yawned the Cowardly Lion, awakened by the clatter, "Knight has
fallen!"

"Prisoners--Sir Hokus!" shouted the Chief Poker, lifting the Knight's
plume and speaking into the helmet as if he were telephoning.

The Knight arose with great dignity, and after straightening his
armor, let down his visor, and Dorothy saw a kind, timid face with
melancholy blue eyes--not at all Pokish, as she explained to Ozma
later.

"What means this unwonted clamor?" asked Sir Hokus, peering curiously
at the prisoners.

"We're sorry to waken you," said Dorothy politely, "but could you
please g