ifth year of your Majesty's illustrious and useful age."

"Eighty five!" gasped the Scarecrow, staring in dismay at the gray,
wrinkled face of the old Silverman. "Now see here, Chew Chew, are you
sure of that?"

"Quite sure, Immortal and Honored Master!"

The Scarecrow could not help but be convinced of the truth of the
Grand Chew Chew's story. The pole in the Munchkin farmer's cornfield
was none other than the magic beanstalk, and he, thrust on the pole
by the farmer to scare away the crows, had received the spirit of the
Emperor Chang Wang Woe. "Which accounts for my cleverness," he
thought gloomily. Now, surely he should have been pleased, for he had
come in search of a family, but the acquisition of an empire, sons
and grandsons, and old age, all in a trice, fairly took his breath
away.

"Does the prophecy say anything about restoring my imperial person?"
he asked anxiously, for the thought of looking like Chew Chew was not
a cheerful one.

"Alas, no!" sighed the Grand Chew Chew sorrowfully. "But we have very
clever wizards on the Island, and I shall set them at work on the
problem at once."

"Now don't be in such a rush," begged the Scarecrow, secretly
determined to lock up the wizards at the first opportunity. "I'm
rather fond of this shape. You see, it requires no food and never
grows tired--or old!"

"The royal robes will in a measure conceal it," murmured the Grand
Chew Chew politely, and clapped his hands. A little servitor bounced
into the hall.

"A royal robe, Quick Silver, for his Radiant Highness," snapped the
Grand Chew Chew. In a moment Quick Silver had returned with a
magnificent purple satin robe embroidered in silver threads and heavy
with jewels, and a hat of silver cloth with upturned brim. The
Scarecrow wrapped himself in the purple robe, took off his old
Munchkin hat, and substituted the Imperial headpiece.

"How do I look, Chew?" he asked anxiously.

"Quite like your old Imperial Self, except--" The old Prime Minister
ran unsteadily out of the room. There was a muffled scream from the
hall, and the next instant he returned with a long, shiny, silver
queue which he had evidently clipped from the head of one of the
servants. Removing the Scarecrow's hat, he pinned the queue to the
back, set it on the Scarecrow's head, and stood regarding him with
great satisfaction. "Ah, if the Empress could only see you!" he
murmured rapturously.

"Where--where is she?" asked the Scarecrow, looking