keeping us for some ceremony," the Wizard answered,
reflectively; "but there is no doubt they intend to kill us as dead as
possible in a short time."

"As dead as poss'ble would be pretty dead, wouldn't it?" asked Dorothy.

"Yes, my dear. But we have no need to worry about that just now. Let us
examine our prison and see what it is like."

The space underneath the roof, where they stood, permitted them to see
on all sides of the tall building, and they looked with much curiosity
at the city spread out beneath them. Everything visible was made of
wood, and the scene seemed stiff and extremely unnatural.

From their platform a stair descended into the house, and the children
and the Wizard explored it after lighting a lantern to show them the
way. Several stories of empty rooms rewarded their search, but nothing
more; so after a time they came back to the platform again. Had there
been any doors or windows in the lower rooms, or had not the boards of
the house been so thick and stout, escape would have been easy; but to
remain down below was like being in a cellar or the hold of a ship, and
they did not like the darkness or the damp smell.

In this country, as in all others they had visited underneath the
earth's surface, there was no night, a constant and strong light coming
from some unknown source. Looking out, they could see into some of the
houses near them, where there were open windows in abundance, and were
able to mark the forms of the wooden Gargoyles moving about in their
dwellings.

"This seems to be their time of rest," observed the Wizard. "All people
need rest, even if they are made of wood, and as there is no night here
they select a certain time of the day in which to sleep or doze."

"I feel sleepy myself," remarked Zeb, yawning.

"Why, where's Eureka?" cried Dorothy, suddenly.

They all looked around, but the kitten was no place to be seen.

"She's gone out for a walk," said Jim, gruffly.

"Where? On the roof?" asked the girl.

"No; she just dug her claws into the wood and climbed down the sides of
this house to the ground."

"She couldn't climb _down_, Jim," said Dorothy. "To climb means to go
up."

"Who said so?" demanded the horse.

"My school-teacher said so; and she knows a lot, Jim."

"To 'climb down' is sometimes used as a figure of speech," remarked the
Wizard.

"Well, this was a figure of a cat," said Jim, "and she _went_ down,
anyhow, whether she climbed or crept."

"De