the river bank, found a
ferryman who lived all alone in a little yellow house.

This ferryman was a Winkie with a very small head and a very large
body. He was sitting in his doorway as the travelers approached him and
did not even turn his head to look at them.

"Good evening," said the Frogman.

The ferryman made no reply.

"We would like some supper and the privilege of sleeping in your house
until morning," continued the Frogman. "At daybreak we would like some
breakfast and then we would like to have you row us across the river."

The ferryman neither moved nor spoke. He sat in his doorway and looked
straight ahead.

"I think he must be deaf and dumb," Cayke whispered to her companion.
Then she stood directly in front of the ferryman and putting her mouth
close to his ear she yelled as loudly as she could:

"Good evening!"

The ferryman scowled.

"Why do you yell at me, woman?" he asked.

"Can you hear what I say?" she asked in her ordinary tone of voice.

"Of course," replied the man.

"Then why didn't you answer the Frogman?"

"Because," said the ferryman, "I don't understand the frog language."

"He speaks the same words that I do and in the same way," declared
Cayke.

"Perhaps," replied the ferryman; "but to me his voice sounded like a
frog's croak. I know that in the Land of Oz animals can speak our
language, and so can the birds and bugs and fishes; but in _my_ ears
they sound merely like growls and chirps and croaks."

"Why is that?" asked the Cookie Cook in surprise.

"Once, many years ago, I cut the tail off a fox which had taunted me;
and I stole some birds' eggs from a nest to make an omelet with, and
also I pulled a fish from the river and left it lying on the bank to
gasp for lack of water until it died. I don't know why I did those
wicked things, but I did them. So the Emperor of the Winkies--who is the
Tin Woodman and has a very tender tin heart--punished me by denying me
any communication with beasts, birds or fishes. I cannot understand them
when they speak to me, although I know that other people can do so, nor
can the creatures understand a word I say to them. Every time I meet one
of them I am reminded of my former cruelty, and it makes me very
unhappy."

"Really," said Cayke, "I'm sorry for you, although the Tin Woodman is
not to blame for punishing you."

"What is he mumbling about?" asked the Frogman.

[Illustration]

"He is talking to me, but you don't understand