t add to its
usefulness, nor do I consider it as beautiful as the bright dishpans of
tin one usually sees. No yellow color is ever so handsome as the
silver sheen of tin," and he turned to look at his tin legs and body
with approval.

"I cannot quite agree with you there," replied the Scarecrow. "My
straw stuffing has a light yellow color, and it is not only pretty to
look at, but it crunkles most delightfully when I move."

"Let us admit that all colors are good in their proper places," said
the Tin Woodman, who was too kind-hearted to quarrel, "but you must
agree with me that a dishpan that is yellow is unnatural. What shall
we do with this one, which we have just found?"

"Let us carry it back to the Emerald City," suggested the Scarecrow.
"Some of our friends might like to have it for a foot-bath, and in
using it that way, its golden color and sparkling ornaments would not
injure its usefulness."

So they went away and took the jeweled dishpan with them. And after
wandering through the country for a day or so longer, they learned the
news that Ozma had been found. Therefore they straightway returned to
the Emerald City and presented the dishpan to Princess Ozma as a token
of their joy that she had been restored to them. Ozma promptly gave
the diamond-studded gold dishpan to Cayke the Cookie Cook, who was
delighted at regaining her lost treasure that she danced up and down in
glee and then threw her skinny arms around Ozma's neck and kissed her
gratefully. Cayke's mission was now successfully accomplished, but she
was having such a good time at the Emerald City that she seemed in no
hurry to go back to the Country of the Yips.

It was several weeks after the dishpan had been restored to the Cookie
Cook when one day, as Dorothy was seated in the royal gardens with Trot
and Betsy beside her, a gray dove came flying down and alighted at the
girl's feet.

"I am Ugu the Shoemaker," said the dove in a soft, mourning voice, "and
I have come to ask you to forgive me for the great wrong I did in
stealing Ozma and the magic that belonged to her and to others."

"Are you sorry, then?" asked Dorothy, looking hard at the bird.

"I am VERY sorry," declared Ugu. "I've been thinking over my misdeeds
for a long time, for doves have little else to do but think, and I'm
surprised that I was such a wicked man and had so little regard for the
rights of others. I am now convinced that even had I succeeded in
making myse