ain looking as this
Hank, but Betsy loved him dearly because he was faithful and steady and
not nearly so stupid as most mules are considered to be. Betsy had a
saddle for Hank, and he declared she would ride on his back, an
arrangement approved by the Wizard because it left only four of the
party to ride on the seats of the Red Wagon--Dorothy and Button-Bright
and Trot and himself.

An old sailor man who had one wooden leg came to see them off and
suggested that they put a supply of food and blankets in the Red Wagon
inasmuch as they were uncertain how long they would be gone. This
sailor man was called Cap'n Bill. He was a former friend and comrade
of Trot and had encountered many adventures in company with the little
girl. I think he was sorry he could not go with her on this trip, but
Glinda the Sorceress had asked Cap'n Bill to remain in the Emerald City
and take charge of the royal palace while everyone else was away, and
the one-legged sailor had agreed to do so.

They loaded the back end of the Red Wagon with everything they thought
they might need, and then they formed a procession and marched from the
palace through the Emerald City to the great gates of the wall that
surrounded this beautiful capital of the Land of Oz. Crowds of
citizens lined the streets to see them pass and to cheer them and wish
them success, for all were grieved over Ozma's loss and anxious that
she be found again. First came the Cowardly Lion, then the Patchwork
Girl riding upon the Woozy, then Betsy Bobbin on her mule Hank, and
finally the Sawhorse drawing the Red Wagon, in which were seated the
Wizard and Dorothy and Button-Bright and Trot. No one was obliged to
drive the Sawhorse, so there were no reins to his harness; one had only
to tell him which way to go, fast or slow, and he understood perfectly.

It was about this time that a shaggy little black dog who had been
lying asleep in Dorothy's room in the palace woke up and discovered he
was lonesome. Everything seemed very still throughout the great
building, and Toto--that was the little dog's name--missed the
customary chatter of the three girls. He never paid much attention to
what was going on around him, and although he could speak, he seldom
said anything, so the little dog did not know about Ozma's loss or that
everyone had gone in search of her. But he liked to be with people,
and especially with his own mistress, Dorothy, and having yawned and
stretched himself