for some reason or other you've missed your guess.
You're not a concert; you're a nuisance."

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast," asserted the
phonograph sadly.

"Then we're not savages. I advise you to go home and beg the Magician's
pardon."

"Never! He'd smash me."

"That's what we shall do, if you stay here," Ojo declared.

"Run along, Vic, and bother some one else," advised Scraps. "Find some
one who is real wicked, and stay with him till he repents. In that way
you can do some good in the world."

The music thing turned silently away and trotted down a side path,
toward a distant Munchkin village.

"Is that the way we go?" asked Bungle anxiously.

"No," said Ojo; "I think we shall keep straight ahead, for this path is
the widest and best. When we come to some house we will inquire the way
to the Emerald City."

Chapter Eight

The Foolish Owl and the Wise Donkey

On they went, and half an hour's steady walking brought them to a house
somewhat better than the two they had already passed. It stood close to
the roadside and over the door was a sign that read: "Miss Foolish Owl
and Mr. Wise Donkey: Public Advisers."

When Ojo read this sign aloud Scraps said laughingly: "Well, here is a
place to get all the advice we want, maybe more than we need. Let's go
in."

The boy knocked at the door.

"Come in!" called a deep bass voice.

So they opened the door and entered the house, where a little
light-brown donkey, dressed in a blue apron and a blue cap, was engaged
in dusting the furniture with a blue cloth. On a shelf over the window
sat a great blue owl with a blue sunbonnet on her head, blinking her
big round eyes at the visitors.

"Good morning," said the donkey, in his deep voice, which seemed bigger
than he was. "Did you come to us for advice?"

"Why, we came, anyhow," replied Scraps, "and now we are here we may as
well have some advice. It's free, isn't it?"

"Certainly," said the donkey. "Advice doesn't cost anything--unless you
follow it. Permit me to say, by the way, that you are the queerest lot
of travelers that ever came to my shop. Judging you merely by
appearances, I think you'd better talk to the Foolish Owl yonder."

They turned to look at the bird, which fluttered its wings and stared
back at them with its big eyes.

"Hoot-ti-toot-ti-toot!" cried the owl.

"Fiddle-cum-foo,
Howdy-do?
Riddle-cum, tiddle-cum,
Too-ra-la-loo!"

"That beats y