ed Ku-Klip cheerfully; "it is not likely
that you will ever meet the fellow. And, if you should meet him, he
doesn't know who he is made of, for I never told him the secret of his
manufacture. Indeed, you are the only ones who know of it, and you may
keep the secret to yourselves, if you wish to."

"Never mind Chopfyt," said the Scarecrow. "Our business now is to find
poor Nimmie Amee and let her choose her tin husband. To do that, it
seems, from the information Ku-Klip has given us, we must travel to
Mount Munch."

"If that's the programme, let us start at once," suggested Woot.

So they all went outside, where they found Polychrome dancing about
among the trees and talking with the birds and laughing as merrily as if
she had not lost her Rainbow and so been separated from all her fairy
sisters.

They told her they were going to Mount Munch, and she replied:

"Very well; I am as likely to find my Rainbow there as here, and any
other place is as likely as there. It all depends on the weather. Do you
think it looks like rain?"

They shook their heads, and Polychrome laughed again and danced on after
them when they resumed their journey.

The Invisible Country

[Illustration]

CHAPTER 19

They were proceeding so easily and comfortably on their way to Mount
Munch that Woot said in a serious tone of voice:

"I'm afraid something is going to happen."

"Why?" asked Polychrome, dancing around the group of travelers.

"Because," said the boy, thoughtfully, "I've noticed that when we have
the least reason for getting into trouble, something is sure to go
wrong. Just now the weather is delightful; the grass is beautifully blue
and quite soft to our feet; the mountain we are seeking shows clearly in
the distance and there is no reason anything should happen to delay us
in getting there. Our troubles all seem to be over, and--well, that's
why I'm afraid," he added, with a sigh.

"Dear me!" remarked the Scarecrow, "what unhappy thoughts you have, to
be sure. This is proof that born brains cannot equal manufactured
brains, for _my_ brains dwell only on facts and never borrow trouble.
When there is occasion for my brains to think, they think, but I would
be ashamed of my brains if they kept shooting out thoughts that were
merely fears and imaginings, such as do no good, but are likely to do
harm."

"For my part," said the Tin Woodman, "I do not think at all, but allow
my velvet heart to guide me at all time