When she sat on her splendid emerald throne in the great Throne Room of her palace and made laws and settled disputes and tried to keep all her subjects happy and contented, she was as dignified and demure as any queen might be; but when she had thrown aside her jeweled robe of state and her sceptre, and had retired to her private apartments, the girl--joyous, light-hearted and free--replaced the sedate Ruler.
In the banquet hall to-night were gathered only old and trusted friends, so here Ozma was herself--a mere girl.

She greeted Dorothy with a kiss, the Shaggy Man with a smile, the little old Wizard with a friendly handshake and then she pressed the Scarecrow's stuffed arm and cried merrily: "What a lovely left ear! Why, it's a hundred times better than the old one." "I'm glad you like it," replied the Scarecrow, well pleased.

"Jinjur did a neat job, didn't she?
And my hearing is now perfect.

Isn't it wonderful what a little paint will do, if it's properly applied ?" "It really is wonderful," she agreed, as they all took their seats; "but the Sawhorse must have made his legs twinkle to have carried you so far in one day.

I didn't expect you back before to-morrow, at the earliest." "Well," said the Scarecrow, "I met a charming girl on the road and wanted to see more of her, so I hurried back." Ozma laughed.
"I know," she returned; "it's the Patchwork Girl.