As for the Ball of Fire, the false Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling.

It was really a ball of cotton, but when oil was poured upon it the ball burned fiercely.
"Really," said the Scarecrow, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself for being such a humbug." "I am--I certainly am," answered the little man sorrowfully; "but it was the only thing I could do.

Sit down, please, there are plenty of chairs; and I will tell you my story." So they sat down and listened while he told the following tale.
"I was born in Omaha--" "Why, that isn't very far from Kansas!" cried Dorothy.
"No, but it's farther from here," he said, shaking his head at her sadly.

"When I grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I was very well trained by a great master.

I can imitate any kind of a bird or beast." Here he mewed so like a kitten that Toto pricked up his ears and looked everywhere to see where she was.