The dearest, sweetest girl in the world is our Dorothy, and I will fight anyone-animal or human-who dares to deny it!” “Friend Hank,” said he, “either you are mistaken in judgment or you are willfully trying to deceive us.
Slowly the great Lion rose to his feet, his mane bristling. The Sawhorse gave an angry snort and stamped his golden feet. “The dearest, sweetest girl in all the world!” “Betsy rides upon my back,” declared Hank proudly. “You must understand, friend Hank, that the Sawhorse puts on airs because he is shod with plates of gold, and because our beloved Ruler, Ozma of Oz, likes to ride upon his back.” “That is why this Land is favored,” said the Tiger. “There are other Lions, too,” said the Sawhorse “but I am the only horse, of any description, in this favored Land.” “No,” acknowledged the Tiger, “I have many relatives living in the Jungle Country but I am the only Tiger living in the Emerald City.” “There are a great many in America,” said Hank. “Oh, indeed! Then there must be other mules in your outside world,” said the Tiger, yawning sleepily. “Mules understand it very well,” declared Hank. “All animals talk, in this favored country, and you must admit it is more sociable than to bray your dreadful ‘hee-haw,’ which nobody can understand.” “That is because you are in the Land of Oz,” said the Sawhorse. “One minute I was outside of Oz-and the next minute I was inside! That was enough to give me a nervous shock, as you may guess but to find myself able to talk, as Betsy does, is a marvel that staggers me.” I believe you came here from the cold, civilized, outside world, did you not?” “Strange things happen in this Land of Oz, as they do everywhere else. “I can well understand that,” remarked the Lion, wagging his great head with a swaying motion. “I have never said anything else, until now,” he replied and then he began to tremble with fright to hear himself talk. Hank moved his ears in an embarrassed manner. The Sawhorse, standing stiffly before Hank, repeated his question: The Cowardly Lion, looking very dignified, was stretched out upon the marble floor of the stable, eyeing Hank with a calm and critical gaze, while near by crouched the huge Hungry Tiger, who seemed equally interested in the new animal that had just arrived. This was not quite so beautiful as the other, for the Sawhorse was Ozma’s favorite steed but Hank had a supply of cushions for a bed (which the Sawhorse did not need because he never slept) and all this luxury was so strange to the little mule that he could only stand still and regard his surroundings and his strange companions with wonder and amazement. They were in a beautiful stable in the rear of Ozma’s palace, where the wooden Sawhorse-very much alive-lived in a gold-paneled stall, and where there were rooms for the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger, which were filled with soft cushions for them to lie upon and golden troughs for them to eat from.īeside the stall of the Sawhorse had been placed another for Hank, the mule.
“Well, is ‘hee-haw’ all you are able to say?” inquired the Sawhorse, as he examined Hank with his knot eyes and slowly wagged the branch that served him for a tail.
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