"Well," began Dorothy, "as soon as the parasol opened, I flew up so fast that I could hardly breathe. Then, after I'd gone ever so far, it came to me that if the parasol went up when it was up, it would come down when it was down. I couldn't leave you all in such a fix—so I closed it, and—"
"Came down!" finished the Scarecrow with a wave of his hand. "You always do the right thing in the right place, my dear."
"It was lucky I hit the vase, wasn't it?" sighed Dorothy. "But I'm rather sorry about the Princes."
"Served 'em right," growled the Cowardly Lion. "They'll make very good pigs!"
"But who's to rule the island?" demanded Sir Hokus, turning his gaze reluctantly from the smoking dragonskin.
"This will require thought," said the Scarecrow pensively. "Let us all think."
"I doubt that I can ever think again." The Doubtful Dromedary wagged his head from side to side in a dazed fashion.
"Just leave it to our dear Karwan Bashi." The Comfortable Camel nodded complacently at the Knight and began plucking sly wisps from the Scarecrow's boot top. For a short time there was absolute silence.
Then Sir Hokus, who had been thinking tremendously with his elbows on his knees, burst out, "Why not Sir Pudding, here? Why not this honest Punster? Who but Happy Toko deserves the throne?"
"The very person!" cried the Scarecrow, clasping his yellow gloves, and taking off his silver hat, he set it impulsively upon the head of the fat little Silver Islander.