“It must belong to a woodcutter,” said Dorothy as they sat down cozily together, “and I don’t believe he’ll mind.”
“I’ll leave a poem to pay for it,” said Percy loftily.
“And I’ll leave my ring,” added Dorothy. She was a little afraid the woodcutter might not appreciate Percy’s poem.
While Dorothy washed up the dishes Percy scribbled away busily on some sheets of paper he had found on the table and, after a good many corrections, he pinned the following verse up on the wall:
“We’ve eaten up a little bacon
And eggs and such and now are takin’
Our leave. Accept our thanks, and you
Should feel a little honored to
Have entertained with humble fare
A really celebrated pair—
A Princess and a Poet, who
Wish you good-luck, good-day, a—”
Dorothy took the pencil and added a large dieu to Percy’s last line. Then, leaving her gold ring on the table, she skipped after the Forgetful Poet and Toto, who were already out of doors and anxious to be off.
“Which way shall we go?” Dorothy paused a moment. “I think the Emerald City is in this direction,” she decided at last, facing toward the West.
“Well, I hope so,” sighed Percy Vere, “for otherwise we shall never find the Princess. I wish I’d flung that prophet out of the window—so I do!” You see the young poet was getting very much discouraged.
“But even if you had, there still would be the monster to think about,” Dorothy reminded him. “And if she’s lost from us, she’s lost from the monster, too!”