"Dear me, no!" laughed the Scarecrow. "That's all over and done with and Jinjur and I are the best of friends. I was tired of being Emperor, anyway," he finished carelessly. "It's more fun being yourself."
"Will I be myself when I'm a real man?" asked the statue soberly. "I'm beginning to feel happy the way I am."
"That's because you're helping everybody," exclaimed Trot, giving him a little pat.
"Is it?" Stroking his chin thoughtfully, the stone man stopped. "I don't even mind losing my hat and umbrella," he finished in surprise.
"We'll soon find you new ones," promised the Scarecrow. "As soon as we reach the Emerald City, and when we've helped find this lost Queen, you can settle down with us and be happy ever afterward."
"How long is that?" Benny eyed the straw man with deep interest.
"For as long as you live," announced Trot with a little skip.
"Then I hope I live always," sighed Benny. "I'd hate to stand still for fifty years like I did before. And if I'm ever called upon to be a statue again, I hope I'll be a sitting-down statue. You have no idea how tiresome it is standing up for yourself and somebody you have never seen, year after year."
The Scarecrow nodded sympathetically and, talking of this and that, but especially of the Ozure Isles, the three travelers crossed several meadows and finally came to a narrow blue highway. It was so narrow they had to walk single file, but as the Scarecrow declared that any road was better than none, they proceeded along the highway until the strawman, who was in the lead, came to a full stop.
"What's the matter?" demanded Trot, who came next. The Scarecrow squeezed aside so the others could see ahead and, peering anxiously over his shoulder, Trot saw a curious blue turnstile.