The Wizard drew a small green book from his pocket. It was the book of magic messages and the little company waited anxiously while he flipped over the pages. But although every other kind of message was touched upon, there was nothing at all about goose feathers. With a sigh, the Wizard returned the book to his pocket, and dropping upon his knees began to examine the letters through his smallifying glass.
Tik Tok, except for the chug and whirr of his machinery, had been perfectly quiet. Now, leaning over so far he nearly tumbled on his copper nose, he began to read the message aloud.
"Go—to-morrow—to-day! Go—to-morrow—to-day!" rasped Tik Tok, in his harsh rasping voice, over and over and over, until Ozma and Betsy clapped hands to their ears and Trot begged him to stop. "That's fun-ny—," ticked the copper man at last. "It tells us when to go—but not—where. Too many times and—no—place. Go—to-mor—"
Whirr—click! Tik Tok's voice ran down and the sentence stopped in mid air.
"Thank goodness!" cried Betsy Bobbin fervently.
"Well, you'd better thank Tik Tok," spluttered the Scarecrow, leaping off the golden bench. "Hurrah! I have it now. One's a time and one's a place. Is there a Kingdom called Morrow anywhere in Oz, my dear?"
"Morrow!" exclaimed Ozma, "Why, that does sound familiar, somehow. Morrow? Yes, I feel sure there is."
"Get a map," ordered the Scarecrow in great excitement, and all but the Wizard sat down and smiled at the cleverness of the wise straw man.
