Its once splendid garden was choked up with weeds. Vines had run up and over the entire structure, covering even the windows and chimneys with a waving curtain of green. Owls hooted dismally from the towers and the scurry and scamper of frightened feet told that many little forest animals had made themselves at home within.
"Mercy," gasped Betsy Bobbin, examining anxiously a long scratch on her knee, "how did we get here?"
"Where are we?" inquired Sir Hokus, blinking very fast from his seat upon a stone lion, where he had landed a little too suddenly and emphatically for complete comfort.
"We are in Morrow," replied the Wizard, rising from the last step of the castle and dusting off his green trousers. "In Morrow, by my express wish and Dr. Nikidik's wishing pills."
"Well, you might have told us we were coming," said Trot a bit crossly, beginning to look around for her side comb.
"Morrow!" murmured Ozma, walking dreamily up the castle steps. "Why I've been here before, dozens and dozens of times."
"Got another pill, Wizard?" asked Scraps grimly.
"Ahem! No, I don't believe I have," coughed the little man nervously. "Why?"
"I wanna go home," shuddered the Patch Work Girl, looking fearfully at the dismal forest surrounding the castle and a flock of black birds circling ominously overhead. "I wanna go home!"