"But what's the fun of looking at other folks having adventures," sniffed Dorothy. "In Oz we have adventures ourselves, and in Oz I'm a Princess and live in a castle."
The dummy turned and looked at her respectfully. "A Princess," he murmured in a faint voice. "Oh!"
"Have you any name?" asked Dorothy, rather ashamed of her boast about being a Princess.
"Well, there's a number on the back of my neck, but I don't think I have any name," answered the stuffed man uneasily. "I'm just a dummy, you know."
"But I wouldn't like to call you a dummy," said Dorothy gently.
"Well that's what I am," insisted the stuffed king cheerfully, "a regular dummy."
Tiptoeing round back of him, Dorothy pulled out a little tag on the back of his collar. "202-B-E-10-B-47" read the little girl. "My, what a long number."
"Yes, isn't it," replied the dummy proudly. "Couldn't you call me by that?"
"I could never remember it," objected Dorothy. "Let—me—see, I might call you Clifford 'cause you fell off a cliff, or Cal, 'cause I found you in California? Do you know, you are dreadfully humpy in spots. Humpy! Why I believe I'll call you Humpy!" cried Dorothy, clapping her hands softly.
"Oooh! Ouch! What's that?" In sudden terror Dorothy clutched at her left shoe.