CHAPTER 11
A Real Oz Adventure
"The last thing I remember," muttered the dummy thickly, "was a little girl shooting up like a fountain. Now what happened after that?" Dorothy raised her head and looked cautiously in the direction from which the voice was coming. The dummy lay, face down, in a great heap of leaves and, without making any attempt to rise, went stuffily on with the conversation. "I don't mind falling for stars, but being flung around like a bean bag for a person who is one size this minute and another size the next is all wrong. I wonder where she is now!"
"Here I am," called Dorothy breathlessly, rolling out of a pile of leaves on the other side of him. "How do you s'pose we got here?"
"Little again!" groaned the dummy, just lifting his head long enough to look at her, and then letting it drop back among the leaves. "Little again!"
"Oh, am I?" Dorothy jumped up in great excitement and began measuring herself as best she could. Her stockings were stretched and torn, her dress was ripped in several seams and minus all of its buttons. But outside of this she was her old, or rather her young, sweet self again.