"Of course we will," said Skamperoo, bouncing happily along at his side. "I've had a lot of experience since I saw you, old Skinny Pins. Ho, Pinny, my boy, I've been an Emperor in Oz!"
"OZ? Never!" Closing his lips into a thin line, Pinny Penny looked from his Master to Chalk, who was stepping sedately along on his other side.
"But it's perfectly true," whinnied the white horse, prancing a bit from sheer enjoyment, "and now we are home with five splendid wishes."
"Wishes?" sniffed Pinny Penny, rearing his head suspiciously. "What good are wishes?"
"But these wishes really work and come true," explained Chalk with a toss of his head, "and what's more they are going to work and come true for Skampavia!"
"Any wish you work hard enough for will come true," insisted Pinny Penny stubbornly. "Wishes—POOH! Wishes—POOH! 'If wishes were horses, beggars would ride!'" finished the little Prime Minister half under his breath.
"But don't you see?" Skamperoo grasped Pinny Penny firmly by the shoulders. "This is one time when wishes WERE horses and beggars DID ride. My first wish was for a horse and here he is, and as true as you are and as wise and clever. Why, even if the magic emeralds give me nothing more, I am still the luckiest fellow on this side of the Deadly Desert!"
"Moons, stars, and rainbows! I believe you have gotten some sense," gasped Pinny Penny, staring with wide eyes into Skamperoo's face. "And that's the first good I ever knew to come of magic."
Pulling Pinny Penny down to his old bench, now neatly mended and painted green, the King of Skampavia told his little Prime Minister the whole story I have just been telling you. When he finished and settled back complacently, Pinny Penny instead of looking glad or pleased stared mournfully at the ground.