upon us. I've known old Mombi do things like that before. Probably it's nothing more than 
an illusion, and there are no sunflowers here at all."
    "Then let us shut our eyes and walk forward," suggested the Woodman.
    "Excuse me," replied the Scarecrow. "My eyes are not painted to shut. Because you 
happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine we are all built in the same way."
    "And the eyes of the Saw-Horse are knot eyes," said Jack, leaning forward to examine 
them.
    "Nevertheless, you must ride quickly forward," commanded Tip, "and we will follow 
after you and so try to escape. My eyes are already so dazzled that I can scarcely see." 
So the Pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and Tip grasped the stub tail of the Saw-Horse 
and followed with closed eyes. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman brought up the rear, and 
before they had gone many yards a Joyful shout from Jack announced that the way was clear 
before them.
    Then all paused to look backward, but not a trace of the field of sunflowers remained.
    More cheerfully, now they proceeded upon their Journey; but old Mombi had so changed 
the appearance of the landscape that they would surely have been lost had not the 
Scarecrow wisely concluded to take their direction from the sun. For no witch-craft could 
change the course of the sun, and it was therefore a safe guide.
    However, other difficulties lay before them. The Saw-Horse stepped into a rabbit hole 
and fell to the ground.
    The Pumpkinhead was pitched high into the air, and his history would probably have 
ended at that exact moment had not the Tin Woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin as it 
descended and saved it from injury.
    Tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and replaced Jack upon his feet. But the 
Saw-Horse did not escape so easily. For when his leg was pulled from the rabbit hole it 
was found to be broken short off, and must be replaced or repaired before he could go a 
step farther.
    "This is quite serious," said the Tin Woodman." If there were trees near by I might 
soon manufacture another leg for this animal; but I cannot see even a shrub for miles 
around."
    "And there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land of Oz," added the 
Scarecrow, disconsolately.
    "Then what shall we do?" enquired the boy.
    "I suppose I must start my brains working," replied his Majesty the Scarecrow; "for 
experience has, taught me that I can do anything if I but take time to think it out."
    "Let us all think," said Tip; "and perhaps we shall find a way to repair the 
Saw-Horse." So they sat in a row upon the grass and began to think, while the Saw-Horse 
occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb.
    "Does it hurt?" asked the Tin Woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice.
    "Not in the least," returned the Saw-Horse; "but my pride is injured to find that my 
anatomy is so brittle." For a time the little group remained in silent thought. Presently 
the Tin Woodman raised his head and looked over the fields.
    "What sort of creature is that which approaches us?" he asked, wonderingly.
    The others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward them the most 
extraordinary object they had ever beheld. It advanced quickly and noiselessly over the 
soft grass and in a few minutes stood before the adventurers and regarded them with an 
astonishment equal to their own.
    The Scarecrow was calm under all circumstances.
    "Good morning!" he said, politely.
    The stranger removed his hat with a flourish, bowed very low, and then responded: 
"Good morning, one and all. I hope you are, as an aggregation, enjoying excellent health. 
Permit me to present my card." With this courteous speech it extended a card toward the 
Scarecrow, who accepted it, turned it over and over, and handed it with a shake of his 
head to Tip.
    The boy read aloud: "MR. H. M. WOGGLE-BUG, T. E."
    "Dear me!" ejaculated the Pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently.
    "How very peculiar!" said the Tin Woodman.
    Tip's eyes were round and wondering, and the Saw-Horse uttered a sigh and turned away 
its head.
    "Are you really a Woggle-Bug?" enquired the Scarecrow.
    "Most certainly, my dear sir!" answered the stranger, briskly. "Is not my name upon 
the card?"
    "It is," said the Scarecrow. "But may I ask what 'H. M.' stands for?"
    "'H. M.' means Highly Magnified," returned the Woggle-Bug, proudly.
    "Oh, I see." The Scarecrow viewed the stranger critically. "And are you, in truth, 
highly magnified?"
    "Sir," said the Woggle-Bug, "I take you for a gentleman of judgment and discernment. 
Does it not occur to you that I am several thousand times greater than any Woggle-Bug you 
ever saw before? Therefore it is plainly evident that I am Highly Magnified, and there is 
no good reason why you should doubt the fact."
    "Pardon me," returned the Scarecrow. "My brains are slightly mixed since I was last 
laundered. Would it be improper for me to ask, also, what the 'T.E.' at the end of your 
name stands for?"
    "Those letters express my degree," answered the Woggle-Bug, with a condescending 
smile. "To be more explicit, the initials mean that I am Thoroughly Educated."
    "Oh!" said the Scarecrow, much relieved.
    Tip had not yet taken his eyes off this wonderful personage. What he saw was a great, 
round, buglike body supported upon two slender legs which ended in delicate feet - the 
toes curling upward. The body of the Woggle-Bug was rather flat, and judging from what 
could be seen of it was of a glistening dark brown color upon the back, while the front 
was striped with alternate bands of light brown and white, blending together at the 
edges. Its arms were fully as slender as its legs, and upon a rather long neck was 
perched its head - not unlike the head of a man, except that its nose ended in a curling 
antenna, or "feeler," and its ears from the upper points bore antennae that decorated the 
sides of its head like two miniature, curling pig tails. It must be admitted that the 
round, black eyes were rather bulging in appearance; but the expression upon the 
Woggle-Bug's face was by no means unpleasant.
    For dress the insect wore a dark-blue swallowtail coat with a yellow silk lining and 
a flower in the button-hole; a vest of white duck that stretched tightly across the wide 
body; knickerbockers of fawn-colored plush, fastened at the knees with gilt buckles; and, 
perched upon its small head, was jauntily set a tall silk hat.
    Standing upright before our amazed friends the Woggle-Bug appeared to be fully as 
tall as the Tin Woodman; and surely no bug in all the Land of Oz had ever before attained 
so enormous a size.
    "I confess," said the Scarecrow, "that your abrupt appearance has caused me surprise, 
and no doubt has startled my companions. I hope, however, that this circumstance will not 
distress you. We shall probably get used to you in time."
    "Do not apologize, I beg of you!" returned the Woggle-Bug, earnestly. "It affords me 
great pleasure to surprise people; for surely I cannot be classed with ordinary insects 
and am entitled to both curiosity and admiration from those I meet."