“Pretty well,” smiled Dorothy, sitting up with a little yawn. “How did you enjoy your sleep?” “There was a rock in my bed,” said the Forgetful Poet thoughtfully, “and then I got trying to think of a word to rhyme with schnetzel.” “How about pretzel?” suggested Dorothy, smiling a little to herself at the Forgetful Poet’s earnestness. “And what is a schnetzel?” Dorothy smiled sweetly. “It’s a green mocking bird,” explained Percy Vere, tossing back his hair, “and it does live on pretzels. My dear, you have a wonderful mind.” “Woof!” interrupted Toto. He had been up for hours and wanted his breakfast. The three travellers had been forced to spend the night in the deep forest to which the runaway had brought them. The Forgetful Poet had piled up a soft couch of boughs and leaves for Dorothy and Toto, but had flung himself carelessly under a tree. However, it took more than a hard bed to dash Percy’s spirits and, after running up and down a few paces to get the stiffness out of his bones, he began to sing at the top of his voice, filling in the words he forgot with such comical made-up ones that Dorothy could not help laughing. “I think we are going to have a lucky day, Mr Vere,” said the little girl, hopping up merrily. “Don’t you?” Percy, who was washing his face in a near-by brook, nodded so vigorously that the water splashed in every direction. “I should say!—April, May!” he called gaily. “Why do you put in April May?” asked Dorothy, running over to splash her own hands in the brook. “To keep in practice,” puffed the Forgetful Poet. “Is that plain—aeroplane? Is that clear—summer’s here? I’m always afraid I shall run out of rhymes,” confided Percy, drying his face on his yellow silk handkerchief. “So when I’m talking in prose, I usually add a line under my breath.” “Oh!” said Dorothy, and lowered her head so that the Forgetful Poet would not see her smile. “You’ll like Scraps,” observed Dorothy presently. “She’s a poet too.” And as they walked through the fragrant forest, Dorothy told him all about the Patch Work Girl, who lives in the Emerald City. Scraps, as most of you know, is one of the most famous characters in Oz, being entirely made from a patch work quilt and magically brought to life. “Does she make better verses than I do?” asked Percy jealously. “No,” answered Dorothy, shaking her head, “not any better, and yours are such fun to finish.” This speech so tickled Percy Vere that he recited a verse upon the spot, waving his arms so ferociously that Toto hid under a rock. The little dog peered out from his hiding place to hear the strange young poet deliver this jingle—which his little doggie head could not comprehend in the slightest: “As I came out of Snoozleburg, I met a melon collie; He wept because he said he felt So terribly unjolly! “I patted him upon the head; He bit me on the shin— Which goes to show just what A horrid temper he was—was—”