“Come ashort,” said Wag again, looking around uneasily, for he was anxious to get out of the gnome’s cave. So Peg seated herself carefully on his back and clasped her wooden arms around his neck. Then Wag ran back a few steps, gave a great jump and sailed up, up and out of the cave. “Ten penny tea cups!” shrieked the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, falling over backwards. “What next?” For Wag with Peg on his back had leaped straight over his head. Picking himself up, and with every whisker in his beard prickling straight on end, the Grand Army of Oz backed toward the royal stable. When he had backed half the distance he turned and ran for his life. But he need not have been afraid. “What a funny little man,” chuckled Wag. “Why, he’s no bigger than we are. He’s no—!” Then suddenly Wag clutched his ears. “Oh!” he screamed, beginning to hop up and down, “I forgot all my treasures—my olden goop soons. Oh! Oh! My urple sool wocks! I’ve forgotten my urple sool wocks!” “Your what?” cried Peg Amy, clutching him by the fur. “Now Wag, dear, you’re all mixed up. Perhaps it’s ’cause your ears are crossed. There, now, do stop wiggling your whiskers and turn out your toes!” But Wag continued to wiggle his whiskers and turn in his toes and roar for his urple sool wocks. “Stop!” screamed Peg at last, with both hands over her wooden ears. “I know what you mean! Your purple wool socks!” [Illustration: (unlabelled)] “Yes,” sobbed the rabbit, slumping down on a rock and holding his head in both paws. “Well, don’t you think”—the Wooden Doll shook her head jerkily—“Don’t you think it’s just as well? Ruggedo stole all those things and you wouldn’t want stolen soup spoons, now would you?” Wag took a long breath and regarded Peg uncertainly. Then something in her pleasant wooden face seemed to brace him up. “No!” he sighed solemnly—“I s’pose not. I ought to have left Rug long ago.” “But then you couldn’t have helped me,” said Peg brightly. “Let’s don’t think about it any more. You’ve been awfully good to me, Wag.” “Have I?” said Wag more cheerfully. “Well, you’re a good sort, Peg—a regular Princess!” he finished, puffing out his chest, “and anything you say goes.” “Princess?” laughed the Wooden Doll, pleased nevertheless. “I’m a funny Princess, in this old dress. Did you ever hear of a wooden Princess, Wag?” “You look like a Princess to me,” said the rabbit stoutly. “Dresses don’t matter.” This speech so tickled the Wooden Doll that she gave Wag a good hug and began dancing again. “Being alive is such fun!” she called gaily over her shoulder, “and you are so wonderful!” Wag’s chest expanded at least three inches and his whiskers trembled with emotion. “Hop on my back Peg and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go,” he puffed magnificently.