"Because it grows on a vine," answered King Theodore sulkily, "and you needn't scream at me like that!" "Wrong!" said Notta triumphantly. "A tomato's like a book because it's red through." "Do you believe that?" asked the King, turning to squarely face the Queen. "No!" said her Majesty shortly, "I don't." "But a book couldn't grow on a vine," objected Bob Up mildly. "My books do," insisted Theodore, pursing up his lips. "Where were you brought up?" asked the Queen, staring at Bob severely. "You needn't answer if you don't want to," whispered the King, as Bob squirmed uneasily around in his chair. "The main thing is, what brought you up here? "If it's a story, rise and speak. What do you want? Whom do you seek?" "It _is_ a story," said Notta, springing up quickly, and glad of this opportunity to tell their strange adventures and to ask a few questions about the Emerald City. "A long story, your Highness," continued Notta. In as few words as possible he told of his former life in the circus, of their flight to Mudge, of Mustafa's determination to have them capture the Cowardly Lion. As Notta paused for breath, the King said, "Shall we let them pass through Doorways, my love?" Instead of answering the Queen leaned over and whispered in Theodore's ear. "Her Highness wishes to be amused," announced the King, straightening up. "You said in this circus it your business to make people laugh. Well, if you can make us laugh you may continue your journey. You may begin now and you may have three trials." The King folded his hands on his stomach and leaned back vastly pleased with himself. Notta's forehead wrinkled anxiously, for Queen Adora looked as if she had never laughed in her life. But with a wink at Bob the clown began. First he let out an ear splitting screech that so alarmed the King his crown fell off. Then he turned a complete somersault, chair and all, ran across the room on his hands and cartwheeled back so fast one could not have told whether he was a person or a pinwheel. Next he bent double, seized his ankles with his hands and jumped in this singular position entirely over Bob, finishing with a neat bow before the Queen's throne. "Do you think that's funny?" puffed the Queen, turning to squarely face the King, who was mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief. "No--no!" stuttered Theodore, in a slightly cracked voice. "It quite upset me, my love. Slammer, where's my crown?" Slammer recovered the King's crown and then both their Majesties stared solemnly at Notta. The clown stared back, a puzzled expression on his round jolly face. Then, dragging a huge handkerchief from his pocket, he whirled it over his hand and instantly it tied itself into a foolish rag baby, which the clown clasped to his bosom, crooning: "I love my baby, 'deed I do, Indeed, indeed I do! He has no hair upon his head, But neither, Sir, have you!