"Approach, creatures and beast," commanded I-wish-I-was in a slightly shaky voice. He was sitting on a high wooden perch, swinging his feet. Grouped about him were a number of Uns in bright green uniforms that exactly matched their feather hair. Notta made a deep bow and Bob and the Cowardly Lion moved forward together. "How did you come to come here?" asked I-wish-I-was, adjusting a pair of huge spectacles on his terrible beak. "We didn't come to come at all," said Notta hastily. "We were standing under a tree, watching it knit--a very strange sight, your Skyness will agree." "Why shouldn't it knit?" snapped the King impatiently. "There's no law against it, is there? In fact, if it were not for that tree, we'd be in a pretty state for fishing nets." "Well, we were caught in the tree's net, the net flew up and here we are," finished Notta, determined not to quarrel if he could help it. "A mighty poor catch, I call you," muttered the King complainingly. He turned to his guard to see whether they agreed with him and they all nodded so hard it made Bob dizzy. "Are you willing to become Uns?" he asked gloomily. "I'll not grow feathers for anybody," growled the Cowardly Lion, shaking his paw at I-wish-I-was. "Wait till you've tried," answered the King loftily. "But what I mean is this: Each of you must do something unish, for we are all Uns here. I'm unfair--any Un will tell you that. Bill, there," he pointed proudly to the commander of the Guard, "Bill, he's ungrateful." Then he waved to the Un beside him. "And Tom's unkind. See what I mean? We're all Uns together." The King rubbed his clawlike hands gleefully. "But I never heard of such a place!" gasped Notta. "Of course not! Un's positively unheard of," confided the King, smoothing back his feathers complacently. Bob's eyes grew rounder and rounder, Notta swallowed, and the Cowardly Lion tilted one ear forward to be sure he was hearing aright. "Why, you're Uns already," said I-wish-I-was, with a mean little chuckle. "You," he pointed his long thin finger at Notta, "are unnatural. You," he pointed to the Cowardly Lion, "are unpleasant. And you," he wiggled his finger teasingly at Bob, "you're uninteresting!" "Thanks!" said the clown, taking off his cap. "And besides that," cried I-wish-I-was, his voice rising to a shrill squeak, "you're all uninvited." "And bound to be unlucky," gurgled Bill of the Guard. "And terribly unhappy," squealed another, dancing up and down. "And terrifically uncomfortable," added a third. Hereupon the Uns began hopping frantically about, each shouting something unish, till Bob covered his ears and the Cowardly Lion began to lash his tail with fury. "Stop! Stop!" shouted the clown, stamping his foot. "I believe this is the unpleasantest island I've ever been on." Loud cheers from the Uns interrupted him here. "And if you will tell us the way off we'll go at once."