Ozma looked at him indignantly, but she said nothing more. She knew that it would be hard to convince anyone of her origin without some sort of proof. And, indeed, what would serve as sufficient proof to convince this Doubting Thomas? She knew all too well that, throughout history, skeptics have always been known to cling to what they thought to be truth, even when it was a foolish belief that they were clinging to. Indeed, mortals in America had placed a great deal of faith in a substance called radium. A highly radioactive and dangerous substance, radium was being treated as a miracle medicine that had been hailed as a cure-all for anything! This marshmallow man was every bit as small-minded as the mortal men. If she were going to prove her position and power, she would have to break through the imaginary wall that he had built up in his mind concerning the proper look of Queens and Fairies. "My good man," she said in her most dignified voice, "I can understand why you might assume what you do. It is true that I look more like a little girl than the ruler of a vast country like Oz. And it is true that some Fairy groups can be described as you have just suggested. However, it is also true that there are different kinds of Fairies, just as there are different kinds of marshmallows. The Fairy Queen Lurliné does not have wings, and she looks quite human, too. But if it is so important to you, I can probably meet with your needs in a satisfactory manner." She put her fingers to her temples and concentrated. "What are you doing?" asked the marshmallow man in puzzlement. Then: "Chicanery in Chittenango!" he exclaimed. "You have wings! But you didn't have them a second or two ago!" "Nor have I got them now," explained Ozma. "But I have made myself appear to you as you would have me appear. Because I am a Fairy, I can make myself look any way I please. But underneath, I am still the same little girl I have always been." The wings vanished again. "But how can this be?" shuddered the marshmallow man. "It is really very simple," explained Ozma. "When I first took the throne of Oz, I had the same blonde hair that you see me with now. But I might decide one day to be a brunette." Her hair suddenly changed color as she spoke. "Or even a redhead." Again, the child's hair changed color. "Why, if I had a mind to, I could even make it green!" Again, her hair color changed. "You know, I think I might want to try being a brunette once in a while. Just for a change, you know. And if ever I must meet with dignitaries from another country--especially one of those narrow-minded mortal lands, I think I might want to appear to them as an adult. But, of course, I like being youthful, so I will not really age. I will just make myself appear that way on occasion when the situation calls for it."