The Ozurians number one thousand and seven and are a tall fair haired race of Munchkins. In olden days they were the happiest, most care-free people in Oz, but that was before Mombi, the wicked witch of the North, stole the young Queen and sent the monster Quiberon to guard the waters of Orizon. Since then, the good King and his subjects have been virtual prisoners on the islands. The great flock of sea horses on which they were wont to ride to the mainland have been destroyed by this pitiless monster and only when Quiberon is sleeping dare the inhabitants venture down to the shore. You see in aquariums, the sea horses that abound in our own tropical waters. Well, the sea horses of Orizon were like that, only as large as Arabian steeds, with flashing manes, great winged fins and powerful shining tails. To ride upon their backs must have been more pleasurable than anything I can imagine and their loss was one of the greatest griefs this island monarch had suffered. One would wonder that so unfortunate a King could endure life at all. But Cheeriobed was so kind and gay and so naturally merry that even in the face of all his misfortunes he was calm and uncomplaining and often had whole days at a time when he forgot to be unhappy. Upon his shimmering islands grew everything necessary for comfort and ease and his subjects were light hearted and industrious and always obedient to his desires. Then, to see the sun flashing on the jeweled rocks and sparkling shores of the Ozure Isles by day and the moon silvering the spires of the Sapphire City by night would lift the heaviest heart. To further lighten the sorrows of this good King, there was Philador, his son. Nowhere in the four Kingdoms of Oz lived a gayer, handsomer and more companionable little fellow. Then too, Cheeriobed was fortunate enough to have at his castle a juggler who could balance ten chairs and some more things upon his chin, a minstrel who knew a thousand songs, and a carpet that could beat itself. So on the rare occasions when Quiberon lay dozing, life was gay and happy in the blue castle. On one such calm and sunny morning, Cheeriobed, his throne drawn close to the great windows, was gazing dreamily off toward the Munchkin Mountains. He was thinking of the old happy days and only half listening to the strumming of Umtillio, the minstrel. At his side, Toddledy, faithful scribe and Prime Moneyster was balancing the castle accounts, while Palumbo, the court juggler, balanced seven books, three ink wells and a gold chair on the tip of his nose.