"A banana bird! My eyes grew blurred; I took to my toes and heels, Then away he flew with a flap or two, Of his yellow banana peels." "I must try to remember that for Scraps," Dorothy giggled softly to herself. Her head was full of the Forgetful Poet's ridiculous rhymes, and she was so busy remembering them and the many bits of news she had for Ozma that she reached the bottom of the mountain in almost no time and, without noticing where she was going, turned into an inviting small lane. There was a sign swinging from a yellow post at the head of the lane, but Dorothy never saw it. She knew she was in the familiar Winkie Country, for the wind mills, flapping lazily in the morning breeze, were yellow, the houses were yellow and if that were not proof enough, the lane was full of daisies and buttercups and edged with golden peach and pear trees. "I don't believe," sighed Dorothy, hurrying happily along under the lovely branches, "I don't believe there is any place so interesting as Oz. How pretty this road is!" Stooping down, she scooped up a bit of the sand that made the bed of the lane sparkle like silver in the sunlight. It _was_ silver, to be perfectly truthful, and with a little smile Dorothy slipped some into her pocket. "How surprised anyone in Kansas would be to find silver dust in the road," thought the little girl, recalling her old home with a little chuckle of amusement. "No, nothing like this ever happens in America at all, and yet--" Dorothy paused to pick an unusually large buttercup and twirl it absently under her chin, "and yet I sometimes wish I were in America again, just to see--" Wheee--ee! Off flew her hat, up flew her heels and in a whirl of silver dust and peach blossoms, off flew Dorothy herself. Off, up, away and down again, so swiftly she had not even time to swallow. "Thirty miles to Hollywood," said the sign near the huge rock where she sat blinking with shock and astonishment. "Hollywood!" panted Dorothy. "Why that's in California and California's in the United States. But how did I get here?" There was no one to answer her question, and as she couldn't answer it herself she jumped up, smoothed out her dress and looked anxiously about. A smooth white road ran evenly ahead, one side sloped down into a deep ravine, on the other side was a long, uninteresting stretch of meadow. Through the trees at the bottom of the ravine, Dorothy caught a glimpse of some houses.