"Thought a little fly over the tree tops might help your head," grunted Pigasus, looking unhappily down his pink snout. "Nothing like a little fly for a headache, my girl!" "My head's all right," answered Dorothy sullenly. "It's the rest of you who have lost your heads or your senses. How in Oz you could stand in there cheering that big, fat fraud, I'll never, never understand. Piggins, Piggins, dear--" Dorothy bent coaxingly over him--"surely you remember Ozma and the Wizard and Glinda." Instead of answering at once, Pigasus stared thoughtfully at his reflection in the pool. "Suppose you sit on my back and then we can talk without being heard," he suggested brightly. "Up in the air we can air our views in safety, as it were." "To tell the truth, I don't much care where I go now," sighed Dorothy, seating herself disconsolately on the pig's broad back. "Hey Hey, we're bewitched and enchanted, I knew it! With you on my back, I can think and see through it!" squealed Pigasus, and flapping his huge wings he soared high over the flowering plum trees in Ozma's garden. "Of course Ozma's Queen, not this big Skamperoo The Ruler of Oz and the whole royal crew Have been kidnapped--bewitched, or put out of the way-- We'll fly off for help and we'll start right away." "Oh, Piggins!" Dorothy threw both arms round the pig's neck and almost wept for joy: "Oh Pigasus to think you remember them, too, But where have they gone? What in Oz shall we do?" "We'll find them, wherever they are they'll be found, But we'd best make our plans with our feet on the ground," muttered Pigasus, looking below for a likely spot to land. There was one disadvantage about Pigasus, though some did not regard it as such. Like the winged horse Pegasus, whoever caught him and rode on his back at once became a poet and unable to speak anything but rhymes. The poetic pig could not only tell what they were thinking, but he often spoke his own mind in verse as well. At times this grew terribly tiresome, but except for his jingles, a more cheerful loyal little fellow could not be found in the length or breadth of the country. Raised and bred by the Red Jinn, he had been given to the Duke of Dork. The Duke had given him to the Philadelphia boy, Peter, who in the course of a voyage with Samuel Salt, the Pirate, had captured the Duke's splendid castle boat. The capture had been quite a social and friendly affair and the Duke had traded Pigasus for a Bananny Goat. Peter had later brought the flying pig to the Emerald City, where he was petted and admired by the whole court. Now, slanting down into a quiet grove, Pigasus came to a gentle stop and Dorothy tumbled jubilantly off his back. "Oh, Pigasus, isn't it lucky you were in the Emerald City? Nobody else can remember Ozma or the others at all."