"No, your Majesty," replied the Nome; "for it can't be done."
"Oh indeed!" exclaimed the King. Then he turned to his servants and
said: "Please take General Crinkle to the torture chamber. There you
will kindly slice him into thin slices. Afterward you may feed him
to the seven-headed dogs."
"Anything to oblige your Majesty," replied the servants, politely,
and led the condemned man away.
When they had gone, the King addressed the army again.
"Listen!" said he. "The General who is to command my armies must
promise to carry out my orders. If he fails he will share the fate
of poor Crinkle. Now, then, who will volunteer to lead my hosts to
the Emerald City?"
For a time no one moved and all were silent. Then an old Nome with
white whiskers so long that they were tied around his waist to prevent
their tripping him up, stepped out of the ranks and saluted the King.
"I'd like to ask a few questions, your Majesty," he said.
"Go ahead," replied the King.
"These Oz people are quite good, are they not?"
"As good as apple pie," said the King.
"And they are happy, I suppose?" continued the old Nome.
"Happy as the day is long," said the King.
"And contented and prosperous?" inquired the Nome.
"Very much so," said the King.
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