asked the
Woggle-Bug,
looking
from one
to another
with
unconcealed
interest.
“Not more
so than
yourself,”
answered
the
Scarecrow.
“Everything
in life is
unusual
until you
get
accustomed
to it.”
“What rare
philosophy!”
exclaimed
the
Woggle-Bug,
admiringly.
“Yes; my
brains are
working
well
today,”
admitted
the
Scarecrow,
an accent
of pride
in his
voice.
“Then, if
you are
sufficiently
rested and
refreshed,
let us
bend our
steps
toward the
Emerald
City,”
