"Now, see here," said Dorothy; "we want the Magic Flower to give to
Ozma on her birthday. You'd be glad to please Ozma, wouldn't you?"

"I'm not sure," replied the creature. "Why should I want
to please anybody?"

"You've got a heart, 'cause I can see it inside of you," said Trot.

"Yes; it's a pretty heart, and I'm fond of it," said the cat,
twisting around to view its own body. "But it's made from a ruby, and
it's hard as nails."

"Aren't you good for ANYthing?" asked Trot.

"Yes, I'm pretty to look at, and that's more than can be said of
you," retorted the creature.

Trot laughed at this, and Dorothy, who understood the Glass Cat
pretty well, said soothingly:

"You are indeed beautiful, and if you can tell Cap'n Bill where to
find the Magic Flower, all the people in Oz will praise your
cleverness. The Flower will belong to Ozma, but everyone will know
the Glass Cat discovered it."

This was the kind of praise the crystal creature liked.

"Well," it said, while the pink brains rolled around, "I found the
Magic Flower way up in the north of the Munchkin Country where few
people live or ever go. There's a river there that flows through a