Ozma dear;
I am patched and gay and glary;
You're a sweet and lovely fairy;
May your birthdays all be happy,
Ozma dear!"


"How do you like it, Dorothy?" inquired the Patchwork Girl.

"Is it good poetry, Scraps?" asked Dorothy, doubtfully.

"It's as good as any ordinary song," was the reply. "I have given
it a dandy title, too. I shall call the song: 'When Ozma Has a
Birthday, Everybody's Sure to Be Gay, for She Cannot Help the Fact
That She Was Born.'"

"That's a pretty long title, Scraps," said Dorothy.

"That makes it stylish," replied the Patchwork Girl, turning a
somersault and alighting on one stuffed foot. "Now-a-days the titles
are sometimes longer than the songs."

Dorothy left her and walked slowly toward the place, where she met
the Tin Woodman just going up the front steps.

"What are you going to give Ozma on her birthday?" she asked.

"It's a secret, but I'll tell you," replied the Tin Woodman, who was
Emperor of the Winkies. "I am having my people make Ozma a lovely
girdle set with beautiful tin nuggets. Each tin nugget will be