"Oh, I'm sure it was ripe," declared Dorothy, "all, that is, 'cept the
pickle, and a pickle just HAS to be green, Billina. But everything
tasted perfectly splendid, and I'd rather have it than a church
picnic. And now I think I'll pick a dinner-pail, to have when I get
hungry again, and then we'll start out and 'splore the country, and
see where we are."

"Haven't you any idea what country this is?" inquired Billina.

"None at all. But listen: I'm quite sure it's a fairy country, or
such things as lunch-boxes and dinner-pails wouldn't be growing upon
trees. Besides, Billina, being a hen, you wouldn't be able to talk in
any civ'lized country, like Kansas, where no fairies live at all."

"Perhaps we're in the Land of Oz," said the hen, thoughtfully.

"No, that can't be," answered the little girl; because I've been to
the Land of Oz, and it's all surrounded by a horrid desert that no one
can cross."

"Then how did you get away from there again?" asked Billina.

"I had a pair of silver shoes, that carried me through the air; but I
lost them," said Dorothy.

"Ah, indeed," remarked the yellow hen, in a tone of unbelief.

"Anyhow," resumed the girl, "there is no seashore near the Land of Oz,
so this must surely be some other fairy country."