throne room was flooded with light, "Where are we?"
The Scarecrow had picked himself up, and with outstretched arms came running toward her talking a perfect Niagara of Silver Islandish.
"Have you forgotten your Ozish so soon?" rumbled the Cowardly Lion reproachfully as Dorothy flung her arms around the Scarecrow. The Scarecrow, seeing the Cowardly Lion for the first time, fairly fell upon his neck. Then he brushed his clumsy hand across his forehead.
"Wasn't I talking Ozish?" he asked in a puzzled voice.
"Oh, now you are!" exclaimed Dorothy. And sure enough, the Scarecrow was talking plain Ozish again. (Which I don't mind telling you is also plain English.)
The Knight had been watching this little reunion with hardly repressed emotion. Advancing hastily, he dropped on one knee.
"My good sword and lance are ever at thy service, my Lord Scarecrow!" he exclaimed feelingly.
"Who is this impulsive person?" gulped the Scarecrow, staring in undisguised astonishment at the kneeling figure of the (yes, the "the" is there) Sir Hokus of Pokes.
"He's my Knight Errant, and he's taken such good care of me," explained Dorothy eagerly.
