"
"To cut off the roots," said Trot, "would be like cutting off our
fingers and toes."
The Wizard put the little axe back in the black bag and took out a
pair of silver pincers.
"Grow--grow--grow!" he said to the pincers, and at once they grew
and extended until they reached from the raft to the prisoners.
"What are you going to do now?" demanded Cap'n Bill, fearfully
eyeing the pincers.
"This magic tool will pull you up, roots and all, and land you on
this raft," declared the Wizard.
"Don't do it!" pleaded the sailor, with a shudder. "It would hurt
us awfully."
"It would be just like pulling teeth to pull us up by the roots,"
explained Trot.
"Grow small!" said the Wizard to the pincers, and at once they
became small and he threw them into the black bag.
"I guess, friends, it's all up with us, this time," remarked Cap'n Bill,
with a dismal sigh.
"Please tell Ozma, Dorothy," said Trot, "that we got into trouble
trying to get her a nice birthday present. Then she'll forgive us.
The Magic Flower is lovely and wonderful, but it's just a lure to
catch folks on this dreadful island and then destroy them.
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