“This cru-el king had a love-ly wife and ten beau-ti-ful chil-dren—­five boys and five girls—­but in a fit of an-ger he sold them all to the Nome King, who by means of his mag-ic arts changed them all in-to oth-er forms and put them in his un-der-ground pal-ace to or-na-ment the rooms.

“Af-ter-ward the King of Ev re-gret-ted his wick-ed ac-tion, and tried to get his wife and chil-dren a-way from the Nome King, but with-out a-vail.  So, in de-spair, he locked me up in this rock, threw the key in-to the o-cean, and then jumped in af-ter it and was drowned.”

“How very dreadful!” exclaimed Dorothy.

“It is, in-deed,” said the machine.  “When I found my-self im-pris-oned I shout-ed for help un-til my voice ran down; and then I walked back and forth in this lit-tle room un-til my ac-tion ran down; and then I stood still and thought un-til my thoughts ran down.  Af-ter that I re-mem-ber noth-ing un-til you wound me up a-gain.”

“It’s a very wonderful story,” said Dorothy, “and proves that the Land of Ev is really a fairy land, as I thought it was.”

“Of course it is,” answered the copper man.  “I do not sup-pose such a per-fect ma-chine as I am could be made in an-y place but a fair-y land.”

“I’ve never seen one in Kansas,” said Dorothy.

“But where did you get the key to un-lock this door?” asked the clock-work voice.

“I found it on the shore, where it was prob’ly washed up by the waves,” she answered.  “And now, sir, if you don’t mind, I’ll wind up your action.”

“That will please me ve-ry much,” said the machine.

So she wound up Number Three, and at once the copper man in a somewhat stiff and jerky fashion walked out of the rocky cavern, took off his copper hat and bowed politely, and then kneeled before Dorothy.  Said he: 

“From this time forth I am your o-be-di-ent ser-vant.  What-ev-er you com-mand, that I will do will-ing-ly—­if you keep me wound up.”

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Tik-tok,” he replied.  “My for-mer mas-ter gave me that name be-cause my clock-work al-ways ticks when it is wound up.”

“I can hear it now,” said the yellow hen.

“So can I,” said Dorothy.  And then she added, with some anxiety:  “You don’t strike, do you?”

“No,” answered Tiktok; “and there is no a-larm con-nec-ted with my ma-chin-er-y.  I can tell the time, though, by speak-ing, and as I nev-er sleep I can wak-en you at an-y hour you wish to get up in the morn-ing.”

“That’s nice,” said the little girl; “only I never wish to get up in the morning.”

“You can sleep until I lay my egg,” said the yellow hen.  “Then, when I cackle, Tiktok will know it is time to waken you.”

“Do you lay your egg very early?” asked Dorothy.

“About eight o’clock,” said Billina.  “And everybody ought to be up by that time, I’m sure.”

5.  Dorothy Opens the Dinner Pail