"
They both bowed with much dignity.
"Forgive me for staring so rudely," said the
Scarecrow, "but you are the most beautiful sight
my eyes have ever beheld."
"That is a high compliment from one who is
himself so beautiful," murmured Scraps, casting
down her suspender-button eyes by lowering her
head. "But, tell me, good sir, are you not a
trifle lumpy?"
"Yes, of course; that's my straw, you know.
It bunches up, sometimes, in spite of all my
efforts to keep it even. Doesn't your straw ever
bunch?"
"Oh, I'm stuffed with cotton," said Scraps.
"It never bunches, but it's inclined to pack down
and make me sag."
"But cotton is a high-grade stuffing. I may say
it is even more stylish, not to say aristocratic,
than straw," said the Scarecrow politely. "Still,
it is but proper that one so entrancingly lovely
should have the best stuffing there is going. I--
er--I'm so glad I've met you, Miss Scraps!
Introduce us again, Shaggy."
"Once is enough," replied the Shaggy Man,
laughing at his friend's enthusiasm.
"Then tell me where you found her, and--Dear me,
what a queer cat! What are you made of--gelatine?"
"Pure glass," answered the cat, proud to have
attracted the Scarecrow's attention.
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