Bokelskere.no

The cyclone had set the house down, very gently – in the midst of a country of marvellous beauty. There were lovely patches of green sward all about, with stately trees bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers were on every hand, and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered in the trees and bushes. A little way off was a small brook, rushing and sparkling along between green banks and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl who had lived so long on the dry, grey prairies.

«Jeg er Oz, den store og fryktelige,» sa den lille mannen med skjelvende stemme, «men ikke slå meg — vær så snill, ikke gjør det! — og jeg skal gjøre alt dere vil.»