“Then you can do a few wizzes and get us out of this hole,” declared the tiny one, with much confidence.

“I could if I happened to be a real wizard,” returned the master sadly. “But I’m not, my piggy-wees; I’m a humbug wizard.”

“Nonsense!” cried several of the piglets, together.

“You can ask Dorothy,” said the little man, in an injured tone.

“It’s true enough,” returned the girl, earnestly. “Our friend Oz is merely a humbug wizard, for he once proved it to me. He can do several very wonderful things⁠—if he knows how. But he can’t wiz a single thing if he hasn’t the tools and machinery to work with.”