As the Sawhorse drew the wagon into the main street the travelers
noticed that the place was filled with people, standing in groups and
seeming to be engaged in earnest conversation. So occupied with
themselves were the inhabitants that they scarcely noticed the
strangers at all. So the Wizard stopped a boy and asked:
"Is this Rigmarole Town?"
"Sir," replied the boy, "if you have traveled very much you will have
noticed that every town differs from every other town in one way or
another and so by observing the methods of the people and the way they
live as well as the style of their dwelling places it ought not to be
a difficult thing to make up your mind without the trouble of asking
questions whether the town bears the appearance of the one you
intended to visit or whether perhaps having taken a different road
from the one you should have taken you have made an error in your way
and arrived at some point where--"
"Land sakes!" cried Aunt Em, impatiently; "what's all this
rigmarole about?"
"That's it!" said the Wizard, laughing merrily. "It's a rigmarole
because the boy is a Rigmarole and we've come to Rigmarole Town.
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