“Not that I ever hear of.”

“How strange!  But if you will come with me to one of our folk gardens I will show you the way we grow in the Land of the Mangaboos.”

It appeared that these odd people, while they were able to walk through the air with ease, usually moved upon the ground in the ordinary way.  There were no stairs in their houses, because they did not need them, but on a level surface they generally walked just as we do.

The little party of strangers now followed the Prince across a few more of the glass bridges and along several paths until they came to a garden enclosed by a high hedge.  Jim had refused to leave the field of grass, where he was engaged in busily eating; so the Wizard got out of the buggy and joined Zeb and Dorothy, and the kitten followed demurely at their heels.

Inside the hedge they came upon row after row of large and handsome plants with broad leaves gracefully curving until their points nearly reached the ground.  In the center of each plant grew a daintily dressed Mangaboo, for the clothing of all these creatures grew upon them and was attached to their bodies.

The growing Mangaboos were of all sizes, from the blossom that had just turned into a wee baby to the full-grown and almost ripe man or woman.  On some of the bushes might be seen a bud, a blossom, a baby, a half-grown person and a ripe one; but even those ready to pluck were motionless and silent, as if devoid of life.  This sight explained to Dorothy why she had seen no children among the Mangaboos, a thing she had until now been unable to account for.

“Our people do not acquire their real life until they leave their bushes,” said the Prince.  “You will notice they are all attached to the plants by the soles of their feet, and when they are quite ripe they are easily separated from the stems and at once attain the powers of motion and speech.  So while they grow they cannot be said to really live, and they must be picked before they can become good citizens.”

“How long do you live, after you are picked?” asked Dorothy.

“That depends upon the care we take of ourselves,” he replied.  “If we keep cool and moist, and meet with no accidents, we often live for five years.  I’ve been picked over six years, but our family is known to be especially long lived.”

“Do you eat?” asked the boy.

“Eat!  No, indeed.  We are quite solid inside our bodies, and have no need to eat, any more than does a potato.”

“But the potatoes sometimes sprout,” said Zeb.

“And sometimes we do,” answered the Prince; “but that is considered a great misfortune, for then we must be planted at once.”

“Where did you grow?” asked the Wizard.

“I will show you,” was the reply.  “Step this way, please.”

He led them within another but smaller circle of hedge, where grew one large and beautiful bush.