Publisher's Synopsis
"Where's the butter, Unc Nunkie?" asked Ojo.Unc looked out of the window and stroked his long beard. Then he turned to the Munchkinboy and shook his head."Isn't," said he."Isn't any butter? That's too bad, Unc. Where's the jam then?" inquired Ojo, standing on astool so he could look through all the shelves of the cupboard. But Unc Nunkie shook his headagain."Gone," he said."No jam, either? And no cake-no jelly-no apples-nothing but bread?""All," said Unc, again stroking his beard as he gazed from the window.The little boy brought the stool and sat beside his uncle, munching the dry bread slowly andseeming in deep thought."Nothing grows in our yard but the bread tree," he mused, "and there are only two moreloaves on that tree; and they're not ripe yet. Tell me, Unc; why are we so poor?"The old Munchkin turned and looked at Ojo. He had kindly eyes, but he hadn't smiled orlaughed in so long that the boy had forgotten that Unc Nunkie could look any other way thansolemn. And Unc never spoke any more words than he was obliged to, so his little nephew, wholived alone with him, had learned to understand a great deal from one word."Why are we so poor, Unc?" repeated the boy."Not," said the old Munchkin."I think we are," declared Ojo. "What have we got?""House," said Unc Nunkie."I know; but everyone in the Land of Oz has a place to live. What else, Unc?""Bread.""I'm eating the last loaf that's ripe. There; I've put aside your share, Unc. It's on the table, soyou can eat it when you get hungry. But when that is gone, what shall we eat, Unc?"
