"Before long they saw in the distance the towers and flags of Dictionopolis sparkling in the sunshine, and in a few moments they reached the great wall and stood at the gateway to the city. "A-H-H-H-R-R-E-M-M," roared the gateman, clearing his throat and snapping smartly to attention. "This is Dictionopolis, a happy kingdom, advantageously located in the Foothills of Confusion and caressed by gentle breezes from the Sea of Knowledge. Today, by royal proclamation, is market day. Have you come to buy or sell?" "I beg your pardon?" said Milo. "Buy or sell, buy or sell," repeated the gateman impatiently. "Which is it? You must have come here for some reason." "Well, I----" Milo began. "Come now, if you don't have a reason, you must at least have an explanation or certainly an excuse," interrupted the gateman. Milo shook his head. "Very serious, very serious," the gateman said, shaking his head also. "You can't get in without a reason." He thought for a moment and then continued. "Wait a minute; maybe I have an old one you can use." He took a battered suitcase from the gatehouse and began to rummage busily through it, mumbling to himself, "No ... no ... no ... this won't do ... no ... h-m-m-m ... ah, this is fine," he cried triumphantly, holding up a small medallion on a chain. He dusted it off, and engraved on one side were the words "WHY NOT?" "That's a good reason for almost anything-- a bit used perhaps, but still quite serviceable." And with that he placed it around Milo's neck, pushed back the heavy iron gate, bowed low, and motioned them into the city."