L.Frank Baum. The marvelous land of Oz


L.Frank Baum. The marvelous land of Oz

                         Being an account of the
                        further adventures of the
                                Scarecrow
                             and Tin Woodman

                    and also the strange experiences
                   of the highly magnified Woggle-Bug,
                Jack Pumpkin-head, the Animated Saw-Horse
                       and the Gump; the story being

                       A Sequel to The Wizard of Oz
                                    By
                              L. Frank Baum

    Author of Father Goose-His Book; The Wizard of Oz; The Magical Monarch
        of Mo; The Enchanted Isle of Yew; The Life and Adventures of
             Santa Claus; Dot and Tot of Merryland etc. etc.




1. Author's Note

     AFTER the publication of "The Wonderful Wizard  of  OZ"  I  began  to
receive letters from children, telling me of their pleasure in reading the
story and asking me to "write something more" about the Scarecrow and  the
Tin Woodman. At first I considered these little letters, frank and earnest
though they were, in the light of  pretty  compliments;  but  the  letters
continued to come during succeeding months, and even years.
     Finally I promised one little girl, who made a long journey to see me
and prefer her request, - and she is a "Dorothy," by the way - that when a
thousand little girls had written me a thousand little letters asking  for
the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman I would write the  book,  Either  little
Dorothy was a fairy in disguise, and waved her magic wand, or the  success
of the stage production of "The Wizard of OZ" made  new  friends  for  the
story, For the thousand letters reached their destination long since - and
many more followed them.
     And now, although pleading guilty to  long  delay,  I  have  kept  my
promise in this book.

2. L. FRANK BAUM.
                                                       Chicago, June, 1904




                             To those excellent good fellows and comedians
                             David C. Montgomery  and Frank A. Stone whose
                             clever  personations of the  Tin Woodman  and
                             the Scarecrow  have  delighted  thousands  of
                             children  throughout  the land,  this book is
                             gratefully dedicated by THE AUTHOR



3. Tip Manufactures a Pumpkinhead

     In the Country of the Gillikins, which is at the North of the Land of
Oz, lived a youth called Tip. There was more to his name  than  that,  for
old Mombi often declared that his whole name was Tippetarius; but  no  one
was expected to say such a long word when "Tip" would do just as well.
     This boy remembered nothing of his parents, for he had  been  brought
when quite young to be reared by the  old  woman  known  as  Mombi,  whose
reputation, I am sorry to say, was none of  the  best.  For  the  Gillikin
people had reason to  suspect  her  of  indulging  in  magical  arts,  and
therefore hesitated to associate with her.
     Mombi was not exactly a Witch, because the Good Witch who ruled  that
part of the Land of Oz had forbidden any  other  Witch  to  exist  in  her
dominions. So Tip's guardian, however much she  might  aspire  to  working
magic, realized it was unlawful to be more than a Sorceress, or at most  a
Wizardess.
     Tip was made to carry wood from the forest, that the old woman  might
boil her pot. He also worked in the corn-fields, hoeing and  husking;  and
he fed the pigs and milked the four-horned cow that was  Mombi's  especial
pride.
     But you must not suppose he worked all the time,  for  he  felt  that
would be bad for him. When sent to the forest Tip often climbed trees  for
birds' eggs or amused himself chasing the fleet white rabbits  or  fishing
in the brooks with bent pins. Then he would hastily gather his  armful  of
wood and carry it home. And when he was supposed  to  be  working  in  the
corn-fields, and the tall stalks hid him  from  Mombi's  view,  Tip  would
often dig in the gopher holes, or if the mood seized himlie upon his  back
between the rows of corn and take a nap. So, by taking care not to exhaust
his strength, he grew as strong and rugged as a boy may be.
     Mombi's curious  magic  often  frightened  her  neighbors,  and  they
treated her shyly, yet respectfully, because of her weird powers. But  Tip
frankly hated her, and took no pains to  hide  his  feelings.  Indeed,  he
sometimes showed less respect for the old woman than he should have  done,
considering she was his guardian.
     There were pumpkins in Mombi's corn-fields, lying  golden  red  among
the rows of green stalks; and these had been planted and carefully  tended
that the four-horned cow might eat of them in the  winter  time.  But  one
day, after the corn had all been cut and stacked, and Tip was carrying the
pumpkins to the stable, he took a notion to make a "Jack Lantern" and  try
to give the old woman a fright with it.
     So he selected a fine, big pumpkin - one with a lustrous,  orange-red
color - and began carving it. With the point of  his  knife  he  made  two
round eyes, a three-cornered nose, and a mouth shaped like a new moon. The
face, when completed, could not have been considered  strictly  beautiful;
but it wore a smile so big and broad, and was so Jolly in expression, that
even Tip laughed as he looked admiringly at his work.
     The child had no playmates, so he did not know that  boys  often  dig
out the inside of a "pumpkin-jack," and in  the  space  thus  made  put  a
lighted candle to render the face more startling; but he conceived an idea
of his own  that  promised  to  be  quite  as  effective.  He  decided  to
manufacture the form of a man, who would wear this pumpkin  head,  and  to
stand it in a place where old Mombi would meet it face to face.
     "And then," said Tip to himself, with a laugh, "she'll squeal  louder
than the brown pig does when I pull her tail, and shiver with fright worse
than I did last year when I had the ague!"
     He had plenty of time to accomplish this task, for Mombi had gone  to
a village - to buy groceries, she said - and it was a journey of at  least
two days.
     So he took his axe to the forest, and selected some  stout,  straight
saplings, which he cut down and trimmed of all  their  twigs  and  leaves.
From these he would make the arms, and legs, and feet of his man. For  the
body he stripped a sheet of thick bark from around a big  tree,  and  with
much labor fashioned it into a cylinder of about the right  size,  pinning
the edges together with wooden pegs. Then, whistling happily as he worked,
he carefully jointed the limbs and fastened them to  the  body  with  pegs
whittled into shape with his knife.
     By the time this feat had been accomplished it began  to  grow  dark,
and Tip remembered he must milk the cow and feed the pigs. So he picked up
his wooden man and carried it back to the house with him.
     During the evening, by the light of the  fire  in  the  kitchen,  Tip
carefully rounded all the edges of  the  joints  and  smoothed  the  rough
places in a neat and workmanlike manner.  Then  he  stood  the  figure  up
against the wall and admired it. It seemed remarkably  tall,  even  for  a
full-grown man; but that was a good point in a small boy's eyes,  and  Tip
did not object at all to the size of his creation.
     Next morning, when he looked at  his  work  again,  Tip  saw  he  had
forgotten to give the dummy a neck, by means of which he might fasten  the
pumpkinhead to the body. So he went again to the forest, which was not far
away, and chopped from a  tree  several  pieces  of  wood  with  which  to
complete his work. When he returned he fastened a cross-piece to the upper
end of the body, making a hole through the  center  to  hold  upright  the
neck. The bit of wood which formed this neck was  also  sharpened  at  the
upper end, and when all was ready Tip put on the pumpkin head, pressing it
well down onto the neck, and found that it  fitted  very  well.  The  head
could be turned to one side or the other, as he pleased, and the hinges of
the arms and legs allowed him to  place  the  dummy  in  any  position  he
desired.
     "Now, that," declared Tip, proudly, "is really a very fine  man,  and
it ought to frighten several screeches out of old Mombi! But it  would  be
much more lifelike if it were properly dressed."
     To find clothing seemed no easy task; but Tip  boldly  ransacked  the
great chest in which Mombi kept all her keepsakes and  treasures,  and  at
the very bottom he discovered some purple trousers, a red shirt and a pink
vest which was dotted with white spots. These he carried away to  his  man
and succeeded, although the garments did not fit very  well,  in  dressing
the creature in a jaunty fashion. Some knit stockings belonging  to  Mombi
and a much worn pair of his own shoes completed the man's apparel, and Tip
was so delighted that he danced up and down and laughed  aloud  in  boyish
ecstacy.
     "I must give him a name!" he cried. "So  good  a  man  as  this  must
surely have a name. I believe," he added, after  a  moment's  thought,  "I
will name the fellow 'Jack Pumpkinhead!'"



4. The Marvelous Powder of Life

     After considering the matter carefully, Tip  decided  that  the  best
place to locate Jack would be at the bend in the road, a little  way  from
the house. So he started to carry his man there, but found him  heavy  and
rather awkward to handle. After dragging the creature a short distance Tip
stood him on his feet, and by first bending the joints  of  one  leg,  and
then those of the other, at the same time pushing  from  behind,  the  boy
managed to induce Jack to walk to  the  bend  in  the  road.  It  was  not
accomplished without a few tumbles, and Tip really worked harder  than  he
ever had in the fields or forest; but a love of mischief urged him on, and
it pleased him to test the cleverness of his workmanship.
     "Jack's all right, and works fine!" he said to himself, panting  with
the unusual exertion. But just then he discovered the man's left  arm  had
fallen off in the journey so he went back to find it,  and  afterward,  by
whittling a new and stouter pin for the shoulder-joint,  he  repaired  the
injury so successfully that the arm was stronger  than  before.  Tip  also
noticed that Jack's pumpkin head had twisted around  until  it  faced  his
back; but this was easily remedied. When, at last,  the  man  was  set  up
facing the turn in the path where old  Mombi  was  to  appear,  he  looked
natural enough to be  a  fair  imitation  of  a  Gillikin  farmer,  -  and
unnatural enough to startle anyone that came on him unawares.
     As it was yet too early in the day to expect the old woman to  return
home, Tip went down into the valley below  the  farm-house  and  began  to
gather nuts from the trees that grew there.
     However, old Mombi returned earlier than usual. She had met a crooked
wizard who resided in a lonely cave  in  the  mountains,  and  had  traded
several important secrets of magic with him. Having in  this  way  secured
three new recipes, four magical  powders  and  a  selection  of  herbs  of
wonderful power and potency, she hobbled home as fast  as  she  could,  in
order to test her new sorceries.
     So intent was Mombi on the treasures she had  gained  that  when  she
turned the bend in the road and caught a glimpse of the  man,  she  merely
nodded and said:
     "Good evening, sir."
     But, a moment after, noting that the person did not  move  or  reply,
she cast a shrewd glance into his face and  discovered  his  pumpkin  head
elaborately carved by Tip's jack-knife.
     "Heh!" ejaculated Mombi, giving a sort of grunt; "that  rascally  boy
has been playing tricks again! Very good! ve -  ry  good!  I'll  beat  him
blackand-blue for trying to scare me in this fashion!"
     Angrily she raised her stick to smash in the grinning pumpkin head of
the dummy; but a sudden thought made her pause, the  uplifted  stick  left
motionless in the air.
     "Why, here is a good chance to try my new powder!" said she, eagerly.
"And then I can  tell  whether  that  crooked  wizard  has  fairly  traded
secrets, or whether he has fooled me as wickedly as I fooled him."
     So she set down her basket and began fumbling in it for  one  of  the
precious powders she had obtained.
     While Mombi was thus occupied Tip strolled  back,  with  his  pockets
full of nuts, and discovered the old woman standing  beside  his  man  and
apparently not the least bit frightened by it.
     At first he was generally disappointed; but the next moment he became
curious to know what Mombi was going to do. So  he  hid  behind  a  hedge,
where he could see without being seen, and prepared to watch.
     After some search the woman drew from her basket an  old  pepper-box,
upon the faded label of which the wizard had written with a lead-pencil:
     "Powder of Life."
     "Ah - here it is!" she cried, joyfully. "And now let us see if it  is
potent. The stingy wizard didn't give me much of it, but I  guess  there's
enough for two or three doses."
     Tip was much surprised when he overheard this speech. Then he saw old
Mombi raise her arm and sprinkle the powder from the box over the  pumpkin
head of his man Jack. She did this in the same  way  one  would  pepper  a
baked potato, and the powder sifted down from Jack's  head  and  scattered
over the red shirt and pink waistcoat and purple trousers Tip had  dressed
him in, and a portion even fell upon the patched and worn shoes.
     Then, putting the pepper-box back into the basket, Mombi  lifted  her
left hand, with its little finger pointed upward, and said:
     "Weaugh!"
     Then she lifted her right hand, with the thumb  pointed  upward,  and
said:
     "Teaugh!"
     Then she lifted both hands, with all the fingers  and  thumbs  spread
out, and cried:
     "Peaugh!"
     Jack Pumpkinhead stepped  back  a  pace,  at  this,  and  said  in  a
reproachful voice:
     "Don't yell like that! Do you think I'm deaf?"
     Old Mombi danced around him, frantic with delight.
     "He lives!" she screamed: "He lives! he lives!"
     Then she threw her stick into the air and caught it as it came  down;
and she hugged herself with both arms, and tried to do a step  of  a  jig;
and all the time she repeated, rapturously:
     "He lives! - he lives! - he lives!"
     Now you may well suppose that Tip observed all this with amazement.
     At first he was so frightened and horrified that  he  wanted  to  run
away, but his legs trembled and shook so badly that he couldn't.  Then  it
struck him as a very funny thing for Jack to come to life,  especially  as
the expression on his pumpkin face was so droll  and  comical  it  excited
laughter on the instant. So, recovering from his first fear, Tip began  to
laugh; and the merry peals reached old Mombi's ears and  made  her  hobble
quickly to the hedge, where she seized Tip's collar and dragged  him  back
to where she had left her basket and the pumpkinheaded man.
     "You naughty, sneaking, wicked boy!" she exclaimed, furiously:"  I'll
teach you to spy out my secrets and to make fun of me!"
     "I wasn't making fun of you," protested Tip. "I was laughing  at  old
Pumpkinhead! Look at him! Isn't he a picture, though?"
     "I hope you are not reflecting on my personal appearance," said Jack;
and it was so funny to hear his grave voice, while his face  continued  to
wear its jolly smile, that Tip again burst into a peal of laughter.
     Even Mombi was not without a curious interest in the  man  her  magic
had brought to life; for, after staring at  him  intently,  she  presently
asked:
     "What do you know?"
     "Well, that is hard to tell," replied Jack. "For although I feel that
I know a tremendous lot, I am not yet aware how much there is in the world
to find out about. It will take me a little time to discover whether I  am
very wise or very foolish."
     "To be sure," said Mombi, thoughtfully.
     "But what are you going to do with him, now he is alive?" asked  Tip,
wondering.
     "I must think it over," answered Mombi. "But  we  must  get  home  at
once, for it is growing dark. Help the Pumpkinhead to walk."
     "Never mind me," said Jack; "I can walk as well as you can. Haven't I
got legs and feet, and aren't they jointed?"
     "Are they?" asked the woman, turning to Tip.
     "Of course they are; I made  'em  myself,"  returned  the  boy,  with
pride.
     So they started for the house, but when they reached  the  farm  yard
old Mombi led the pumpkin man to the cow stable and  shut  him  up  in  an
empty stall, fastening the door securely on the outside.
     "I've got to attend to you, first," she said,  nodding  her  head  at
Tip.
     Hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for he knew Mombi had a bad  and
revengeful heart, and would not hesitate to do any evil thing.
     They entered the house. It was a round, domeshaped structure, as  are
nearly all the farm houses in the Land of Oz.
     Mombi bade the boy light a candle, while she  put  her  basket  in  a
cupboard and hung her cloak on a peg.  Tip  obeyed  quickly,  for  he  was
afraid of her.
     After the candle had been lighted Mombi ordered him to build  a  fire
in the hearth, and while Tip was  thus  engaged  the  old  woman  ate  her
supper. When the flames began to crackle the boy came to her and  asked  a
share of the bread and cheese; but Mombi refused him.
     "I'm hungry!" said Tip, in a sulky tone.
     "You won't be hungry long," replied Mombi, with a grim look.
     The boy didn't like this speech, for it sounded like a threat; but he
happened to remember he had nuts in his pocket,  so  he  cracked  some  of
those and ate them while the woman rose, shook the crumbs from her  apron,
and hung above the fire a small black kettle.
     Then she measured out equal parts of milk and vinegar and poured them
into the kettle. Next she produced several packets of  herbs  and  powders
and began adding a  portion  of  each  to  the  contents  of  the  kettle.
Occasionally she would draw near the candle and read from a  yellow  paper
the recipe of the mess she was concocting.
     As Tip watched her his uneasiness increased.
     "What is that for?" he asked.
     "For you," returned Mombi, briefly.
     Tip wriggled around upon his stool and stared awhile at  the  kettle,
which was beginning to bubble. Then he  would  glance  at  the  stern  and
wrinkled features of the witch and wish he were any place but in that  dim
and smoky kitchen, where even the shadows cast by the candle upon the wall
were enough to give one the horrors. So an hour passed away, during  which
the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the pot and the hissing  of
the flames.
     Finally, Tip spoke again.
     "Have I got to drink that stuff?" he asked, nodding toward the pot.
     "Yes," said Mombi.
     "What'll it do to me?" asked Tip.
     "If it's properly made," replied Mombi, "it will change or  transform
you into a marble statue."
     Tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration from his  forehead  with  his
sleeve.
     "I don't want to be a marble statue!" he protested.
     "That doesn't matter I want you to  be  one,"  said  the  old  woman,
looking at him severely.
     "What use'll I be then?" asked Tip. "There won't be any one  to  work
for you."
     "I'll make the Pumpkinhead work for me," said Mombi.
     Again Tip groaned.
     "Why don't you change me into  a  goat,  or  a  chicken?"  he  asked,
anxiously. "You can't do anything with a marble statue."
     "Oh, yes, I can," returned  Mombi.  "I'm  going  to  plant  a  flower
garden, next Spring, and I'll  put  you  in  the  middle  of  it,  for  an
ornament. I wonder I haven't thought of that before; you've been a  bother
to me for years."
     At this terrible speech Tip felt the beads of  perspiration  starting
all over his body. but he sat still and shivered and looked  anxiously  at
the kettle.
     "Perhaps it won't work," he mutttered, in a voice that  sounded  weak
and discouraged.
     "Oh, I think it will," answered Mombi, cheerfully. "I seldom  make  a
mistake."
     Again there was a period of silence a silence so long and gloomy that
when Mombi finally lifted the  kettle  from  the  fire  it  was  close  to
midnight.
     "You cannot drink it until it has become quite cold,"  announced  the
old witch for  in  spite  of  the  law  she  had  acknowledged  practising
witchcraft. "We must both go to bed now, and at daybreak I will  call  you
and at once complete your transformation into a marble statue."
     With this she hobbled into her room, bearing the steaming kettle with
her, and Tip heard her close and lock the door.
     The boy did not go to bed, as he had been commanded to do, but  still
sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire.



5. The Flight of the Fugitives

     Tip reflected.
     "It's a hard thing, to be a marble statue," he thought, rebelliously,
"and I'm not going to stand it. For years I've been a bother to  her,  she
says; so she's going to get rid of me. Well, there's an easier way than to
become a statue. No boy could have any fun forever standing in the  middle
of a flower garden! I'll run away, that's what I'll do - and I may as well
go before she makes me drink that nasty stuff in the  kettle."  He  waited
until the snores of the old witch announced she was fast asleep, and  then
he arose softly and went to the cupboard to find something to eat.
     "No use starting on a journey without food,"  he  decided,  searching
upon the narrow shelves.
     He found some crusts of bread; but he had to look into Mombi's basket
to find the cheese she had brought from the village.  While  turning  over
the contents of the basket he came upon the pepper-box which contained the
"Powder of Life."
     "I may as well take this with me," he thought, "or Mombi'll be  using
it to make more mischief with." So he put the box in his pocket,  together
with the bread and cheese.
     Then he cautiously left the house and latched the  door  behind  him.
Outside both moon and stars shone brightly, and the night seemed  peaceful
and inviting after the close and ill-smelling kitchen.
     "I'll be glad to get away," said Tip, softly; "for I never  did  like
that old woman. I wonder how I ever came to live with her."
     He was walking slowly toward the road when a thought made him pause.
     "I don't like to leave Jack Pumpkinhead to the tender mercies of  old
Mombi," he muttered. "And Jack belongs to me, for I made him even  if  the
old witch did bring him to life."
     He retraced his steps to the cow-stable and opened the  door  of  the
stall where the pumpkin-headed man had been left.
     Jack was standing in the middle of the stall, and  by  the  moonlight
Tip could see he was smiling just as jovially as ever.
     "Come on!" said the boy, beckoning."
     "Where to?" asked Jack.
     "You'll know as soon as I do," answered Tip, smiling  sympathetically
into the pumpkin face.
     "All we've got to do now is to tramp."
     "Very well," returned Jack, and walked awkwardly out  of  the  stable
and into the moonlight.
     Tip turned toward the road and the man followed him. Jack walked with
a sort of limp, and occasionally one of the joints of his legs would  turn
backward, instead of frontwise, almost causing  him  to  tumble.  But  the
Pumpkinhead was quick to notice this, and began to take more pains to step
carefully; so that he met with few accidents.
     Tip led him along the path without stopping an  instant.  They  could
not go very fast, but they walked steadily; and by the time the moon  sank
away and the sun peeped over the hills  they  had  travelled  so  great  a
distance that the boy had no reason to fear pursuit from  the  old  witch.
Moreover, he had turned first into one path, and  then  into  another,  so
that should anyone follow them it would  prove  very  difficult  to  guess
which way they had gone, or where to seek them.
     Fairly satisfied that he had escaped - for a time, at least  -  being
turned into a marble statue, the boy  stopped  his  companion  and  seated
himself upon a rock by the roadside.
     "Let's have some breakfast," he said.
     Jack Pumpkinhead watched Tip curiously, but refused to  join  in  the
repast. "I don't seem to be made the same way you are," he said.
     "I know you are not," returned Tip; "for I made you."
     "Oh! Did you?" asked Jack.
     "Certainly. And put you together. And carved your eyes and  nose  and
ears and mouth," said Tip proudly. "And dressed you."
     Jack looked at his body and limbs critically.
     "It strikes me you made a very good job of it," he remarked.
     "Just so-so," replied Tip, modestly; for  he  began  to  see  certain
defects in the construction of his man. "If I'd known  we  were  going  to
travel together I might have been a little more particular."
     "Why, then," said the Pumpkinhead, in a tone that expressed surprise,
"you must be my creator my parent my father!"
     "Or your inventor," replied the boy with a laugh.  "Yes,  my  son;  I
really believe I am!"
     "Then I owe you obedience," continued the man,  "and  you  owe  me  -
support."
     "That's it, exactly", declared Tip, jumping up. "So let us be off."
     "Where are we  going?"  asked  Jack,  when  they  had  resumed  their
journey.
     "I'm not exactly sure," said the boy; "but I believe  we  are  headed
South, and that will bring us, sooner or later, to the Emerald City."
     "What city is that?" enquired the Pumpkinhead.
     "Why, it's the center of the Land of Oz, and the biggest town in  all
the country. I've never been there, myself, but I've heard all  about  its
history. It was built by a mighty  and  wonderful  Wizard  named  Oz,  and
everything there is of a green color - just as everything in this  Country
of the Gillikins is of a purple color."
     "Is everything here purple?" asked Jack.
     "Of course it is. Can't you see?" returned the boy.
     "I believe I  must  be  color-blind,"  said  the  Pumpkinhead,  after
staring about him.
     "Well, the grass is purple, and the trees are purple, and the  houses
and fences are purple," explained Tip. "Even  the  mud  in  the  roads  is
purple. But in the Emerald City everything is green that is  purple  here.
And in the Country of the Munchkins, over at the East, everything is blue;
and in the South country of the Quadlings everything is red;  and  in  the
West country of the Winkies, where the Tin Woodman  rules,  everything  is
yellow."
     "Oh!" said Jack. Then, after a pause, he asked: "Did you  say  a  Tin
Woodman rules the Winkies?"
     "Yes; he was one of those who helped Dorothy to  destroy  the  Wicked
Witch of the West, and the Winkies were so grateful that they invited  him
to become their ruler, - just as the people of the  Emerald  City  invited
the Scarecrow to rule them."
     "Dear me!" said Jack. "I'm getting confused with  all  this  history.
Who is the Scarecrow?"
     "Another friend of Dorothy's," replied Tip.
     "And who is Dorothy?"
     "She was a girl that came here from  Kansas,  a  place  in  the  big,
outside World. She got blown to the Land of Oz by a cyclone, and while she
was here the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman accompanied her on her travels.
"
     "And where is she now?" inquired the Pumpkinhead.
     "Glinda the Good, who rules the Quadlings, sent her home again," said
the boy.
     "Oh. And what became of the Scarecrow?"
     "I told you. He rules the Emerald City," answered Tip.
     "I thought you said it was ruled by  a  wonderful  Wizard,"  objected
Jack, seeming more and more confused.
     "Well, so I did. Now, pay attention, and I'll explain it," said  Tip,
speaking slowly and looking the smiling Pumpkinhead squarely in  the  eye.
"Dorothy went to the Emerald City to ask the Wizard to send  her  back  to
Kansas; and the Scarecrow and the Tin  Woodman  went  with  her.  But  the
Wizard couldn't send her back, because he wasn't so much of a Wizard as he
might have been. And then they got angry at the Wizard, and threatened  to
expose him; so the Wizard made a big balloon and escaped in it, and no one
has ever seen him since."
     "Now, that is very interesting history,"  said  Jack,  well  pleased;
"and I understand it perfectly all but the explanation."
     "I'm glad you do," responded Tip. "After the  Wizard  was  gone,  the
people of the Emerald City made His Majesty, the  Scarecrow,  their  King;
"and I have heard that he became a very popular ruler."
     "Are we going to see this queer King?" asked Jack, with interest.
     "I think we may as well," replied the boy; "unless you have something
better to do."
     "Oh, no, dear father," said the Pumpkinhead. "I am quite  willing  to
go wherever you please."



6. Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic

     The boy, small and rather  delicate  in  appearance  seemed  somewhat
embarrassed at being called "father" by the tall,  awkward,  pumpkinheaded
man, but to deny the relationship would involve another long  and  tedious
explanation; so he changed the subject by asking, abruptly:
     "Are you tired?"
     "Of course not!" replied the other.  "But,"  he  continued,  after  a
pause, "it is quite certain I shall wear out my wooden joints if I keep on
walking."
     Tip reflected, as they journeyed on, that this was true. He began  to
regret that he had not constructed the wooden  limbs  more  carefully  and
substantially. Yet how could he ever have guessed that the man he had made
merely to scare old Mombi with would be brought to  life  by  means  of  a
magical powder contained in an old pepper-box?
     So he ceased to reproach himself, and began to think how he might yet
remedy the deficiencies of Jack's weak joints.
     While thus engaged they came to the edge of a wood, and the  boy  sat
down to rest upon an old sawhorse that some woodcutter had left there.
     "Why don't you sit down?" he asked the Pumpkinhead.
     "Won't it strain my joints?" inquired the other.
     "Of course not. It'll rest them," declared the boy.
     So Jack tried to sit down; but as soon as he bent his joints  farther
than usual they gave way altogether, and he came clattering to the  ground
with such a crash that Tip feared he was entirely ruined.
     He rushed to the man, lifted him to his feet, straightened  his  arms
and legs, and felt of his head to see if by chance it had become  cracked.
But Jack seemed to be in pretty good shape, after all,  and  Tip  said  to
him:
     "I guess you'd better remain standing, hereafter. It seems the safest
way."
     "Very well, dear father." just as you say, replied the smiling  Jack,
who had been in no wise confused by his tumble.
     Tip sat down again. Presently the Pumpkinhead asked:
     "What is that thing you are sitting on?"
     "Oh, this is a horse," replied the boy, carelessly.
     "What is a horse?" demanded Jack.
     "A horse? Why, there are two kinds of horses," returned Tip, slightly
puzzled how to explain. "One kind of horse is alive, and has four legs and
a head and a tail. And people ride upon its back."
     "I understand," said Jack, cheerfully "That's the kind of  horse  you
are now sitting on."
     "No, it isn't," answered Tip, promptly.
     "Why not? That one has four legs, and a head, and a tail." Tip looked
at the saw-horse more carefully, and found that the Pumpkinhead was right.
The body had been formed from a tree-trunk, and a  branch  had  been  left
sticking up at one end that looked very much like a tail. In the other end
were two big knots that resembled eyes, and a place had been chopped  away
that might easily be mistaken for the horse's mouth. As for the legs, they
were four straight limbs cut from trees and  stuck  fast  into  the  body,
being spread wide apart so that the saw-horse would stand  firmly  when  a
log was laid across it to be sawed.
     "This thing resembles a real horse more than I imagined,"  said  Tip,
trying to explain. "But a real horse is alive, and trots and  prances  and
eats oats, while this is nothing more than a dead horse, made of wood, and
used to saw logs upon."
     "If it were alive, wouldn't it  trot,  and  prance,  and  eat  oats?"
inquired the Pumpkinhead.
     "It would trot and  prance,  perhaps;  but  it  wouldn't  eat  oats,"
replied the boy, laughing at the idea." And of course  it  can't  ever  be
alive, because it is made of wood."
     "So am I," answered the man.
     Tip looked at him in surprise.
     "Why, so you are!" he exclaimed. "And the magic powder  that  brought
you to life is here in my pocket."
     He brought out the pepper box, and eyed it curiously.
     "I wonder," said he, musingly, "if it would bring  the  saw-horse  to
life."
     "If it would," returned Jack, calmly for nothing seemed  to  surprise
him" I could ride on its back, and that would save my joints from  wearing
out."
     "I'll try it!" cried the boy, jumping up. "But  I  wonder  if  I  can
remember the words old Mombi said, and the way she held her hands up."
     He thought it over for a minute, and as he had watched carefully from
the hedge every motion of the old witch, and listened  to  her  words,  he
believed he could repeat exactly what she had said and done.
     So he began by sprinkling some of the magic Powder of Life  from  the
pepperbox upon the body of the saw-horse. Then he lifted  his  left  hand,
with the little finger pointing upward, and said: "Weaugh!"
     "What does that mean, dear father?" asked Jack, curiously.
     "I don't know," answered Tip. Then he lifted his right hand, with the
thumb pointing upward and said: "Teaugh!"
     "What's that, dear father?" inquired Jack.
     "It means you must keep quiet!" replied the boy,  provoked  at  being
interrupted at so important a moment.
     "How fast I am learning!" remarked the Pumpkinhead, with his  eternal
smile.
     Tip now lifted both hands above his head, with all  the  fingers  and
thumbs spread out, and cried in a loud voice: "Peaugh!"
     Immediately the saw-horse moved, stretched its legs, yawned with  its
chopped-out mouth, and shook a few grains of the powder off its back.  The
rest of the powder seemed to have vanished into the body of the horse.
     "Good!" called Jack, while the boy looked on  in  astonishment.  "You
are a very clever sorcerer, dear father!"



7. The Awakening of the Saw-horse

     The Saw-Horse, finding himself alive,  seemed  even  more  astonished
than Tip. He rolled his knotty eyes from side  to  side,  taking  a  first
wondering view of the world in which he had now so important an existence.
Then he tried to look at himself; but he had, indeed, no neck to turn;  so
that in the endeavor to see his body he kept circling around  and  around,
without catching even a glimpse of it. His legs were  stiff  and  awkward,
for there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently he bumped against
Jack Pumpkinhead and sent that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined
the roadside.
     Tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as at the persistence of
the Saw-Horse in prancing around in a circle; so he called out:
     "Whoa! Whoa, there!"
     The Saw-Horse paid no attention whatever to  this  command,  and  the
next instant brought one of his  wooden  legs  down  upon  Tip's  foot  so
forcibly that the boy danced away in pain to a safer distance, from  where
he again yelled:
     "Whoa! Whoa, I say!"
     Jack had now managed to raise himself to a sitting position,  and  he
looked at the Saw-Horse with much interest.
     "I don't believe the animal can hear you," he remarked.
     "I shout loud enough, don't I?" answered Tip, angrily.
     "Yes; but the horse has no ears," said the smiling Pumpkinhead.
     "Sure enough!" exclaimed Tip, noting the fact  for  the  first  time.
"How, then, am I going to stop him?"
     But at that instant the Saw-Horse stopped himself,  having  concluded
it was impossible to see his own body. He saw Tip, however, and came close
to the boy to observe him more fully.
     It was really comical to see the creature walk; for it moved the legs
on its right side together, and those on its  left  side  together,  as  a
pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle.
     Tip patted it upon the head, and said "Good  boy!  Good  Boy!"  in  a
coaxing tone; and the Saw-Horse pranced away to examine with  its  bulging
eyes the form of Jack Pumpkinhead.
     "I must find a halter for him," said Tip; and having made a search in
his pocket  he  produced  a  roll  of  strong  cord.  Unwinding  this,  he
approached the Saw-Horse and tied the  cord  around  its  neck,  afterward
fastening the other end to a large tree. The Saw-Horse, not  understanding
the action, stepped backward and snapped the string easily; but it made no
attempt to run away.
     "He's stronger than I thought," said the boy, "and rather  obstinate,
too."
     "Why don't you make him some ears?" asked Jack. "Then  you  can  tell
him what to do."
     "That's a splendid idea!" said Tip. "How did you happen to  think  of
it?"
     "Why, I didn't think of it," answered the Pumpkinhead; "I didn't need
to, for it's the simplest and easiest thing to do."
     So Tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a
small tree.
     "I mustn't make them too big," he said, as he whittled, "or our horse
would become a donkey."
     "How is that?" inquired Jack, from the roadside.
     "Why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and  a  donkey  has  bigger
ears than a horse," explained Tip.
     "Then, if my ears were longer, would I be a horse?" asked Jack.
     "My friend," said Tip, gravely,  "you'll  never  be  anything  but  a
Pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are."
     "Oh," returned Jack, nodding; "I think I understand."
     "If you do, you're a wonder," remarked the boy "but there's  no  harm
in thinking you understand. I guess these ears are  ready  now.  Will  you
hold the horse while I stick them on?"
     "Certainly, if you'll help me up," said Jack.
     So Tip raised him to his feet, and the Pumpkinhead went to the  horse
and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade
and inserted the ears.
     "They make him look very handsome," said Jack, admiringly.
     But those words, spoken close to the Saw-Horse, and being  the  first
sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal  that  he  made  a  bound
forward and tumbled Tip on one  side  and  Jack  on  the  other.  Then  he
continued to rush forward as if frightened  by  the  clatter  of  his  own
foot-steps.
     "Whoa!" shouted Tip, picking himself up; "whoa! you idiot whoa!"  The
SawHorse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just  then  it
stepped a leg into a  gopher-hole  and  stumbled  head-over-heels  to  the
ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically waving its  four  legs  in
the air.
     Tip ran up to it.
     "You're a nice sort of a horse,  I  must  say!"  he  exclaimed.  "Why
didn't you stop when I yelled 'whoa?'"
     "Does 'whoa' mean to stop?"  asked  the  Saw-Horse,  in  a  surprised
voice, as it rolled its eyes upward to look at the boy.
     "Of course it does," answered Tip.
     "And a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn't it?" continued
the horse.
     "To be sure; unless you step over it," said Tip.
     "What a strange place this is," the creature exclaimed, as if amazed.
"What am I doing here, anyway?"
     "Why, I've brought you to life," answered the boy "but it won't  hurt
you any, if you mind me and do as I tell you."
     "Then I will do as you tell me," replied the Saw-Horse, humbly.  "But
what happened to me, a moment ago? I don't seem to be just right, someway.
"
     "You're upside down," explained Tip. "But just keep those legs  still
a minute and I'll set you right side up again."
     "How many sides have I?" asked the creature, wonderingly.
     "Several," said Tip, briefly. "But do keep those legs still."
     The Saw-Horse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that Tip,
after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright.
     "Ah, I seem all right now," said the queer animal, with a sigh.
     "One of  your  ears  is  broken,"  Tip  announced,  after  a  careful
examination. "I'll have to make a new one."
     Then he led the Saw-Horse back to where Jack was vainly struggling to
regain his feet, and after assisting the Pumpkinhead to stand upright  Tip
whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse's head.
     "Now," said he, addressing his steed,  "pay  attention  to  what  I'm
going to tell you. 'Whoa!' means to stop; 'Get-Up!' means to walk forward;
'Trot!' means to go as fast as you can. Understand?"
     "I believe I do," returned the horse.
     "Very good. We are all going on a journey to the Emerald City, to see
His Majesty, the Scarecrow; and Jack Pumpkinhead is going to ride on  your
back, so he won't wear out his joints."
     "I don't mind," said the Saw-Horse. "Anything that  suits  you  suits
me."
     Then Tip assisted Jack to get upon the horse.
     "Hold on tight," he cautioned, "or you may fall off  and  crack  your
pumpkin head."
     "That would be horrible!" said Jack, with a shudder.  "What  shall  I
hold on to?"
     "Why, hold on to his ears," replied Tip, after a moment's hesitation.
     "Don't do that!" remonstrated the Saw-Horse; "for then I can't hear."
     That seemed reasonable, so Tip tried to think of something else.
     "I'll fix it!" said he, at length. He went into the wood  and  cut  a
short length of limb from  a  young,  stout  tree.  One  end  of  this  he
sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of the Saw-Horse,
just behind its head. Next he brought a piece of rock from  the  road  and
hammered the post firmly into the animal's back.
     "Stop! Stop!" shouted the horse; "you're jarring me terribly."
     "Does it hurt?" asked the boy.
     "Not exactly hurt," answered the  animal;  "but  it  makes  me  quite
nervous to be jarred."
     "Well, it's all over now" said Tip,  encouragingly.  "Now,  Jack,  be
sure to hold fast to this post  and  then  you  can't  fall  off  and  get
smashed."
     So Jack held on tight, and Tip said to the horse:
     "Get up."
     The obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking  from  side  to
side as he raised his feet from the ground.
     Tip walked beside the Saw-Horse, quite content with this addition  to
their party. Presently he began to whistle.
     "What does that sound mean?" asked the horse.
     "Don't pay any attention to it," said Tip. "I'm just  whistling,  and
that only means I'm pretty well satisfied."
     "I'd whistle myself, if I could  push  my  lips  together,"  remarked
Jack. "I fear, dear father, that in some respects I am sadly lacking."
     After journeying on for some  distance  the  narrow  path  they  were
following turned into a broad roadway, paved with  yellow  brick.  By  the
side of the road Tip noticed a sign-post that read:

             "NINE MILES TO THE EMERALD CITY."

     But it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the  night  by
the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by  daybreak.  He  led
the SawHorse to a grassy mound upon which grew several  bushy  trees,  and
carefully assisted the Pumpkinhead to alight.
     "I think I'll lay you upon the ground, overnight," said the boy. "You
will be safer that way."
     "How about me?" asked the Saw-Horse.
     "It won't hurt you to stand," replied Tip; "and, as you can't  sleep,
you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us."
     Then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the Pumpkinhead,
and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep.



8. Jack Pumpkinhead's Ride to the Emerald City

     At daybreak Tip was awakened by the Pumpkinhead. He rubbed the  sleep
from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate  a  portion  of  his
bread and cheese. Having thus prepared for a new day the boy said:
     "Let us start at once. Nine miles is quite a distance, but  we  ought
to reach the Emerald  City  by  noon  if  no  accidents  happen."  So  the
Pumpkinhead was again perched upon the  back  of  the  Saw-Horse  and  the
journey was resumed.
     Tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded
to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to  take  on  a
greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the  great
City where the Scarecrow ruled.
     The little party had traveled but a short two miles  upon  their  way
when the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift  river.  Tip
was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man  in  a
ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream.
     When the man reached the bank Tip asked:
     "Will you row us to the other side?"
     "Yes, if you have money," returned the ferryman,  whose  face  looked
cross and disagreeable.
     "But I have no money," said Tip.
     "None at all?" inquired the man.
     "None at all," answered the boy.
     "Then I'll not break my back rowing you  over,"  said  the  ferryman,
decidedly.
     "What a nice man!" remarked the Pumpkinhead, smilingly.
     The ferryman stared at him, but made no  reply.  Tip  was  trying  to
think, for it was a great disappointment to him to  find  his  journey  so
suddenly brought to an end.
     "I must certainly get to the Emerald City," he said to  the  boatman;
"but how can I cross the river if you do not take me?"
     The man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh.
     "That wooden horse will float,"  said  he;  "and  you  can  ride  him
across. As for the pumpkinheaded loon who accompanies you, let him sink or
swim it won't matter greatly which."
     "Don't worry about  me,"  said  Jack,  smiling  pleasantly  upon  the
crabbed ferryman; "I'm sure I ought to float beautifully."
     Tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the  Saw-Horse,  who
did not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. So the boy
led it down into the water and climbed upon its back. Jack also  waded  in
up to his knees and grasped the tail of the horse so that  he  might  keep
his pumpkin head above the water.
     "Now," said Tip, instructing the Saw-Horse, "if you wiggle your  legs
you will probably swim; and if you swim we shall probably reach the  other
side."
     The Saw-Horse at once began to wiggle its legs, which acted  as  oars
and moved the adventurers slowly across the river to the opposite side. So
successful was the  trip  that  presently  they  were  climbing,  wet  and
dripping, up the grassy bank.
     Tip's  trouser-legs  and  shoes  were  thoroughly  soaked;  but   the
Saw-Horse had floated so perfectly that from his  knees  up  the  boy  was
entirely dry. As  for  the  Pumpkinhead,  every  stitch  of  his  gorgeous
clothing dripped water.
     "The sun will soon dry us," said Tip "and, anyhow, we are now  safely
across, in spite of the ferryman, and can continue our journey.
     "I didn't mind swimming, at all," remarked the horse.
     "Nor did I," added Jack.
     They soon regained the road of yellow brick, which  proved  to  be  a
continuation of the road they had left on the other  side,  and  then  Tip
once more mounted the Pumpkinhead upon the back of the Saw-Horse.
     "If you ride fast,"  said  he,  "the  wind  will  help  to  dry  your
clothing. I will hold on to the horse's tail and run after  you.  In  this
way we all will become dry in a very short time."
     "Then the horse must step lively," said Jack.
     "I'll do my best," returned the Saw-Horse, cheerfully.
     Tip grasped the end  of  the  branch  that  served  as  tail  to  the
Saw-Horse, and called loudly: "Get-up!"
     The horse started at a good pace, and Tip followed  behind.  Then  he
decided they could go faster, so he shouted: "Trot!"
     Now, the Saw-Horse remembered that this word was the command to go as
fast as he could; so he began rocking along the road at a tremendous pace,
and Tip had hard work - running faster than he ever had before in his life
- to keep his feet.
     Soon he was out of breath, and although he wanted to call "Whoa!"  to
the horse, he found he could not get the word out of his throat. Then  the
end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing more than a  dead  branch,
suddenly broke away, and the next minute the boy was rolling in  the  dust
of the road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider  dashed  on  and
quickly disappeared in the distance.
     By the time Tip had picked himself up and cleared the dust  from  his
throat so he could say "Whoa!" there was no further need of saying it, for
the horse was long since out of sight.
     So he did the only sensible thing he could do. He sat down and took a
good rest, and afterward began walking along the road.
     "Some time I will surely overtake them," he reflected; "for the  road
will end at the gates of the Emerald City, and they can go no further than
that."
     Meantime Jack was holding fast to the  post  and  the  Saw-Horse  was
tearing along the road like a racer. Neither of them  knew  Tip  was  left
behind, for  the  Pumpkinhead  did  not  look  around  and  the  Saw-Horse
couldn't.
     As he rode, Jack noticed that the grass and trees had become a bright
emerald-green in color, so he guessed they were nearing the  Emerald  City
even before the tall spires and domes came into sight.
     At length a high wall of green stone, studded  thick  with  emeralds,
loomed up before them; and fearing the Saw-Horse would not know enough  to
stop and so might smash them both against this wall, Jack ventured to  cry
"Whoa!" as loud as he could.
     So suddenly did the horse obey that had it not been for his post Jack
would have been pitched off head foremost, and his beautiful face ruined.
     "That was a fast ride, dear father!" he exclaimed; and then,  hearing
no reply, he turned around and discovered for the first time that Tip  was
not there.
     This apparent desertion puzzled the Pumpkinhead, and made him uneasy.
And while he was wondering what had become of the boy, and what  he  ought
to do next under such trying circumstances, the gateway in the green  wall
opened and a man came out.
     This man was short and round, with a fat face that seemed  remarkably
goodnatured. He was clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green hat
upon his head and green  spectacles  over  his  eyes.  Bowing  before  the
Pumpkinhead he said:
     "I am the Guardian of the Gates of the Emerald City.  May  I  inquire
who you are, and what is your business?"
     "My name is Jack Pumpkinhead," returned the other, smilingly; "but as
to my business, I haven't the least idea in the world what it is."
     The Guardian of the Gates looked surprised, and shook his head as  if
dissatisfied with the reply.
     "What are you, a man or a pumpkin?" he asked, politely.
     "Both, if you please," answered Jack.
     "And this wooden horse - is it alive?" questioned the Guardian.
     The horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at  Jack.  Then  it
gave a prance and brought one leg down on the Guardian's toes.
     "Ouch!" cried the man; "I'm sorry I  asked  that  question.  But  the
answer is most convincing. Have you any errand, sir, in the Emerald City?"
     "It seems to me that I have,"  replied  the  Pumpkinhead,  seriously;
"but I cannot think what it is. My father knows all about it,  but  he  is
not here."
     "This is a strange affair very strange!" declared the Guardian.  "But
you seem harmless. Folks do not  smile  so  delightfully  when  they  mean
mischief."
     "As for that," said Jack, "I cannot help my smile, for it  is  carved
on my face with a jack-knife."
     "Well, come with me into my room," resumed the Guardian, "and I  will
see what can be done for you."
     So Jack rode the Saw-Horse through the gateway  into  a  little  room
built into the wall. The Guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very
tall soldier - clothed in a green uniform  -  entered  from  the  opposite
door. This soldier carried a long green gun  over  his  shoulder  and  had
lovely green whiskers that fell quite to his knees. The Guardian  at  once
addressed him, saying:
     "Here is a strange gentleman who doesn't know why he has come to  the
Emerald City, or what he wants. Tell me, what shall we do with him?"
     The Soldier with the Green Whiskers looked at Jack with much care and
curiosity. Finally he shook his  head  so  positively  that  little  waves
rippled down his whiskers, and then he said:
     "I must take him to His Majesty, the Scarecrow."
     But what will His Majesty, the Scarecrow, do  with  him?"  asked  the
Guardian of the Gates.
     "That is His Majesty's  business,"  returned  the  soldier.  "I  have
troubles enough of my own. All outside troubles must be turned over to His
Majesty. So put the spectacles on this fellow, and I'll take  him  to  the
royal palace."
     So the Guardian opened a big box of spectacles and  tried  to  fit  a
pair to Jack's great round eyes.
     "I haven't a pair in stock that will really  cover  those  eyes  up,"
said the little man, with a sigh; "and your head is so big that I shall be
obliged to tie the spectacles on."
     "But why need I wear spectacles?" asked Jack.
     "It's the fashion here," said the Soldier, "and they  will  keep  you
from being blinded by the glitter and glare of the gorgeous Emerald City."
     "Oh!" exclaimed Jack. "Tie them on, by all means. I don't wish to  be
blinded."
     "Nor I!" broke in the Saw-Horse; so a pair of  green  spectacles  was
quickly fastened over the bulging knots that served it for eyes.
     Then the Soldier with the Green Whiskers led them through  the  inner
gate and they  at  once  found  themselves  in  the  main  street  of  the
magnificent Emerald City.
     Sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of  the  beautiful  houses
and the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds.  Even  the  green
marble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a  grand
and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time.
     However, the Pumpkinhead and the Saw-Horse, knowing nothing of wealth
and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw through
their green spectacles. They calmly followed after the green  soldier  and
scarcely noticed the  crowds  of  green  people  who  stared  at  them  in
surprise. When a green dog  ran  out  and  barked  at  them  the  SawHorse
promptly kicked at it with its wooden  leg  and  sent  the  little  animal
howling into one of  the  houses;  but  nothing  more  serious  than  this
happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace.
     The Pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight
into the Scarecrow's presence; but the soldier would not permit  that.  So
Jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a  servant  led  the  Saw-Horse
around to the rear while the Soldier with the Green Whiskers escorted  the
Pumpkinhead into the palace, by the front entrance.
     The stranger was left in a handsomely furnished  waiting  room  while
the soldier went to announce him. It so happened that  at  this  hour  His
Majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of something to  do,  so
he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room.
     Jack felt no fear or embarrassment  at  meeting  the  ruler  of  this
magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs. But
when he entered the room and saw  for  the  first  time  His  Majesty  the
Scarecrow  seated  upon  his  glittering  throne,  he  stopped  short   in
amazement.



9. His Majesty the Scarecrow

     I suppose every reader of this book knows what a  scarecrow  is;  but
Jack Pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at
meeting the remarkable King of the Emerald City  than  by  any  other  one
experience of his brief life.
     His Majesty the Scarecrow  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  faded  blue
clothes, and his head was merely a small sack  stuffed  with  straw,  upon
which eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to  represent
a face. The clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly  or
carelessly that his Majesty's legs and arms seemed  more  bumpy  than  was
necessary. Upon his hands were gloves with long fingers,  and  these  were
padded with cotton. Wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch's  coat  and
also from his neck and boot-tops. Upon his head he  wore  a  heavy  golden
crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown caused
his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thoughtful expression to the painted
face. Indeed,  the  crown  alone  betokened  majesty;  in  all  else  the,
Scarecrow  King  was  but  a  simple  scarecrow  -  flimsy,  awkward,  and
unsubstantial.
     But if the strange appearance of his  Majesty  the  Scarecrow  seemed
startling to Jack, no less wonderful was the form of  the  Pumpkinhead  to
the Scarecrow. The purple trousers and pink waistcoat and red  shirt  hung
loosely over the wooden joints Tip had manufactured, and the  carved  face
on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer considered  life  the
jolliest thing imaginable.
     At first, indeed, His Majesty thought his queer visitor was  laughing
at him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not  without
reason that the Scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the  wisest
personage in the Land of Oz. He made a more  careful  examination  of  his
visitor, and soon discovered that Jack's features were carved into a smile
and that he could not look grave if he wished to.
     The King was the first to speak. After regarding
     Jack for some minutes he said, in a tone of wonder:
     "Where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?
"
     "I beg your Majesty's pardon," returned the Pumpkinhead;  "but  I  do
not understand you."
     "What don't you understand?" asked the Scarecrow.
     "Why, I don't understand your language. You  see,  I  came  from  the
Country of the Gillikins, so that I am a foreigner."
     "Ah, to be sure!"  exclaimed  the  Scarecrow.  "I  myself  speak  the
language of the Munchkins, which is also the language of the Emerald City.
But you, I suppose, speak the language of the Pumpkinheads?"
     "Exactly so, your Majesty" replied the other, bowing; "so it will  be
impossible for us to understand one another."
     "That is unfortunate, certainly," said the  Scarecrow,  thoughtfully.
"We must have an interpreter."
     "What is an interpreter?" asked Jack.
     "A person who understands both my language and your own. When  I  say
anything, the interpreter can tell you what  I  mean;  and  when  you  say
anything the interpreter can tell me what you mean.  For  the  interpreter
can speak both languages as well as understand them."
     "That is certainly clever," said Jack, greatly pleased at finding  so
simple a way out of the difficulty.
     So the Scarecrow commanded the Soldier with  the  Green  Whiskers  to
search among his people until he found one who understood the language  of
the Gillikins as well as the language of the Emerald City,  and  to  bring
that person to him at once.
     When the Soldier had departed the Scarecrow said:
     "Won't you take a chair while we are waiting?"
     "Your Majesty forgets that I  cannot  understand  you,"  replied  the
Pumpkinhead. "If you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to do
so." The Scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair  to  a
position behind the Pumpkinhead. Then he gave Jack a sudden push that sent
him sprawling upon the cushions in so awkward a fashion that he doubled up
like a jackknife, and had hard work to untangle himself.
     "Did you understand that sign?" asked His Majesty, politely.
     "Perfectly," declared Jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head  to
the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that supported
it.
     "You seem hastily made,"  remarked  the  Scarecrow,  watching  Jack's
efforts to straighten himself.
     "Not more so than your Majesty," was the frank reply.
     "There is this difference between  us,"  said  the  Scarecrow,  "that
whereas I will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend."
     At this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand.
She seemed very sweet and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green
eyes and hair. A dainty green silk skirt reached  to  her  knees,  showing
silk stockings embroidered with pea-pods, and green  satin  slippers  with
bunches of lettuce for decorations instead of bows or  buckles.  Upon  her
silken waist clover leaves were embroidered, and she wore a jaunty  little
jacket trimmed with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size.
     "Why, it's little Jellia Jamb!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, as the green
maiden bowed her pretty head before him. "Do you understand  the  language
of the Gillikins, my dear?"
     "Yes, your Majesty, she answered,  "for  I  was  born  in  the  North
Country."
     "Then you shall be our interpreter," said the Scarecrow, "and explain
to this Pumpkinhead all that I say, and also explain to  me  all  that  he
says. Is this arrangement satisfactory?"  he  asked,  turning  toward  his
guest.
     "Very satisfactory indeed," was the reply.
     "Then ask him, to begin with,"  resumed  the  Scarecrow,  turning  to
Jellia, "what brought him to the Emerald City"
     But instead of this the girl, who had been staring at Jack,  said  to
him:
     "You are certainly a wonderful creature. Who made you?"
     "A boy named Tip," answered Jack.
     "What does he say?"  inquired  the  Scarecrow.  "My  ears  must  have
deceived me. What did he say?"
     "He says that your Majesty's brains seem to have come loose," replied
the girl, demurely.
     The Scarecrow moved uneasily upon his throne, and felt  of  his  head
with his left hand.
     "What a fine thing it is to understand two different  languages,"  he
said, with a perplexed sigh. "Ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to
being put in jail for insulting the ruler of the Emerald City."
     "I didn't insult you!" protested Jack, indignantly.
     "Tut - tut!" cautioned the Scarecrow "wait, until  Jellia  translates
my speech. What have we got an interpreter for, if you break out  in  this
rash way?"
     "All right, I'll wait," replied the Pumpkinhead, in a  surly  tone  -
although his face smiled as genially as ever. "Translate the speech, young
woman."
     "His Majesty inquires if you are hungry, said Jellia.
     "Oh, not  at  all!"  answered  Jack,  more  pleasantly,  "for  it  is
impossible for me to eat."
     "It's the same way with me," remarked the  Scarecrow.  "What  did  he
say, Jellia, my dear?"
     "He asked if you were aware that one of your eyes is  painted  larger
than the other," said the girl, mischievously.
     "Don't you believe her, your Majesty, cried Jack.
     "Oh, I don't," answered the Scarecrow, calmly. Then, casting a  sharp
look at the girl, he asked:
     "Are you quite certain you  understand  the  languages  of  both  the
Gillikins and the Munchkins?"
     "Quite certain, your Majesty," said Jellia Jamb, trying hard  not  to
laugh in the face of royalty.
     "Then how is it that I seem to understand them myself?" inquired  the
Scarecrow.
     "Because they are one and the same!" declared the girl, now  laughing
merrily. "Does not your Majesty know that in all the land of  Oz  but  one
language is spoken?"
     "Is it indeed so?" cried the Scarecrow, much relieved to  hear  this;
"then I might easily have been my own interpreter!"
     "It was all my  fault,  your  Majesty,"  said  Jack,  looking  rather
foolish," I thought we must surely speak  different  languages,  since  we
came from different countries."
     "This should be a warning  to  you  never  to  think,"  returned  the
Scarecrow, severely. "For unless one can think  wisely  it  is  better  to
remain a dummy - which you most certainly are."
     "I am! - I surely am!" agreed the Pumpkinhead.
     "It seems to me," continued the Scarecrow, more  mildly,  "that  your
manufacturer spoiled some good pies to create an indifferent man."
     "I assure your Majesty that I did not ask to  be  created,"  answered
Jack.
     "Ah! It was the same in my case," said the King, pleasantly. And  so,
as we differ from all ordinary people, let us become friends."
     "With all my heart!" exclaimed Jack.
     "What! Have you a heart?" asked the Scarecrow, surprised.
     "No; that was only imaginative - I might say, a  figure  of  speech,"
said the other.
     "Well, your most prominent figure seems to be a figure of wood; so  I
must beg you to restrain an imagination which, having no brains, you  have
no right to exercise," suggested the Scarecrow, warningly.
     "To be sure!" said Jack, without in the least comprehending.
     His Majesty then dismissed Jellia Jamb and the Soldier with the Green
Whiskers, and when they were gone he took his new friend by  the  arm  and
led him into the courtyard to play a game of quoits.



10. Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt

     Tip was so anxious to rejoin his man Jack and the Saw-Horse  that  he
walked a full half the distance to the Emerald City  without  stopping  to
rest. Then he discovered that he was hungry and the crackers and cheese he
had provided for the Journey had all been eaten.
     While wondering what he should do in this emergency he  came  upon  a
girl sitting by the roadside. She wore a costume that struck  the  boy  as
being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being of  emerald  green  and
her skirt of four distinct colors - blue in  front,  yellow  at  the  left
side, red at the back and purple at the right side. Fastening the waist in
front were four buttons - the top one blue, the next yellow, a  third  red
and the last purple.
     The splendor of this dress was almost  barbaric;  so  Tip  was  fully
justified in staring at the gown for some moments  before  his  eyes  were
attracted by the pretty face above it. Yes, the face was pretty enough, he
decided; but it wore an expression of discontent coupled  to  a  shade  of
defiance or audacity.
     While the boy stared the girl looked upon him calmly. A lunch  basket
stood beside her, and she held  a  dainty  sandwich  in  one  hand  and  a
hard-boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident appetite that aroused
Tip's sympathy.
     He was just about to ask a share of the luncheon when the girl  stood
up and brushed the crumbs from her lap.
     "There!" said she; "it is time for me to go. Carry that basket for me
and help yourself to its contents if you are hungry."
     Tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat, following for a  time
the strange girl without bothering to  ask  questions.  She  walked  along
before him with swift strides, and there was about her an air of  decision
and importance that led him to suspect she was some great personage.
     Finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran up beside  her  and
tried to keep pace with her swift footsteps - a very difficult  feat,  for
she was much taller than he, and evidently in a hurry.
     "Thank you very much for the sandwiches," said  Tip,  as  he  trotted
along. "May I ask your name?"
     "I am General Jinjur," was the brief reply.
     "Oh!" said the boy surprised. "What sort of a General?"
     "I command the Army of Revolt in this  war,"  answered  the  General,
with unnecessary sharpness.
     "Oh!" he again exclaimed. "I didn't know there was a war."
     "You were not supposed to know it," she returned, "for we  have  kept
it a secret; and considering that our army is composed entirely of girls,"
she added, with some pride, "it is surely  a  remarkable  thing  that  our
Revolt is not yet discovered."
     "It is, indeed," acknowledged Tip. "But where is your army?"
     "About a mile from here,"  said  General  Jinjur.  "The  forces  have
assembled from all parts of the Land of Oz, at  my  express  command.  For
this is the day we are to conquer His Majesty  the  Scarecrow,  and  wrest
from him the throne. The Army of Revolt only awaits  my  coming  to  march
upon the Emerald City."
     "Well!" declared Tip, drawing a long breath,  "this  is  certainly  a
surprising thing! May I ask why  you  wish  to  conquer  His  Majesty  the
Scarecrow?"
     "Because the Emerald City has been ruled by men long enough, for  one
reason," said the girl.
     "Moreover, the City glitters with beautiful  gems,  which  might  far
better be used for rings, bracelets and necklaces;  and  there  is  enough
money in the King's treasury to buy every girl in our  Army  a  dozen  new
gowns. So we intend to conquer the City and run  the  government  to  suit
ourselves."
     Jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and decision  that  proved
she was in earnest.
     "But war is a terrible thing," said Tip, thoughtfully.
     "This war will be pleasant," replied the girl, cheerfully.
     "Many of you will be slain!" continued the boy, in an awed voice.
     "Oh, no", said Jinjur. "What man would oppose a girl, or dare to harm
her? And there is not an ugly face in my entire Army."
     Tip laughed.
     "Perhaps you are right," said he. "But the Guardian of  the  Gate  is
considered a faithful Guardian, and the King's Army will not let the  City
be conquered without a struggle."
     "The Army is old and feeble,"  replied  General  Jinjur,  scornfully.
"His strength has all been used to grow whiskers, and his wife has such  a
temper that she has already pulled more than  half  of  them  out  by  the
roots. When the Wonderful  Wizard  reigned  the  Soldier  with  the  Green
Whiskers was a very good Royal Army, for people feared the Wizard. But  no
one is afraid of the Scarecrow, so his Royal Army don't count for much  in
time of war."
     After this conversation they proceeded some distance in silence,  and
before long reached a large  clearing  in  the  forest  where  fully  four
hundred young women  were  assembled.  These  were  laughing  and  talking
together as gaily as if they had gathered for a picnic instead of a war of
conquest.
     They were divided into four companies, and Tip noticed that all  were
dressed in costumes similar to that worn by General Jinjur. The only  real
difference was that while those girls from the Munchkin  country  had  the
blue strip in front of  their  skirts,  those  from  the  country  of  the
Quadlings had the red strip in front; and those from the  country  of  the
Winkies had the yellow strip in front, and the  Gillikin  girls  wore  the
purple strip in front. All had green waists, representing the Emerald City
they intended to conquer, and the top button on each  waist  indicated  by
its color which country the wearer came from. The uniforms were Jaunty and
becoming, and quite effective when massed together.
     Tip thought this strange Army bore no weapons whatever; but  in  this
he was wrong. For each girl had stuck through the knot of  her  back  hair
two long, glittering knitting-needles.
     General Jinjur immediately mounted the stump of a tree and  addressed
her army.
     "Friends, fellow-citizens, and girls!" she said;  "we  are  about  to
begin our great Revolt against the men of Oz!  We  march  to  conquer  the
Emerald City - to dethrone the Scarecrow King - to  acquire  thousands  of
gorgeous gems - to rifle the royal treasury - and to obtain power over our
former oppressors!"
     "Hurrah!" said those who had listened; but Tip thought  most  of  the
Army was too much engaged in chattering to pay attention to the  words  of
the General.
     The command to march was now given, and the girls  formed  themselves
into four bands, or companies, and set off with eager strides  toward  the
Emerald City.
     The boy followed after them, carrying several baskets and  wraps  and
packages which various members of the Army of Revolt  had  placed  in  his
care. It was not long before they came to the green granite walls  of  the
City and halted before the gateway.
     The Guardian of the  Gate  at  once  came  out  and  looked  at  them
curiously, as if a circus had come to town. He carried  a  bunch  of  keys
swung round his neck by a golden chain; his hands were  thrust  carelessly
into his pockets, and he seemed to have no idea at all that the  City  was
threatened by rebels. Speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said:
     "Good morning, my dears! What can I do for you?"
     "Surrender instantly!" answered General Jinjur, standing  before  him
and frowning as terribly as her pretty face would allow her to.
     "Surrender!" echoed the man, astounded. "Why, it's  impossible.  It's
against the law! I never heard of such a thing in my life."
     "Still, you must surrender!" exclaimed the General, fiercely. "We are
revolting!"
     "You don't look it," said the Guardian, gazing from one  to  another,
admiringly.
     "But we are!" cried Jinjur, stamping her foot, impatiently;  "and  we
mean to conquer the Emerald City!"
     "Good gracious!" returned the surprised Guardian of the Gates;  "what
a nonsensical idea! Go home to your mothers, my good girls, and  milk  the
cows and bake the bread. Don't you know it's a dangerous thing to  conquer
a city?"
     "We are not  afraid!"  responded  the  General;  and  she  looked  so
determined that it made the Guardian uneasy.
     So he rang the bell for the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, and  the
next minute was sorry he had done so. For immediately he was surrounded by
a crowd of girls who drew the knitting-needles from their hair  and  began
Jabbing them at the Guardian with the sharp points  dangerously  near  his
fat cheeks and blinking eyes.
     The poor man howled loudly for mercy  and  made  no  resistance  when
Jinjur drew the bunch of keys from around his neck.
     Followed by her Army the General now rushed to the gateway, where she
was confronted by the Royal Army of Oz - which was the other name for  the
Soldier with the Green Whiskers.
     "Halt!" he cried, and pointed his long gun full in the  face  of  the
leader.
     Some of the girls screamed and ran back, but General  Jinjur  bravely
stood her ground and said, reproachfully:
     "Why, how now? Would you shoot a poor, defenceless girl?"
     "No," replied the soldier. "for my gun isn't loaded."
     "Not loaded?"
     "No; for fear of accidents. And I've forgotten where I hid the powder
and shot to load it with. But if you'll wait a short time I'll try to hunt
them up."
     "Don't trouble yourself," said Jinjur, cheerfully. Then she turned to
her Army and cried:
     "Girls, the gun isn't loaded!"
     "Hooray," shrieked the rebels, delighted at this good news, and  they
proceeded to rush upon the Soldier with the Green Whiskers in such a crowd
that it was a wonder they  didn't  stick  the  knitting-needles  into  one
another.
     But the Royal Army of Oz was too much afraid of  women  to  meet  the
onslaught. He simply turned about and ran with all his might  through  the
gate and toward the royal palace, while General Jinjur and her mob flocked
into the unprotected City.
     In this way was the Emerald City captured without  a  drop  of  blood
being spilled. The Army of Revolt had become an Army of Conquerors!



11. The Scarecrow Plans an escape

     Tip slipped away from  the  girls  and  followed  swiftly  after  the
Soldier with the Green Whiskers. The invading army entered the  City  more
slowly,  for  they  stopped  to  dig  emeralds  out  of  the   walls   and
paving-stones with the points of their knitting-needles.  So  the  Soldier
and the boy reached the palace before the news had spread  that  the  City
was conquered.
     The Scarecrow and Jack Pumpkinhead were still playing  at  quoits  in
the courtyard when the game was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of  the
Royal Army of Oz, who came flying in without his hat or gun,  his  clothes
in sad disarray and his long beard floating a yard behind him as he ran.
     "Tally one for me," said the Scarecrow, calmly "What's wrong, my man?
" he added, addressing the Soldier.
     "Oh! your Majesty - your Majesty! The City is conquered!" gasped  the
Royal Army, who was all out of breath.
     "This is quite sudden," said the Scarecrow. "But please  go  and  bar
all the doors and windows of the palace, while I show this Pumpkinhead how
to throw a quoit."
     The Soldier hastened to do this, while Tip, who had  arrived  at  his
heels, remained in the courtyard to look at the Scarecrow  with  wondering
eyes.
     His Majesty continued to throw the quoits as coolly as if  no  danger
threatened his throne, but the Pumpkinhead, having caught  sight  of  Tip,
ambled toward the boy as fast as his wooden legs would go.
     "Good afternoon, noble parent!" he cried, delightedly." I'm  glad  to
see you are here. That terrible Saw-Horse ran away with me."
     "I suspected it," said Tip. "Did you get hurt?  Are  you  cracked  at
all?"
     "No, I arrived safely," answered Jack, "and his Majesty has been very
kind indeed to me.
     At this moment the Soldier with the Green Whiskers returned, and  the
Scarecrow asked:
     "By the way, who has conquered me?"
     "A regiment of girls, gathered from the four corners of the  Land  of
Oz," replied the Soldier, still pale with fear.
     "But where was my Standing Army at the time?" inquired  his  Majesty,
looking at the Soldier, gravely.
     "Your Standing Army was running," answered the fellow, honestly; "for
no man could face the terrible weapons of the invaders."
     "Well," said the Scarecrow, after a moment's thought, "I  don't  mind
much the loss of my throne, for it's a  tiresome  job  to  rule  over  the
Emerald City. And this crown is so heavy that it makes my head ache. But I
hope the Conquerors have no intention  of  injuring  me,  just  because  I
happen to be the King."
     "I heard them, say" remarked Tip, with some  hesitation,  "that  they
intend to make a rag carpet of your outside and stuff their  sofa-cushions
with your inside."
     "Then I am really in danger," declared his Majesty, positively,  "and
it will be wise for me to consider a means to escape."
     "Where can you go?" asked Jack Pumpkinhead.
     "Why, to my friend the Tin Woodman, who rules over the  Winkies,  and
calls himself their Emperor," was the answer. "I am sure he  will  protect
me."
     Tip was looking out the window.
     "The palace is surrounded by the enemy," said he "It is too  late  to
escape. They would soon tear you to pieces."
     The Scarecrow sighed.
     "In an emergency," he announced, "it is always a good thing to  pause
and reflect. Please excuse me while I pause and reflect."
     "But we also are in danger," said the Pumpkinhead, anxiously." If any
of these girls understand cooking, my end is not far off!"
     "Nonsense!" exclaimed the Scarecrow. "they're too busy to cook,  even
if they know how!"
     "But should I remain  here  a  prisoner  for  any  length  of  time,"
protested Jack," I'm liable to spoil."
     "Ah! then you would not be  fit  to  associate  with,"  returned  the
Scarecrow. "The matter is more serious than I suspected."
     "You," said the Pumpkinhead, gloomily, "are liable to live  for  many
years. My life is necessarily short. So I must take advantage of  the  few
days that remain to me."
     "There, there! Don't worry," answered the Scarecrow  soothingly;  "if
you'll keep quiet long enough for me to think, I'll try to find  some  way
for us all to escape."
     So the others waited in patient silence while the Scarecrow walked to
a corner and stood with his face to the wall for a good five  minutes.  At
the end of that time he faced them with a more  cheerful  expression  upon
his painted face.
     "Where is the Saw-Horse you rode here?" he asked the Pumpkinhead.
     "Why, I said he was a jewel, and so your man locked  him  up  in  the
royal treasury," said Jack.
     "It was the only place I could think  of  your  Majesty,"  added  the
Soldier, fearing he had made a blunder.
     "It pleases me very much," said the Scarecrow. "Has the  animal  been
fed?"
     "Oh, yes; I gave him a heaping peck of sawdust."
     "Excellent!" cried the Scarecrow. "Bring the horse here at once."
     The Soldier hastened away, and presently they heard the clattering of
the horse's wooden  legs  upon  the  pavement  as  he  was  led  into  the
courtyard.
     His  Majesty  regarded  the  steed  critically.  "He   doesn't   seem
especially graceful!" he remarked, musingly. "but I suppose he can run?"
     "He can, indeed," said Tip, gazing upon the Saw-Horse admiringly.
     "Then, bearing us upon his back, he must  make  a  dash  through  the
ranks of the rebels and carry us to my friend the Tin Woodman,"  announced
the Scarecrow.
     "He can't carry four!" objected Tip.
     "No, but he may be induced to carry  three,"  said  his  Majesty.  "I
shall therefore leave my Royal Army Behind. For, from the ease with  which
he was conquered, I have little confidence in his powers."
     "Still, he can run," declared Tip, laughing.
     "I expected this blow" said the Soldier, sulkily; "but I can bear it.
I shall disguise myself by cutting off  my  lovely  green  whiskers.  And,
after all, it is no more dangerous to face those reckless  girls  than  to
ride this fiery, untamed wooden horse!"
     "Perhaps you are right," observed his Majesty. "But, for my part, not
being a soldier, I am fond of danger. Now, my boy, you must  mount  first.
And please sit as close to the horse's neck as possible."
     Tip climbed quickly to his place, and the Soldier and  the  Scarecrow
managed to hoist the Pumpkinhead to a seat just behind him. There remained
so little space for the King that he was liable to fall off as soon as the
horse started.
     "Fetch a clothesline," said the King to his Army,  "and  tie  us  all
together. Then if one falls off we will all fall off."
     And while the Soldier  was  gone  for  the  clothesline  his  Majesty
continued, "it is well for me to be careful, for my very existence  is  in
danger."
     "I have to be as careful as you do," said Jack.
     "Not exactly," replied the Scarecrow. "for if  anything  happened  to
me, that would be the end of me. But if anything  happened  to  you,  they
could use you for seed."
     The Soldier now returned with a long line and tied all  three  firmly
together, also lashing them to the body of the Saw-Horse; so there  seemed
little danger of their tumbling off.
     "Now throw open the gates," commanded the  Scarecrow,  "and  we  will
make a dash to liberty or to death."
     The courtyard in which they were standing was located in  the  center
of the great palace, which surrounded it on all sides. But in one place  a
passage led to an outer gateway, which the Soldier had barred by order  of
his sovereign. It was through this gateway his Majesty proposed to escape,
and the Royal Army now led the Saw-Horse along the  passage  and  unbarred
the gate, which swung backward with a loud crash.
     "Now," said Tip to the horse, "you must save us all. Run as  fast  as
you can for the gate of the City, and don't let anything stop you."
     "All right!" answered the Saw-Horse,  gruffly,  and  dashed  away  so
suddenly that Tip had to gasp for breath and hold firmly to  the  post  he
had driven into the creature's neck.
     Several of the girls, who stood outside  guarding  the  palace,  were
knocked over by the Saw-Horse's mad rush. Others ran screaming out of  the
way, and only one or two jabbed their knitting-needles frantically at  the
escaping prisoners. Tip got one small prick in his left arm, which smarted
for an hour afterward; but the needles had no effect upon the Scarecrow or
Jack Pumpkinhead, who never even suspected they were being prodded.
     As for the Saw-Horse, he made a wonderful record  upsetting  a  fruit
cart, overturning several meek looking men, and finally bowling  over  the
new Guardian of the Gate - a fussy little fat woman appointed  by  General
Jinjur.
     Nor did the impetuous charger stop then. Once outside  the  walls  of
the Emerald City he dashed along the  road  to  the  West  with  fast  and
violent leaps that shook  the  breath  out  of  the  boy  and  filled  the
Scarecrow with wonder.
     Jack had ridden at this mad rate once before,  so  he  devoted  every
effort to holding, with both hands,  his  pumpkin  head  upon  its  stick,
enduring meantime the dreadful jolting with the courage of a philosopher.
     "Slow him up! Slow him up!" shouted the Scarecrow. "My straw  is  all
shaking down into my legs."
     But Tip had no breath to speak, so the Saw-Horse continued  his  wild
career unchecked and with unabated speed.
     Presently they came to the banks of a wide river, and without a pause
the wooden steed gave one final leap and launched them all in mid-air.
     A second later they were rolling, splashing and bobbing about in  the
water, the horse struggling frantically to find a rest for  its  feet  and
its riders being first plunged beneath the rapid current and then floating
upon the surface like corks.



12. The Journey to the Tin Woodman

     Tip was well soaked and dripping water from every angle of his  body.
But he managed to lean forward and shout in the ear of the Saw-Horse:
     "Keep still, you fool! Keep still!"
     The horse at once ceased  struggling  and  floated  calmly  upon  the
surface, its wooden body being as buoyant as a raft.
     "What does that word 'fool' mean?" enquired the horse.
     "It is a term of reproach," answered Tip,  somewhat  ashamed  of  the
expression. "I only use it when I am angry."
     "Then it pleases me to be able to call you a fool, in  return,"  said
the horse. "For I did not make the river, nor put it in our way; so only a
term of, reproach is fit for one who becomes angry  with  me  for  falling
into the water."
     "That is quite evident," replied Tip; "so I will  acknowledge  myself
in the wrong." Then he called out to the Pumpkinhead: "are you all  right,
Jack?"
     There was no reply. So the boy called to the King "are you all right,
your majesty?"
     The Scarecrow groaned.
     "I'm all wrong, somehow," he said, in a weak  voice.  "How  very  wet
this water is!"
     Tip was bound so tightly by the cord that he could not turn his  head
to look at his companions; so he said to the Saw-Horse:
     "Paddle with your legs toward the shore."
     The horse obeyed, and although their progress was slow  they  finally
reached the opposite river bank at a place where  it  was  low  enough  to
enable the creature to scramble upon dry land.
     With some difficulty the boy managed to get  his  knife  out  of  his
pocket and cut the cords that bound the riders to one another and  to  the
wooden horse. He heard the Scarecrow fall  to  the  ground  with  a  mushy
sound, and then he himself quickly dismounted and  looked  at  his  friend
Jack.
     The wooden body, with its gorgeous clothing, still sat  upright  upon
the horse's back; but the pumpkin head was gone, and  only  the  sharpened
stick that served for a neck was visible. As for the Scarecrow, the  straw
in his body had shaken down with the jolting and packed  itself  into  his
legs and the lower part of his body - which appeared very plump and  round
while his upper half  seemed  like  an  empty  sack.  Upon  his  head  the
Scarecrow still wore the heavy crown, which had been sewed on  to  prevent
his losing it; but the head was now so damp and limp that  the  weight  of
the gold and jewels sagged forward and crushed the  painted  face  into  a
mass of wrinkles that made him look exactly like a Japanese pug dog.
     Tip would have laughed - had he not been so  anxious  about  his  man
Jack. But the Scarecrow, however damaged, was all there, while the pumpkin
head that was so necessary to Jack's existence was  missing;  so  the  boy
seized a long pole that fortunately lay near at hand and anxiously  turned
again toward the river.
     Far out upon the waters he sighted the golden  hue  of  the  pumpkin,
which gently bobbed up and down with the motion  of  the  waves.  At  that
moment it was quite out of Tip's reach, but after a time it floated nearer
and still nearer until the boy was able to reach it with his pole and draw
it to the shore. Then he brought it to the  top  of  the  bank,  carefully
wiped the water from its pumpkin face with his handkerchief, and ran  with
it to Jack and replaced the head upon the man's neck.
     "Dear me!" were Jack's first words. "What a  dreadful  experience!  I
wonder if water is liable to spoil pumpkins?"
     Tip did not think a  reply  was  necessary,  for  he  knew  that  the
Scarecrow also stood in need of his help.  So  he  carefully  removed  the
straw from the King's body and legs, and spread it out in the sun to  dry.
The wet clothing he hung over the body of the Saw-Horse.
     "If water spoils pumpkins," observed Jack, with a deep sigh, "then my
days are numbered."
     "I've never  noticed  that  water  spoils  pumpkins,"  returned  Tip;
"unless the water happens to be boiling. If your head  isn't  cracked,  my
friend, you must be in fairly good condition."
     "Oh, my head  isn't  cracked  in  the  least,"  declared  Jack,  more
cheerfully.
     "Then don't worry," retorted the boy. "Care once killed a cat."
     "Then," said Jack, seriously, "I am very glad indeed that I am not  a
cat."
     The sun was fast drying  their  clothing,  and  Tip  stirred  up  his
Majesty's straw so that the warm rays might absorb the moisture  and  make
it as crisp and dry as ever. When this had been  accomplished  he  stuffed
the Scarecrow into symmetrical shape and smoothed out his face so that  he
wore his usual gay and charming expression.
     "Thank you very much," said the monarch, brightly, as he walked about
and found himself  to  be  well  balanced.  "There  are  several  distinct
advantages in being a Scarecrow. For if one has friends near  at  hand  to
repair damages, nothing very serious can happen to you."
     "I wonder if hot sunshine is liable to crack  pumpkins,"  said  Jack,
with an anxious ring in his voice.
     "Not at all - not at all!" replied the  Scarecrow,  gaily."  All  you
need fear, my boy, is old age. When your golden youth has decayed we shall
quickly part company - but you needn't look forward to it; we'll  discover
the fact ourselves, and notify you. But come! Let us resume our journey. I
am anxious to greet my friend the Tin Woodman."
     So they remounted  the  Saw-Horse,  Tip  holding  to  the  post,  the
Pumpkinhead clinging to Tip, and the Scarecrow with both arms  around  the
wooden form of Jack.
     "Go slowly, for now there is no danger of pursuit," said Tip  to  his
steed.
     "All right!" responded the creature, in a voice rather gruff.
     "Aren't you a little hoarse?" asked the Pumpkinhead politely.
     The Saw-Horse gave an angry prance and rolled one knotty eye backward
toward Tip.
     "See here," he growled, "can't you protect me from insult?"
     "To be sure!" answered Tip, soothingly. "I  am  sure  Jack  meant  no
harm. And it will not do for us to quarrel, you know; we must  all  remain
good friends."
     "I'll have nothing more to do with that  Pumpkinhead,"  declared  the
SawHorse, viciously. "he loses his head too easily to suit me."
     There seemed no fitting reply to this speech, so for a time they rode
along in silence.
     After a while the Scarecrow remarked:
     "This reminds me of old times. It was upon this grassy knoll  that  I
once saved Dorothy from the Stinging Bees of the Wicked Witch of the West.
"
     "Do Stinging Bees  injure  pumpkins?"  asked  Jack,  glancing  around
fearfully.
     "They are all dead, so it doesn't matter,"  replied  the  Scarecrow."
And here is where Nick Chopper destroyed the Wicked Witch's Grey Wolves."
     "Who was Nick Chopper?" asked Tip.
     "That is the name of my friend the Tin Woodman, answered his Majesty.
And here is where the Winged Monkeys captured and bound us, and flew  away
with little Dorothy," he continued, after they had traveled a  little  way
farther.
     "Do Winged Monkeys ever eat pumpkins?" asked Jack, with a  shiver  of
fear.
     "I do not know; but you have little cause to, worry, for  the  Winged
Monkeys are now the slaves of Glinda the Good, who  owns  the  Golden  Cap
that commands their services," said the Scarecrow, reflectively.
     Then the stuffed monarch became lost in thought recalling the days of
past  adventures.  And  the  Saw-Horse  rocked   and   rolled   over   the
flower-strewn fields and carried its riders swiftly upon their way.


     Twilight fell, bye and bye, and then the dark shadows  of  night.  So
Tip stopped the horse and they all proceeded to dismount.
     "I'm tired out," said the boy, yawning wearily;  "and  the  grass  is
soft and cool. Let us lie down here and sleep until morning."
     "I can't sleep," said Jack.
     "I never do," said the Scarecrow.
     "I do not even know what sleep is," said the Saw-Horse.
     "Still, we must have consideration for this poor boy, who is made  of
flesh and blood and bone, and gets tired," suggested the Scarecrow, in his
usual thoughtful manner. "I remember it  was  the  same  way  with  little
Dorothy. We always had to sit through the night while she slept."
     "I'm sorry," said  Tip,  meekly,  "but  I  can't  help  it.  And  I'm
dreadfully hungry, too!"
     "Here is a new danger!" remarked Jack, gloomily. "I hope you are  not
fond of eating pumpkins."
     "Not unless they're stewed and made into  pies,"  answered  the  boy,
laughing. "So have no fears of me, friend Jack."
     "What a coward that Pumpkinhead is!" said the Saw-Horse, scornfully.
     "You might be a coward yourself, if  you  knew  you  were  liable  to
spoil!" retorted Jack, angrily.
     "There! - there!" interrupted the Scarecrow; "don't let  us  quarrel.
We all have our  weaknesses,  dear  friends;  so  we  must  strive  to  be
considerate of one another. And since this poor  boy  is  hungry  and  has
nothing whatever to eat, let us all remain quiet and allow him  to  sleep;
for it is said that in sleep a mortal may forget even hunger."
     "Thank you!" exclaimed Tip, gratefully. "Your  Majesty  is  fully  as
good as you are wise - and that is saying a good deal!"
     He then stretched himself upon the grass and, using the stuffed  form
of the Scarecrow for a pillow, was presently fast asleep.



13. A Nickel-Plated Emperor

     Tip awoke soon after dawn, but the Scarecrow had  already  risen  and
plucked, with his clumsy fingers, a double-handful of  ripe  berries  from
some bushes near by. These the boy ate greedily,  finding  them  an  ample
breakfast, and afterward the little party resumed its Journey.
     After an hour's ride they reached the summit of a  hill  from  whence
they espied the City of the Winkies  and  noted  the  tall  domes  of  the
Emperor's palace rising from the clusters of more modest dwellings.
     The Scarecrow became greatly animated at this sight, and exclaimed:
     "How delighted I shall be to see my old friend the Tin Woodman again!
I hope that he rules his people more successfully than I have ruled mine!"
     Is the Tin Woodman the Emperor of the Winkies?" asked the horse.
     "Yes, indeed. They invited him to  rule  over  them  soon  after  the
Wicked Witch was destroyed; and as Nick Chopper has the best heart in  all
the world I am sure he has proved an excellent and able emperor."
     "I thought that 'Emperor' was the title of  a  person  who  rules  an
empire," said Tip, "and the Country of the Winkies is only a Kingdom."
     "Don't mention that to the Tin  Woodman!"  exclaimed  the  Scarecrow,
earnestly. "You would hurt his feelings terribly. He is a proud man, as he
has every reason to be, and it pleases him to  be  termed  Emperor  rather
than King."
     "I'm sure it makes no difference to me," replied the boy.
     The Saw-Horse now ambled forward at a pace so fast  that  its  riders
had hard work to  stick  upon  its  back;  so  there  was  little  further
conversation until they drew up beside the palace steps.
     An aged Winkie, dressed in a uniform of silver cloth, came forward to
assist them to alight. Said the Scarecrow to his personage:
     "Show us at once to your master, the Emperor."
     The man looked from one to another of the  party  in  an  embarrassed
way, and finally answered:
     "I fear I must ask you to  wait  for  a  time.  The  Emperor  is  not
receiving this morning."
     "How is that?" enquired the Scarecrow, anxiously." I hope nothing has
happened to him."
     "Oh, no; nothing  serious,"  returned  the  man.  "But  this  is  his
Majesty's day for being polished; and just  now  his  august  presence  is
thickly smeared with putz-pomade."
     "Oh, I see!" cried the Scarecrow, greatly reassured. "My  friend  was
ever inclined to be a dandy, and I suppose he is now more proud than  ever
of his personal appearance."
     "He is, indeed," said the man, with a polite bow. "Our mighty Emperor
has lately caused himself to be nickel-plated."
     "Good Gracious!" the Scarecrow exclaimed at hearing this. "If his wit
bears the same polish, how sparkling it must be! But show us in - I'm sure
the Emperor will receive us, even in his present state"
     "The Emperor's state is always magnificent," said  the  man.  "But  I
will venture to tell him of your arrival, and will  receive  his  commands
concerning you."
     So the party followed the servant into a splendid ante-room, and  the
SawHorse ambled awkwardly after them, having no  knowledge  that  a  horse
might be expected to remain outside.
     The travelers were at first somewhat awed by their surroundings,  and
even the Scarecrow seemed impressed as he examined the  rich  hangings  of
silver cloth caught up into knots and fastened with tiny silver axes. Upon
a handsome center-table stood a large silver oil-can, richly engraved with
scenes from the past adventures of the Tin Woodman, Dorothy, the  Cowardly
Lion and the Scarecrow: the lines of the engraving being traced  upon  the
silver in yellow gold. On the walls hung several portraits,  that  of  the
Scarecrow seeming to be the most prominent and carefully executed, while a
the large painting of the famous Wizard of Oz, in act  of  presenting  the
Tin Woodman with a heart, covered almost one entire end of the room.
     While the visitors gazed at these things in  silent  admiration  they
suddenly heard a loud voice in the next room exclaim:
     "Well! well! well! What a great surprise!"
     And then the door burst open and Nick Chopper rushed into their midst
and caught the Scarecrow in a close and loving embrace  that  creased  him
into many folds and wrinkles.
     "My dear old friend!  My  noble  comrade!"  cried  the  Tin  Woodman,
joyfully. "how delighted!," I am to meet you once again.
     And then he released the Scarecrow and held him at arms' length while
he surveyed the beloved, painted features.
     But, alas! the face of the Scarecrow and many portions  of  his  body
bore great blotches of putz-pomade; for the Tin Woodman, in his  eagerness
to welcome his friend, had quite forgotten the condition of his toilet and
had rubbed the thick coating of paste from his own body  to  that  of  his
comrade.
     "Dear me!" said the Scarecrow dolefully. "What a mess I'm in!"
     "Never mind, my friend," returned the Tin Woodman," I'll send you  to
my Imperial Laundry, and you'll come out as good as new."
     "Won't I be mangled?" asked the Scarecrow.
     "No, indeed!" was the reply. "But tell  me,  how  came  your  Majesty
here? and who are your companions?"
     The  Scarecrow,  with  great  politeness,  introduced  Tip  and  Jack
Pumpkinhead, and the latter personage seemed to interest the  Tin  Woodman
greatly.
     "You are not very substantial, I must admit," said the Emperor.  "but
you are certainly unusual, and therefore worthy to become a member of  our
select society."
     "I thank your Majesty, said Jack, humbly.
     "I hope you are enjoying good health?" continued the Woodman.
     "At present, yes;" replied the Pumpkinhead, with a sigh; "but I am in
constant terror of the day when I shall spoil."
     "Nonsense!" said the Emperor - but in a kindly, sympathetic tone. "Do
not, I beg of you, dampen today's sun with the showers  of  tomorrow.  For
before your head has time to spoil you can have it canned, and in that way
it may be preserved indefinitely."
     Tip, during this  conversation,  was  looking  at  the  Woodman  with
undisguised amazement, and noticed that  the  celebrated  Emperor  of  the
Winkies was composed entirely  of  pieces  of  tin,  neatly  soldered  and
riveted together into the form of a man. He rattled and clanked a  little,
as he moved, but in the main he seemed to be  most  cleverly  constructed,
and his appearance was only marred by the thick coating of polishing-paste
that covered him from head to foot.
     The boy's intent gaze caused the Tin Woodman to remember that he  was
not in the most presentable condition, so he begged his friends to  excuse
him while he retired to his private apartment and allowed his servants  to
polish him. This was accomplished in a short time, and  when  the  emperor
returned his nickel-plated body shone so magnificently that the  Scarecrow
heartily congratulated him on his improved appearance.
     "That nickel-plate was, I confess, a happy thought," said Nick;  "and
it was the more necessary because I had become somewhat  scratched  during
my adventurous experiences. You will observe this engraved  star  upon  my
left breast. It not only indicates where  my  excellent  heart  lies,  but
covers very neatly the patch made by the Wonderful Wizard when  he  placed
that valued organ in my breast with his own skillful hands."
     "Is  your  heart,  then,  a  hand-organ?"  asked   the   Pumpkinhead,
curiously.
     "By no means," responded the emperor, with  dignity.  "It  is,  I  am
convinced, a strictly orthodox heart, although somewhat larger and  warmer
than most people possess."
     Then he turned to the Scarecrow and asked:
     "Are your subjects happy and contented, my dear friend?"
     "I cannot, say" was the reply. "for the girls of  Oz  have  risen  in
revolt and driven me out of the emerald City."
     "Great Goodness!" cried the  Tin  Woodman,  "What  a  calamity!  They
surely do not complain of your wise and gracious rule?"
     "No; but they say it is a poor  rule  that  don't  work  both  ways,"
answered the Scarecrow; "and these females are also of  the  opinion  that
men have ruled the land long enough. So they have captured my city, robbed
the treasury of all its jewels, and are running things to suit themselves.
"
     "Dear me! What an extraordinary idea!" cried  the  Emperor,  who  was
both shocked and surprised.
     "And I heard some of them say," said Tip, "that they intend to  march
here and capture the castle and city of the Tin Woodman."
     "Ah! we must not give them  time  to  do  that,"  said  the  Emperor,
quickly; "we will go at once and recapture the Emerald City and place  the
Scarecrow again upon his throne."
     "I was sure you would help me," remarked the Scarecrow in  a  pleased
voice. "How large an army can you assemble?"
     "We do not need an army," replied the Woodman. "We four, with the aid
of my gleaming axe, are enough to strike terror into  the  hearts  of  the
rebels."
     "We five," corrected the Pumpkinhead.
     "Five?" repeated the Tin Woodman.
     "Yes; the Saw-Horse is brave and fearless," answered Jack, forgetting
his recent quarrel with the quadruped.
     The Tin Woodman looked around him in a puzzled way, for the Saw-Horse
had until now remained quietly standing in a corner, where the Emperor had
not noticed him. Tip immediately called the odd-looking creature to  them,
and it  approached  so  awkwardly  that  it  nearly  upset  the  beautiful
center-table and the engraved oil-can.
     "I begin to think," remarked the Tin Woodman as he  looked  earnestly
at the Saw-Horse, "that wonders will never cease! How came  this  creature
alive?"
     "I did it with a magic powder," modestly asserted the boy.  "and  the
SawHorse has been very useful to us."
     "He enabled us to escape the rebels," added the Scarecrow.
     "Then we must surely accept him as a comrade," declared the  emperor.
"A live Saw-Horse is a distinct novelty, and should prove  an  interesting
study. Does he know anything?"
     "Well, I cannot claim any great experience in  life,"  the  Saw-Horse
answered for himself. "but I seem to learn  very  quickly,  and  often  it
occurs to me that I know more than any of those around me."
     "Perhaps you do," said the emperor; "for experience does  not  always
mean wisdom. But time is  precious  Just  now,  so  let  us  quickly  make
preparations to start upon our Journey.
     The emperor called his Lord High Chancellor and instructed him how to
run the kingdom during his absence.  Meanwhile  the  Scarecrow  was  taken
apart and the painted sack that  served  him  for  a  head  was  carefully
laundered and restuffed with the brains originally given him by the  great
Wizard. His clothes were also cleaned and pressed by the Imperial tailors,
and his crown polished and again sewed upon his head, for the Tin  Woodman
insisted he should not renounce this badge of royalty. The  Scarecrow  now
presented a very respectable appearance, and although in no  way  addicted
to vanity he was quite pleased with himself and strutted a  trifle  as  he
walked. While this was being done Tip mended  the  wooden  limbs  of  Jack
Pumpkinhead and made them stronger than before, and the Saw-Horse was also
inspected to see if he was in good working order.
     Then bright and early the next morning they set out upon  the  return
Journey to the emerald City, the Tin Woodman bearing upon his  shoulder  a
gleaming axe and leading the way, while  the  Pumpkinhead  rode  upon  the
Saw-Horse and Tip and the Scarecrow walked upon either side to  make  sure
that he didn't fall off or become damaged.



14. Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E.

     Now, General Jinjur - who, you will remember, commanded the  Army  of
Revolt - was rendered very uneasy by the escape of the Scarecrow from  the
Emerald City. She feared, and with good reason, that if  his  Majesty  and
the Tin Woodman Joined forces, it would mean danger to her and her  entire
army; for the people of Oz had not yet forgotten the deeds of these famous
heroes, who had passed successfully through so many startling adventures.
     So Jinjur sent post-haste for old Mombi, the witch, and promised  her
large rewards if she would come to the assistance of the rebel army.
     Mombi was furious at the trick Tip had played upon her as well as  at
his escape and the theft of the precious Powder of Life; so she needed  no
urging to induce her to travel to the Emerald City  to  assist  Jinjur  in
defeating the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, who had made Tip one of their
friends.
     Mombi had no sooner arrived at the royal palace than she  discovered,
by means of her secret magic, that  the  adventurers  were  starting  upon
their Journey to the Emerald City; so she retired to a small room high  up
in a tower and locked herself in while she  practised  such  arts  as  she
could command to prevent the return of the Scarecrow and his companions.
     That was why the Tin Woodman presently stopped and said:
     "Something very curious has happened. I ought to know  by  heart  and
every step of this Journey, yet I fear we have already lost our way."
     "That is quite impossible!" protested  the  Scarecrow.  "Why  do  you
think, my dear friend, that we have gone astray?"
     "Why, here before us is a great field of sunflowers - and I never saw
this field before in all my life."
     At these words they all looked around, only to find  that  they  were
indeed surrounded by a field of tall stalks, every stalk  bearing  at  its
top a gigantic sunflower. And not only were these flowers almost  blinding
in their vivid hues of red and gold, but each one whirled around upon  its
stalk like a miniature wind-mill, completely dazzling the  vision  of  the
beholders and so mystifying them that they knew not which way to turn.
     "It's witchcraft!" exclaimed Tip.
     While they paused, hesitating and wondering, the Tin Woodman  uttered
a cry of impatience and advanced with swinging axe to cut down the  stalks
before him. But now the sunflowers suddenly stopped their rapid  whirling,
and the travelers plainly saw a girl's face appear in the center  of  each
flower. These lovely faces looked upon the astonished  band  with  mocking
smiles, and then burst into a chorus of merry laughter at the dismay their
appearance caused.
     "Stop! stop!" cried Tip, seizing the Woodman's arm;  "they're  alive!
they're girls!"
     At that moment the flowers began whirling again, and the faces  faded
away and were lost in the rapid revolutions.
     The Tin Woodman dropped his axe and sat down upon the ground.
     "It would be heartless to chop down those pretty creatures," said he,
despondently. "and yet I do not know how else we can proceed upon our way"
     "They looked to me strangely like the faces of the Army  of  Revolt,"
mused the Scarecrow. "But I cannot  conceive  how  the  girls  could  have
followed us here so quickly."
     "I believe it's magic," said Tip, positively, "and  that  someone  is
playing a trick upon us. I've known old Mombi do things like that  before.
Probably it's nothing more than an illusion, and there are  no  sunflowers
here at all."
     "Then let us shut our eyes and walk forward," suggested the Woodman.
     "Excuse me," replied the Scarecrow. "My eyes are not painted to shut.
Because you happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine  we  are  all
built in the same way."
     "And the eyes of the Saw-Horse are knot  eyes,"  said  Jack,  leaning
forward to examine them.
     "Nevertheless, you must ride quickly forward," commanded Tip, "and we
will follow after you and so try to escape. My eyes are already so dazzled
that I can scarcely see."
     So the Pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and Tip grasped the stub tail
of the Saw-Horse and followed with closed eyes. The Scarecrow and the  Tin
Woodman brought up the rear, and before they had gone many yards a  Joyful
shout from Jack announced that the way was clear before them.
     Then all paused to look backward, but not a trace  of  the  field  of
sunflowers remained.
     More cheerfully, now they proceeded upon their Journey; but old Mombi
had so changed the appearance of the landscape that they would surely have
been lost had not the Scarecrow wisely concluded to take  their  direction
from the sun. For no witch-craft could change the course of the  sun,  and
it was therefore a safe guide.
     However, other difficulties lay before them.  The  Saw-Horse  stepped
into a rabbit hole and fell to the ground.  The  Pumpkinhead  was  pitched
high into the air, and his history would probably have ended at that exact
moment had not the  Tin  Woodman  skillfully  caught  the  pumpkin  as  it
descended and saved it from injury.
     Tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and replaced Jack  upon  his
feet. But the Saw-Horse did not escape so easily. For  when  his  leg  was
pulled from the rabbit hole it was found to be broken short off, and  must
be replaced or repaired before he could go a step farther.
     "This is quite serious," said the Tin Woodman." If there  were  trees
near by I might soon manufacture another leg for this animal; but I cannot
see even a shrub for miles around."
     "And there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land  of
Oz," added the Scarecrow, disconsolately.
     "Then what shall we do?" enquired the boy.
     "I suppose I must start my brains working," replied his  Majesty  the
Scarecrow; "for experience has, taught me that I can do anything if I  but
take time to think it out."
     "Let us all think," said Tip; "and perhaps we shall  find  a  way  to
repair the Saw-Horse."
     So they sat in a row upon the grass and began  to  think,  while  the
Saw-Horse occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb.
     "Does it hurt?" asked the Tin Woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice.
     "Not in the least," returned the Saw-Horse; "but my pride is  injured
to find that my anatomy is so brittle."
     For a time the little group remained in silent thought. Presently the
Tin Woodman raised his head and looked over the fields.
     "What sort of creature  is  that  which  approaches  us?"  he  asked,
wonderingly.
     The others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward  them  the
most extraordinary object they had ever beheld. It  advanced  quickly  and
noiselessly over the soft grass and in a  few  minutes  stood  before  the
adventurers and regarded them with an astonishment equal to their own.
     The Scarecrow was calm under all circumstances.
     "Good morning!" he said, politely.
     The stranger removed his hat with a flourish,  bowed  very  low,  and
then responded:
     "Good morning, one and all.  I  hope  you  are,  as  an  aggregation,
enjoying excellent health. Permit me to present my card."
     With this courteous speech it extended a card toward  the  Scarecrow,
who accepted it, turned it over and over, and handed it with  a  shake  of
his head to Tip.
     The boy read aloud:

              "MR. H. M. WOGGLE-BUG, T. E."

     "Dear me!" ejaculated the Pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently.
     "How very peculiar!" said the Tin Woodman.
     Tip's eyes were round and wondering, and the Saw-Horse uttered a sigh
and turned away its head.
     "Are you really a Woggle-Bug?" enquired the Scarecrow.
     "Most certainly, my dear sir!" answered the  stranger,  briskly.  "Is
not my name upon the card?"
     "It is," said the Scarecrow. "But may I ask what 'H. M.' stands for?"
     "'H. M.' means Highly Magnified," returned the Woggle-Bug, proudly.
     "Oh, I see." The Scarecrow viewed the stranger critically.  "And  are
you, in truth, highly magnified?"
     "Sir," said the Woggle-Bug, "I take you for a gentleman  of  judgment
and discernment. Does it not occur to you that I am several thousand times
greater than any Woggle-Bug you ever saw before? Therefore it  is  plainly
evident that I am Highly Magnified, and there is no good  reason  why  you
should doubt the fact."
     "Pardon me," returned the Scarecrow. "My brains  are  slightly  mixed
since I was last laundered. Would it be improper for me to ask, also, what
the 'T.E.' at the end of your name stands for?"
     "Those letters express my degree," answered the  Woggle-Bug,  with  a
condescending smile. "To be more explicit, the initials  mean  that  I  am
Thoroughly Educated."
     "Oh!" said the Scarecrow, much relieved.
     Tip had not yet taken his eyes off this wonderful personage. What  he
saw was a great, round, buglike body supported upon two slender legs which
ended in delicate feet  -  the  toes  curling  upward.  The  body  of  the
Woggle-Bug was rather flat, and judging from what could be seen of it  was
of a glistening dark brown color  upon  the  back,  while  the  front  was
striped with alternate bands of light brown and white,  blending  together
at the edges. Its arms were fully as slender  as  its  legs,  and  upon  a
rather long neck was perched its head - not unlike  the  head  of  a  man,
except that its nose ended in a curling antenna, or "feeler," and its ears
from the upper points bore antennae that decorated the sides of  its  head
like two miniature, curling pig tails. It must be admitted that the round,
black eyes were rather bulging in appearance; but the expression upon  the
Woggle-Bug's face was by no means unpleasant.
     For dress the insect wore a dark-blue swallowtail coat with a  yellow
silk lining and a flower in the button-hole; a vest  of  white  duck  that
stretched tightly across the wide  body;  knickerbockers  of  fawn-colored
plush, fastened at the knees with gilt  buckles;  and,  perched  upon  its
small head, was jauntily set a tall silk hat.
     Standing upright before our amazed friends the Woggle-Bug appeared to
be fully as tall as the Tin Woodman; and surely no bug in all the Land  of
Oz had ever before attained so enormous a size.
     "I confess," said the Scarecrow, "that  your  abrupt  appearance  has
caused me surprise, and no doubt  has  startled  my  companions.  I  hope,
however, that this circumstance will not distress you. We  shall  probably
get used to you in time."
     "Do not apologize, I beg of you!" returned the Woggle-Bug, earnestly.
"It affords me great pleasure to surprise people; for surely I  cannot  be
classed with ordinary insects  and  am  entitled  to  both  curiosity  and
admiration from those I meet."
     "You are, indeed," agreed his Majesty.
     "If you will permit me  to  seat  myself  in  your  august  company,"
continued the stranger, "I will gladly relate my history, so that you will
be better able to  comprehend  my  unusual  -  may  I  say  remarkable?  -
appearance."
     "You may say what you please," answered the Tin Woodman, briefly.
     So the Woggle-Bug sat down upon the grass, facing the little group of
wanderers, and told them the following story:



15. A Highly Magnified History

     "It is but honest that I should acknowledge at the  beginning  of  my
recital that I was born an ordinary Woggle-Bug," began the creature, in  a
frank and friendly tone. "Knowing no better, I used my arms as well as  my
legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid  among  the
roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects smaller than
myself to feed upon.
     "The chill nights rendered me stiff and motionless,  for  I  wore  no
clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new  life  and
restored me to activity. A  horrible  existence  is  this,  but  you  must
remember it is the regular ordained existence of Woggle-Bugs, as  well  as
of many other tiny creatures that inhabit the earth.
     "But Destiny had singled me out, humble though I was, for  a  grander
fate! One day I crawled near to a country school house, and  my  curiosity
being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, I made bold to
enter and creep along a crack between two boards until I reached  the  far
end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat the master at  his
desk.
     "No one noticed so small a creature as a Woggle-Bug, and when I found
that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine,  I
resolved to establish my future home beside it. So I found a charming nest
between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months.
     "Professor Nowitall is, doubtless, the most  famous  scholar  in  the
land of Oz, and after a few days I began to listen  to  the  lectures  and
discourses he gave his pupils. Not one of them was more attentive than the
humble, unnoticed Woggle-Bug, and  I  acquired  in  this  way  a  fund  of
knowledge that I will myself confess is simply marvelous. That  is  why  I
place 'T.E.' Thoroughly Educated upon my cards; for my greatest pride lies
in the fact that the world cannot produce another Woggle-Bug with a  tenth
part of my own culture and erudition."
     "I do not blame you," said the Scarecrow. "Education is a thing to be
proud of. I'm educated myself. The mess of brains given me  by  the  Great
Wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled."
     "Nevertheless," interrupted the Tin Woodman,  "a  good  heart  is,  I
believe, much more desirable than education or brains."
     "To me," said the Saw-Horse, "a  good  leg  is  more  desirable  than
either."
     "Could seeds be considered in the  light  of  brains?"  enquired  the
Pumpkinhead, abruptly.
     "Keep quiet!" commanded Tip, sternly.
     "Very well, dear father," answered the obedient Jack.
     The Woggle-Bug listened patiently -  even  respectfully  -  to  these
remarks, and then resumed his story.
     "I must have lived fully three years in  that  secluded  school-house
hearth," said he, "drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of  limpid
knowledge before me."
     "Quite  poetical,"  commented  the  Scarecrow,   nodding   his   head
approvingly.
     "But one, day" continued the Bug, "a marvelous circumstance  occurred
that altered my very existence and brought me to my  present  pinnacle  of
greatness. The Professor discovered me in the act of crawling  across  the
hearth, and before I could escape he had caught me between his  thumb  and
forefinger.
     "'My dear children,' said he, 'I have captured a Woggle-Bug - a  very
rare and interesting specimen. Do any of you know what a Woggle-Bug is?'
     "'No!' yelled the scholars, in chorus.
     "'Then,'  said  the  Professor,   'I   will   get   out   my   famous
magnifying-glass and throw the insect upon a screen in a  highly-magnified
condition, that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction  and
become acquainted with its habits and manner of life.'
     "He then brought from a  cupboard  a  most  curious  instrument,  and
before I could realize what had happened I  found  myself  thrown  upon  a
screen in a highly-magnified state - even as you now behold me.
     "The students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward
to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the  sill  of
an open window where they could see more plainly.
     "'Behold!'  cried   the   Professor,   in   a   loud   voice,   'this
highly-magnified Woggle-Bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!
'
     "Being Thoroughly  Educated,  and  knowing  what  is  required  of  a
cultured gentleman, at this juncture I stood upright and, placing my  hand
upon my bosom, made a very polite bow. My action, being  unexpected,  must
have startled  them,  for  one  of  the  little  girls  perched  upon  the
window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the  window,  drawing  her
companion with her as she disappeared.
     "The Professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed  away  through  the
door to see if the poor children were injured by the  fall.  The  scholars
followed after him in a wild mob, and I was left alone in the school-room,
still in a Highly-Magnified state and free to do as I pleased.
     "It immediately occurred to me that this was a  good  opportunity  to
escape. I was proud of my great size, and realized that now I could safely
travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would  make  me  a
fit associate for the most learned person I might chance to meet.
     "So, while the Professor picked the little  girls  -  who  were  more
frightened than hurt - off the ground, and the pupils clustered around him
closely grouped, I calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a corner,
and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near"
     "Wonderful!" exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, admiringly.
     "It was, indeed," agreed the Woggle-Bug.  "I  have  never  ceased  to
congratulate myself for escaping while I was Highly Magnified; for even my
excessive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had I remained a
tiny, insignificant insect."
     "I didn't know before," said Tip, looking at the  Woggle-Bug  with  a
puzzled expression, "that insects wore clothes."
     "Nor do they, in their natural state," returned the stranger. "But in
the course of my wanderings I had the good fortune to save the ninth  life
of a tailor - tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably know.
The fellow was exceedingly grateful, for had he lost that  ninth  life  it
would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to furnish me with
the stylish costume I now wear. It fits very nicely, does it not?" and the
Woggle-Bug stood up and turned  himself  around  slowly,  that  all  might
examine his person.
     "He must have been a  good  tailor,"  said  the  Scarecrow,  somewhat
enviously.
     "He was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate," observed Nick Chopper.
     "But  where  were  you  going,  when  you  met  us?"  Tip  asked  the
Woggle-Bug.
     "Nowhere in particular," was the reply, "although it is my  intention
soon to visit the Emerald City and arrange to give a course of lectures to
select audiences on the 'Advantages of Magnification.'"
     "We are bound for the Emerald City now," said the Tin  Woodman;  "so,
if it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company."
     The Woggle-Bug bowed with profound grace.
     "It will give me great  pleasure,"  said  he  "to  accept  your  kind
invitation; for nowhere in the Land of Oz could I hope  to  meet  with  so
congenial a company."
     "That is true,"  acknowledged  the  Pumpkinhead.  "We  are  quite  as
congenial as flies and honey."
     "But - pardon me if I seem inquisitive - are you  not  all  rather  -
ahem! rather unusual?" asked the Woggle-Bug, looking from one  to  another
with unconcealed interest.
     "Not more so than yourself," answered the Scarecrow.  "Everything  in
life is unusual until you get accustomed to it."
     "What rare philosophy!" exclaimed the Woggle-Bug, admiringly.
     "Yes; my brains are working well today," admitted the  Scarecrow,  an
accent of pride in his voice.
     "Then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend  our
steps toward the Emerald City," suggested the magnified one.
     "We can't," said Tip. "The Saw-Horse has broken a leg,  so  he  can't
bend his steps. And there is no wood around to make him a new  limb  from.
And we can't leave the horse behind because the Pumpkinhead is so stiff in
his Joints that he has to ride."
     "How very unfortunate!" cried the  Woggle-Bug.  Then  he  looked  the
party over carefully and said:
     "If the Pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a
leg for the horse that carries him? I judge that both are made of wood."
     "Now, that is what I  call  real  cleverness,"  said  the  Scarecrow,
approvingly. "I wonder my brains did not think of that long  ago!  Get  to
work, my dear Nick, and fit the Pumpkinhead's leg to the Saw-Horse."
     Jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he  submitted  to
having his left leg amputated by the Tin Woodman and whittled down to  fit
the left leg of the Saw-Horse. Nor was the  Saw-Horse  especially  pleased
with the operation, either;  for  he  growled  a  good  deal  about  being
"butchered," as he called it, and afterward declared that the new leg  was
a disgrace to a respectable Saw-Horse.
     "I beg you to be more careful in your speech," said the  Pumpkinhead,
sharply. "Remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing."
     "I cannot forget it," retorted the Saw-Horse, "for  it  is  quite  as
flimsy as the rest of your person."
     "Flimsy! me flimsy!" cried Jack, in a rage. "How  dare  you  call  me
flimsy?"
     "Because you are built as absurdly as a  jumping-jack,"  sneered  the
horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. "Even your head  won't
stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking backwards or
forwards!"
     "Friends, I entreat you not to quarrel!"  pleaded  the  Tin  Woodman,
anxiously." As a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so let
us bear with each others' faults."
     "An excellent suggestion," said  the  Woggle-Bug,  approvingly.  "You
must have an excellent heart, my metallic friend."
     "I have," returned Nick, well pleased. "My heart is  quite  the  best
part of me. But now let us start upon our Journey.
     They perched the one-legged Pumpkinhead upon the Saw-Horse, and  tied
him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off.
     And then, following the lead of the Scarecrow, they all  advanced  in
the direction of the Emerald City.



16. Old Mombi indulges in Witchcraft

     They soon discovered that the Saw-Horse limped, for his new leg was a
trifle too long. So they were  obliged  to  halt  while  the  Tin  Woodman
chopped it down with his axe, after which the  wooden  steed  paced  along
more comfortably. But the Saw-Horse was not entirely satisfied, even yet.
     "It was a shame that I broke my other leg!" it growled.
     "On the contrary," airily remarked the Woggle-Bug,  who  was  walking
alongside, "you should consider the accident most fortunate. For  a  horse
is never of much use until he has been broken."
     "I beg your pardon," said Tip, rather provoked, for he  felt  a  warm
interest in both the Saw-Horse and his man Jack; "but  permit  me  to  say
that your joke is a poor one, and as old as it is poor."
     "Still, it is a Joke," declared the Woggle-Bug; firmly, "and  a  Joke
derived from a play upon words is considered among educated people  to  be
eminently proper."
     "What does that mean?" enquired the Pumpkinhead, stupidly.
     "It means, my dear  friend,"  explained  the  Woggle-Bug,  "that  our
language contains  many  words  having  a  double  meaning;  and  that  to
pronounce a joke that allows both meanings of a certain word,  proves  the
joker a person of culture and refinement, who has,  moreover,  a  thorough
command of the language."
     "I don't believe that," said Tip, plainly; "anybody can make a pun."
     "Not so," rejoined the Woggle-Bug, stiffly. "It requires education of
a high order. Are you educated, young sir?"
     "Not especially," admitted Tip.
     "Then you cannot judge the matter. I myself am  Thoroughly  Educated,
and I say that puns display genius. For instance, were I to ride upon this
SawHorse, he would not only be an animal he would become an equipage.  For
he would then be a horse-and-buggy."
     At this the Scarecrow gave a gasp and the Tin Woodman  stopped  short
and looked reproachfully at the Woggle-Bug. At the same time the Saw-Horse
loudly snorted his derision; and even the Pumpkinhead put up his  hand  to
hide the smile which, because it was carved upon his face,  he  could  not
change to a frown.
     But the Woggle-Bug strutted along as if he had  made  some  brilliant
remark, and the Scarecrow was obliged to say:
     "I  have  heard,  my  dear  friend,  that   a   person   can   become
over-educated; and although I have a high respect for  brains,  no  matter
how they may be arranged or classified, I begin to suspect that yours  are
slightly tangled. In any event, I must beg you to restrain  your  superior
education while in our society."
     "We are not very particular," added the  Tin  Woodman;  "and  we  are
exceedingly kind hearted. But if your superior culture gets leaky again  -
" He did not complete the sentence, but he twirled  his  gleaming  axe  so
carelessly that the Woggle-Bug looked frightened, and  shrank  away  to  a
safe distance.
     The others marched on in silence, and the Highly Magnified one, after
a period of deep thought, said in an humble voice:
     "I will endeavor to restrain myself."
     "That is all we can expect," returned the Scarecrow  pleasantly;  and
good nature being thus happily restored to the party, they proceeded  upon
their way.
     When they again stopped to allow Tip to rest - the boy being the only
one that seemed to tire - the Tin Woodman noticed many small, round  holes
in the grassy meadow.
     "This must be a village of the Field Mice," he said to the Scarecrow.
" I wonder  if  my  old  friend,  the  Queen  of  the  Mice,  is  in  this
neighborhood."
     "If she is, she  may  be  of  great  service  to  us,"  answered  the
Scarecrow, who was impressed by a sudden thought. "See  if  you  can  call
her, my dear Nick."
     So the Tin Woodman blew a shrill note upon a silver whistle that hung
around his neck, and presently a tiny grey mouse  popped  from  a  near-by
hole and advanced fearlessly toward them. For the  Tin  Woodman  had  once
saved her life, and the Queen of the Field Mice knew he was to be trusted.
"
     "Good day, your Majesty, said Nick, politely addressing the mouse; "I
trust you are enjoying good health?"
     "Thank you, I am quite well," answered the Queen,  demurely,  as  she
sat up and displayed the tiny golden  crown  upon  her  head.  "Can  I  do
anything to assist my old friends?"
     "You can, indeed," replied the Scarecrow, eagerly. "Let me, I intreat
you, take a dozen of your subjects with me to the Emerald City."
     "Will they be injured in any way?" asked the Queen, doubtfully.
     "I think not," replied the Scarecrow. "I will carry  them  hidden  in
the straw which stuffs my body,  and  when  I  give  them  the  signal  by
unbuttoning my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper  home  again
as fast as they can. By doing this  they  will  assist  me  to  regain  my
throne, which the Army of Revolt has taken from me."
     "In that case," said the Queen, "I  will  not  refuse  your  request.
Whenever you are  ready,  I  will  call  twelve  of  my  most  intelligent
subjects."
     "I am ready now" returned the Scarecrow. Then he lay  flat  upon  the
ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with  which
he was stuffed.
     The Queen uttered a little piping call, and in  an  instant  a  dozen
pretty field mice had emerged from their  holes  and  stood  before  their
ruler, awaiting her orders.
     What the Queen said to them none of our travelers  could  understand,
for it was in the mouse  language;  but  the  field  mice  obeyed  without
hesitation, running one after  the  other  to  the  Scarecrow  and  hiding
themselves in the straw of his breast.
     When all of the  twelve  mice  had  thus  concealed  themselves,  the
Scarecrow buttoned his Jacket securely and  then  arose  and  thanked  the
Queen for her kindness.
     "One thing more you might do to serve us," suggested the Tin Woodman;
"and that is to run ahead and show us the way to  the  Emerald  City.  For
some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it."
     "I will do that gladly," returned the Queen. "Are you ready?"
     The Tin Woodman looked at Tip.
     "I'm rested," said the boy. "Let us start."
     Then they resumed their journey, the little grey Queen of  the  Field
Mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near,
when away she would dart again.
     Without this unerring guide the  Scarecrow  and  his  comrades  might
never have gained the Emerald City; for many were the obstacles thrown  in
their way by the arts of old Mombi. Yet not one of  the  obstacles  really
existed - all were cleverly contrived deceptions. For when  they  came  to
the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way  the  little
Queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in  safety;  and
our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water.
     Again, a high wall of granite towered  high  above  their  heads  and
opposed their advance. But the grey Field Mouse  walked  straight  through
it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed
it.
     Afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow Tip  to  rest,
they saw forty roads branching off from  their  feet  in  forty  different
directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty
wheel,  first  in  one  direction  and  then  in  the  other,   completely
bewildering their vision.
     But the Queen called for them to follow  her  and  darted  off  in  a
straight line; and when they had gone a few paces  the  whirling  pathways
vanished and were seen no more.
     Mombi's last trick was the most fearful of all. She sent a  sheet  of
crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first
time the Scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly.
     "If that fire reaches me I  will  be  gone  in  no  time!"  said  he,
trembling until his straw rattled. "It's the most dangerous thing  I  ever
encountered."
     "I'm off, too!"  cried  the  Saw-Horse,  turning  and  prancing  with
agitation; "for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings."
     "Is fire dangerous to pumpkins?" asked Jack, fearfully.
     "You'll be baked  like  a  tart  -  and  so  will  I!"  answered  the
Woggle-Bug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster.
     But the Tin Woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede  by
a few sensible words.
     "Look at the Field Mouse!" he shouted. "The fire does not burn her in
the least. In fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception."
     Indeed, to watch the little Queen march calmly through the  advancing
flames restored courage to every member of the party,  and  they  followed
her without being even scorched.
     "This is surely a most extraordinary adventure," said the Woggle-Bug,
who was greatly amazed; "for it upsets all the Natural Laws that  I  heard
Professor Nowitall teach in the school-house."
     "Of course it does,"  said  the  Scarecrow,  wisely.  "All  magic  is
unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared  and  avoided.  But  I  see
before us the gates of the Emerald City, so I imagine we have now overcome
all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us."
     Indeed, the walls of the City were plainly visible, and the Queen  of
the Field Mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to  bid  them
goodbye.
     "We are very grateful to your Majesty for your kind assistance," said
the Tin Woodman, bowing before the pretty creature.
     "I am always pleased to be of service to my  friends,"  answered  the
Queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home.



17. The Prisoners of the Queen

     Approaching the gateway of the Emerald City the  travelers  found  it
guarded by two girls of the Army of Revolt, who opposed their entrance  by
drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to  prod  the
first that came near.
     But the Tin Woodman was not afraid."
     At the worst they can but  scratch  my  beautiful  nickel-plate,"  he
said. "But there will be no 'worst,' for I think I can manage to  frighten
these absurd soldiers very easily. Follow me closely, all of you!"
     Then, swinging his axe in a great circle to  right  and  left  before
him, he advanced upon the  gate,  and  the  others  followed  him  without
hesitation.
     The girls, who had expected no resistance whatever, were terrified by
the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so  that
our travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the green marble
pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace.
     "At this rate we will soon have your Majesty upon the throne  again,"
said the Tin Woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards.
     "Thank  you,  friend  Nick,"  returned  the  Scarecrow,   gratefully.
"Nothing can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe."
     As they passed the rows of houses they saw  through  the  open  doors
that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat
around in groups, gossiping and laughing.
     "What has happened?" the Scarecrow asked a  sad-looking  man  with  a
bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along  the
sidewalk.
     "Why, we've had a revolution, your Majesty as you ought to know  very
well," replied the man; "and since you  went  away  the  women  have  been
running things to suit themselves. I'm glad you have decided to come  back
and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing
out the strength of every man in the Emerald City."
     "Hm!" said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. "If it is such hard  work  as
you say, how did the women manage it so easily?"
     "I really do not know" replied the man, with a  deep  sigh.  "Perhaps
the women are made of castiron."
     No movement was made, as they passed  along  the  street,  to  oppose
their progress. Several of the women stopped their gossip long  enough  to
cast curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn  away
with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. And when they  met  with
several girls belonging to the Army of Revolt, those soldiers, instead  of
being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of  the  way  and
allowed them to advance without protest.
     This action rendered the Scarecrow uneasy."
     I'm afraid we are walking into a trap," said he.
     "Nonsense!" returned Nick Chopper, confidently; "the silly  creatures
are conquered already!"
     But the Scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed  doubt,  and
Tip said:
     "It's too easy, altogether. Look out for trouble ahead."
     "I will," returned his Majesty.  Unopposed  they  reached  the  royal
palace and marched up the  marble  steps,  which  had  once  been  thickly
crusted with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels
had been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the Army of Revolt. And so
far not a rebel barred their way.
     Through the arched hallways and  into  the  magnificent  throne  room
marched the Tin Woodman and his followers, and here, when the green silken
curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight.
     Seated within the glittering throne  was  General  Jinjur,  with  the
Scarecrow's second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in  her
right hand. A box of caramels, from which she was eating,  rested  in  her
lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal surroundings.
     The Scarecrow stepped forward  and  confronted  her,  while  the  Tin
Woodman leaned upon his axe and the others formed a  half-circle  back  of
his Majesty's person.
     "How dare you sit in my  throne?"  demanded  the  Scarecrow,  sternly
eyeing the intruder. "Don't you know you are guilty of treason,  and  that
there is a law against treason?"
     "The throne belongs to whoever is able to take it," answered  Jinjur,
as she slowly ate another caramel. "I have taken it, as you see;  so  just
now I am the Queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of treason, and  must
be punished by the law you have just mentioned."
     This view of the case puzzled the Scarecrow.
     "How is it, friend Nick?" he asked, turning to the Tin Woodman.
     "Why, when it comes to Law, I have nothing  to,  say"  answered  that
personage. "for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is  foolish
to make the attempt."
     "Then what shall we do?" asked the Scarecrow, in dismay.
     "Why don't you  marry  the  Queen?  And  then  you  can  both  rule,"
suggested the Woggle-Bug.
     Jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. "Why don't you send her back to
her mother, where she belongs?" asked Jack Pumpkinhead.
     Jinjur frowned.
     "Why don't you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and
promises to be good?" enquired Tip. Jinjur's lip curled scornfully.
     "Or give her a good shaking!" added the Saw-Horse.
     "No," said the Tin  Woodman,  "we  must  treat  the  poor  girl  with
gentleness. Let us give her all the Jewels she can  carry,  and  send  her
away happy and contented."
     At this Queen Jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute  clapped  her
pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal.
     "You are very absurd creatures," said she; "but I am  tired  of  your
nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer."
     While the monarch and his  friends  listened  in  amazement  to  this
impudent speech, a startling thing happened. The  Tin  Woodman's  axe  was
snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and  he  found  himself
disarmed and helpless. At the same instant a shout of laughter rang in the
ears of the devoted band, and turning to see whence this came  they  found
themselves surrounded by the Army of Revolt, the girls bearing  in  either
hand their glistening knitting-needles. The entire throne room  seemed  to
be filled with the rebels, and the Scarecrow  and  his  comrades  realized
that they were prisoners.
     "You see how foolish it is to oppose a  woman's  wit,"  said  Jinjur,
gaily; "and this event only proves that I am more fit to rule the  Emerald
City than a Scarecrow. I bear you no ill will, I assure you; but lest  you
should prove troublesome to me in the future I shall order you all  to  be
destroyed. That is, all except the boy, who belongs to old Mombi and  must
be restored to her keeping. The rest of you are not human,  and  therefore
it will not be wicked to demolish you. The Saw-Horse and the Pumpkinhead's
body I will have chopped up for kindlingwood; and  the  pumpkin  shall  be
made into tarts. The Scarecrow will do nicely to start a bonfire, and  the
tin man can be cut into small pieces and fed to the  goats.  As  for  this
immense Woggle-Bug - "
     "Highly Magnified, if you please!" interrupted the insect.
     "I think I will ask the cook  to  make  green-turtle  soup  of  you,"
continued the Queen, reflectively.
     The Woggle-Bug shuddered.
     "Or, if that won't do, we might use  you  for  a  Hungarian  goulash,
stewed and highly spiced," she added, cruelly.
     This programme of extermination was so terrible  that  the  prisoners
looked upon one another in a panic of fear. The Scarecrow  alone  did  not
give way to despair. He stood quietly before the Queen and  his  brow  was
wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape.
     While thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast  move  gently.
At once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising  his  hand
he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket.
     This action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd of  girls  clustering
about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny  grey
mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered  away  between  the
feet of the Army of Revolt. Another mouse quickly followed;  then  another
and another, in rapid succession. And suddenly such  a  scream  of  terror
went up from the Army that it might easily have filled the stoutest  heart
with consternation. The flight that ensued turned to a stampede,  and  the
stampede to a panic.
     For while  the  startled  mice  rushed  wildly  about  the  room  the
Scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of  feet
as the girls disappeared from  the  palace  -  pushing  and  crowding  one
another in their mad efforts to escape.
     The Queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne
and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. Then a mouse ran  up  the
cushions, and with a terrified leap poor Jinjur shot clear over  the  head
of the Scarecrow and escaped through an archway -  never  pausing  in  her
wild career until she had reached the city gates.
     So, in less time than I can explain, the throne room was deserted  by
all save the Scarecrow and his friends, and the Woggle-Bug heaved  a  deep
sigh of relief as he exclaimed:
     "Thank goodness, we are saved!"
     "For a time, yes;" answered the Tin Woodman. "But the enemy will soon
return, I fear."
     "Let us bar all the entrances to the  palace!"  said  the  Scarecrow.
"Then we shall have time to think what is best to be done."
     So all except Jack Pumpkinhead,  who  was  still  tied  fast  to  the
Saw-Horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed the
heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely.  Then,  knowing  that  the
Army of Revolt could not batter down the barriers  in  several  days,  the
adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of war.



18. The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think

     "It seems to me," began the Scarecrow, when all were again  assembled
in the throne room, "that the girl Jinjur is quite right in claiming to be
Queen. And if she is right, then I am wrong, and we have no business to be
occupying her palace."
     "But you  were  the  King  until  she  came,"  said  the  Woggle-Bug,
strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; "so it appears to  me
that she is the interloper instead of you."
     "Especially as we have just conquered her and  put  her  to  flight,"
added the Pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward  the
Scarecrow.
     "Have we really conquered her?" asked the Scarecrow,  quietly.  "Look
out of the window, and tell me what you see."
     Tip ran to the window and looked out.
     "The palace is surrounded by a  double  row  of  girl  soldiers,"  he
announced.
     "I thought so," returned  the  Scarecrow.  "We  are  as  truly  their
prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace."
     "My friend is right," said Nick Chopper, who had been  polishing  his
breast with a bit of chamois-leather. "Jinjur is still the Queen,  and  we
are her prisoners."
     "But I hope she cannot get at us," exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, with  a
shiver of fear. "She threatened to make tarts of me, you know."
     "Don't worry," said the Tin Woodman. "It cannot  matter  greatly.  If
you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. A good tart  is  far
more admirable than a decayed intellect."
     "Very true," agreed the Scarecrow.
     "Oh, dear!" moaned Jack; "what an unhappy  lot  is  mine!  Why,  dear
father, did you not make me out of tin - or even out of straw - so that  I
would keep indefinitely."
     "Shucks!" returned Tip, indignantly. "You ought to  be  glad  that  I
made you at all." Then he added, reflectively, "everything has to come  to
an end, some time."
     "But I beg to remind  you,"  broke  in  the  Woggle-Bug,  who  had  a
distressed look in his bulging, round  eyes,  "that  this  terrible  Queen
Jinjur suggested making a goulash of me - Me! the  only  Highly  Magnified
and Thoroughly Educated Woggle-Bug in the wide, wide world!"
     "I  think  it  was  a  brilliant  idea,"  remarked   the   Scarecrow,
approvingly.
     "Don't you imagine he would  make  a  better  soup?"  asked  the  Tin
Woodman, turning toward his friend.
     "Well, perhaps," acknowledged the Scarecrow.
     The Woggle-Bug groaned.
     "I can see, in my mind's eye," said he, mournfully, "the goats eating
small pieces of my dear comrade, the Tin Woodman, while my soup  is  being
cooked on a bonfire built of the Saw-Horse and  Jack  Pumpkinhead's  body,
and Queen Jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend
the Scarecrow!"
     This morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party,  making  them
restless and anxious.
     "It can't happen for some time," said  the  Tin  Woodman,  trying  to
speak cheerfully; "for we shall be able to keep Jinjur out of  the  palace
until she manages to break down the doors."
     "And in the meantime I am liable to starve to death, and  so  is  the
WoggleBug," announced Tip.
     "As for me," said the Woggle-Bug, "I think that I could live for some
time on Jack Pumpkinhead. Not that I  prefer  pumpkins  for  food;  but  I
believe they are somewhat nutritious, and Jack's head is large and plump."
     "How heartless!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman, greatly shocked. "Are  we
cannibals, let me ask? Or are we faithful friends?"
     "I see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this palace," said
the Scarecrow, with decision. "So let us end this mournful talk and try to
discover a means to escape."
     At this suggestion they  all  gathered  eagerly  around  the  throne,
wherein was seated the Scarecrow, and as Tip sat down upon a  stool  there
fell from his pocket a pepper-box, which rolled upon the floor.
     "What is this?" asked Nick Chopper, picking up the box.
     "Be careful!" cried the boy. "That's my Powder of Life.  Don't  spill
it, for it is nearly gone."
     "And what is the Powder of Life?"  enquired  the  Scarecrow,  as  Tip
replaced the box carefully in his pocket.
     "It's some magical stuff old Mombi  got  from  a  crooked  sorcerer,"
explained the boy. "She brought Jack to life with it, and afterward I used
it to bring the Saw-Horse to life. I guess it will make anything live that
is sprinkled with it; but there's only about one dose left."
     "Then it is very precious," said the Tin Woodman.
     "Indeed it is," agreed the Scarecrow. "It may prove our best means of
escape from our difficulties. I believe I will think for a few minutes; so
I will thank you, friend Tip, to get out your knife  and  rip  this  heavy
crown from my forehead."
     Tip soon cut  the  stitches  that  had  fastened  the  crown  to  the
Scarecrow's head, and the former monarch of the Emerald  City  removed  it
with a sigh of relief and hung it on a peg beside the throne.
     "That is my last memento of royalty" said he; "and I'm  glad  to  get
rid of it. The former King of this City, who was named Pastoria, lost  the
crown to the Wonderful Wizard, who passed it on to me. Now the girl Jinjur
claims it, and I sincerely hope it will not give her a headache."
     "A kindly thought, which I greatly admire,"  said  the  Tin  Woodman,
nodding approvingly.
     "And now I will indulge in a quiet think," continued  the  Scarecrow,
lying back in the throne.
     The others remained as silent and still as possible,  so  as  not  to
disturb him; for all had great confidence in the extraordinary  brains  of
the Scarecrow.
     And, after what seemed  a  very  long  time  indeed  to  the  anxious
watchers, the thinker sat up,  looked  upon  his  friends  with  his  most
whimsical expression, and said:
     "My brains work beautifully today. I'm  quite  proud  of  them.  Now,
listen! If we attempt to escape through the doors of the palace  we  shall
surely be captured. And, as we can't escape through the ground,  there  is
only one other thing to be done. We must escape through the air!"
     He paused to note the effect of these  words;  but  all  his  hearers
seemed puzzled and unconvinced.
     "The Wonderful Wizard escaped in a balloon," he continued. "We  don't
know how to make a balloon, of course; but any sort of thing that can  fly
through the air can carry us easily. So I suggest that my friend  the  Tin
Woodman, who is a skillful mechanic, shall build some sort of  a  machine,
with good strong wings, to carry us; and our friend Tip can then bring the
Thing to life with his magical powder."
     "Bravo!" cried Nick Chopper.
     "What splendid brains!" murmured Jack.
     "Really quite clever!" said the Educated Woggle-Bug.
     "I believe it can be done,"  declared  Tip;  "that  is,  if  the  Tin
Woodman is equal to making the Thing."
     "I'll do my best," said Nick, cheerily; "and, as a matter of fact,  I
do not often fail in what I attempt. But the Thing will have to  be  built
on the roof of the palace, so it can rise comfortably into the air."
     "To be sure," said the Scarecrow.
     "Then let us search through the palace," continued the  Tin  Woodman,
"and carry all the material we can find to the roof, where I will begin my
work."
     "First, however," said the Pumpkinhead, "I beg you  will  release  me
from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. For in  my  present
condition I am of no use to myself or to anyone else."
     So the Tin Woodman knocked a mahogany center-table to pieces with his
axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved,  on  to  the
body of Jack Pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition.
     "It seems strange," said he, as he  watched  the  Tin  Woodman  work,
"that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me."
     "That proves you are unusual," returned  the  Scarecrow.  "and  I  am
convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this  world  are
the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree,  and
live and die unnoticed."
     "Spoken like a philosopher!" cried the Woggle-Bug, as he assisted the
Tin Woodman to set Jack upon his feet.
     "How do you feel now?" asked  Tip,  watching  the  Pumpkinhead  stump
around to try his new leg."
     As good as new" answered Jack, Joyfully, "and quite ready  to  assist
you all to escape."
     "Then let us get to work," said the  Scarecrow,  in  a  business-like
tone.
     So, glad to be doing anything that might lead to  the  end  of  their
captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace  in  search  of
fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine.



19. The Astonishing Flight of the Gump

     When the adventurers reassembled upon the roof it was  found  that  a
remarkably queer assortment of articles had been selected by  the  various
members of the party. No one seemed to have a very clear idea of what  was
required, but all had brought something.
     The Woggle-Bug had taken from its position over the  mantle-piece  in
the  great  hallway  the  head  of  a  Gump,  which   was   adorned   with
wide-spreading antlers; and this, with great care and greater  difficulty,
the insect had carried up the stairs to the roof. This Gump  resembled  an
Elk's head, only the nose turned upward in a saucy manner and  there  were
whiskers upon its chin, like those of a  billy-goat.  Why  the  Woggle-Bug
selected this article he could not have  explained,  except  that  it  had
aroused his curiosity.
     Tip, with the aid of the Saw-Horse, had brought a large,  upholstered
sofa to the roof. It was an oldfashioned piece  of  furniture,  with  high
back and ends, and it was so heavy  that  even  by  resting  the  greatest
weight upon the back of the Saw-Horse, the boy found himself out of breath
when at last the clumsy sofa was dumped upon the roof.
     The Pumpkinhead had brought a broom, which was  the  first  thing  he
saw. The Scarecrow arrived with a coil of clothes-lines and ropes which he
had taken from the courtyard, and in his trip up the stairs he had  become
so entangled in the loose ends of the ropes that both he  and  his  burden
tumbled in a heap upon the roof and might have rolled off if Tip  had  not
rescued him.
     The Tin Woodman appeared last. He also had  been  to  the  courtyard,
where he had cut four great, spreading leaves from a huge  palm-tree  that
was the pride of all the inhabitants of the Emerald City.
     "My dear Nick!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, seeing what his  friend  had
done; "you have been guilty of the greatest crime any person can commit in
the Emerald City. If I remember rightly, the penalty for  chopping  leaves
from the royal palm-tree  is  to  be  killed  seven  times  and  afterward
imprisoned for life."
     "It cannot be helped now" answered the Tin Woodman, throwing down the
big leaves upon the roof. "But it  may  be  one  more  reason  why  it  is
necessary for us to escape. And now let us see what you have found for  me
to work with."
     Many were the doubtful looks cast  upon  the  heap  of  miscellaneous
material that now cluttered the roof, and finally the Scarecrow shook  his
head and remarked:
     "Well, if friend Nick can manufacture, from this mess of  rubbish,  a
Thing that will fly through the air and carry us to safety,  then  I  will
acknowledge him to be a better mechanic than I suspected."
     But the Tin Woodman seemed at first by no means sure of  his  powers,
and only after polishing his forehead vigorously with the  chamois-leather
did he resolve to undertake the task.
     "The first thing required for the machine," said he, "is a  body  big
enough to carry the entire party. This sofa is the biggest thing we  have,
and might be used for a body. But, should the machine ever  tip  sideways,
we would all slide off and fall to the ground."
     "Why not use two sofas?" asked Tip. "There's another  one  just  like
this down stairs."
     "That is a very sensible suggestion," exclaimed the Tin Woodman. "You
must fetch the other sofa at once."
     So Tip and the Saw-Horse managed, with much labor, to get the  second
sofa to the roof; and when the two were placed together, edge to edge, the
backs and ends formed a protecting rampart all around the seats.
     "Excellent!" cried the Scarecrow. "We can ride within this snug  nest
quite at our ease."
     The  two  sofas  were  now  bound  firmly  together  with  ropes  and
clothes-lines, and then Nick Chopper fastened the Gump's head to one end.
     "That will show which is the  front  end  of  the  Thing,"  said  he,
greatly pleased with the idea." And, really, if you examine it critically,
the Gump looks very well as a figure-head. These  great  palm-leaves,  for
which I have endangered my life seven times, must serve us as wings."
     "Are they strong enough?" asked the boy.
     "They are as strong as anything we can get,"  answered  the  Woodman;
"and although they are not in proportion to the Thing's body, we  are  not
in a position to be very particular."
     So he fastened the palm-leaves to the sofas, two on each side.
     Said the Woggle-Bug, with considerable admiration:
     "The Thing is now complete, and only needs to be brought to life."
     "Stop a moment!" exclaimed Jack." Are you not going to use my broom?"
     "What for?" asked the Scarecrow.
     "Why, it can be fastened to the back end for a  tail,"  answered  the
Pumpkinhead. "Surely you would not call the Thing complete without a tail.
"
     "Hm!" said the Tin Woodman, "I do not see the use of a tail.  We  are
not trying to copy a beast, or a fish, or a bird. All we ask of the  Thing
is to carry us through the air.
     "Perhaps, after the Thing is brought to life, it can use  a  tail  to
steer with," suggested the Scarecrow. "For if it flies through the air  it
will not be unlike a bird, and I've noticed that  all  birds  have  tails,
which they use for a rudder while flying."
     "Very well," answered Nick, "the broom shall be used for a tail," and
he fastened it firmly to the back end of the sofa body.
     Tip took the pepper-box from his pocket.
     "The Thing looks very big," said he, anxiously; "and I  am  not  sure
there is enough powder left to bring all of it to life. But I'll  make  it
go as far as possible."
     "Put most on the wings," said Nick Chopper; "for they must be made as
strong as possible."
     "And don't forget the head!" exclaimed the Woggle-Bug.
     "Or the tail!" added Jack Pumpkinhead.
     "Do be quiet," said Tip, nervously; "you must give  me  a  chance  to
work the magic charm in the proper manner."
     Very carefully he  began  sprinkling  the  Thing  with  the  precious
powder. Each of the four wings was first lightly  covered  with  a  layer.
then the sofas were sprinkled, and the broom given a slight coating.
     "The head! The head! Don't, I beg of you, forget the head!" cried the
Woggle-Bug, excitedly.
     "There's only a little of the powder left,"  announced  Tip,  looking
within the box." And it seems to me it is more important to bring the legs
of the sofas to life than the head."
     "Not so," decided the Scarecrow. "Every thing must  have  a  head  to
direct it; and since this creature is to fly, and not walk, it  is  really
unimportant whether its legs are alive or not."
     So Tip abided by this decision and sprinkled the Gump's head with the
remainder of the powder.
     "Now" said he, "keep silence while I work the, charm!"
     Having heard old Mombi pronounce the magic  words,  and  having  also
succeeded in bringing the Saw-Horse to  life,  Tip  did  not  hesitate  an
instant in speaking the three cabalistic words, each  accompanied  by  the
peculiar gesture of the hands.
     It was a grave and impressive ceremony.
     As he finished the incantation the  Thing  shuddered  throughout  its
huge bulk, the Gump gave the screeching cry  that  is  familiar  to  those
animals, and then the four wings began flopping furiously.
     Tip managed to grasp a chimney, else he would have been blown off the
roof by the terrible breeze raised by  the  wings.  The  Scarecrow,  being
light in weight, was caught up bodily and borne through the air until  Tip
luckily seized him by one leg and held him fast. The Woggle-Bug  lay  flat
upon the roof and so escaped harm, and the Tin Woodman,  whose  weight  of
tin anchored him firmly, threw  both  arms  around  Jack  Pumpkinhead  and
managed to save him. The Saw-Horse toppled over upon his back and lay with
his legs waving helplessly above him.
     And now, while all were struggling to recover themselves,  the  Thing
rose slowly from the roof and mounted into the air.
     "Here! Come back!" cried Tip, in a frightened voice, as he  clung  to
the chimney with one hand and the Scarecrow with the other. "Come back  at
once, I command you!"
     It was now that the wisdom of the Scarecrow, in bringing the head  of
the Thing to life instead of the legs, was proved beyond a doubt. For  the
Gump, already high in the air,  turned  its  head  at  Tip's  command  and
gradually circled around until it could view the roof of the palace.
     "Come back!" shouted the boy, again.
     And the Gump obeyed, slowly and gracefully waving its four  wings  in
the air until the Thing had settled once more upon  the  roof  and  become
still.



20. In the Jackdaw's Nest

     "This," said the Gump, in a squeaky voice not at all proportioned  to
the size of its great body, "is the most novel experience I ever heard of.
The last thing I remember distinctly is walking  through  the  forest  and
hearing a loud noise. Something probably killed me then, and it  certainly
ought to have been the end of me. Yet here I am, alive  again,  with  four
monstrous wings and  a  body  which  I  venture  to  say  would  make  any
respectable animal or fowl weep with shame to own. What does it all  mean?
Am I a Gump, or am I a juggernaut?" The creature, as it spoke, wiggled its
chin whiskers in a very comical manner.
     "You're just a Thing," answered Tip, "with a Gump's head on  it.  And
we have made you and brought you to life so that you may carry us  through
the air wherever we wish to go."
     "Very good!" said the Thing. "As I am not a Gump,  I  cannot  have  a
Gump's pride or independent spirit. So I may as well become  your  servant
as anything else. My only satisfaction is that I do not  seem  to  have  a
very strong constitution, and am not likely to live long  in  a  state  of
slavery."
     "Don't say that,  I  beg  of  you!"  cried  the  Tin  Woodman,  whose
excellent heart was strongly affected by this sad  speech."  Are  you  not
feeling well today?"
     "Oh, as for that,"  returned  the  Gump,  "it  is  my  first  day  of
existence; so I cannot Judge whether I am feeling well  or  ill."  And  it
waved its broom tail to and fro in a pensive manner.
     "Come, come!" said  the  Scarecrow,  kindly.  "do  try,  to  be  more
cheerful and take life as you find it. We shall be kind masters, and  will
strive to render your existence as pleasant as possible. Are  you  willing
to carry us through the air wherever we wish to go?"
     "Certainly," answered the Gump. "I greatly  prefer  to  navigate  the
air. For should I travel on the earth and meet with one of my own species,
my embarrassment would be something awful!"
     "I can appreciate that," said the Tin Woodman, sympathetically.
     "And yet," continued the Thing, "when I carefully look you  over,  my
masters, none of you seems to be constructed much more artistically than I
am."
     "Appearances are deceitful," said the Woggle-Bug,  earnestly.  "I  am
both Highly Magnified and Thoroughly Educated."
     "Indeed!" murmured the Gump, indifferently.
     "And my brains are considered remarkably rare specimens,"  added  the
Scarecrow, proudly.
     "How strange!" remarked the Gump.
     "Although I am of tin," said the Woodman, "I own a  heart  altogether
the warmest and most admirable in the whole world."
     "I'm delighted to hear it," replied the Gump, with a slight cough.
     "My smile," said Jack Pumpkinhead, "is worthy your best attention. It
is always the same."
     "Semper idem," explained the  Woggle-Bug,  pompously;  and  the  Gump
turned to stare at him.
     "And I," declared the Saw-Horse, filling in  an  awkward  pause,  "am
only remarkable because I can't help it."
     "I am proud, indeed, to meet with such exceptional masters," said the
Gump, in  a  careless  tone.  "If  I  could  but  secure  so  complete  an
introduction to myself, I would be more than satisfied."
     "That will come in time," remarked the Scarecrow. "To 'Know  Thyself'
is considered quite an accomplishment, which it has taken us, who are your
elders, months to perfect. But now," he added, turning to the others, "let
us get aboard and start upon our journey."
     "Where shall we go?" asked Tip, as he clambered  to  a  seat  on  the
sofas and assisted the Pumpkinhead to follow him.
     "In the South Country rules a very delightful Queen called Glinda the
Good, who I am sure will gladly receive us," said the  Scarecrow,  getting
into the Thing clumsily. "Let us go to her and ask her advice."
     "That is cleverly thought of,"  declared  Nick  Chopper,  giving  the
Woggle-Bug a boost and then toppling the Saw-Horse into the  rear  end  of
the cushioned seats." I know Glinda the Good, and believe she will prove a
friend indeed."
     "Are we all ready?" asked the boy.
     "Yes,"  announced  the  Tin  Woodman,  seating  himself  beside   the
Scarecrow.
     "Then," said Tip, addressing the Gump, "be kind enough to fly with us
to the Southward; and do not go higher  than  to  escape  the  houses  and
trees, for it makes me dizzy to be up so far."
     "All right," answered the Gump, briefly.
     It flopped its four huge wings and rose  slowly  into  the  air;  and
then, while our little band of adventurers clung to the backs and sides of
the sofas for support, the Gump turned toward the South and soared swiftly
and majestically away.
     "The scenic effect, from this altitude, is marvelous," commented  the
educated Woggle-Bug, as they rode along.
     "Never mind the scenery," said the Scarecrow. "Hold on tight, or  you
may get a tumble. The Thing seems to rock badly.'
     "It will be dark soon," said Tip, observing that the sun was  low  on
the horizon. "Perhaps we should have waited until morning. I wonder if the
Gump can fly in the night."
     "I've been wondering that myself," returned the  Gump  quietly.  "You
see, this is a new experience to me. I used to have legs that  carried  me
swiftly over the ground. But now my legs feel as if they were asleep."
     "They are," said Tip. "We didn't bring 'em to life."
     "You're expected to fly," explained the Scarecrow. "not to walk."
     "We can walk ourselves," said the Woggle-Bug."
     I begin to understand what is required of me," remarked the Gump; "so
I will do my best to please you," and he flew on for a time in silence.
     Presently Jack Pumpkinhead became uneasy.
     "I wonder if riding through the air is liable to spoil pumpkins,"  he
said.
     "Not unless you carelessly drop your head over  the  side,"  answered
the Woggle-Bug. "In that event your head would no longer be a pumpkin, for
it would become a squash."
     "Have I not asked you to restrain these  unfeeling  jokes?"  demanded
Tip, looking at the Woggle-Bug with a severe expression.
     "You have; and I've restrained a good  many  of  them,"  replied  the
insect. "But there are opportunities for so many  excellent  puns  in  our
language that, to an  educated  person  like  myself,  the  temptation  to
express them is almost irresistible."
     "People with more or less education discovered those  puns  centuries
ago," said Tip.
     "Are you sure?" asked the Woggle-Bug, with a startled look.
     "Of course I am," answered the boy. "An educated Woggle-Bug may be  a
new thing; but a Woggle-Bug education is as old as the hills, judging from
the display you make of it."
     The insect seemed much impressed by  this  remark,  and  for  a  time
maintained a meek silence.
     The Scarecrow, in shifting  his  seat,  saw  upon  the  cushions  the
pepper-box which Tip had cast aside, and began to examine it.
     "Throw it overboard," said  the  boy;  "it's  quite  empty  now,  and
there's no use keeping it."
     "Is it really empty?" asked the Scarecrow, looking curiously into the
box.
     "Of course it is," answered Tip. "I shook  out  every  grain  of  the
powder.
     "Then the box has two bottoms," announced  the  Scarecrow,  "for  the
bottom on the inside is fully an inch away from the bottom on the outside.
"
     "Let me see," said the Tin Woodman, taking the box from  his  friend.
"Yes," he declared, after looking it over,  "the  thing  certainly  has  a
false bottom. Now, I wonder what that is for?"
     "Can't you get it apart, and  find  out?"  enquired  Tip,  now  quite
interested in the mystery.
     "Why, yes; the lower bottom unscrews,"  said  the  Tin  Woodman.  "My
fingers are rather stiff; please see if you can open it."
     He handed the pepper-box to Tip, who had no difficulty in  unscrewing
the bottom. And in the cavity  below  were  three  silver  pills,  with  a
carefully folded paper lying underneath them.
     This paper the boy proceeded to unfold, taking care not to spill  the
pills, and found several lines clearly written in red ink.
     "Read it aloud," said the Scarecrow. so Tip read, as follows:

               "DR. NIKIDIK'S CELEBRATED WISHING PILLS.
                "Directions for Use: Swallow one pill;
              count seventeen by twos; then make a Wish.
                - The Wish will immediately be granted.
                CAUTION: Keep in a Dry and Dark Place."

     "Why, this is a very valuable discovery!" cried the Scarecrow.
     "It is, indeed," replied Tip, gravely. "These pills may be  of  great
use to us. I wonder if old Mombi knew they  were  in  the  bottom  of  the
pepper-box. I remember hearing her say that she got  the  Powder  of  Life
from this same Nikidik."
     "He must be a powerful Sorcerer!" exclaimed  the  Tin  Woodman;  "and
since the powder proved a success we  ought  to  have  confidence  in  the
pills."
     "But how," asked the Scarecrow, "can anyone count seventeen by  twos?
Seventeen is an odd number."
     "That is true,"  replied  Tip,  greatly  disappointed.  "No  one  can
possibly count seventeen by twos."
     "Then the pills are of no use to us," wailed  the  Pumpkinhead;  "and
this fact overwhelms me with grief. For I had  intended  wishing  that  my
head would never spoil."
     "Nonsense!" said the Scarecrow, sharply. "If we could use  the  pills
at all we would make far better wishes than that."
     "I do not see how anything could be better," protested poor Jack. "If
you were liable to spoil at any time you could understand my anxiety."
     "For my part," said the Tin Woodman, "I sympathize with you in  every
respect. But since we cannot count seventeen by twos, sympathy is all  you
are liable to get."
     By this time it had become quite dark, and the voyagers  found  above
them a cloudy sky, through which the rays of the moon could not penetrate.
     The Gump flew steadily on, and for some  reason  the  huge  sofa-body
rocked more and more dizzily every hour.
     The Woggle-Bug declared he was sea-sick; and Tip was  also  pale  and
somewhat distressed. But the others clung to the backs of  the  sofas  and
did not seem to mind the motion as long as they were not tipped out.
     Darker and darker grew the night, and on and on sped the Gump through
the black heavens. The travelers could not even see one  another,  and  an
oppressive silence settled down upon them.
     After a long time Tip, who had been thinking deeply, spoke.
     "How are we to know when we come to the pallace of Glinda the  Good?"
he asked.
     "It's a long way to Glinda's palace,"  answered  the  Woodman;  "I've
traveled it."
     "But how are we to know how fast the Gump is flying?"  persisted  the
boy. "We cannot see a single thing down on the earth, and  before  morning
we may be far beyond the place we want to reach."
     "That is all true enough," the Scarecrow replied, a little  uneasily.
"But I do not see how we can stop just now;  for  we  might  alight  in  a
river, or on, the top of a steeple; and that would be a great disaster."
     So they permitted the Gump to fly on, with regular flops of its great
wings, and waited patiently for morning.
     Then Tip's fears were proven to be well founded; for with  the  first
streaks of gray  dawn  they  looked  over  the  sides  of  the  sofas  and
discovered rolling plains dotted with queer villages,  where  the  houses,
instead of being domeshaped - as they all are in the  Land  of  Oz  -  had
slanting roofs that rose to a peak in the center. Odd looking animals were
also moving about upon the open plains, and the country was unfamiliar  to
both the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow, who had  formerly  visited  Glinda
the Good's domain and knew it well.
     "We are lost!" said the Scarecrow, dolefully.  "The  Gump  must  have
carried us entirely out of the Land of Oz and over the sandy  deserts  and
into the terrible outside world that Dorothy told us about."
     "We must get back," exclaimed the Tin Woodman,  earnestly.  "we  must
get back as soon as possible!"
     "Turn around!" cried Tip to the Gump. "turn as quickly as you can!"
     "If I do I shall upset," answered the Gump. "I'm not at all  used  to
flying, and the best plan would be for me to alight  in  some  place,  and
then I can turn around and take a fresh start."
     Just then, however, there seemed to be no stopping-place  that  would
answer their purpose. They flew over a village so big that the  Woggle-Bug
declared it was a city. and then they came to a range  of  high  mountains
with many deep gorges and steep cliffs showing plainly.
     "Now is our chance to stop," said the boy,  finding  they  were  very
close to the mountain tops. Then he turned  to  the  Gump  and  commanded:
"Stop at the first level place you see!"
     "Very well," answered the Gump, and settled down upon a table of rock
that stood between two cliffs.
     But not being experienced in such matters, the Gump did not judge his
speed correctly; and instead of coming to a stop upon  the  flat  rock  he
missed it by half the width of his body, breaking off both his right wings
against the sharp edge of the rock and then tumbling over  and  over  down
the cliff.
     Our friends held on to the sofas as long as they could, but when  the
Gump caught on a proJecting rock the Thing stopped suddenly - bottom  side
up - and all were immediately dumped out.
     By good fortune they fell only a few feet; for underneath them was  a
monster nest, built by a colony of Jackdaws in a hollow ledge of rock;  so
none of them - not even the Pumpkinhead - was injured  by  the  fall.  For
Jack found his precious head resting on the soft breast of the  Scarecrow,
which made an excellent cushion; and Tip fell on  a  mass  of  leaves  and
papers, which saved him from injury. The Woggle-Bug had bumped  his  round
head against the Saw-Horse, but without causing him more than  a  moment's
inconvenience.
     The Tin Woodman was at first much alarmed; but finding he had escaped
without even a scratch upon his beautiful nickle-plate he at once regained
his accustomed cheerfulness and turned to address his comrades.
     "Our Journey had ended rather suddenly,"  said  he;  "and  we  cannot
justly blame our friend the Gump for our accident, because he did the best
he could under the circumstances. But how we are ever to escape from  this
nest I must leave to someone with better brains than I possess."
     Here he gazed at the Scarecrow; who crawled to the edge of  the  nest
and looked over. Below them was a sheer precipice several hundred feet  in
depth. Above them was a smooth cliff unbroken save by the  point  of  rock
where the wrecked body of the Gump still hung suspended from  the  end  of
one of the sofas. There really seemed to be no means  of  escape,  and  as
they realized their helpless plight the little band  of  adventurers  gave
way to their bewilderment.
     "This is  a  worse  prison  than  the  palace,"  sadly  remarked  the
Woggle-Bug.
     "I wish we had stayed there," moaned Jack.
     "I'm afraid the mountain air isn't good for pumpkins."
     "It won't be when the Jackdaws come  back,"  growled  the  Saw-Horse,
which lay waving its legs in a vain endeavor to get upon its  feet  again.
"Jackdaws are especially fond of pumpkins."
     "Do you think the birds will come here?" asked Jack, much distressed.
     "Of course they will," said Tip; "for this is their nest.  And  there
must be hundreds of them," he continued, "for see what  a  lot  of  things
they have brought here!"
     Indeed, the nest was half filled with a most  curious  collection  of
small articles for which the birds  could  have  no  use,  but  which  the
thieving Jackdaws had stolen during many years from the homes of men.  And
as the nest was safely hidden where no human being could  reach  it,  this
lost property would never be recovered.
     The Woggle-Bug, searching among the rubbish - for the Jackdaws  stole
useless things as well as valuable ones  -  turned  up  with  his  foot  a
beautiful diamond necklace. This was so greatly admired by the Tin Woodman
that the Woggle-Bug presented it to him  with  a  graceful  speech,  after
which the Woodman hung it around  his  neck  with  much  pride,  rejoicing
exceedingly when the big diamonds glittered in the sun's rays.
     But now they heard a great jabbering and flopping of  wings,  and  as
the sound grew nearer to them Tip exclaimed:
     "The Jackdaws are coming! And if they find us here they  will  surely
kill us in their anger."
     "I was afraid of this!" moaned the Pumpkinhead. "My time has come!"
     "And mine, also!" said the Woggle-Bug; "for Jackdaws are the greatest
enemies of my race."
     The others were not at all afraid; but the Scarecrow at once  decided
to save those of the party who were liable to  be  injured  by  the  angry
birds. So he commanded Tip to take off Jack's head and lie down with it in
the bottom of the nest, and when this was done he ordered  the  Woggle-Bug
to lie beside Tip. Nick Chopper, who knew from past experience  Just  what
to do, then took the  Scarecrow  to  pieces  (all  except  his  head)  and
scattered the straw over Tip and the Woggle-Bug, completely covering their
bodies.
     Hardly had this been accomplished when the flock of Jackdaws  reached
them. Perceiving the intruders in their nest the birds flew down upon them
with screams of rage.



21. Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills

     The Tin Woodman  was  usually  a  peaceful  man,  but  when  occasion
required he could fight as fiercely as a Roman  gladiator.  So,  when  the
Jackdaws nearly knocked him down in their rush of wings, and  their  sharp
beaks and claws threatened to damage his brilliant  plating,  the  Woodman
picked up his axe and made it whirl swiftly around his head.
     But although many were beaten off in this  way,  the  birds  were  so
numerous and so brave that they  continued  the  attack  as  furiously  as
before. Some of them pecked at the eyes of the Gump, which hung  over  the
nest in a helpless condition; but the Gump's eyes were of glass and  could
not be injured. Others of the Jackdaws rushed at the Saw-Horse;  but  that
animal, being still upon his back, kicked out so viciously with his wooden
legs that he beat off as many assailants as did the Woodman's axe.
     Finding themselves thus opposed, the birds fell upon the  Scarecrow's
straw, which lay  at  the  center  of  the  nest,  covering  Tip  and  the
Woggle-Bug and Jack's pumpkin head, and began tearing it away  and  flying
off with it, only to let it drop, straw  by  straw  into  the  great  gulf
beneath.
     The Scarecrow's head, noting with dismay this wanton  destruction  of
his interior, cried to the Tin Woodman to save him; and that  good  friend
responded with renewed energy. His axe fairly flashed among the  Jackdaws,
and fortunately the Gump began wildly waving the two  wings  remaining  on
the left side of its body. The flutter of these  great  wings  filled  the
Jackdaws with terror, and when the Gump by its exertions freed itself from
the peg of rock on which it hung, and sank flopping  into  the  nest,  the
alarm of the birds knew  no  bounds  and  they  fled  screaming  over  the
mountains.
     When the last foe had disappeared, Tip crawled from under  the  sofas
and assisted the Woggle-Bug to follow him.
     "We are saved!" shouted the boy, delightedly.
     "We are, indeed!" responded the Educated Insect, fairly  hugging  the
stiff head of the Gump in his joy. "and we owe it all to the  flopping  of
the Thing, and the good axe of the Woodman!"
     "If I am saved, get me out of here!"  called  Jack;  whose  head  was
still beneath the sofas; and Tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place
it upon its neck again. He also set the Saw-Horse upright, and said to it:
     "We owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made."
     "I really think we  have  escaped  very  nicely,"  remarked  the  Tin
Woodman, in a tone of pride.
     "Not so!" exclaimed a hollow voice.
     At this they all turned in surprise to look at the Scarecrow's  head,
which lay at the back of the nest.
     "I am completely ruined!" declared the Scarecrow, as he  noted  their
astonishment. "For where is the straw that stuffs my body?"
     The awful question startled them all. They gazed around the nest with
horror, for not a vestige of straw remained. The Jackdaws had stolen it to
the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that yawned for hundreds  of
feet beneath the nest.
     "My  poor,  poor  friend!"  said  the  Tin  Woodman,  taking  up  the
Scarecrow's head and caressing it tenderly;  "whoever  could  imagine  you
would come to this untimely end?"
     "I did it to save my friends," returned the head; "and I am glad that
I perished in so noble and unselfish a manner."
     "But why are you all so despondent?" inquired  the  Woggle-Bug.  "The
Scarecrow's clothing is still safe."
     "Yes," answered the  Tin  Woodman;  "but  our  friend's  clothes  are
useless without stuffing."
     "Why not stuff him with money?" asked Tip.
     "Money!" they all cried, in an amazed chorus.
     "To be sure," said the boy. "In the bottom of the nest are  thousands
of dollar bills - and two-dollar bills - and five-dollar bills - and tens,
and twenties, and fifties. There are enough  of  them  to  stuff  a  dozen
Scarecrows. Why not use the money?"
     The Tin Woodman began to turn over the rubbish with the handle of his
axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only  worthless  papers
were found to be all bills of various denominations, which the mischievous
Jackdaws had for years been engaged in  stealing  from  the  villages  and
cities they visited.
     There was an immense fortune lying in  that  inaccessible  nest;  and
Tip's suggestion was, with the Scarecrow's consent, quickly acted upon.
     They selected all the newest and cleanest  bills  and  assorted  them
into various piles. The Scarecrow's left leg and boot  were  stuffed  with
fivedollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten-dollar bills, and his
body so closely filled with fifties, one-hundreds and  one-thousands  that
he could scarcely button his jacket with comfort.
     "You are now" said the Woggle-Bug, impressively, when  the  task  had
been completed, "the most valuable member of our party;  and  as  you  are
among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent."
     "Thank you," returned the Scarecrow, gratefully. "I feel like  a  new
man; and although at first glance I might be mistaken for a Safety Deposit
Vault, I beg you to remember that my Brains are still composed of the same
old material. And these are the possessions that have  always  made  me  a
person to be depended upon in an emergency."
     "Well, the emergency is here," observed Tip; "and unless your  brains
help us out of it we shall be compelled to pass the remainder of our lives
in this nest."
     "How about these wishing pills?" enquired the Scarecrow,  taking  the
box from his jacket pocket. "Can't we use them to escape?"
     "Not unless we  can  count  seventeen  by  twos,"  answered  the  Tin
Woodman. "But our friend the Woggle-Bug claims to be highly  educated,  so
he ought easily to figure out how that can be done."
     "It isn't a question of education," returned the Insect; "it's merely
a question of mathematics. I've seen the professor work lots  of  sums  on
the blackboard, and he claimed anything could be done with x's and y's and
a's, and such things, by mixing them up with plenty of plusses and minuses
and equals, and so forth. But he never said anything,  so  far  as  I  can
remember, about counting up to the odd number of  seventeen  by  the  even
numbers of twos."
     "Stop! stop!" cried the Pumpkinhead. "You're making my head ache."
     "And mine," added the Scarecrow. "Your mathematics seem  to  me  very
like a bottle of mixed pickles the more you fish for  what  you  want  the
less chance you have of getting it. I am certain that if the thing can  be
accomplished at all, it is in a very simple manner."
     "Yes," said Tip. "old Mombi couldn't use x's  and  minuses,  for  she
never went to school."
     "Why not start counting at a  half  of  one?"  asked  the  Saw-Horse,
abruptly. "Then anyone can count up to seventeen by twos very easily."
     They looked  at  each  other  in  surprise,  for  the  Saw-Horse  was
considered the most stupid of the entire party.
     "You make me quite ashamed of myself," said the Scarecrow, bowing low
to the Saw-Horse.
     "Nevertheless, the creature is right," declared the  Woggle-Bug;  for
twice one-half is one, and if you get to one it is easy to count from  one
up to seventeen by twos."
     "I wonder I didn't think of that myself," said the Pumpkinhead.
     "I don't," returned the Scarecrow. "You're no wiser than the rest  of
us, are you? But let us make a wish at once. Who will  swallow  the  first
pill?"
     "Suppose you do it," suggested Tip.
     "I can't," said the Scarecrow.
     "Why not? You've a mouth, haven't you?" asked the boy.
     "Yes; but my mouth is painted on, and there's  no  swallow  connected
with it,' answered the Scarecrow. "In fact," he  continued,  looking  from
one to another critically, "I believe the boy and the Woggle-Bug  are  the
only ones in our party that are able to swallow."
     Observing the truth of this remark, Tip said:
     "Then I will undertake to make the first wish. Give  me  one  of  the
Silver Pills."
     This the Scarecrow tried to do; but his padded gloves were too clumsy
to clutch so small an object, and he held the box toward the boy while Tip
selected one of the pills and swallowed it.
     "Count!" cried the Scarecrow.
     "One-half, one, three, five,  seven,  nine,  eleven,!"  counted  Tip.
thirteen, fifteen, seventeen.
     "Now wish!" said the Tin Woodman anxiously:
     But Just then the boy began to suffer  such  fearful  pains  that  he
became alarmed.
     "The pill has poisoned me!" he  gasped;  "O  -  h!  O-o-o-o-o!  Ouch!
Murder! Fire! O-o-h!" and here he rolled upon the bottom of  the  nest  in
such contortions that he frightened them all.
     "What can we do for you. Speak, I beg!" entreated  the  Tin  Woodman,
tears of sympathy running down his nickel cheeks.
     "I - I don't know!" answered Tip. "O - h! I wish I'd never  swallowed
that pill!"
     Then at once the pain stopped, and the boy rose to his feet again and
found the Scarecrow looking with amazement at the end of the pepper-box.
     "What's happened?" asked the boy, a  little  ashamed  of  his  recent
exhibition.
     "Why, the three pills are in the box again!" said the Scarecrow.
     "Of course they are," the Woggle-Bug declared. "Didn't Tip wish  that
he'd never swallowed one of them? Well, the wish came true, and he  didn't
swallow one of them. So of course they are all three in the box."
     "That may be; but the pill gave me a dreadful pain, just  the  same,"
said the boy.
     "Impossible!" declared the Woggle-Bug. "If you have  never  swallowed
it, the pill can not have given you  a  pain.  And  as  your  wish,  being
granted, proves you did not swallow the pill, it is also  plain  that  you
suffered no pain."
     "Then it was a splendid imitation of a pain," retorted Tip,  angrily.
"Suppose you try the next pill yourself. We've wasted one wish already."
     "Oh, no, we haven't!" protested the Scarecrow. "Here are still  three
pills in the box, and each pill is good for a wish."
     "Now you're making my head ache," said Tip. "I can't  understand  the
thing at all. But I won't take another pill, I promise you!" and with this
remark he retired sulkily to the back of the nest.
     "Well," said the Woggle-Bug, "it remains for me to save us in my most
Highly Magnified and Thoroughly Educated manner; for I seem to be the only
one able and willing to make a wish. Let me have one of the pills."
     He swallowed it without hesitation, and they all stood  admiring  his
courage while the Insect counted seventeen by twos in the  same  way  that
Tip had done. And for some  reason  -  perhaps  because  Woggle-Bugs  have
stronger stomachs than  boys  -  the  silver  pellet  caused  it  no  pain
whatever.
     "I wish the Gump's broken wings mended, and as good as new!" said the
Woggle-Bug, in a slow; impressive voice.
     All turned to look at the Thing, and so quickly  had  the  wish  been
granted that the Gump lay before them in perfect repair, and as well  able
to fly through the air as when it had first been brought to  life  on  the
roof of the palace.



22. The Scarecrow Appeals to Glenda the Good

     "Hooray!" shouted the  Scarecrow,  gaily.  "We  can  now  leave  this
miserable Jackdaws' nest whenever we please."
     "But it is nearly dark," said the Tin Woodman; "and  unless  we  wait
until morning to make our flight we may get into  more  trouble.  I  don't
like these night trips, for one never knows what will happen."
     So it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers  amused
themselves in the twilight by searching the Jackdaws' nest for treasures.
     The Woggle-Bug found two handsome bracelets of  wrought  gold,  which
fitted his slender arms very well. The Scarecrow took a fancy  for  rings,
of which there were many in the nest. Before long he had fitted a ring  to
each finger of his padded gloves, and not being content with that  display
he added one more to each thumb. As he carefully  chose  those  rings  set
with sparkling stones,  such  as  rubies,  amethysts  and  sapphires,  the
Scarecrow's hands now presented a most brilliant appearance.
     "This nest would be a picnic for Queen Jinjur,"  said  he,  musingly.
"for as nearly as I can make out she and her girls conquered me merely  to
rob my city of its emeralds."
     The Tin Woodman was content with his diamond necklace and refused  to
accept any additional decorations; but Tip  secured  a  fine  gold  watch,
which was attached to a heavy fob, and placed it in his pocket  with  much
pride. He also pinned several jeweled brooches to Jack  Pumpkinhead's  red
waistcoat, and attached a lorgnette, by means of a fine chain, to the neck
of the SawHorse.
     "It's very  pretty,"  said  the  creature,  regarding  the  lorgnette
approvingly; "but what is it for?"
     None of them could answer that question, however;  so  the  Saw-Horse
decided it was some rare decoration and became very fond of it.
     That none of the party might  be  slighted,  they  ended  by  placing
several large seal rings upon the points of the Gump's  antlers,  although
that odd personage seemed by no means gratified by the attention.
     Darkness soon fell upon them, and Tip  and  the  Woggle-Bug  went  to
sleep while the others sat down to wait patiently for the day.
     Next morning they had  cause  to  congratulate  themselves  upon  the
useful condition of the Gump; for with daylight a great flock of  Jackdaws
approached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest.
     But our adventurers did not wait for the assault. They  tumbled  into
the cushioned seats of the sofas as quickly as possible, and Tip gave  the
word to the Gump to start.
     At once it rose into the air, the great wings flopping  strongly  and
with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the  nest
that the chattering  Jackdaws  took  possession  without  any  attempt  at
pursuit.
     The Thing flew due North, going in the same direction from whence  it
had come. At least, that was  the  Scarecrow's  opinion,  and  the  others
agreed that the Scarecrow was the best judge of direction.  After  passing
over several cities and villages the Gump carried them high above a  broad
plain where houses became more and more scattered until  they  disappeared
altogether. Next came the wide, sandy desert separating the  rest  of  the
world from the Land of Oz, and before noon they saw the dome-shaped houses
that proved they were once more within the borders of their native land.
     "But the houses and fences are blue," said the Tin Woodman, "and that
indicates we are in the land  of  the  Munchkins,  and  therefore  a  long
distance from Glinda the Good."
     "What shall we do?" asked the boy, turning to their guide.
     "I don't know" replied the Scarecrow, frankly. "If  we  were  at  the
Emerald City we could then move  directly  southward,  and  so  reach  our
destination. But we dare not go to the  Emerald  City,  and  the  Gump  is
probably carrying us further in the wrong direction with every flop of its
wings."
     "Then the Woggle-Bug must swallow another pill," said Tip, decidedly,
"and wish us headed in the right direction."
     "Very well," returned the Highly Magnified one; "I'm willing."
     But when the Scarecrow searched in  his  pocket  for  the  pepper-box
containing the two silver Wishing Pills, it was not to  be  found.  Filled
with anxiety, the voyagers hunted throughout every inch of the  Thing  for
the precious box; but it had disappeared entirely.
     And still the Gump flew onward, carrying them they knew not where.
     "I must have left the pepper-box in the  Jackdaws'  nest,"  said  the
Scarecrow, at length.
     "It is a great misfortune," the Tin Woodman declared. "But we are  no
worse off than before we discovered the Wishing Pills."
     "We are better off," replied Tip. "for  the  one  pill  we  used  has
enabled us to escape from that horrible nest."
     "Yet the loss of the other two is  serious,  and  I  deserve  a  good
scolding for my carelessness," the Scarecrow rejoined, penitently. "For in
such an unusual party as this accidents are liable to happen  any  moment,
and even now we may be approaching a new danger."
     No one dared contradict this, and a dismal silence ensued.
     The Gump flew steadily on.
     Suddenly Tip uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise.  "We  must  have
reached the South Country," he cried, "for below us everything is red!"
     Immediately they all leaned over the backs of the sofas to look - all
except Jack, who was too careful of his pumpkin head to risk its  slipping
off his neck. Sure enough; the red houses and fences and  trees  indicated
they were within the domain of Glinda the Good;  and  presently,  as  they
glided rapidly on, the Tin Woodman recognized the roads and buildings they
passed, and altered slightly the flight of the Gump  so  that  they  might
reach the palace of the celebrated Sorceress.
     "Good!" cried the Scarecrow, delightedly. "We do not  need  the  lost
Wishing Pills now, for we have arrived at our destination."
     Gradually the Thing sank lower and nearer  to  the  ground  until  at
length it came to rest within the beautiful gardens  of  Glinda,  settling
upon a velvety green lawn  close  by  a  fountain  which  sent  sprays  of
flashing gems, instead of water, high into the air, whence they fell  with
a soft, tinkling sound into the carved  marble  basin  placed  to  receive
them.
     Everything was very gorgeous  in  Glinda's  gardens,  and  while  our
voyagers gazed about with admiring eyes a  company  of  soldiers  silently
appeared and surrounded them. But these soldiers of  the  great  Sorceress
were entirely different from those of Jinjur's Army  of  Revolt,  although
they were likewise girls. For Glinda's soldiers  wore  neat  uniforms  and
bore swords and spears; and they marched with a skill and  precision  that
proved them well trained in the arts of war.
     The Captain commanding this troop - which was Glinda's  private  Body
Guard - - recognized the Scarecrow  and  the  Tin  Woodman  at  once,  and
greeted them with respectful salutations.
     "Good day!" said the Scarecrow, gallantly removing his hat, while the
Woodman gave a soldierly salute; "we have come to request an audience with
your fair Ruler."
     "Glinda is  now  within  her  palace,  awaiting  you,"  returned  the
Captain; "for she saw you coming long before you arrived."
     "That is strange!" said Tip, wondering.
     "Not at all," answered the Scarecrow,  "for  Glinda  the  Good  is  a
mighty Sorceress, and nothing that goes on in the Land of Oz  escapes  her
notice. I suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves."
     "Then what was the use of our coming?" asked Jack, stupidly.
     "To prove you are a Pumpkinhead!" retorted the  Scarecrow.  "But,  if
the Sorceress expects us, we must not keep her waiting."
     So they all clambered out of  the  sofas  and  followed  the  Captain
toward the palace - even the Saw-Horse  taking  his  place  in  the  queer
procession.
     Upon her throne of finely wrought gold  sat  Glinda,  and  she  could
scarcely repress a smile as her peculiar visitors entered and bowed before
her. Both the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman she knew and  liked;  but  the
awkward Pumpkinhead and Highly Magnified Woggle-Bug were creatures she had
never seen before, and they seemed even more curious than the  others.  As
for the Saw-Horse, he looked to be nothing more than an animated chunk  of
wood; and he bowed so stiffly that his  head  bumped  against  the  floor,
causing a ripple of laughter among the soldiers, in which  Glinda  frankly
joined.
     "I beg to announce to your glorious highness," began  the  Scarecrow,
in a solemn voice, "that my Emerald City has been overrun by  a  crowd  of
impudent girls with knitting-needles,  who  have  enslaved  all  the  men,
robbed the streets and public buildings of all their emerald  jewels,  and
usurped my throne."
     "I know it," said Glinda.
     "They also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good  friends
and allies you see before you," continued the Scarecrow. "and had  we  not
managed to escape their clutches our days would long since have ended."
     "I know it," repeated Glinda.
     "Therefore  I  have  come  to  beg  your  assistance,"  resumed   the
Scarecrow, "for I believe you are always glad to  succor  the  unfortunate
and oppressed."
     "That is true," replied the Sorceress, slowly. "But the Emerald  City
is now ruled by General Jinjur, who has caused herself  to  be  proclaimed
Queen. What right have I to oppose her?"
     "Why, she stole the throne from me," said the Scarecrow.
     "And how came you to possess the throne?" asked Glinda.
     "I got it from the Wizard of Oz, and by the choice  of  the  people,"
returned the Scarecrow, uneasy at such questioning.
     "And where did the Wizard get it?" she continued gravely.
     "I am told he took it from  Pastoria,  the  former  King,"  said  the
Scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the Sorceress.
     "Then," declared Glinda, "the throne  of  the  Emerald  City  belongs
neither to you nor to Jinjur, but to this Pastoria from  whom  the  Wizard
usurped it."
     "That is true," acknowledged the Scarecrow, humbly; "but Pastoria  is
now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place."
     "Pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the  throne  of
the Emerald City. Did you know that?" questioned the Sorceress.
     "No," replied the Scarecrow. "But if the girl still lives I will  not
stand in her way. It will satisfy me as well to have Jinjur turned out, as
an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. In fact, it isn't much fun to
be King, especially if one has good brains. I have  known  for  some  time
that I am fitted to occupy a far more exalted position. But where  is  the
girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?"
     "Her name is Ozma," answered Glinda. "But where she is I  have  tried
in vain to discover. For the Wizard of Oz, when he stole the  throne  from
Ozma's father, hid the girl in some  secret  place;  and  by  means  of  a
magical trick with which I am not familiar he also managed to prevent  her
being discovered - even by so experienced a Sorceress as myself."
     "That is strange," interrupted the  Woggle-Bug,  pompously.  "I  have
been informed that the Wonderful Wizard of Oz  was  nothing  more  than  a
humbug!"
     "Nonsense!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, much provoked  by  this  speech.
"Didn't he give me a wonderful set of brains?"
     "There's no humbug  about  my  heart,"  announced  the  Tin  Woodman,
glaring indignantly at the Woggle-Bug.
     "Perhaps I was misinformed," stammered the Insect, shrinking back; "I
never knew the Wizard personally."
     "Well, we did," retorted the Scarecrow, "and  he  was  a  very  great
Wizard, I assure you. It is true he was guilty of some slight  impostures,
but unless he was a great Wizard how - let me ask - could he  have  hidden
this girl Ozma so securely that no one can find her?"
     "I - I give it up!" replied the Woggle-Bug, meekly.
     "That is the most sensible speech you've made," said the Tin Woodman.
     "I must really make another effort to discover  where  this  girl  is
hidden," resumed the Sorceress, thoughtfully. "I have in my library a book
in which is inscribed every action of the Wizard while he was in our  land
of Oz - or, at least, every action that could be  observed  by  my  spies.
This book I will read carefully tonight, and try to single  out  the  acts
that may guide us in discovering the lost  Ozma.  In  the  meantime,  pray
amuse yourselves in my palace and command my servants as if they were your
own. I will grant you another audience tomorrow."
     With this gracious speech Glinda dismissed the adventurers, and  they
wandered away through the beautiful gardens,  where  they  passed  several
hours enjoying all the delightful things  with  which  the  Queen  of  the
Southland had surrounded her royal palace.
     On the following morning they again appeared before Glinda, who  said
to them:
     "I have searched  carefully  through  the  records  of  the  Wizard's
actions, and among them I can find but three  that  appear  to  have  been
suspicious. He ate beans with a knife, made three  secret  visits  to  old
Mombi, and limped slightly on his left foot."
     "Ah! that last is certainly suspicious!" exclaimed the Pumpkinhead.
     "Not necessarily," said the Scarecrow. "he may, have had corns.  Now,
it seems to me his eating beans with a knife is more suspicious."
     "Perhaps it is a polite custom in Omaha, from which great country the
Wizard originally came," suggested the Tin Woodman.
     "It may be," admitted the Scarecrow.
     "But why," asked Glinda, "did he make  three  secret  visits  to  old
Mombi?"
     "Ah! Why, indeed!" echoed the Woggle-Bug, impressively.
     "We know that the Wizard taught the old woman many of his  tricks  of
magic," continued Glinda; "and this he would not have  done  had  she  not
assisted him in some way. So we may suspect with good  reason  that  Mombi
aided him to hide the girl Ozma, who was the real heir to  the  throne  of
the Emerald City, and a constant danger to the usurper. For, if the people
knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their Queen  and  restore
her to her rightful position."
     "An able argument!" cried the Scarecrow. "I have no doubt that  Mombi
was mixed up in this wicked business. But how does that knowledge help us?
"
     "We must find Mombi," replied Glinda, "and force her  to  tell  where
the girl is hidden."
     "Mombi is now with Queen Jinjur, in the Emerald, City" said Tip.  "It
was she who threw so many  obstacles  in  our  pathway,  and  made  Jinjur
threaten to destroy my friends and give  me  back  into  the  old  witch's
power."
     "Then," decided Glinda, "I will march with my  army  to  the  Emerald
City, and take Mombi prisoner. After that we can, perhaps,  force  her  to
tell the truth about Ozma."
     "She is a terrible old woman!" remarked Tip, with a  shudder  at  the
thought of Mombi's black kettle; "and obstinate, too."
     "I am quite obstinate myself," returned the Sorceress, with  a  sweet
smile. "so I do not fear Mombi  in  the  least.  Today  I  will  make  all
necessary preparations, and  we  will  march  upon  the  Emerald  City  at
daybreak tomorrow."



23. The Tin-Woodman Plucks a Rose

     The Army of Glinda the Good looked very grand and  imposing  when  it
assembled at daybreak before the palace gates. The uniforms  of  the  girl
soldiers were pretty and of gay colors,  and  their  silver-tipped  spears
were  bright  and  glistening,  the  long   shafts   being   inlaid   with
mother-of-pearl. All the officers wore sharp, gleaming swords, and shields
edged with peacockfeathers; and it really seemed that no foe could by  any
possibility defeat such a brilliant army.
     The Sorceress rode in a beautiful palanquin which was like  the  body
of a coach, having doors and windows with silken curtains; but instead  of
wheels, which a coach has, the palanquin rested upon two long,  horizontal
bars, which were borne upon the shoulders of twelve servants.
     The Scarecrow and his comrades decided to ride in the Gump, in  order
to keep up with the swift march of the army; so, as  soon  as  Glinda  had
started and her soldiers had marched away  to  the  inspiring  strains  of
music played by the royal band, our friends climbed  into  the  sofas  and
followed. The Gump  flew  along  slowly  at  a  point  directly  over  the
palanquin in which rode the Sorceress.
     "Be careful," said the Tin Woodman to the Scarecrow, who was  leaning
far over the side to look at the army below. "You might fall."
     "It wouldn't matter," remarked the educated Woggle-Bug. "he can't get
broke so long as he is stuffed with money."
     "Didn't I ask you" began Tip, in a reproachful voice.
     "You did!" said the Woggle-Bug, promptly. "And I beg your  pardon.  I
will really try to restrain myself."
     "You'd better," declared the boy. "That is, if you wish to travel  in
our company."
     "Ah! I couldn't bear to part with  you  now,"  murmured  the  Insect,
feelingly; so Tip let the subject drop.
     The army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came  to
the walls of the Emerald City. By the dim light of the new moon,  however,
Glinda's forces silently surrounded the city and pitched  their  tents  of
scarlet silk upon the greensward. The tent of  the  Sorceress  was  larger
than the others, and was composed of pure white silk, with scarlet banners
flying above it. A tent was also pitched for the  Scarecrow's  party;  and
when these  preparations  had  been  made,  with  military  precision  and
quickness, the army retired to rest.
     Great was the  amazement  of  Queen  Jinjur  next  morning  when  her
soldiers came running to inform her of the vast army surrounding them. She
at once climbed to a high tower of the royal palace and saw banners waving
in every direction and the great white tent of  Glinda  standing  directly
before the gates.
     "We are surely lost!" cried Jinjur, in  despair;  "for  how  can  our
knittingneedles avail against the long spears and terrible swords  of  our
foes?"
     "The best thing we can do," said one of the girls, "is  to  surrender
as quickly as possible, before we get hurt."
     "Not so," returned Jinjur, more bravely. "The enemy is still  outside
the walls, so we must try to gain time by engaging them in parley. Go  you
with a flag of truce to Glinda and ask her why she has dared to invade  my
dominions, and what are her demands."
     So the girl passed through the gates, bearing a white  flag  to  show
she was on a mission of peace, and  came  to  Glinda's  tent.  "Tell  your
Queen," said the Sorceress to the girl, "that she must deliver  up  to  me
old Mombi, to be my prisoner. If this  is  done  I  will  not  molest  her
farther."
     Now when this message was delivered to the Queen it filled  her  with
dismay, for Mombi was her chief counsellor, and Jinjur was terribly afraid
of the old hag. But she sent for Mombi, and told her what Glinda had said.
     "I see trouble ahead for all of us," muttered the  old  witch,  after
glancing into a magic mirror she carried in her pocket. "But we  may  even
yet escape by deceiving this sorceress, clever as she thinks herself."
     "Don't you think it will be safer for me  to  deliver  you  into  her
hands?" asked Jinjur, nervously.
     "If you do, it will  cost  you  the  throne  of  the  Emerald  City!"
answered the witch, positively. "But if you will let me have my own way, I
can save us both very easily."
     "Then do as you please," replied Jinjur, "for it is  so  aristocratic
to be a Queen that I do not wish to be obliged to return  home  again,  to
make beds and wash dishes for my mother."
     So Mombi called Jellia Jamb to her, and performed a  certain  magical
rite with which she was familiar. As a result of  the  enchantment  Jellia
took on the form and features of  Mombi,  while  the  old  witch  grew  to
resemble the girl so closely that it seemed impossible anyone could  guess
the deception.
     "Now," said old Mombi to the Queen, "let  your  soldiers  deliver  up
this girl to Glinda. She will think she has the real Mombi in  her  power,
and so will return immediately to her own country in the South."
     Therefore Jellia, hobbling along like an aged woman, was led from the
city gates and taken before Glinda.
     "Here is the person you demanded," said one of the guards,  "and  our
Queen now begs you will go away, as you promised, and leave us in peace."
     "That I will surely do," replied Glinda, much pleased;  "if  this  is
really the person she seems to be."
     "It is certainly old Mombi," said the guard,  who  believed  she  was
speaking the truth; and then Jinjur's soldiers returned within the  city's
gates.
     The Sorceress quickly summoned the Scarecrow and his friends  to  her
tent, and began to question the supposed Mombi about the lost  girl  Ozma.
But Jellia knew nothing at all of this affair, and presently she  grew  so
nervous under the questioning that she gave way  and  began  to  weep,  to
Glinda's great astonishment.
     "Here is  some  foolish  trickery!"  said  the  Sorceress,  her  eyes
flashing with anger. "This is not Mombi at all, but some other person  who
has been made to resemble her! Tell me,"  she  demanded,  turning  to  the
trembling girl, "what is your name?"
     This Jellia dared not tell, having been threatened with death by  the
witch if she confessed the fraud. But Glinda, sweet and  fair  though  she
was, understood magic better than any other person in the Land of Oz.  So,
by uttering a few potent words and making a peculiar gesture, she  quickly
transformed the girl into her proper shape, while at  the  same  time  old
Mombi, far away in Jinjur's palace, suddenly resumed her own crooked  form
and evil features.
     "Why, it's Jellia Jamb!" cried the Scarecrow, recognizing in the girl
one of his old friends.
     "It's our interpreter!" said the Pumpkinhead, smiling pleasantly.
     Then Jellia was forced to tell of the trick Mombi had played and  she
also begged Glinda's protection, which the Sorceress readily granted.  But
Glinda was now really angry, and sent word to Jinjur that  the  fraud  was
discovered and she must deliver up  the  real  Mombi  or  suffer  terrible
consequences. Jinjur was prepared for this message,  for  the  witch  well
understood, when her natural form was thrust upon  her,  that  Glinda  had
discovered her trickery. But the wicked old creature had  already  thought
up a new deception, and had made Jinjur promise to carry it  out.  So  the
Queen said to Glinda's messenger:
     "Tell your mistress that I  cannot  find  Mombi  anywhere,  but  that
Glinda is welcome to enter the city and search herself for the old  woman.
She may also bring her friends with her, if she likes; but if she does not
find Mombi by sundown, the Sorceress must promise to go away peaceably and
bother us no more."
     Glinda agreed to these terms, well knowing that Mombi  was  somewhere
within the city walls. So Jinjur caused the gates to be thrown  open,  and
Glinda marched in at the head of a company of soldiers,  followed  by  the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, while Jack  Pumpkinhead  rode  astride  the
Saw-Horse, and the Educated, Highly Magnified Woggle-Bug sauntered  behind
in a dignified manner. Tip walked by the side of the Sorceress, for Glinda
had conceived a great liking for the boy.
     Of course old Mombi had no intention of being found  by  Glinda;  so,
while her enemies were marching  up  the  street,  the  witch  transformed
herself into a red rose growing upon a bush in the garden of  the  palace.
It was a clever idea, and a trick  Glinda  did  not  suspect;  so  several
precious hours were spent in a vain search for Mombi.
     As sundown approached the Sorceress realized she had been defeated by
the superior cunning of the aged witch; so she gave  the  command  to  her
people to march out of the city and back to their tents.
     The Scarecrow and his comrades happened to be searching in the garden
of the palace just then, and  they  turned  with  disappointment  to  obey
Glinda's command. But before they left the garden the Tin Woodman, who was
fond of flowers, chanced to espy a big red rose growing upon a bush; so he
plucked the flower and fastened it securely in the tin buttonhole  of  his
tin bosom.
     As he did this he fancied he heard a low moan proceed from the  rose;
but he paid no attention to the sound, and Mombi was thus carried  out  of
the city and into Glinda's camp without anyone  having  a  suspicion  that
they had succeeded in their quest.



24. The Transformation of Old Mombi

     The Witch was at first frightened at finding herself captured by  the
enemy; but soon she decided that she  was  exactly  as  safe  in  the  Tin
Woodman's button-hole as growing upon the bush. For no one knew  the  rose
and Mombi to be one, and now that she was without the gates  of  the  City
her chances of escaping altogether from Glinda were much improved.
     "But there is no hurry," thought Mombi. "I will wait awhile and enjoy
the humiliation of this Sorceress when she finds I have outwitted her." So
throughout the night the rose lay quietly on the Woodman's bosom,  and  in
the morning, when Glinda summoned our  friends  to  a  consultation,  Nick
Chopper carried his pretty flower with him to the white silk tent.
     "For some reason," said Glinda, "we have failed to find this  cunning
old Mombi; so I fear our expedition will prove a failure. And for  that  I
am sorry, because without our assistance little Ozma will never be rescued
and restored to her rightful position as Queen of the Emerald City"
     "Do not let us give up so easily," said the Pumpkinhead. "Let  us  do
something else."
     "Something else must really be done," replied Glinda, with  a  smile.
"yet I cannot understand how I have been defeated  so  easily  by  an  old
Witch who knows far less of magic than I do myself."
     "While we are on the ground I believe it would  be  wise  for  us  to
conquer the Emerald City for Princess Ozma, and find the girl  afterward,"
said the Scarecrow." And while the girl remains hidden I will gladly  rule
in her place, for I understand the business of  ruling  much  better  than
Jinjur does."
     "But I have promised not to molest Jinjur," objected Glinda.
     "Suppose you all return with me to my kingdom - or  Empire,  rather,"
said the Tin Woodman, politely including the entire party in a royal  wave
of his arm. "It will give me great pleasure to entertain you in my castle,
where there is room enough and to spare. And if any  of  you  wish  to  be
nickelplated, my valet will do it free of all expense."
     While the Woodman was speaking Glinda's eyes had been noting the rose
in his button-hole, and now she imagined she saw the big red leaves of the
flower tremble slightly. This quickly aroused her  suspicions,  and  in  a
moment more the Sorceress had decided that the seeming  rose  was  nothing
else than a transformation of old Mombi. At the same  instant  Mombi  knew
she was discovered and must quickly plan an escape, and as transformations
were easy to her she immediately took the form  of  a  Shadow  and  glided
along the  wall  of  the  tent  toward  the  entrance,  thinking  thus  to
disappear.
     But Glinda had not only equal cunning, but far more  experience  than
the Witch. So the Sorceress reached the opening of  the  tent  before  the
Shadow, and with a wave of her hand closed the entrance so  securely  that
Mombi could not find a crack big enough to creep  through.  The  Scarecrow
and his friends were greatly surprised at Glinda's actions;  for  none  of
them had noted the Shadow. But the Sorceress said to them:
     "Remain perfectly quiet, all of you! For the old Witch  is  even  now
with us in this tent, and I hope to capture her."
     These words so alarmed Mombi that  she  quickly  transformed  herself
from a shadow to a Black Ant, in which shape she crawled along the ground,
seeking a crack or crevice in which to hide her tiny body.
     Fortunately, the ground where the tent had been pitched,  being  Just
before the city gates, was hard  and  smooth;  and  while  the  Ant  still
crawled about, Glinda discovered it and ran quickly forward to effect  its
capture But, Just as her  hand  was  descending,  the  Witch,  now  fairly
frantic with fear, made her last transformation, and in the form of a huge
Griffin sprang through the wall of the tent - tearing the silk asunder  in
her rush - and in a moment had darted away with the speed of a whirlwind.
     Glinda did not hesitate to follow. She sprang upon the  back  of  the
Saw-Horse and cried:
     "Now you shall prove that you have a right to be alive! Run -  run  -
run!"
     The Saw-Horse ran. Like a flash he followed the Griffin,  his  wooden
legs moving so fast that they twinkled like the rays of a star. Before our
friends could recover  from  their  surprise  both  the  Griffin  and  the
Saw-Horse had dashed out of sight.
     "Come! Let us follow!" cried the Scarecrow.
     They ran to the place where the Gump was lying  and  quickly  tumbled
aboard.
     "Fly!" commanded Tip, eagerly.
     "Where to?" asked the Gump, in its calm voice.
     "I don't know," returned Tip, who was very nervous at the delay; "but
if you will mount into the air I think we can discover  which  way  Glinda
has gone."
     "Very well," returned the Gump, quietly;  and  it  spread  its  great
wings and mounted high into the air.
     Far away, across the meadows, they could now  see  two  tiny  specks,
speeding one after the other; and they  knew  these  specks  must  be  the
Griffin and the Saw-Horse. So Tip called the Gump's attention to them  and
bade the creature try to overtake the Witch and the Sorceress. But,  swift
as was the Gump's flight, the pursued and pursuer moved more swiftly  yet,
and within a few moments were blotted out against the dim horizon.
     "Let us continue to follow them, nevertheless," said  the  Scarecrow.
"for the Land of Oz is of small extent, and sooner or later they must both
come to a halt."
     Old Mombi had thought herself very wise  to  choose  the  form  of  a
Griffin, for its  legs  were  exceedingly  fleet  and  its  strength  more
enduring than that of other animals. But  she  had  not  reckoned  on  the
untiring energy of the SawHorse, whose wooden limbs  could  run  for  days
without slacking their speed. Therefore, after an hour's hard running, the
Griffin's breath began to fail, and it panted and  gasped  painfully,  and
moved more slowly than before. Then it reached the edge of the desert  and
began racing across the deep sands. But its tired feet sank far  into  the
sand, and in a few minutes the Griffin fell forward, completely exhausted,
and lay still upon the desert waste.
     Glinda came up a moment later, riding the still  vigorous  Saw-Horse;
and having unwound a slender golden thread from her girdle  the  Sorceress
threw it over the head  of  the  panting  and  helpless  Griffin,  and  so
destroyed the magical power of Mombi's transformation.
     For the animal, with one fierce shudder, disappeared from view, while
in its place was discovered the form of the old Witch, glaring savagely at
the serene and beautiful face of the Sorceress.



25. Princess Ozma of Oz

     "You are my prisoner, and it is  useless  for  you  to  struggle  any
longer," said Glinda, in her soft, sweet voice. "Lie still a  moment,  and
rest yourself, and then I will carry you back to my tent."
     "Why do you seek me?" asked Mombi, still scarce able to speak plainly
for lack of breath. "What have I done to you, to be so persecuted?"
     "You have done nothing to me," answered the gentle Sorceress; "but  I
suspect you have been guilty of several wicked actions; and if I  find  it
is true that you have so abused your  knowledge  of  magic,  I  intend  to
punish you severely."
     "I defy you!" croaked the old hag. "You dare not harm me!"
     Just then the Gump flew up to them and alighted upon the desert sands
beside Glinda. Our friends were delighted to find that Mombi  had  finally
been captured, and after a hurried consultation it was decided they should
all return to the camp in the Gump. So the Saw-Horse  was  tossed  aboard,
and then Glinda still holding an end of the golden thread that was  around
Mombi's neck, forced her prisoner to climb into the sofas. The others  now
followed, and Tip gave the word to the Gump to return.
     The Journey was made in safety, Mombi sitting in  her  place  with  a
grim and sullen air; for the old hag was absolutely helpless  so  long  as
the magical thread encircled her throat. The army hailed  Glinda's  return
with loud cheers, and the party of friends  soon  gathered  again  in  the
royal tent, which had been neatly repaired during their absence.
     "Now," said the Sorceress to Mombi, "I want you to tell  us  why  the
Wonderful Wizard of Oz paid you three  visits,  and  what  became  of  the
child, Ozma, which so curiously disappeared."
     The Witch looked at Glinda defiantly, but said not a word.
     "Answer me!" cried the Sorceress.
     But still Mombi remained silent.
     "Perhaps she doesn't know," remarked Jack.
     "I beg you will keep quiet," said Tip. "You  might  spoil  everything
with your foolishness."
     "Very well, dear father!" returned the Pumpkinhead, meekly.
     "How glad I am to be a Woggle-Bug!"  murmured  the  Highly  Magnified
Insect, softly. "No one can expect wisdom to flow from a pumpkin."
     "Well," said the Scarecrow, "what shall we do to  make  Mombi  speak?
Unless she tells us what we wish to know her capture will do us no good at
all."
     "Suppose we try kindness," suggested the  Tin  Woodman.  "I've  heard
that anyone can be conquered with kindness, no matter how  ugly  they  may
be."
     At this the Witch turned to glare upon him so horribly that  the  Tin
Woodman shrank back abashed.
     Glinda had been carefully considering what to do, and now she  turned
to Mombi and said:
     "You will gain nothing, I assure you, by thus defying us.  For  I  am
determined to learn the truth about the girl Ozma, and unless you tell  me
all that you know, I will certainly put you to death."
     "Oh, no! Don't do that!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman. "It would  be  an
awful thing to kill anyone - even old Mombi!"
     "But it is merely a threat," returned Glinda. "I shall not put  Mombi
to death, because she will prefer to tell me the truth."
     "Oh, I see!" said the tin man, much relieved.
     "Suppose I tell you all that you wish to know,". said Mombi, speaking
so suddenly that she startled them all. "What will you do with me then?"
     "In that case," replied Glinda, "I shall merely ask you  to  drink  a
powerful draught which will cause you to forget all  the  magic  you  have
ever learned."
     "Then I would become a helpless old woman!"
     "But you would be alive," suggested the Pumpkinhead, consolingly.
     "Do try to keep silent!" said Tip, nervously.
     "I'll try," responded Jack; "but you will  admit  that  it's  a  good
thing to be alive."
     "Especially if one happens to  be  Thoroughly  Educated,"  added  the
Woggle-Bug, nodding approval.
     "You may make your choice," Glinda said to old Mombi, "between  death
if you remain silent, and the loss of your magical powers if you  tell  me
the truth. But I think you will prefer to live.
     Mombi cast an uneasy glance at the Sorceress, and saw that she was in
earnest, and not to be trifled with. So she replied, slowly:
     "I will answer your questions."
     "That is what I expected," said Glinda, pleasantly. "You have  chosen
wisely, I assure you."
     She then motioned to one of her Captains, who brought her a beautiful
golden casket. From this  the  Sorceress  drew  an  immense  white  pearl,
attached to a slender chain which she placed around her neck in such a way
that the pearl rested upon her bosom, directly over her heart.
     "Now," said she, "I will ask my first question: Why  did  the  Wizard
pay you three visits?"
     "Because I would not come to him," answered Mombi.
     "That is no answer," said Glinda, sternly. "Tell me the truth."
     "Well," returned Mombi, with downcast eyes, "he visited me  to  learn
the way I make tea-biscuits."
     "Look up!" commanded the Sorceress.
     Mombi obeyed.
     "What is the color of my pearl?" demanded Glinda.
     "Why - it is black!" replied the old Witch, in a tone of wonder.
     "Then you have told me a falsehood!"  cried  Glinda,  angrily.  "Only
when the truth is spoken will my magic pearl remain a pure white in color.
"
     Mombi now saw how useless it was to try to deceive the Sorceress;  so
she said, meanwhile scowling at her defeat:
     "The Wizard brought to me the girl Ozma, who was then no more than  a
baby, and begged me to conceal the child."
     "That is what I thought," declared Glinda, calmly. "What did he  give
you for thus serving him?"
     "He taught me all the magical tricks he knew. Some were good  tricks,
and some were only frauds; but I have remained faithful to my promise."
     "What did you do with the girl?" asked Glinda; and at  this  question
everyone bent forward and listened eagerly for the reply.
     "I enchanted her," answered Mombi.
     "In what way?"
     "I transformed her into - into - "
     "Into what?" demanded Glinda, as the Witch hesitated.
     "Into a boy!" said Mombi, in a low tone."
     A boy!" echoed every voice; and then, because they knew that this old
woman had reared Tip from childhood, all eyes were turned to where the boy
stood.
     "Yes," said the old Witch, nodding her head; "that  is  the  Princess
Ozma - the child brought to me  by  the  Wizard  who  stole  her  father's
throne. That is the rightful ruler of the Emerald City!" and  she  pointed
her long bony finger straight at the boy.
     "I!" cried Tip, in amazement. "Why, I'm no Princess Ozma - I'm not  a
girl!"
     Glinda smiled, and going to Tip she took his small brown hand  within
her dainty white one.
     "You are not a girl  just  now"  said  she,  gently,  "because  Mombi
transformed you into a boy. But you were born a girl, and also a Princess;
so you must resume your proper form, that you  may  become  Queen  of  the
Emerald City."
     "Oh, let Jinjur be the Queen!" exclaimed Tip, ready to cry.  "I  want
to stay a boy, and travel with the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, and  the
WoggleBug, and Jack - yes! and my friend the Saw-Horse - and the  Gump!  I
don't want to be a girl!"
     "Never mind, old chap," said the Tin Woodman, soothingly;  "it  don't
hurt to be a girl, I'm told; and we will all remain your faithful  friends
just the same. And, to be honest with you, I've  always  considered  girls
nicer than boys."
     "They're just as nice, anyway,"  added  the  Scarecrow,  patting  Tip
affectionately upon the head.
     "And they are equally good students," proclaimed the  Woggle-Bug.  "I
should like to become your tutor, when you are  transformed  into  a  girl
again."
     "But - see here!" said Jack Pumpkinhead, with a gasp: "if you  become
a girl, you can't be my dear father any more!"
     "No," answered Tip, laughing in spite of his anxiety.  "and  I  shall
not be sorry to escape the relationship." Then he added, hesitatingly,  as
he turned to Glinda: "I might try it for awhile,-just to see how it seems,
you know. But if I don't like being a girl you must promise to  change  me
into a boy again."
     "Really," said the Sorceress, "that is beyond my magic. I never  deal
in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable  sorceress
likes to make things appear to be what they  are  not.  Only  unscrupulous
witches use the art, and therefore I must ask Mombi to effect your release
from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. It will be  the  last
opportunity she will have to practice magic."
     Now that the truth about Princes Ozma had been discovered, Mombi  did
not care what became of Tip; but she feared Glinda's anger,  and  the  boy
generously promised to provide for Mombi in her old age if he  became  the
ruler  of  the  Emerald  City.  So  the  Witch  consented  to  effect  the
transformation, and preparations for the event were at once made.
     Glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of  the
tent. It was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk,  and
from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink  gossamer,  completely
concealing the interior of the couch.
     The first act of the Witch was to make the boy drink a  potion  which
quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. Then the Tin Woodman and
the Woggle-Bug bore him gently to the couch,  placed  him  upon  the  soft
cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to  shut  him  from  all  earthly
view.
     The Witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire  of  dried
herbs, which she drew from her bosom. When the blaze shot  up  and  burned
clearly old Mombi scattered a handful of magical  powder  over  the  fire,
which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent  with
its fragrance and forcing the Saw-Horse to sneeze - although he  had  been
warned to keep quiet.
     Then, while the others watched  her  curiously,  the  hag  chanted  a
rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean  body
seven times back and forth over the fire. And now the  incantation  seemed
complete, for the Witch stood upright and cried the one word "Yeowa!" in a
loud voice.
     The vapor floated away; the atmosphere became, clear again;  a  whiff
of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch  trembled
slightly, as if stirred from within.
     Glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. Then  she
bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the
form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful  as  a  May  morning.  Her  eyes
sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline.  All
adown her back floated tresses of  ruddy  gold,  with  a  slender  jeweled
circlet confining them at the brow. Her  robes  of  silken  gauze  floated
around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet.
     At this exquisite vision Tip's old comrades stared in wonder for  the
space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest  admiration
of the lovely Princess Ozma. The girl herself cast one look into  Glinda's
bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then  turned
upon the others. Speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said:
     "I hope none of you will care less for me than you  did  before.  I'm
just the same Tip, you know; only - only - "
     "Only you're different!" said the Pumpkinhead; and  everyone  thought
it was the wisest speech he had ever made.



26. The Riches of Content

     When the wonderful tidings reached the ears of  Queen  Jinjur  -  how
Mombi the Witch had been captured; how she  had  confessed  her  crime  to
Glinda; and how the long-lost Princess Ozma had been discovered in no less
a personage than the boy Tip - she wept real tears of grief and despair.
     "To think," she moaned, "that after having ruled as Queen, and  lived
in a palace, I must go back to scrubbing floors and churning butter again!
It is too horrible to think of! I will never consent!"
     So when her soldiers, who spent most of their time  making  fudge  in
the palace kitchens, counseled Jinjur to resist,  she  listened  to  their
foolish prattle and sent a sharp defiance  to  Glinda  the  Good  and  the
Princess Ozma. The result was a declaration of war, and the very next  day
Glinda marched upon the  Emerald  City  with  pennants  flying  and  bands
playing, and a forest of shining spears, sparkling  brightly  beneath  the
sun's rays.
     But when it came to the walls this brave assembly made a sudden halt;
for Jinjur had closed and barred every  gateway,  and  the  walls  of  the
Emerald City were builded high and thick with many blocks of green marble.
Finding her advance thus baffled, Glinda bent her brows in  deep  thought,
while the Woggle-Bug said, in his most positive tone:
     "We must lay siege to the city, and starve it into submission. It  is
the only thing we can do."
     "Not so," answered the Scarecrow. "We still have the  Gump,  and  the
Gump can still fly"
     The Sorceress turned quickly at this speech, and her face now wore  a
bright smile.
     "You are right," she exclaimed, "and  certainly  have  reason  to  be
proud of your brains. Let us go to the Gump at once!"
     So they passed through the ranks of the army until they came  to  the
place, near the Scarecrow's tent, where the Gump lay. Glinda and  Princess
Ozma mounted first, and sat upon the sofas. Then  the  Scarecrow  and  his
friends climbed aboard, and still there was room for a Captain  and  three
soldiers, which Glinda considered sufficient for a guard.
     Now, at a word from the Princess, the queer Thing they had called the
Gump flopped its palm-leaf wings and rose into the air, carrying the party
of adventurers high above the walls. They hovered  over  the  palace,  and
soon perceived Jinjur reclining in a hammock in the courtyard,  where  she
was comfortably reading a novel  with  a  green  cover  and  eating  green
chocolates, confident that the walls would protect her from  her  enemies.
Obeying a quick command, the Gump alighted safely in this very  courtyard,
and before Jinjur had time to do more than scream, the Captain  and  three
soldiers leaped out and made the former Queen a prisoner,  locking  strong
chains upon both her wrists.
     That act really ended the war; for the Army of  Revolt  submitted  as
soon as they knew Jinjur to be a  captive,  and  the  Captain  marched  in
safety through the streets and up to the gates  of  the  city,  which  she
threw wide open. Then the bands played their  most  stirring  music  while
Glinda's army marched into the city, and heralds proclaimed  the  conquest
of the audacious Jinjur and the accession of the beautiful  Princess  Ozma
to the throne of her royal ancestors.
     At once the men of the Emerald City cast off their aprons. And it  is
said that the women were so tired eating of their husbands'  cooking  that
they all hailed the conquest of Jinjur  with  Joy.  Certain  it  is  that,
rushing one and all to the  kitchens  of  their  houses,  the  good  wives
prepared so  delicious  a  feast  for  the  weary  men  that  harmony  was
immediately restored in every family.
     Ozma's first act was to oblige the Army of Revolt to  return  to  her
every emerald or other gem stolen from the public streets  and  buildings;
and so great was the number of precious stones picked from their  settings
by these vain girls, that every one of the royal jewelers worked  steadily
for more than a month to replace them in their settings.
     Meanwhile the Army of Revolt was disbanded and the girls sent home to
their mothers. On promise of good behavior Jinjur was likewise released.
     Ozma made the loveliest Queen the Emerald City had ever  known;  and,
although she was so young and inexperienced, she  ruled  her  people  with
wisdom and Justice. For Glinda gave her good advice on all occasions;  and
the WoggleBug, who was appointed to the important post of Public Educator,
was quite helpful to Ozma when her royal duties grew perplexing.
     The girl, in her gratitude to the Gump for its services, offered  the
creature any reward it might name.
     "Then," replied the Gump, "please take me to pieces. I did  not  wish
to be brought to life,  and  I  am  greatly  ashamed  of  my  conglomerate
personality. Once I was a monarch of  the  forest,  as  my  antlers  fully
prove; but now, in my present upholstered condition  of  servitude,  I  am
compelled to fly through the air - my legs being of no use to me whatever.
Therefore I beg to be dispersed."
     So Ozma ordered the Gump taken apart. The  antlered  head  was  again
hung over the mantle-piece in the hall, and  the  sofas  were  untied  and
placed in the reception parlors. The broom  tail  resumed  its  accustomed
duties in the  kitchen,  and  finally,  the  Scarecrow  replaced  all  the
clotheslines and ropes on the pegs from which he had  taken  them  on  the
eventful day when the Thing was constructed.
     You might think that was the end of the Gump; and so  it  was,  as  a
flyingmachine. But the  head  over  the  mantle-piece  continued  to  talk
whenever it took a notion to do so, and it frequently startled,  with  its
abrupt questions, the people who waited in the hall for an  audience  with
the Queen.
     The Saw-Horse, being Ozma's personal  property,  was  tenderly  cared
for; and often she rode the  queer  creature  along  the  streets  of  the
Emerald City. She had its wooden legs shod with gold, to  keep  them  from
wearing out, and the tinkle of these golden shoes upon the pavement always
filled the Queen's subjects with awe as they thought upon this evidence of
her magical powers.
     "The Wonderful Wizard was never so  wonderful  as  Queen  Ozma,"  the
people said to one another, in whispers; "for he claimed to do many things
he could not do; whereas our new Queen does many things no one would  ever
expect her to accomplish."
     Jack Pumpkinhead remained with Ozma to the end of his  days;  and  he
did not spoil as soon as he had feared, although  he  always  remained  as
stupid as ever. The  Woggle-Bug  tried  to  teach  him  several  arts  and
sciences; but Jack was so poor a student that any attempt to  educate  him
was soon abandoned.
     After Glinda's army had marched back home, and peace was restored  to
the Emerald City, the Tin Woodman announced his intention to return to his
own Kingdom of the Winkies.
     "It isn't a very big Kingdom," said he to Ozma, "but  for  that  very
reason it is easier to rule; and I have called myself an Emperor because I
am an Absolute Monarch, and no one interferes in any way with  my  conduct
of public or personal affairs. When I get home I shall have a new coat  of
nickel plate; for I have become somewhat marred and scratched lately;  and
then I shall be glad to have you pay me a visit."
     "Thank you," replied Ozma. "Some day I may accept the invitation. But
what is to become of the Scarecrow?"
     "I shall return with my friend the Tin  Woodman,"  said  the  stuffed
one, seriously. "We have decided never to be parted in the future."
     "And I have made the Scarecrow my Royal Treasurer," explained the Tin
Woodman." For it has occurred to me that it is a  good  thing  to  have  a
Royal Treasurer who is made of money. What do you think?"
     "I think," said the little Queen, smiling, "that your friend must  be
the richest man in all the world."
     "I am," returned the Scarecrow. "but not on account of my money.  For
I consider brains far superior to  money,  in  every  way.  You  may  have
noticed that if one  has  money  without  brains,  he  cannot  use  it  to
advantage; but if one has brains without money, they will  enable  him  to
live comfortably to the end of his days."
     "At the same time," declared the Tin Woodman, "you  must  acknowledge
that a good heart is a thing that brains can not create,  and  that  money
can not buy. Perhaps, after all, it is I who am the richest man in all the
world."
     "You are both rich, my friends," said Ozma, gently; "and your  riches
are the only riches worth having - the riches of content!"
Last-modified: Mon, 14 Feb 2000 17:24:10 GMT



