Father Goose: His Book Quarto,
printed in three colors, ornamental boards . . . . . . . Price . . . . . . . $
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The Songs of Father Goose With
music by Alberta N. Hall Quarto, ornamental boards Price . . . . . . . $1.00
GEO. M. HILL CO. Publishers
Folklore, legends,
myths and fairy tales have followed childhood through the ages, for every
healthy youngster has a wholesome and instinctive love for stories fantastic,
marvelous and manifestly unreal. The winged fairies of Grimm and Andersen have
brought more happiness to childish hearts than all other human creations.
Yet the old time fairy
tale, having served for generations, may now be classed as
"historical" in the children’s library; for the time has come for a
series of newer "wonder tales" in which the stereotyped genie, dwarf
and fairy are eliminated, together with all the horrible and blood-curdling
incidents devised by their authors to point a fearsome moral to each tale.
Modern education includes morality; therefore the modern child seeks only
entertainment in its wonder tales and gladly dispenses with all disagreeable
incident.
Having this thought in
mind, the story of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" was written solely to
please children of today. It aspires to being a modernized fairy tale, in which
the wonderment and joy are retained and the heartaches and nightmares are left
out.
CHAPTER I. -- The
Cyclone
CHAPTER II. -- The
Council with the Munchkins
CHAPTER III. -- How
Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow
CHAPTER IV. -- The Road
Through the Forest
CHAPTER V. -- The
Rescue of the Tin Woodman
CHAPTER VI. -- The
Cowardly Lion
CHAPTER VII. -- The
Journey to the Great Oz
CHAPTER VIII. -- The
Deadly Poppy Field
CHAPTER IX. -- The
Queen of the Field Mice
CHAPTER X. -- The
Guardian of the Gates
CHAPTER XI. -- The
Emerald City of Oz
CHAPTER XII. -- The
Search for the Wicked Witch
CHAPTER XIII. -- The
Rescue
CHAPTER XIV. -- The
Winged Monkeys
CHAPTER XV. -- The
Discovery of Oz the Terrible
CHAPTER XVI. -- The
Magic Art of the Great Humbug
CHAPTER XVII. -- How
the Balloon Was Launched
CHAPTER XVIII. -- Away
to the South
CHAPTER IXX. --
Attacked by the Fighting Trees
CHAPTER XX. -- The
Dainty China Country
CHAPTER XXI. -- The
Lion Becomes the King of Beasts
CHAPTER XXII. -- The
Country of the Quadlings
CHAPTER XXIII. --
Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy’s Wish
CHAPTER XXIV. -- Home
Again
This book is dedicated
to my good friend and comrade My Wife
Dorothy lived in the
midst of the great Kansas prairies, with Uncle Henry, who was a farmer, and
Aunt Em, who was the farmer’s wife. Their house was small, for the lumber to
build it had to be carried by wagon many miles. There were four walls, a floor
and a roof, which made one room; and this room contained a rusty looking
cookstove, a cupboard for the dishes, a table, three or four chairs, and the
beds. Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had a big bed in one corner, and Dorothy a little
bed in another corner. There was no garret at all, and no cellar--except a
small hole dug in the ground, called a cyclone cellar, where the family could
go in case one of those great whirlwinds arose, mighty enough to crush any
building in its path. It was reached by a trap door in the middle of the floor,
from which a ladder led down into the small, dark hole.
When Dorothy stood in
the doorway and looked around, she could see nothing but the great gray prairie
on every side. Not a tree nor a house broke the broad sweep of flat country
that reached to the edge of the sky in all directions. The sun had baked the
plowed land into a gray mass, with little cracks running through it. Even the
grass was not green, for the sun had burned the tops of the long blades until
they were the same gray color to be seen everywhere. Once the house had been
painted, but the sun blistered the paint and the rains washed it away, and now
the house was as dull and gray as everything else.
When Aunt Em came there
to live she was a young, pretty wife. The sun and wind had changed her, too.
They had taken the sparkle from her eyes and left them a sober gray; they had
taken the red from her cheeks and lips, and they were gray also. She was thin
and gaunt, and never smiled now. When Dorothy, who was an orphan, first came to
her, Aunt Em had been so startled by the child’s laughter that she would scream
and press her hand upon her heart whenever Dorothy’s merry voice reached her
ears; and she still looked at the little girl with wonder that she could find anything
to laugh at.
Uncle Henry never
laughed. He worked hard from morning till night and did not know what joy was.
He was gray also, from his long beard to his rough boots, and he looked stern
and solemn, and rarely spoke.
It was Toto that made
Dorothy laugh, and saved her from growing as gray as her other surroundings.
Toto was not gray; he was a little black dog, with long silky hair and small
black eyes that twinkled merrily on either side of his funny, wee nose. Toto
played all day long, and Dorothy played with him, and loved him dearly.
Today, however, they
were not playing. Uncle Henry sat upon the doorstep and looked anxiously at the
sky, which was even grayer than usual. Dorothy stood in the door with Toto in
her arms, and looked at the sky too. Aunt Em was washing the dishes.
From the far north they
heard a low wail of the wind, and Uncle Henry and Dorothy could see where the
long grass bowed in waves before the coming storm. There now came a sharp
whistling in the air from the south, and as they turned their eyes that way
they saw ripples in the grass coming from that direction also.
Suddenly Uncle Henry
stood up.
"There’s a cyclone
coming, Em," he called to his wife. "I’ll go look after the
stock." Then he ran toward the sheds where the cows and horses were kept.
Aunt Em dropped her
work and came to the door. One glance told her of the danger close at hand.
"Quick,
Dorothy!" she screamed. "Run for the cellar!"
Toto jumped out of
Dorothy’s arms and hid under the bed, and the girl started to get him. Aunt Em,
badly frightened, threw open the trap door in the floor and climbed down the
ladder into the small, dark hole. Dorothy caught Toto at last and started to
follow her aunt. When she was halfway across the room there came a great shriek
from the wind, and the house shook so hard that she lost her footing and sat
down suddenly upon the floor.
Then a strange thing
happened.
The house whirled
around two or three times and rose slowly through the air. Dorothy felt as if
she were going up in a balloon.
The north and south
winds met where the house stood, and made it the exact center of the cyclone.
In the middle of a cyclone the air is generally still, but the great pressure
of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and higher, until it
was at the very top of the cyclone; and there it remained and was carried miles
and miles away as easily as you could carry a feather.
It was very dark, and
the wind howled horribly around her, but Dorothy found she was riding quite
easily. After the first few whirls around, and one other time when the house
tipped badly, she felt as if she were being rocked gently, like a baby in a
cradle.
Toto did not like it.
He ran about the room, now here, now there, barking loudly; but Dorothy sat
quite still on the floor and waited to see what would happen.
Once Toto got too near
the open trap door, and fell in; and at first the little girl thought she had
lost him. But soon she saw one of his ears sticking up through the hole, for
the strong pressure of the air was keeping him up so that he could not fall.
She crept to the hole, caught Toto by the ear, and dragged him into the room
again, afterward closing the trap door so that no more accidents could happen.
Hour after hour passed
away, and slowly Dorothy got over her fright; but she felt quite lonely, and
the wind shrieked so loudly all about her that she nearly became deaf. At first
she had wondered if she would be dashed to pieces when the house fell again;
but as the hours passed and nothing terrible happened, she stopped worrying and
resolved to wait calmly and see what the future would bring. At last she
crawled over the swaying floor to her bed, and lay down upon it; and Toto
followed and lay down beside her.
In spite of the swaying
of the house and the wailing of the wind, Dorothy soon closed her eyes and fell
fast asleep.
She was awakened by a
shock, so sudden and severe that if Dorothy had not been lying on the soft bed
she might have been hurt. As it was, the jar made her catch her breath and
wonder what had happened; and Toto put his cold little nose into her face and
whined dismally. Dorothy sat up and noticed that the house was not moving; nor
was it dark, for the bright sunshine came in at the window, flooding the little
room. She sprang from her bed and with Toto at her heels ran and opened the
door.
The little girl gave a
cry of amazement and looked about her, her eyes growing bigger and bigger at
the wonderful sights she saw.
The cyclone had set the
house down very gently--for a cyclone--in the midst of a country of marvelous
beauty. There were lovely patches of greensward all about, with stately trees
bearing rich and luscious fruits. Banks of gorgeous flowers were on every hand,
and birds with rare and brilliant plumage sang and fluttered in the trees and
bushes. A little way off was a small brook, rushing and sparkling along between
green banks, and murmuring in a voice very grateful to a little girl who had
lived so long on the dry, gray prairies.
While she stood looking
eagerly at the strange and beautiful sights, she noticed coming toward her a
group of the queerest people she had ever seen. They were not as big as the grown
folk she had always been used to; but neither were they very small. In fact,
they seemed about as tall as Dorothy, who was a well-grown child for her age,
although they were, so far as looks go, many years older.
Three were men and one
a woman, and all were oddly dressed. They wore round hats that rose to a small
point a foot above their heads, with little bells around the brims that tinkled
sweetly as they moved. The hats of the men were blue; the little woman’s hat
was white, and she wore a white gown that hung in pleats from her shoulders.
Over it were sprinkled little stars that glistened in the sun like diamonds.
The men were dressed in blue, of the same shade as their hats, and wore
well-polished boots with a deep roll of blue at the tops. The men, Dorothy
thought, were about as old as Uncle Henry, for two of them had beards. But the
little woman was doubtless much older. Her face was covered with wrinkles, her
hair was nearly white, and she walked rather stiffly.
When these people drew
near the house where Dorothy was standing in the doorway, they paused and
whispered among themselves, as if afraid to come farther. But the little old
woman walked up to Dorothy, made a low bow and said, in a sweet voice:
"You are welcome,
most noble Sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins. We are so grateful to you
for having killed the Wicked Witch of the East, and for setting our people free
from bondage."
Dorothy listened to
this speech with wonder. What could the little woman possibly mean by calling
her a sorceress, and saying she had killed the Wicked Witch of the East?
Dorothy was an innocent, harmless little girl, who had been carried by a
cyclone many miles from home; and she had never killed anything in all her
life.
But the little woman
evidently expected her to answer; so Dorothy said, with hesitation, "You
are very kind, but there must be some mistake. I have not killed
anything."
"Your house did,
anyway," replied the little old woman, with a laugh, "and that is the
same thing. See!" she continued, pointing to the corner of the house.
"There are her two feet, still sticking out from under a block of
wood."
Dorothy looked, and
gave a little cry of fright. There, indeed, just under the corner of the great
beam the house rested on, two feet were sticking out, shod in silver shoes with
pointed toes.
"Oh, dear! Oh,
dear!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together in dismay. "The
house must have fallen on her. Whatever shall we do?"
"There is nothing
to be done," said the little woman calmly.
"But who was
she?" asked Dorothy.
"She was the
Wicked Witch of the East, as I said," answered the little woman. "She
has held all the Munchkins in bondage for many years, making them slave for her
night and day. Now they are all set free, and are grateful to you for the
favor."
"Who are the
Munchkins?" inquired Dorothy.
"They are the
people who live in this land of the East where the Wicked Witch ruled."
"Are you a
Munchkin?" asked Dorothy.
"No, but I am
their friend, although I live in the land of the North. When they saw the Witch
of the East was dead the Munchkins sent a swift messenger to me, and I came at
once. I am the Witch of the North."
"Oh,
gracious!" cried Dorothy. "Are you a real witch?"
"Yes,
indeed," answered the little woman. "But I am a good witch, and the
people love me. I am not as powerful as the Wicked Witch was who ruled here, or
I should have set the people free myself."
"But I thought all
witches were wicked," said the girl, who was half frightened at facing a
real witch. "Oh, no, that is a great mistake. There were only four witches
in all the Land of Oz, and two of them, those who live in the North and the
South, are good witches. I know this is true, for I am one of them myself, and
cannot be mistaken. Those who dwelt in the East and the West were, indeed,
wicked witches; but now that you have killed one of them, there is but one
Wicked Witch in all the Land of Oz--the one who lives in the West."
"But," said
Dorothy, after a moment’s thought, "Aunt Em has told me that the witches
were all dead--years and years ago."
"Who is Aunt
Em?" inquired the little old woman.
"She is my aunt
who lives in Kansas, where I came from."
The Witch of the North
seemed to think for a time, with her head bowed and her eyes upon the ground.
Then she looked up and said, "I do not know where Kansas is, for I have
never heard that country mentioned before. But tell me, is it a civilized
country?"
"Oh, yes,"
replied Dorothy.
"Then that
accounts for it. In the civilized countries I believe there are no witches
left, nor wizards, nor sorceresses, nor magicians. But, you see, the Land of Oz
has never been civilized, for we are cut off from all the rest of the world.
Therefore we still have witches and wizards amongst us."
"Who are the
wizards?" asked Dorothy.
"Oz himself is the
Great Wizard," answered the Witch, sinking her voice to a whisper.
"He is more powerful than all the rest of us together. He lives in the
City of Emeralds."
Dorothy was going to
ask another question, but just then the Munchkins, who had been standing
silently by, gave a loud shout and pointed to the corner of the house where the
Wicked Witch had been lying.
"What is it?"
asked the little old woman, and looked, and began to laugh. The feet of the
dead Witch had disappeared entirely, and nothing was left but the silver shoes.
"She was so
old," explained the Witch of the North, that she dried up quickly in the
sun. That is the end of her. But the silver shoes are yours, and you shall have
them to wear." She reached down and picked up the shoes, and after shaking
the dust out of them handed them to Dorothy.
"The Witch of the
East was proud of those silver shoes," said one of the Munchkins,
"and there is some charm connected with them; but what it is we never
knew."
Dorothy carried the
shoes into the house and placed them on the table. Then she came out again to
the Munchkins and said:
"I am anxious to
get back to my aunt and uncle, for I am sure they will worry about me. Can you
help me find my way?"
The Munchkins and the
Witch first looked at one another, and then at Dorothy, and then shook their
heads.
"At the East, not
far from here," said one, "there is a great desert, and none could
live to cross it."
"It is the same at
the South," said another, "for I have been there and seen it. The
South is the country of the Quadlings."
"I am told,"
said the third man, "that it is the same at the West. And that country,
where the Winkies live, is ruled by the Wicked Witch of the West, who would
make you her slave if you passed her way."
"The North is my
home," said the old lady, "and at its edge is the same great desert
that surrounds this Land of Oz. I’m afraid, my dear, you will have to live with
us."
Dorothy began to sob at
this, for she felt lonely among all these strange people. Her tears seemed to
grieve the kind-hearted Munchkins, for they immediately took out their
handkerchiefs and began to weep also. As for the little old woman, she took off
her cap and balanced the point on the end of her nose, while she counted
"One, two, three" in a solemn voice. At once the cap changed to a
slate, on which was written in big, white chalk marks:
"LET DOROTHY GO TO THE CITY OF EMERALDS" The little old woman took the slate from her
nose, and having read the words on it, asked, "Is your name Dorothy, my
dear?"
"Yes,"
answered the child, looking up and drying her tears.
"Then you must go
to the City of Emeralds. Perhaps Oz will help you."
"Where is this
city?" asked Dorothy.
"It is exactly in
the center of the country, and is ruled by Oz, the Great Wizard I told you
of."
"Is he a good
man?" inquired the girl anxiously.
"He is a good
Wizard. Whether he is a man or not I cannot tell, for I have never seen
him."
"How can I get
there?" asked Dorothy.
"You must walk. It
is a long journey, through a country that is sometimes pleasant and sometimes
dark and terrible. However, I will use all the magic arts I know of to keep you
from harm."
"Won’t you go with
me?" pleaded the girl, who had begun to look upon the little old woman as
her only friend.
"No, I cannot do
that," she replied, "but I will give you my kiss, and no one will
dare injure a person who has been kissed by the Witch of the North."
She came close to
Dorothy and kissed her gently on the forehead. Where her lips touched the girl
they left a round, shining mark, as Dorothy found out soon after.
"The road to the
City of Emeralds is paved with yellow brick," said the Witch, "so you
cannot miss it. When you get to Oz do not be afraid of him, but tell your story
and ask him to help you. Good-bye, my dear."
The three Munchkins
bowed low to her and wished her a pleasant journey, after which they walked
away through the trees. The Witch gave Dorothy a friendly little nod, whirled
around on her left heel three times, and straightway disappeared, much to the
surprise of little Toto, who barked after her loudly enough when she had gone,
because he had been afraid even to growl while she stood by.
But Dorothy, knowing
her to be a witch, had expected her to disappear in just that way, and was not
surprised in the least.
When Dorothy was left
alone she began to feel hungry. So she went to the cupboard and cut herself
some bread, which she spread with butter. She gave some to Toto, and taking a
pail from the shelf she carried it down to the little brook and filled it with
clear, sparkling water. Toto ran over to the trees and began to bark at the
birds sitting there. Dorothy went to get him, and saw such delicious fruit
hanging from the branches that she gathered some of it, finding it just what
she wanted to help out her breakfast.
Then she went back to
the house, and having helped herself and Toto to a good drink of the cool,
clear water, she set about making ready for the journey to the City of
Emeralds.
Dorothy had only one
other dress, but that happened to be clean and was hanging on a peg beside her
bed. It was gingham, with checks of white and blue; and although the blue was
somewhat faded with many washings, it was still a pretty frock. The girl washed
herself carefully, dressed herself in the clean gingham, and tied her pink
sunbonnet on her head. She took a little basket and filled it with bread from
the cupboard, laying a white cloth over the top. Then she looked down at her
feet and noticed how old and worn her shoes were.
"They surely will
never do for a long journey, Toto," she said. And Toto looked up into her
face with his little black eyes and wagged his tail to show he knew what she
meant.
At that moment Dorothy
saw lying on the table the silver shoes that had belonged to the Witch of the
East.
"I wonder if they
will fit me," she said to Toto. "They would be just the thing to take
a long walk in, for they could not wear out."
She took off her old
leather shoes and tried on the silver ones, which fitted her as well as if they
had been made for her.
Finally she picked up
her basket.
"Come along,
Toto," she said. "We will go to the Emerald City and ask the Great Oz
how to get back to Kansas again."
She closed the door,
locked it, and put the key carefully in the pocket of her dress. And so, with
Toto trotting along soberly behind her, she started on her journey.
There were several
roads near by, but it did not take her long to find the one paved with yellow
bricks. Within a short time she was walking briskly toward the Emerald City,
her silver shoes tinkling merrily on the hard, yellow road-bed. The sun shone
bright and the birds sang sweetly, and Dorothy did not feel nearly so bad as
you might think a little girl would who had been suddenly whisked away from her
own country and set down in the midst of a strange land.
She was surprised, as
she walked along, to see how pretty the country was about her. There were neat
fences at the sides of the road, painted a dainty blue color, and beyond them
were fields of grain and vegetables in abundance. Evidently the Munchkins were
good farmers and able to raise large crops. Once in a while she would pass a
house, and the people came out to look at her and bow low as she went by; for
everyone knew she had been the means of destroying the Wicked Witch and setting
them free from bondage. The houses of the Munchkins were odd-looking dwellings,
for each was round, with a big dome for a roof. All were painted blue, for in
this country of the East blue was the favorite color.
Toward evening, when
Dorothy was tired with her long walk and began to wonder where she should pass
the night, she came to a house rather larger than the rest. On the green lawn
before it many men and women were dancing. Five little fiddlers played as
loudly as possible, and the people were laughing and singing, while a big table
near by was loaded with delicious fruits and nuts, pies and cakes, and many
other good things to eat.
The people greeted
Dorothy kindly, and invited her to supper and to pass the night with them; for
this was the home of one of the richest Munchkins in the land, and his friends
were gathered with him to celebrate their freedom from the bondage of the
Wicked Witch.
Dorothy ate a hearty
supper and was waited upon by the rich Munchkin himself, whose name was Boq.
Then she sat upon a settee and watched the people dance.
When Boq saw her silver
shoes he said, "You must be a great sorceress."
"Why?" asked
the girl.
"Because you wear
silver shoes and have killed the Wicked Witch. Besides, you have white in your
frock, and only witches and sorceresses wear white."
"My dress is blue
and white checked," said Dorothy, smoothing out the wrinkles in it.
"It is kind of you
to wear that," said Boq. "Blue is the color of the Munchkins, and
white is the witch color. So we know you are a friendly witch."
Dorothy did not know
what to say to this, for all the people seemed to think her a witch, and she
knew very well she was only an ordinary little girl who had come by the chance
of a cyclone into a strange land.
When she had tired
watching the dancing, Boq led her into the house, where he gave her a room with
a pretty bed in it. The sheets were made of blue cloth, and Dorothy slept
soundly in them till morning, with Toto curled up on the blue rug beside her.
She ate a hearty
breakfast, and watched a wee Munchkin baby, who played with Toto and pulled his
tail and crowed and laughed in a way that greatly amused Dorothy. Toto was a
fine curiosity to all the people, for they had never seen a dog before.
"How far is it to
the Emerald City?" the girl asked.
"I do not
know," answered Boq gravely, "for I have never been there. It is
better for people to keep away from Oz, unless they have business with him. But
it is a long way to the Emerald City, and it will take you many days. The
country here is rich and pleasant, but you must pass through rough and
dangerous places before you reach the end of your journey."
This worried Dorothy a
little, but she knew that only the Great Oz could help her get to Kansas again,
so she bravely resolved not to turn back.
She bade her friends
good-bye, and again started along the road of yellow brick. When she had gone
several miles she thought she would stop to rest, and so climbed to the top of
the fence beside the road and sat down. There was a great cornfield beyond the fence,
and not far away she saw a Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep the birds
from the ripe corn.
Dorothy leaned her chin
upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully at the Scarecrow. Its head was a small
sack stuffed with straw, with eyes, nose, and mouth painted on it to represent
a face. An old, pointed blue hat, that had belonged to some Munchkin, was
perched on his head, and the rest of the figure was a blue suit of clothes,
worn and faded, which had also been stuffed with straw. On the feet were some
old boots with blue tops, such as every man wore in this country, and the
figure was raised above the stalks of corn by means of the pole stuck up its
back.
While Dorothy was
looking earnestly into the queer, painted face of the Scarecrow, she was surprised
to see one of the eyes slowly wink at her. She thought she must have been
mistaken at first, for none of the scarecrows in Kansas ever wink; but
presently the figure nodded its head to her in a friendly way. Then she climbed
down from the fence and walked up to it, while Toto ran around the pole and
barked.
"Good day,"
said the Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.
"Did you
speak?" asked the girl, in wonder.
"Certainly,"
answered the Scarecrow. "How do you do?"
"I’m pretty well,
thank you," replied Dorothy politely. "How do you do?"
"I’m not feeling
well," said the Scarecrow, with a smile, "for it is very tedious
being perched up here night and day to scare away crows."
"Can’t you get
down?" asked Dorothy.
"No, for this pole
is stuck up my back. If you will please take away the pole I shall be greatly
obliged to you."
Dorothy reached up both
arms and lifted the figure off the pole, for, being stuffed with straw, it was
quite light.
"Thank you very
much," said the Scarecrow, when he had been set down on the ground.
"I feel like a new man."
Dorothy was puzzled at
this, for it sounded queer to hear a stuffed man speak, and to see him bow and
walk along beside her.
"Who are
you?" asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched himself and yawned.
"And where are you going?"
"My name is
Dorothy," said the girl, "and I am going to the Emerald City, to ask
the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas."
"Where is the
Emerald City?" he inquired. "And who is Oz?"
"Why, don’t you
know?" she returned, in surprise.
"No, indeed. I don’t
know anything. You see, I am stuffed, so I have no brains at all," he
answered sadly.
"Oh," said
Dorothy, "I’m awfully sorry for you."
"Do you
think," he asked, "if I go to the Emerald City with you, that Oz
would give me some brains?"
"I cannot
tell," she returned, "but you may come with me, if you like. If Oz
will not give you any brains you will be no worse off than you are now."
"That is
true," said the Scarecrow. "You see," he continued confidentially,
"I don’t mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed, because I cannot
get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes or sticks a pin into me, it doesn’t
matter, for I can’t feel it. But I do not want people to call me a fool, and if
my head stays stuffed with straw instead of with brains, as yours is, how am I
ever to know anything?"
"I understand how
you feel," said the little girl, who was truly sorry for him. "If you
will come with me I’ll ask Oz to do all he can for you."
"Thank you,"
he answered gratefully.
They walked back to the
road. Dorothy helped him over the fence, and they started along the path of
yellow brick for the Emerald City.
Toto did not like this
addition to the party at first. He smelled around the stuffed man as if he
suspected there might be a nest of rats in the straw, and he often growled in
an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow.
"Don’t mind
Toto," said Dorothy to her new friend. "He never bites."
"Oh, I’m not
afraid," replied the Scarecrow. "He can’t hurt the straw. Do let me
carry that basket for you. I shall not mind it, for I can’t get tired. I’ll
tell you a secret," he continued, as he walked along. "There is only
one thing in the world I am afraid of."
"What is
that?" asked Dorothy; "the Munchkin farmer who made you?"
"No,"
answered the Scarecrow; "it’s a lighted match."
After a few hours the
road began to be rough, and the walking grew so difficult that the Scarecrow
often stumbled over the yellow bricks, which were here very uneven. Sometimes,
indeed, they were broken or missing altogether, leaving holes that Toto jumped
across and Dorothy walked around. As for the Scarecrow, having no brains, he
walked straight ahead, and so stepped into the holes and fell at full length on
the hard bricks. It never hurt him, however, and Dorothy would pick him up and
set him upon his feet again, while he joined her in laughing merrily at his own
mishap.
The farms were not
nearly so well cared for here as they were farther back. There were fewer
houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther they went the more dismal and
lonesome the country became.
At noon they sat down
by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy opened her basket and got out
some bread. She offered a piece to the Scarecrow, but he refused.
"I am never
hungry," he said, "and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my mouth is
only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat, the straw I am
stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the shape of my head."
Dorothy saw at once
that this was true, so she only nodded and went on eating her bread.
"Tell me something
about yourself and the country you came from," said the Scarecrow, when
she had finished her dinner. So she told him all about Kansas, and how gray
everything was there, and how the cyclone had carried her to this queer Land of
Oz.
The Scarecrow listened
carefully, and said, "I cannot understand why you should wish to leave
this beautiful country and go back to the dry, gray place you call
Kansas."
"That is because
you have no brains" answered the girl. "No matter how dreary and gray
our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would rather live there than in any
other country, be it ever so beautiful. There is no place like home."
The Scarecrow sighed.
"Of course I
cannot understand it," he said. "If your heads were stuffed with
straw, like mine, you would probably all live in the beautiful places, and then
Kansas would have no people at all. It is fortunate for Kansas that you have
brains."
"Won’t you tell me
a story, while we are resting?" asked the child.
The Scarecrow looked at
her reproachfully, and answered:
"My life has been
so short that I really know nothing whatever. I was only made day before
yesterday. What happened in the world before that time is all unknown to me.
Luckily, when the farmer made my head, one of the first things he did was to
paint my ears, so that I heard what was going on. There was another Munchkin
with him, and the first thing I heard was the farmer saying, ‘How do you like
those ears?’
"‘They aren’t
straight,’" answered the other.
"‘Never mind,’"
said the farmer. "‘They are ears just the same,’" which was true
enough.
"‘Now I’ll make
the eyes,’" said the farmer. So he painted my right eye, and as soon as it
was finished I found myself looking at him and at everything around me with a
great deal of curiosity, for this was my first glimpse of the world.
"‘That’s a rather
pretty eye,’" remarked the Munchkin who was watching the farmer. "‘Blue
paint is just the color for eyes.’
"‘I think I’ll
make the other a little bigger,’" said the farmer. And when the second eye
was done I could see much better than before. Then he made my nose and my
mouth. But I did not speak, because at that time I didn’t know what a mouth was
for. I had the fun of watching them make my body and my arms and legs; and when
they fastened on my head, at last, I felt very proud, for I thought I was just
as good a man as anyone.
"‘This fellow will
scare the crows fast enough,’ said the farmer. ‘He looks just like a man.’
"‘Why, he is a
man,’ said the other, and I quite agreed with him. The farmer carried me under
his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a tall stick, where you found me. He
and his friend soon after walked away and left me alone.
"I did not like to
be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them. But my feet would not
touch the ground, and I was forced to stay on that pole. It was a lonely life
to lead, for I had nothing to think of, having been made such a little while
before. Many crows and other birds flew into the cornfield, but as soon as they
saw me they flew away again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this pleased me and
made me feel that I was quite an important person. By and by an old crow flew
near me, and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder and
said:
"‘I wonder if that
farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any crow of sense could see
that you are only stuffed with straw.’ Then he hopped down at my feet and ate
all the corn he wanted. The other birds, seeing he was not harmed by me, came
to eat the corn too, so in a short time there was a great flock of them about
me.
"I felt sad at
this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow after all; but the old crow
comforted me, saying, ‘If you only had brains in your head you would be as good
a man as any of them, and a better man than some of them. Brains are the only
things worth having in this world, no matter whether one is a crow or a man.’
"After the crows
had gone I thought this over, and decided I would try hard to get some brains.
By good luck you came along and pulled me off the stake, and from what you say
I am sure the Great Oz will give me brains as soon as we get to the Emerald
City."
"I hope so,"
said Dorothy earnestly, "since you seem anxious to have them."
"Oh, yes; I am
anxious," returned the Scarecrow. "It is such an uncomfortable
feeling to know one is a fool."
"Well," said
the girl, "let us go." And she handed the basket to the Scarecrow.
There were no fences at
all by the roadside now, and the land was rough and untilled. Toward evening
they came to a great forest, where the trees grew so big and close together
that their branches met over the road of yellow brick. It was almost dark under
the trees, for the branches shut out the daylight; but the travelers did not
stop, and went on into the forest.
"If this road goes
in, it must come out," said the Scarecrow, "and as the Emerald City
is at the other end of the road, we must go wherever it leads us."
"Anyone would know
that," said Dorothy.
"Certainly; that
is why I know it," returned the Scarecrow. "If it required brains to
figure it out, I never should have said it."
After an hour or so the
light faded away, and they found themselves stumbling along in the darkness.
Dorothy could not see at all, but Toto could, for some dogs see very well in
the dark; and the Scarecrow declared he could see as well as by day. So she
took hold of his arm and managed to get along fairly well.
"If you see any
house, or any place where we can pass the night," she said, "you must
tell me; for it is very uncomfortable walking in the dark."
Soon after the
Scarecrow stopped.
"I see a little
cottage at the right of us," he said, "built of logs and branches.
Shall we go there?"
"Yes,
indeed," answered the child. "I am all tired out."
So the Scarecrow led
her through the trees until they reached the cottage, and Dorothy entered and
found a bed of dried leaves in one corner. She lay down at once, and with Toto
beside her soon fell into a sound sleep. The Scarecrow, who was never tired,
stood up in another corner and waited patiently until morning came.
When Dorothy awoke the
sun was shining through the trees and Toto had long been out chasing birds
around him and squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. Scarecrow, still
standing patiently in his corner, waiting for her.
"We must go and
search for water," she said to him.
"Why do you want
water?" he asked.
"To wash my face
clean after the dust of the road, and to drink, so the dry bread will not stick
in my throat."
"It must be
inconvenient to be made of flesh," said the Scarecrow thoughtfully,
"for you must sleep, and eat and drink. However, you have brains, and it
is worth a lot of bother to be able to think properly."
They left the cottage
and walked through the trees until they found a little spring of clear water,
where Dorothy drank and bathed and ate her breakfast. She saw there was not
much bread left in the basket, and the girl was thankful the Scarecrow did not
have to eat anything, for there was scarcely enough for herself and Toto for
the day.
When she had finished
her meal, and was about to go back to the road of yellow brick, she was
startled to hear a deep groan near by.
"What was
that?" she asked timidly.
"I cannot imagine,"
replied the Scarecrow; "but we can go and see."
Just then another groan
reached their ears, and the sound seemed to come from behind them. They turned
and walked through the forest a few steps, when Dorothy discovered something
shining in a ray of sunshine that fell between the trees. She ran to the place
and then stopped short, with a little cry of surprise.
One of the big trees
had been partly chopped through, and standing beside it, with an uplifted axe
in his hands, was a man made entirely of tin. His head and arms and legs were
jointed upon his body, but he stood perfectly motionless, as if he could not
stir at all.
Dorothy looked at him
in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while Toto barked sharply and made a
snap at the tin legs, which hurt his teeth.
"Did you
groan?" asked Dorothy.
"Yes,"
answered the tin man, "I did. I’ve been groaning for more than a year, and
no one has ever heard me before or come to help me."
"What can I do for
you?" she inquired softly, for she was moved by the sad voice in which the
man spoke.
"Get an oil-can
and oil my joints," he answered. "They are rusted so badly that I
cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled I shall soon be all right again.
You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage."
Dorothy at once ran
back to the cottage and found the oil-can, and then she returned and asked
anxiously, "Where are your joints?"
"Oil my neck,
first," replied the Tin Woodman. So she oiled it, and as it was quite
badly rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin head and moved it gently from
side to side until it worked freely, and then the man could turn it himself.
"Now oil the
joints in my arms," he said. And Dorothy oiled them and the Scarecrow bent
them carefully until they were quite free from rust and as good as new.
The Tin Woodman gave a
sigh of satisfaction and lowered his axe, which he leaned against the tree.
"This is a great
comfort," he said. "I have been holding that axe in the air ever
since I rusted, and I’m glad to be able to put it down at last. Now, if you
will oil the joints of my legs, I shall be all right once more."
So they oiled his legs
until he could move them freely; and he thanked them again and again for his
release, for he seemed a very polite creature, and very grateful.
"I might have
stood there always if you had not come along," he said; "so you have
certainly saved my life. How did you happen to be here?"
"We are on our way
to the Emerald City to see the Great Oz," she answered, "and we
stopped at your cottage to pass the night."
"Why do you wish
to see Oz?" he asked.
"I want him to
send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants him to put a few brains into
his head," she replied.
The Tin Woodman
appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said:
"Do you suppose Oz
could give me a heart?"
"Why, I guess
so," Dorothy answered. "It would be as easy as to give the Scarecrow
brains."
"True," the
Tin Woodman returned. "So, if you will allow me to join your party, I will
also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz to help me."
"Come along,"
said the Scarecrow heartily, and Dorothy added that she would be pleased to
have his company. So the Tin Woodman shouldered his axe and they all passed through
the forest until they came to the road that was paved with yellow brick.
The Tin Woodman had
asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in her basket. "For," he said,
"if I should get caught in the rain, and rust again, I would need the
oil-can badly."
It was a bit of good
luck to have their new comrade join the party, for soon after they had begun
their journey again they came to a place where the trees and branches grew so
thick over the road that the travelers could not pass. But the Tin Woodman set
to work with his axe and chopped so well that soon he cleared a passage for the
entire party.
Dorothy was thinking so
earnestly as they walked along that she did not notice when the Scarecrow
stumbled into a hole and rolled over to the side of the road. Indeed he was
obliged to call to her to help him up again.
"Why didn’t you
walk around the hole?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"I don’t know
enough," replied the Scarecrow cheerfully. "My head is stuffed with
straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask him for some
brains."
"Oh, I see,"
said the Tin Woodman. "But, after all, brains are not the best things in
the world."
"Have you
any?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"No, my head is
quite empty," answered the Woodman. "But once I had brains, and a
heart also; so, having tried them both, I should much rather have a
heart."
"And why is
that?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I will tell you
my story, and then you will know."
So, while they were
walking through the forest, the Tin Woodman told the following story:
"I was born the
son of a woodman who chopped down trees in the forest and sold the wood for a
living. When I grew up, I too became a woodchopper, and after my father died I
took care of my old mother as long as she lived. Then I made up my mind that
instead of living alone I would marry, so that I might not become lonely.
"There was one of
the Munchkin girls who was so beautiful that I soon grew to love her with all
my heart. She, on her part, promised to marry me as soon as I could earn enough
money to build a better house for her; so I set to work harder than ever. But
the girl lived with an old woman who did not want her to marry anyone, for she
was so lazy she wished the girl to remain with her and do the cooking and the
housework. So the old woman went to the Wicked Witch of the East, and promised
her two sheep and a cow if she would prevent the marriage. Thereupon the Wicked
Witch enchanted my axe, and when I was chopping away at my best one day, for I
was anxious to get the new house and my wife as soon as possible, the axe
slipped all at once and cut off my left leg.
"This at first
seemed a great misfortune, for I knew a one-legged man could not do very well
as a wood-chopper. So I went to a tinsmith and had him make me a new leg out of
tin. The leg worked very well, once I was used to it. But my action angered the
Wicked Witch of the East, for she had promised the old woman I should not marry
the pretty Munchkin girl. When I began chopping again, my axe slipped and cut
off my right leg. Again I went to the tinsmith, and again he made me a leg out
of tin. After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after the other; but,
nothing daunted, I had them replaced with tin ones. The Wicked Witch then made
the axe slip and cut off my head, and at first I thought that was the end of
me. But the tinsmith happened to come along, and he made me a new head out of
tin.
"I thought I had
beaten the Wicked Witch then, and I worked harder than ever; but I little knew
how cruel my enemy could be. She thought of a new way to kill my love for the
beautiful Munchkin maiden, and made my axe slip again, so that it cut right
through my body, splitting me into two halves. Once more the tinsmith came to
my help and made me a body of tin, fastening my tin arms and legs and head to
it, by means of joints, so that I could move around as well as ever. But, alas!
I had now no heart, so that I lost all my love for the Munchkin girl, and did
not care whether I married her or not. I suppose she is still living with the
old woman, waiting for me to come after her.
"My body shone so
brightly in the sun that I felt very proud of it and it did not matter now if
my axe slipped, for it could not cut me. There was only one danger--that my
joints would rust; but I kept an oil-can in my cottage and took care to oil
myself whenever I needed it. However, there came a day when I forgot to do
this, and, being caught in a rainstorm, before I thought of the danger my
joints had rusted, and I was left to stand in the woods until you came to help
me. It was a terrible thing to undergo, but during the year I stood there I had
time to think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my heart.
While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one can love who
has not a heart, and so I am resolved to ask Oz to give me one. If he does, I
will go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her."
Both Dorothy and the
Scarecrow had been greatly interested in the story of the Tin Woodman, and now
they knew why he was so anxious to get a new heart.
"All the
same," said the Scarecrow, "I shall ask for brains instead of a
heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a heart if he had one."
"I shall take the
heart," returned the Tin Woodman; "for brains do not make one happy,
and happiness is the best thing in the world."
Dorothy did not say
anything, for she was puzzled to know which of her two friends was right, and
she decided if she could only get back to Kansas and Aunt Em, it did not matter
so much whether the Woodman had no brains and the Scarecrow no heart, or each
got what he wanted.
What worried her most
was that the bread was nearly gone, and another meal for herself and Toto would
empty the basket. To be sure neither the Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate
anything, but she was not made of tin nor straw, and could not live unless she
was fed.
All this time Dorothy
and her companions had been walking through the thick woods. The road was still
paved with yellow brick, but these were much covered by dried branches and dead
leaves from the trees, and the walking was not at all good.
There were few birds in
this part of the forest, for birds love the open country where there is plenty
of sunshine. But now and then there came a deep growl from some wild animal
hidden among the trees. These sounds made the little girl’s heart beat fast,
for she did not know what made them; but Toto knew, and he walked close to
Dorothy’s side, and did not even bark in return.
"How long will it
be," the child asked of the Tin Woodman, "before we are out of the
forest?"
"I cannot
tell," was the answer, "for I have never been to the Emerald City.
But my father went there once, when I was a boy, and he said it was a long
journey through a dangerous country, although nearer to the city where Oz
dwells the country is beautiful. But I am not afraid so long as I have my
oil-can, and nothing can hurt the Scarecrow, while you bear upon your forehead
the mark of the Good Witch’s kiss, and that will protect you from harm."
"But Toto!"
said the girl anxiously. "What will protect him?"
"We must protect
him ourselves if he is in danger," replied the Tin Woodman.
Just as he spoke there
came from the forest a terrible roar, and the next moment a great Lion bounded
into the road. With one blow of his paw he sent the Scarecrow spinning over and
over to the edge of the road, and then he struck at the Tin Woodman with his
sharp claws. But, to the Lion’s surprise, he could make no impression on the
tin, although the Woodman fell over in the road and lay still.
Little Toto, now that
he had an enemy to face, ran barking toward the Lion, and the great beast had
opened his mouth to bite the dog, when Dorothy, fearing Toto would be killed,
and heedless of danger, rushed forward and slapped the Lion upon his nose as
hard as she could, while she cried out:
"Don’t you dare to
bite Toto! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a big beast like you, to bite a
poor little dog!"
"I didn’t bite
him," said the Lion, as he rubbed his nose with his paw where Dorothy had
hit it.
"No, but you tried
to," she retorted. "You are nothing but a big coward."
"I know it,"
said the Lion, hanging his head in shame. "I’ve always known it. But how
can I help it?"
"I don’t know, I’m
sure. To think of your striking a stuffed man, like the poor Scarecrow!"
"Is he
stuffed?" asked the Lion in surprise, as he watched her pick up the
Scarecrow and set him upon his feet, while she patted him into shape again.
"Of course he’s
stuffed," replied Dorothy, who was still angry.
"That’s why he
went over so easily," remarked the Lion. "It astonished me to see him
whirl around so. Is the other one stuffed also?"
"No," said
Dorothy, "he’s made of tin." And she helped the Woodman up again.
"That’s why he
nearly blunted my claws," said the Lion. "When they scratched against
the tin it made a cold shiver run down my back. What is that little animal you
are so tender of?"
"He is my dog,
Toto," answered Dorothy.
"Is he made of
tin, or stuffed?" asked the Lion.
"Neither. He’s
a--a--a meat dog," said the girl.
"Oh! He’s a
curious animal and seems remarkably small, now that I look at him. No one would
think of biting such a little thing, except a coward like me," continued
the Lion sadly.
"What makes you a
coward?" asked Dorothy, looking at the great beast in wonder, for he was
as big as a small horse.
"It’s a
mystery," replied the Lion. "I suppose I was born that way. All the
other animals in the forest naturally expect me to be brave, for the Lion is
everywhere thought to be the King of Beasts. I learned that if I roared very
loudly every living thing was frightened and got out of my way. Whenever I’ve
met a man I’ve been awfully scared; but I just roared at him, and he has always
run away as fast as he could go. If the elephants and the tigers and the bears
had ever tried to fight me, I should have run myself--I’m such a coward; but
just as soon as they hear me roar they all try to get away from me, and of
course I let them go."
"But that isn’t
right. The King of Beasts shouldn’t be a coward," said the Scarecrow.
"I know it,"
returned the Lion, wiping a tear from his eye with the tip of his tail.
"It is my great sorrow, and makes my life very unhappy. But whenever there
is danger, my heart begins to beat fast."
"Perhaps you have
heart disease," said the Tin Woodman.
"It may be,"
said the Lion.
"If you
have," continued the Tin Woodman, "you ought to be glad, for it
proves you have a heart. For my part, I have no heart; so I cannot have heart
disease."
"Perhaps,"
said the Lion thoughtfully, "if I had no heart I should not be a
coward."
"Have you
brains?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I suppose so. I’ve
never looked to see," replied the Lion.
"I am going to the
Great Oz to ask him to give me some," remarked the Scarecrow, "for my
head is stuffed with straw."
"And I am going to
ask him to give me a heart," said the Woodman.
"And I am going to
ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansas," added Dorothy.
"Do you think Oz
could give me courage?" asked the Cowardly Lion.
"Just as easily as
he could give me brains," said the Scarecrow.
"Or give me a
heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"Or send me back
to Kansas," said Dorothy.
"Then, if you don’t
mind, I’ll go with you," said the Lion, "for my life is simply
unbearable without a bit of courage."
"You will be very
welcome," answered Dorothy, "for you will help to keep away the other
wild beasts. It seems to me they must be more cowardly than you are if they
allow you to scare them so easily."
"They really
are," said the Lion, "but that doesn’t make me any braver, and as
long as I know myself to be a coward I shall be unhappy."
So once more the little
company set off upon the journey, the Lion walking with stately strides at
Dorothy’s side. Toto did not approve this new comrade at first, for he could
not forget how nearly he had been crushed between the Lion’s great jaws. But
after a time he became more at ease, and presently Toto and the Cowardly Lion
had grown to be good friends.
During the rest of that
day there was no other adventure to mar the peace of their journey. Once,
indeed, the Tin Woodman stepped upon a beetle that was crawling along the road,
and killed the poor little thing. This made the Tin Woodman very unhappy, for
he was always careful not to hurt any living creature; and as he walked along
he wept several tears of sorrow and regret. These tears ran slowly down his
face and over the hinges of his jaw, and there they rusted. When Dorothy
presently asked him a question the Tin Woodman could not open his mouth, for
his jaws were tightly rusted together. He became greatly frightened at this and
made many motions to Dorothy to relieve him, but she could not understand. The
Lion was also puzzled to know what was wrong. But the Scarecrow seized the
oil-can from Dorothy’s basket and oiled the Woodman’s jaws, so that after a few
moments he could talk as well as before.
"This will serve
me a lesson," said he, "to look where I step. For if I should kill
another bug or beetle I should surely cry again, and crying rusts my jaws so
that I cannot speak."
Thereafter he walked
very carefully, with his eyes on the road, and when he saw a tiny ant toiling
by he would step over it, so as not to harm it. The Tin Woodman knew very well
he had no heart, and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind
to anything.
"You people with
hearts," he said, "have something to guide you, and need never do
wrong; but I have no heart, and so I must be very careful. When Oz gives me a
heart of course I needn’t mind so much."
They were obliged to
camp out that night under a large tree in the forest, for there were no houses
near. The tree made a good, thick covering to protect them from the dew, and
the Tin Woodman chopped a great pile of wood with his axe and Dorothy built a
splendid fire that warmed her and made her feel less lonely. She and Toto ate
the last of their bread, and now she did not know what they would do for
breakfast.
"If you
wish," said the Lion, "I will go into the forest and kill a deer for
you. You can roast it by the fire, since your tastes are so peculiar that you
prefer cooked food, and then you will have a very good breakfast."
"Don’t! Please don’t,"
begged the Tin Woodman. "I should certainly weep if you killed a poor
deer, and then my jaws would rust again."
But the Lion went away
into the forest and found his own supper, and no one ever knew what it was, for
he didn’t mention it. And the Scarecrow found a tree full of nuts and filled
Dorothy’s basket with them, so that she would not be hungry for a long time.
She thought this was very kind and thoughtful of the Scarecrow, but she laughed
heartily at the awkward way in which the poor creature picked up the nuts. His
padded hands were so clumsy and the nuts were so small that he dropped almost
as many as he put in the basket. But the Scarecrow did not mind how long it
took him to fill the basket, for it enabled him to keep away from the fire, as
he feared a spark might get into his straw and burn him up. So he kept a good
distance away from the flames, and only came near to cover Dorothy with dry
leaves when she lay down to sleep. These kept her very snug and warm, and she
slept soundly until morning.
When it was daylight,
the girl bathed her face in a little rippling brook, and soon after they all
started toward the Emerald City.
This was to be an
eventful day for the travelers. They had hardly been walking an hour when they
saw before them a great ditch that crossed the road and divided the forest as
far as they could see on either side. It was a very wide ditch, and when they
crept up to the edge and looked into it they could see it was also very deep,
and there were many big, jagged rocks at the bottom. The sides were so steep
that none of them could climb down, and for a moment it seemed that their
journey must end.
"What shall we
do?" asked Dorothy despairingly.
"I haven’t the
faintest idea," said the Tin Woodman, and the Lion shook his shaggy mane
and looked thoughtful.
But the Scarecrow said,
"We cannot fly, that is certain. Neither can we climb down into this great
ditch. Therefore, if we cannot jump over it, we must stop where we are."
"I think I could
jump over it," said the Cowardly Lion, after measuring the distance
carefully in his mind.
"Then we are all right,"
answered the Scarecrow, "for you can carry us all over on your back, one
at a time."
"Well, I’ll try
it," said the Lion. "Who will go first?"
"I will,"
declared the Scarecrow, "for, if you found that you could not jump over
the gulf, Dorothy would be killed, or the Tin Woodman badly dented on the rocks
below. But if I am on your back it will not matter so much, for the fall would
not hurt me at all."
"I am terribly
afraid of falling, myself," said the Cowardly Lion, "but I suppose
there is nothing to do but try it. So get on my back and we will make the
attempt."
The Scarecrow sat upon
the Lion’s back, and the big beast walked to the edge of the gulf and crouched
down.
"Why don’t you run
and jump?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Because that isn’t
the way we Lions do these things," he replied. Then giving a great spring,
he shot through the air and landed safely on the other side. They were all
greatly pleased to see how easily he did it, and after the Scarecrow had got
down from his back the Lion sprang across the ditch again.
Dorothy thought she
would go next; so she took Toto in her arms and climbed on the Lion’s back,
holding tightly to his mane with one hand. The next moment it seemed as if she
were flying through the air; and then, before she had time to think about it,
she was safe on the other side. The Lion went back a third time and got the Tin
Woodman, and then they all sat down for a few moments to give the beast a
chance to rest, for his great leaps had made his breath short, and he panted
like a big dog that has been running too long.
They found the forest
very thick on this side, and it looked dark and gloomy. After the Lion had
rested they started along the road of yellow brick, silently wondering, each in
his own mind, if ever they would come to the end of the woods and reach the
bright sunshine again. To add to their discomfort, they soon heard strange
noises in the depths of the forest, and the Lion whispered to them that it was
in this part of the country that the Kalidahs lived.
"What are the
Kalidahs?" asked the girl.
"They are
monstrous beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers," replied
the Lion, "and with claws so long and sharp that they could tear me in two
as easily as I could kill Toto. I’m terribly afraid of the Kalidahs."
"I’m not surprised
that you are," returned Dorothy. "They must be dreadful beasts."
The Lion was about to
reply when suddenly they came to another gulf across the road. But this one was
so broad and deep that the Lion knew at once he could not leap across it.
So they sat down to
consider what they should do, and after serious thought the Scarecrow said:
"Here is a great
tree, standing close to the ditch. If the Tin Woodman can chop it down, so that
it will fall to the other side, we can walk across it easily."
"That is a
first-rate idea," said the Lion. "One would almost suspect you had
brains in your head, instead of straw."
The Woodman set to work
at once, and so sharp was his axe that the tree was soon chopped nearly through.
Then the Lion put his strong front legs against the tree and pushed with all
his might, and slowly the big tree tipped and fell with a crash across the
ditch, with its top branches on the other side.
They had just started
to cross this queer bridge when a sharp growl made them all look up, and to
their horror they saw running toward them two great beasts with bodies like
bears and heads like tigers.
"They are the
Kalidahs!" said the Cowardly Lion, beginning to tremble.
"Quick!"
cried the Scarecrow. "Let us cross over."
So Dorothy went first,
holding Toto in her arms, the Tin Woodman followed, and the Scarecrow came
next. The Lion, although he was certainly afraid, turned to face the Kalidahs,
and then he gave so loud and terrible a roar that Dorothy screamed and the
Scarecrow fell over backward, while even the fierce beasts stopped short and
looked at him in surprise.
But, seeing they were
bigger than the Lion, and remembering that there were two of them and only one
of him, the Kalidahs again rushed forward, and the Lion crossed over the tree
and turned to see what they would do next. Without stopping an instant the
fierce beasts also began to cross the tree. And the Lion said to Dorothy:
"We are lost, for
they will surely tear us to pieces with their sharp claws. But stand close
behind me, and I will fight them as long as I am alive."
"Wait a
minute!" called the Scarecrow. He had been thinking what was best to be
done, and now he asked the Woodman to chop away the end of the tree that rested
on their side of the ditch. The Tin Woodman began to use his axe at once, and,
just as the two Kalidahs were nearly across, the tree fell with a crash into
the gulf, carrying the ugly, snarling brutes with it, and both were dashed to
pieces on the sharp rocks at the bottom.
"Well," said
the Cowardly Lion, drawing a long breath of relief, "I see we are going to
live a little while longer, and I am glad of it, for it must be a very
uncomfortable thing not to be alive. Those creatures frightened me so badly
that my heart is beating yet."
"Ah," said
the Tin Woodman sadly, "I wish I had a heart to beat."
This adventure made the
travelers more anxious than ever to get out of the forest, and they walked so
fast that Dorothy became tired, and had to ride on the Lion’s back. To their
great joy the trees became thinner the farther they advanced, and in the
afternoon they suddenly came upon a broad river, flowing swiftly just before
them. On the other side of the water they could see the road of yellow brick
running through a beautiful country, with green meadows dotted with bright
flowers and all the road bordered with trees hanging full of delicious fruits.
They were greatly pleased to see this delightful country before them.
"How shall we
cross the river?" asked Dorothy.
"That is easily
done," replied the Scarecrow. "The Tin Woodman must build us a raft,
so we can float to the other side."
So the Woodman took his
axe and began to chop down small trees to make a raft, and while he was busy at
this the Scarecrow found on the riverbank a tree full of fine fruit. This
pleased Dorothy, who had eaten nothing but nuts all day, and she made a hearty
meal of the ripe fruit.
But it takes time to
make a raft, even when one is as industrious and untiring as the Tin Woodman,
and when night came the work was not done. So they found a cozy place under the
trees where they slept well until the morning; and Dorothy dreamed of the Emerald
City, and of the good Wizard Oz, who would soon send her back to her own home
again.
Our little party of
travelers awakened the next morning refreshed and full of hope, and Dorothy
breakfasted like a princess off peaches and plums from the trees beside the
river. Behind them was the dark forest they had passed safely through, although
they had suffered many discouragements; but before them was a lovely, sunny
country that seemed to beckon them on to the Emerald City.
To be sure, the broad
river now cut them off from this beautiful land. But the raft was nearly done,
and after the Tin Woodman had cut a few more logs and fastened them together
with wooden pins, they were ready to start. Dorothy sat down in the middle of
the raft and held Toto in her arms. When the Cowardly Lion stepped upon the
raft it tipped badly, for he was big and heavy; but the Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman stood upon the other end to steady it, and they had long poles in their
hands to push the raft through the water.
They got along quite
well at first, but when they reached the middle of the river the swift current
swept the raft downstream, farther and farther away from the road of yellow
brick. And the water grew so deep that the long poles would not touch the
bottom.
"This is
bad," said the Tin Woodman, "for if we cannot get to the land we
shall be carried into the country of the Wicked Witch of the West, and she will
enchant us and make us her slaves."
"And then I should
get no brains," said the Scarecrow.
"And I should get
no courage," said the Cowardly Lion.
"And I should get
no heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"And I should
never get back to Kansas," said Dorothy.
"We must certainly
get to the Emerald City if we can," the Scarecrow continued, and he pushed
so hard on his long pole that it stuck fast in the mud at the bottom of the
river. Then, before he could pull it out again--or let go--the raft was swept
away, and the poor Scarecrow left clinging to the pole in the middle of the
river.
"Good-bye!"
he called after them, and they were very sorry to leave him. Indeed, the Tin
Woodman began to cry, but fortunately remembered that he might rust, and so
dried his tears on Dorothy’s apron.
Of course this was a
bad thing for the Scarecrow.
"I am now worse
off than when I first met Dorothy," he thought. "Then, I was stuck on
a pole in a cornfield, where I could make-believe scare the crows, at any rate.
But surely there is no use for a Scarecrow stuck on a pole in the middle of a
river. I am afraid I shall never have any brains, after all!"
Down the stream the
raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far behind. Then the Lion said:
"Something must be
done to save us. I think I can swim to the shore and pull the raft after me, if
you will only hold fast to the tip of my tail."
So he sprang into the
water, and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold of his tail. Then the Lion began to
swim with all his might toward the shore. It was hard work, although he was so
big; but by and by they were drawn out of the current, and then Dorothy took
the Tin Woodman’s long pole and helped push the raft to the land.
They were all tired out
when they reached the shore at last and stepped off upon the pretty green
grass, and they also knew that the stream had carried them a long way past the
road of yellow brick that led to the Emerald City.
"What shall we do
now?" asked the Tin Woodman, as the Lion lay down on the grass to let the
sun dry him.
"We must get back
to the road, in some way," said Dorothy.
"The best plan
will be to walk along the riverbank until we come to the road again,"
remarked the Lion.
So, when they were
rested, Dorothy picked up her basket and they started along the grassy bank, to
the road from which the river had carried them. It was a lovely country, with
plenty of flowers and fruit trees and sunshine to cheer them, and had they not
felt so sorry for the poor Scarecrow, they could have been very happy.
They walked along as
fast as they could, Dorothy only stopping once to pick a beautiful flower; and
after a time the Tin Woodman cried out: "Look!"
Then they all looked at
the river and saw the Scarecrow perched upon his pole in the middle of the
water, looking very lonely and sad.
"What can we do to
save him?" asked Dorothy.
The Lion and the
Woodman both shook their heads, for they did not know. So they sat down upon
the bank and gazed wistfully at the Scarecrow until a Stork flew by, who, upon
seeing them, stopped to rest at the water’s edge.
"Who are you and
where are you going?" asked the Stork.
"I am
Dorothy," answered the girl, "and these are my friends, the Tin
Woodman and the Cowardly Lion; and we are going to the Emerald City."
"This isn’t the
road," said the Stork, as she twisted her long neck and looked sharply at
the queer party.
"I know it,"
returned Dorothy, "but we have lost the Scarecrow, and are wondering how
we shall get him again."
"Where is
he?" asked the Stork.
"Over there in the
river," answered the little girl.
"If he wasn’t so
big and heavy I would get him for you," remarked the Stork.
"He isn’t heavy a
bit," said Dorothy eagerly, "for he is stuffed with straw; and if you
will bring him back to us, we shall thank you ever and ever so much."
"Well, I’ll
try," said the Stork, "but if I find he is too heavy to carry I shall
have to drop him in the river again."
So the big bird flew
into the air and over the water till she came to where the Scarecrow was
perched upon his pole. Then the Stork with her great claws grabbed the
Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up into the air and back to the bank,
where Dorothy and the Lion and the Tin Woodman and Toto were sitting.
When the Scarecrow
found himself among his friends again, he was so happy that he hugged them all,
even the Lion and Toto; and as they walked along he sang
"Tol-de-ri-de-oh!" at every step, he felt so gay.
"I was afraid I
should have to stay in the river forever," he said, "but the kind
Stork saved me, and if I ever get any brains I shall find the Stork again and
do her some kindness in return."
"That’s all
right," said the Stork, who was flying along beside them. "I always
like to help anyone in trouble. But I must go now, for my babies are waiting in
the nest for me. I hope you will find the Emerald City and that Oz will help
you."
"Thank you,"
replied Dorothy, and then the kind Stork flew into the air and was soon out of
sight.
They walked along
listening to the singing of the brightly colored birds and looking at the lovely
flowers which now became so thick that the ground was carpeted with them. There
were big yellow and white and blue and purple blossoms, besides great clusters
of scarlet poppies, which were so brilliant in color they almost dazzled
Dorothy’s eyes.
"Aren’t they
beautiful?" the girl asked, as she breathed in the spicy scent of the
bright flowers.
"I suppose
so," answered the Scarecrow. "When I have brains, I shall probably
like them better."
"If I only had a
heart, I should love them," added the Tin Woodman.
"I always did like
flowers," said the Lion. "They of seem so helpless and frail. But
there are none in the forest so bright as these."
They now came upon more
and more of the big scarlet poppies, and fewer and fewer of the other flowers;
and soon they found themselves in the midst of a great meadow of poppies. Now
it is well known that when there are many of these flowers together their odor
is so powerful that anyone who breathes it falls asleep, and if the sleeper is
not carried away from the scent of the flowers, he sleeps on and on forever.
But Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get away from the bright red
flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her eyes grew heavy and she
felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.
But the Tin Woodman
would not let her do this.
"We must hurry and
get back to the road of yellow brick before dark," he said; and the
Scarecrow agreed with him. So they kept walking until Dorothy could stand no
longer. Her eyes closed in spite of herself and she forgot where she was and
fell among the poppies, fast asleep.
"What shall we
do?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"If we leave her
here she will die," said the Lion. "The smell of the flowers is
killing us all. I myself can scarcely keep my eyes open, and the dog is asleep
already."
It was true; Toto had
fallen down beside his little mistress. But the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman,
not being made of flesh, were not troubled by the scent of the flowers.
"Run fast,"
said the Scarecrow to the Lion, "and get out of this deadly flower bed as
soon as you can. We will bring the little girl with us, but if you should fall
asleep you are too big to be carried."
So the Lion aroused
himself and bounded forward as fast as he could go. In a moment he was out of
sight.
"Let us make a
chair with our hands and carry her," said the Scarecrow. So they picked up
Toto and put the dog in Dorothy’s lap, and then they made a chair with their
hands for the seat and their arms for the arms and carried the sleeping girl
between them through the flowers.
On and on they walked,
and it seemed that the great carpet of deadly flowers that surrounded them
would never end. They followed the bend of the river, and at last came upon their
friend the Lion, lying fast asleep among the poppies. The flowers had been too
strong for the huge beast and he had given up at last, and fallen only a short
distance from the end of the poppy bed, where the sweet grass spread in
beautiful green fields before them.
"We can do nothing
for him," said the Tin Woodman, sadly; "for he is much too heavy to
lift. We must leave him here to sleep on forever, and perhaps he will dream
that he has found courage at last."
"I’m sorry,"
said the Scarecrow. "The Lion was a very good comrade for one so cowardly.
But let us go on."
They carried the
sleeping girl to a pretty spot beside the river, far enough from the poppy
field to prevent her breathing any more of the poison of the flowers, and here
they laid her gently on the soft grass and waited for the fresh breeze to waken
her.
"We cannot be far
from the road of yellow brick, now," remarked the Scarecrow, as he stood
beside the girl, "for we have come nearly as far as the river carried us
away."
The Tin Woodman was
about to reply when he heard a low growl, and turning his head (which worked
beautifully on hinges) he saw a strange beast come bounding over the grass
toward them. It was, indeed, a great yellow Wildcat, and the Woodman thought it
must be chasing something, for its ears were lying close to its head and its
mouth was wide open, showing two rows of ugly teeth, while its red eyes glowed
like balls of fire. As it came nearer the Tin Woodman saw that running before
the beast was a little gray field mouse, and although he had no heart he knew
it was wrong for the Wildcat to try to kill such a pretty, harmless creature.
So the Woodman raised
his axe, and as the Wildcat ran by he gave it a quick blow that cut the beast’s
head clean off from its body, and it rolled over at his feet in two pieces.
The field mouse, now
that it was freed from its enemy, stopped short; and coming slowly up to the
Woodman it said, in a squeaky little voice:
"Oh, thank you!
Thank you ever so much for saving my life."
"Don’t speak of
it, I beg of you," replied the Woodman. "I have no heart, you know,
so I am careful to help all those who may need a friend, even if it happens to
be only a mouse."
"Only a
mouse!" cried the little animal, indignantly. "Why, I am a Queen--the
Queen of all the Field Mice!"
"Oh, indeed,"
said the Woodman, making a bow.
"Therefore you
have done a great deed, as well as a brave one, in saving my life," added
the Queen.
At that moment several
mice were seen running up as fast as their little legs could carry them, and
when they saw their Queen they exclaimed:
"Oh, your Majesty,
we thought you would be killed! How did you manage to escape the great
Wildcat?" and they all bowed so low to the little Queen that they almost
stood upon their heads.
"This funny tin
man," she answered, "killed the Wildcat and saved my life. So
hereafter you must all serve him, and obey his slightest wish."
"We will!"
cried all the mice, in a shrill chorus. And then they scampered in all
directions, for Toto had awakened from his sleep, and seeing all these mice
around him he gave one bark of delight and jumped right into the middle of the
group. Toto had always loved to chase mice when he lived in Kansas, and he saw
no harm in it.
But the Tin Woodman
caught the dog in his arms and held him tight, while he called to the mice,
"Come back! Come back! Toto shall not hurt you."
At this the Queen of
the Mice stuck her head out from underneath a clump of grass and asked, in a
timid voice, "Are you sure he will not bite us?"
"I will not let
him," said the Woodman; "so do not be afraid."
One by one the mice
came creeping back, and Toto did not bark again, although he tried to get out
of the Woodman’s arms, and would have bitten him had he not known very well he
was made of tin. Finally one of the biggest mice spoke.
"Is there anything
we can do," it asked, "to repay you for saving the life of our
Queen?"
"Nothing that I
know of," answered the Woodman; but the Scarecrow, who had been trying to
think, but could not because his head was stuffed with straw, said, quickly,
"Oh, yes; you can save our friend, the Cowardly Lion, who is asleep in the
poppy bed."
"A Lion!"
cried the little Queen. "Why, he would eat us all up."
"Oh, no,"
declared the Scarecrow; "this Lion is a coward."
"Really?"
asked the Mouse.
"He says so
himself," answered the Scarecrow, "and he would never hurt anyone who
is our friend. If you will help us to save him I promise that he shall treat
you all with kindness."
"Very well,"
said the Queen, "we trust you. But what shall we do?"
"Are there many of
these mice which call you Queen and are willing to obey you?"
"Oh, yes; there
are thousands," she replied.
"Then send for
them all to come here as soon as possible, and let each one bring a long piece
of string."
The Queen turned to the
mice that attended her and told them to go at once and get all her people. As
soon as they heard her orders they ran away in every direction as fast as
possible.
"Now," said
the Scarecrow to the Tin Woodman, "you must go to those trees by the
riverside and make a truck that will carry the Lion."
So the Woodman went at
once to the trees and began to work; and he soon made a truck out of the limbs
of trees, from which he chopped away all the leaves and branches. He fastened
it together with wooden pegs and made the four wheels out of short pieces of a
big tree trunk. So fast and so well did he work that by the time the mice began
to arrive the truck was all ready for them.
They came from all
directions, and there were thousands of them: big mice and little mice and
middle-sized mice; and each one brought a piece of string in his mouth. It was
about this time that Dorothy woke from her long sleep and opened her eyes. She
was greatly astonished to find herself lying upon the grass, with thousands of
mice standing around and looking at her timidly. But the Scarecrow told her
about everything, and turning to the dignified little Mouse, he said:
"Permit me to
introduce to you her Majesty, the Queen."
Dorothy nodded gravely
and the Queen made a curtsy, after which she became quite friendly with the
little girl.
The Scarecrow and the
Woodman now began to fasten the mice to the truck, using the strings they had
brought. One end of a string was tied around the neck of each mouse and the
other end to the truck. Of course the truck was a thousand times bigger than
any of the mice who were to draw it; but when all the mice had been harnessed,
they were able to pull it quite easily. Even the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman
could sit on it, and were drawn swiftly by their queer little horses to the
place where the Lion lay asleep.
After a great deal of
hard work, for the Lion was heavy, they managed to get him up on the truck.
Then the Queen hurriedly gave her people the order to start, for she feared if
the mice stayed among the poppies too long they also would fall asleep.
At first the little
creatures, many though they were, could hardly stir the heavily loaded truck;
but the Woodman and the Scarecrow both pushed from behind, and they got along
better. Soon they rolled the Lion out of the poppy bed to the green fields,
where he could breathe the sweet, fresh air again, instead of the poisonous
scent of the flowers.
Dorothy came to meet
them and thanked the little mice warmly for saving her companion from death.
She had grown so fond of the big Lion she was glad he had been rescued.
Then the mice were
unharnessed from the truck and scampered away through the grass to their homes.
The Queen of the Mice was the last to leave.
"If ever you need
us again," she said, "come out into the field and call, and we shall
hear you and come to your assistance. Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!"
they all answered, and away the Queen ran, while Dorothy held Toto tightly lest
he should run after her and frighten her.
After this they sat
down beside the Lion until he should awaken; and the Scarecrow brought Dorothy
some fruit from a tree near by, which she ate for her dinner.
It was some time before
the Cowardly Lion awakened, for he had lain among the poppies a long while,
breathing in their deadly fragrance; but when he did open his eyes and roll off
the truck he was very glad to find himself still alive.
"I ran as fast as
I could," he said, sitting down and yawning, "but the flowers were
too strong for me. How did you get me out?"
Then they told him of
the field mice, and how they had generously saved him from death; and the
Cowardly Lion laughed, and said:
"I have always
thought myself very big and terrible; yet such little things as flowers came
near to killing me, and such small animals as mice have saved my life. How
strange it all is! But, comrades, what shall we do now?"
"We must journey
on until we find the road of yellow brick again," said Dorothy, "and
then we can keep on to the Emerald City."
So, the Lion being
fully refreshed, and feeling quite himself again, they all started upon the
journey, greatly enjoying the walk through the soft, fresh grass; and it was
not long before they reached the road of yellow brick and turned again toward
the Emerald City where the Great Oz dwelt.
The road was smooth and
well paved, now, and the country about was beautiful, so that the travelers
rejoiced in leaving the forest far behind, and with it the many dangers they
had met in its gloomy shades. Once more they could see fences built beside the
road; but these were painted green, and when they came to a small house, in
which a farmer evidently lived, that also was painted green. They passed by
several of these houses during the afternoon, and sometimes people came to the
doors and looked at them as if they would like to ask questions; but no one
came near them nor spoke to them because of the great Lion, of which they were
very much afraid. The people were all dressed in clothing of a lovely
emerald-green color and wore peaked hats like those of the Munchkins.
"This must be the
Land of Oz," said Dorothy, "and we are surely getting near the
Emerald City."
"Yes,"
answered the Scarecrow. "Everything is green here, while in the country of
the Munchkins blue was the favorite color. But the people do not seem to be as
friendly as the Munchkins, and I’m afraid we shall be unable to find a place to
pass the night."
"I should like
something to eat besides fruit," said the girl, "and I’m sure Toto is
nearly starved. Let us stop at the next house and talk to the people."
So, when they came to a
good-sized farmhouse, Dorothy walked boldly up to the door and knocked.
A woman opened it just
far enough to look out, and said, "What do you want, child, and why is
that great Lion with you?"
"We wish to pass
the night with you, if you will allow us," answered Dorothy; "and the
Lion is my friend and comrade, and would not hurt you for the world."
"Is he tame?"
asked the woman, opening the door a little wider.
"Oh, yes,"
said the girl, "and he is a great coward, too. He will be more afraid of
you than you are of him."
"Well," said
the woman, after thinking it over and taking another peep at the Lion, "if
that is the case you may come in, and I will give you some supper and a place
to sleep."
So they all entered the
house, where there were, besides the woman, two children and a man. The man had
hurt his leg, and was lying on the couch in a corner. They seemed greatly
surprised to see so strange a company, and while the woman was busy laying the
table the man asked:
"Where are you all
going?"
"To the Emerald
City," said Dorothy, "to see the Great Oz."
"Oh, indeed!"
exclaimed the man. "Are you sure that Oz will see you?"
"Why not?"
she replied.
"Why, it is said
that he never lets anyone come into his presence. I have been to the Emerald
City many times, and it is a beautiful and wonderful place; but I have never
been permitted to see the Great Oz, nor do I know of any living person who has
seen him."
"Does he never go
out?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Never. He sits
day after day in the great Throne Room of his Palace, and even those who wait
upon him do not see him face to face."
"What is he
like?" asked the girl.
"That is hard to
tell," said the man thoughtfully. "You see, Oz is a Great Wizard, and
can take on any form he wishes. So that some say he looks like a bird; and some
say he looks like an elephant; and some say he looks like a cat. To others he
appears as a beautiful fairy, or a brownie, or in any other form that pleases
him. But who the real Oz is, when he is in his own form, no living person can
tell."
"That is very
strange," said Dorothy, "but we must try, in some way, to see him, or
we shall have made our journey for nothing."
"Why do you wish
to see the terrible Oz?" asked the man.
"I want him to
give me some brains," said the Scarecrow eagerly.
"Oh, Oz could do
that easily enough," declared the man. "He has more brains than he
needs."
"And I want him to
give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"That will not
trouble him," continued the man, "for Oz has a large collection of
hearts, of all sizes and shapes."
"And I want him to
give me courage," said the Cowardly Lion.
"Oz keeps a great
pot of courage in his Throne Room," said the man, "which he has
covered with a golden plate, to keep it from running over. He will be glad to
give you some."
"And I want him to
send me back to Kansas," said Dorothy.
"Where is
Kansas?" asked the man, with surprise.
"I don’t
know," replied Dorothy sorrowfully, "but it is my home, and I’m sure
it’s somewhere."
"Very likely.
Well, Oz can do anything; so I suppose he will find Kansas for you. But first
you must get to see him, and that will be a hard task; for the Great Wizard
does not like to see anyone, and he usually has his own way. But what do YOU
want?" he continued, speaking to Toto. Toto only wagged his tail; for,
strange to say, he could not speak.
The woman now called to
them that supper was ready, so they gathered around the table and Dorothy ate
some delicious porridge and a dish of scrambled eggs and a plate of nice white
bread, and enjoyed her meal. The Lion ate some of the porridge, but did not
care for it, saying it was made from oats and oats were food for horses, not
for lions. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman ate nothing at all. Toto ate a
little of everything, and was glad to get a good supper again.
The woman now gave
Dorothy a bed to sleep in, and Toto lay down beside her, while the Lion guarded
the door of her room so she might not be disturbed. The Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman stood up in a corner and kept quiet all night, although of course they
could not sleep.
The next morning, as
soon as the sun was up, they started on their way, and soon saw a beautiful
green glow in the sky just before them.
"That must be the
Emerald City," said Dorothy.
As they walked on, the
green glow became brighter and brighter, and it seemed that at last they were
nearing the end of their travels. Yet it was afternoon before they came to the
great wall that surrounded the City. It was high and thick and of a bright
green color.
In front of them, and
at the end of the road of yellow brick, was a big gate, all studded with
emeralds that glittered so in the sun that even the painted eyes of the
Scarecrow were dazzled by their brilliancy.
There was a bell beside
the gate, and Dorothy pushed the button and heard a silvery tinkle sound
within. Then the big gate swung slowly open, and they all passed through and
found themselves in a high arched room, the walls of which glistened with
countless emeralds.
Before them stood a
little man about the same size as the Munchkins. He was clothed all in green,
from his head to his feet, and even his skin was of a greenish tint. At his
side was a large green box.
When he saw Dorothy and
her companions the man asked, "What do you wish in the Emerald City?"
"We came here to
see the Great Oz," said Dorothy.
The man was so
surprised at this answer that he sat down to think it over.
"It has been many
years since anyone asked me to see Oz," he said, shaking his head in
perplexity. "He is powerful and terrible, and if you come on an idle or
foolish errand to bother the wise reflections of the Great Wizard, he might be
angry and destroy you all in an instant."
"But it is not a
foolish errand, nor an idle one," replied the Scarecrow; "it is
important. And we have been told that Oz is a good Wizard."
"So he is,"
said the green man, "and he rules the Emerald City wisely and well. But to
those who are not honest, or who approach him from curiosity, he is most
terrible, and few have ever dared ask to see his face. I am the Guardian of the
Gates, and since you demand to see the Great Oz I must take you to his Palace.
But first you must put on the spectacles."
"Why?" asked
Dorothy.
"Because if you
did not wear spectacles the brightness and glory of the Emerald City would
blind you. Even those who live in the City must wear spectacles night and day.
They are all locked on, for Oz so ordered it when the City was first built, and
I have the only key that will unlock them."
He opened the big box,
and Dorothy saw that it was filled with spectacles of every size and shape. All
of them had green glasses in them. The Guardian of the Gates found a pair that
would just fit Dorothy and put them over her eyes. There were two golden bands
fastened to them that passed around the back of her head, where they were
locked together by a little key that was at the end of a chain the Guardian of
the Gates wore around his neck. When they were on, Dorothy could not take them
off had she wished, but of course she did not wish to be blinded by the glare
of the Emerald City, so she said nothing.
Then the green man fitted
spectacles for the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion, and even on
little Toto; and all were locked fast with the key.
Then the Guardian of
the Gates put on his own glasses and told them he was ready to show them to the
Palace. Taking a big golden key from a peg on the wall, he opened another gate,
and they all followed him through the portal into the streets of the Emerald
City.
Even with eyes
protected by the green spectacles, Dorothy and her friends were at first
dazzled by the brilliancy of the wonderful City. The streets were lined with
beautiful houses all built of green marble and studded everywhere with
sparkling emeralds. They walked over a pavement of the same green marble, and
where the blocks were joined together were rows of emeralds, set closely, and
glittering in the brightness of the sun. The window panes were of green glass;
even the sky above the City had a green tint, and the rays of the sun were
green.
There were many people,
men, women, and children, walking about, and these were all dressed in green
clothes and had greenish skins. They looked at Dorothy and her strangely
assorted company with wondering eyes, and the children all ran away and hid
behind their mothers when they saw the Lion; but no one spoke to them. Many
shops stood in the street, and Dorothy saw that everything in them was green.
Green candy and green pop corn were offered for sale, as well as green shoes,
green hats, and green clothes of all sorts. At one place a man was selling
green lemonade, and when the children bought it Dorothy could see that they
paid for it with green pennies.
There seemed to be no
horses nor animals of any kind; the men carried things around in little green
carts, which they pushed before them. Everyone seemed happy and contented and
prosperous.
The Guardian of the
Gates led them through the streets until they came to a big building, exactly
in the middle of the City, which was the Palace of Oz, the Great Wizard. There
was a soldier before the door, dressed in a green uniform and wearing a long
green beard.
"Here are
strangers," said the Guardian of the Gates to him, "and they demand
to see the Great Oz."
"Step
inside," answered the soldier, "and I will carry your message to
him."
So they passed through
the Palace Gates and were led into a big room with a green carpet and lovely
green furniture set with emeralds. The soldier made them all wipe their feet
upon a green mat before entering this room, and when they were seated he said politely:
"Please make
yourselves comfortable while I go to the door of the Throne Room and tell Oz
you are here."
They had to wait a long
time before the soldier returned. When, at last, he came back, Dorothy asked:
"Have you seen
Oz?"
"Oh, no," returned
the soldier; "I have never seen him. But I spoke to him as he sat behind
his screen and gave him your message. He said he will grant you an audience, if
you so desire; but each one of you must enter his presence alone, and he will
admit but one each day. Therefore, as you must remain in the Palace for several
days, I will have you shown to rooms where you may rest in comfort after your
journey."
"Thank you,"
replied the girl; "that is very kind of Oz."
The soldier now blew
upon a green whistle, and at once a young girl, dressed in a pretty green silk
gown, entered the room. She had lovely green hair and green eyes, and she bowed
low before Dorothy as she said, "Follow me and I will show you your
room."
So Dorothy said
good-bye to all her friends except Toto, and taking the dog in her arms
followed the green girl through seven passages and up three flights of stairs
until they came to a room at the front of the Palace. It was the sweetest
little room in the world, with a soft comfortable bed that had sheets of green
silk and a green velvet counterpane. There was a tiny fountain in the middle of
the room, that shot a spray of green perfume into the air, to fall back into a
beautifully carved green marble basin. Beautiful green flowers stood in the windows,
and there was a shelf with a row of little green books. When Dorothy had time
to open these books she found them full of queer green pictures that made her
laugh, they were so funny.
In a wardrobe were many
green dresses, made of silk and satin and velvet; and all of them fitted
Dorothy exactly.
"Make yourself
perfectly at home," said the green girl, "and if you wish for
anything ring the bell. Oz will send for you tomorrow morning."
She left Dorothy alone
and went back to the others. These she also led to rooms, and each one of them
found himself lodged in a very pleasant part of the Palace. Of course this
politeness was wasted on the Scarecrow; for when he found himself alone in his room
he stood stupidly in one spot, just within the doorway, to wait till morning.
It would not rest him to lie down, and he could not close his eyes; so he
remained all night staring at a little spider which was weaving its web in a
corner of the room, just as if it were not one of the most wonderful rooms in
the world. The Tin Woodman lay down on his bed from force of habit, for he
remembered when he was made of flesh; but not being able to sleep, he passed
the night moving his joints up and down to make sure they kept in good working
order. The Lion would have preferred a bed of dried leaves in the forest, and
did not like being shut up in a room; but he had too much sense to let this
worry him, so he sprang upon the bed and rolled himself up like a cat and
purred himself asleep in a minute.
The next morning, after
breakfast, the green maiden came to fetch Dorothy, and she dressed her in one
of the prettiest gowns, made of green brocaded satin. Dorothy put on a green
silk apron and tied a green ribbon around Toto’s neck, and they started for the
Throne Room of the Great Oz.
First they came to a
great hall in which were many ladies and gentlemen of the court, all dressed in
rich costumes. These people had nothing to do but talk to each other, but they
always came to wait outside the Throne Room every morning, although they were
never permitted to see Oz. As Dorothy entered they looked at her curiously, and
one of them whispered:
"Are you really
going to look upon the face of Oz the Terrible?"
"Of course,"
answered the girl, "if he will see me."
"Oh, he will see
you," said the soldier who had taken her message to the Wizard,
"although he does not like to have people ask to see him. Indeed, at first
he was angry and said I should send you back where you came from. Then he asked
me what you looked like, and when I mentioned your silver shoes he was very
much interested. At last I told him about the mark upon your forehead, and he
decided he would admit you to his presence."
Just then a bell rang,
and the green girl said to Dorothy, "That is the signal. You must go into
the Throne Room alone."
She opened a little
door and Dorothy walked boldly through and found herself in a wonderful place.
It was a big, round room with a high arched roof, and the walls and ceiling and
floor were covered with large emeralds set closely together. In the center of
the roof was a great light, as bright as the sun, which made the emeralds
sparkle in a wonderful manner.
But what interested
Dorothy most was the big throne of green marble that stood in the middle of the
room. It was shaped like a chair and sparkled with gems, as did everything
else. In the center of the chair was an enormous Head, without a body to
support it or any arms or legs whatever. There was no hair upon this head, but
it had eyes and a nose and mouth, and was much bigger than the head of the
biggest giant.
As Dorothy gazed upon
this in wonder and fear, the eyes turned slowly and looked at her sharply and
steadily. Then the mouth moved, and Dorothy heard a voice say:
"I am Oz, the
Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
It was not such an
awful voice as she had expected to come from the big Head; so she took courage
and answered:
"I am Dorothy, the
Small and Meek. I have come to you for help."
The eyes looked at her
thoughtfully for a full minute. Then said the voice:
"Where did you get
the silver shoes?"
"I got them from
the Wicked Witch of the East, when my house fell on her and killed her,"
she replied.
"Where did you get
the mark upon your forehead?" continued the voice.
"That is where the
Good Witch of the North kissed me when she bade me good-bye and sent me to
you," said the girl.
Again the eyes looked
at her sharply, and they saw she was telling the truth. Then Oz asked,
"What do you wish
me to do?"
"Send me back to
Kansas, where my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are," she answered earnestly.
"I don’t like your country, although it is so beautiful. And I am sure
Aunt Em will be dreadfully worried over my being away so long."
The eyes winked three
times, and then they turned up to the ceiling and down to the floor and rolled
around so queerly that they seemed to see every part of the room. And at last
they looked at Dorothy again.
"Why should I do
this for you?" asked Oz.
"Because you are
strong and I am weak; because you are a Great Wizard and I am only a little
girl."
"But you were
strong enough to kill the Wicked Witch of the East," said Oz.
"That just
happened," returned Dorothy simply; "I could not help it."
"Well," said
the Head, "I will give you my answer. You have no right to expect me to
send you back to Kansas unless you do something for me in return. In this
country everyone must pay for everything he gets. If you wish me to use my
magic power to send you home again you must do something for me first. Help me
and I will help you."
"What must I
do?" asked the girl.
"Kill the Wicked
Witch of the West," answered Oz.
"But I
cannot!" exclaimed Dorothy, greatly surprised.
"You killed the
Witch of the East and you wear the silver shoes, which bear a powerful charm.
There is now but one Wicked Witch left in all this land, and when you can tell
me she is dead I will send you back to Kansas--but not before."
The little girl began
to weep, she was so much disappointed; and the eyes winked again and looked
upon her anxiously, as if the Great Oz felt that she could help him if she
would.
"I never killed
anything, willingly," she sobbed. "Even if I wanted to, how could I
kill the Wicked Witch? If you, who are Great and Terrible, cannot kill her
yourself, how do you expect me to do it?"
"I do not
know," said the Head; "but that is my answer, and until the Wicked
Witch dies you will not see your uncle and aunt again. Remember that the Witch
is Wicked--tremendously Wicked -and ought to be killed. Now go, and do not ask
to see me again until you have done your task."
Sorrowfully Dorothy
left the Throne Room and went back where the Lion and the Scarecrow and the Tin
Woodman were waiting to hear what Oz had said to her. "There is no hope
for me," she said sadly, "for Oz will not send me home until I have
killed the Wicked Witch of the West; and that I can never do."
Her friends were sorry,
but could do nothing to help her; so Dorothy went to her own room and lay down
on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
The next morning the
soldier with the green whiskers came to the Scarecrow and said:
"Come with me, for
Oz has sent for you."
So the Scarecrow
followed him and was admitted into the great Throne Room, where he saw, sitting
in the emerald throne, a most lovely Lady. She was dressed in green silk gauze
and wore upon her flowing green locks a crown of jewels. Growing from her
shoulders were wings, gorgeous in color and so light that they fluttered if the
slightest breath of air reached them.
When the Scarecrow had
bowed, as prettily as his straw stuffing would let him, before this beautiful
creature, she looked upon him sweetly, and said:
"I am Oz, the
Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
Now the Scarecrow, who
had expected to see the great Head Dorothy had told him of, was much
astonished; but he answered her bravely.
"I am only a
Scarecrow, stuffed with straw. Therefore I have no brains, and I come to you
praying that you will put brains in my head instead of straw, so that I may
become as much a man as any other in your dominions."
"Why should I do
this for you?" asked the Lady.
"Because you are
wise and powerful, and no one else can help me," answered the Scarecrow.
"I never grant
favors without some return," said Oz; "but this much I will promise.
If you will kill for me the Wicked Witch of the West, I will bestow upon you a
great many brains, and such good brains that you will be the wisest man in all
the Land of Oz."
"I thought you
asked Dorothy to kill the Witch," said the Scarecrow, in surprise.
"So I did. I don’t
care who kills her. But until she is dead I will not grant your wish. Now go,
and do not seek me again until you have earned the brains you so greatly
desire."
The Scarecrow went
sorrowfully back to his friends and told them what Oz had said; and Dorothy was
surprised to find that the Great Wizard was not a Head, as she had seen him,
but a lovely Lady.
"All the
same," said the Scarecrow, "she needs a heart as much as the Tin
Woodman."
On the next morning the
soldier with the green whiskers came to the Tin Woodman and said,
"Oz has sent for
you. Follow me."
So the Tin Woodman
followed him and came to the great Throne Room. He did not know whether he
would find Oz a lovely Lady or a Head, but he hoped it would be the lovely
Lady. "For," he said to himself, "if it is the head, I am sure I
shall not be given a heart, since a head has no heart of its own and therefore
cannot feel for me. But if it is the lovely Lady I shall beg hard for a heart,
for all ladies are themselves said to be kindly hearted.
But when the Woodman
entered the great Throne Room he saw neither the Head nor the Lady, for Oz had
taken the shape of a most terrible Beast. It was nearly as big as an elephant,
and the green throne seemed hardly strong enough to hold its weight. The Beast
had a head like that of a rhinoceros, only there were five eyes in its face.
There were five long arms growing out of its body, and it also had five long,
slim legs. Thick, woolly hair covered every part of it, and a more
dreadful-looking monster could not be imagined. It was fortunate the Tin
Woodman had no heart at that moment, for it would have beat loud and fast from
terror. But being only tin, the Woodman was not at all afraid, although he was
much disappointed.
"I am Oz, the
Great and Terrible," spoke the Beast, in a voice that was one great roar.
"Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
"I am a Woodman,
and made of tin. Therefore I have no heart, and cannot love. I pray you to give
me a heart that I may be as other men are."
"Why should I do
this?" demanded the Beast.
"Because I ask it,
and you alone can grant my request," answered the Woodman.
Oz gave a low growl at
this, but said, gruffly: "If you indeed desire a heart, you must earn
it."
"How?" asked
the Woodman.
"Help Dorothy to
kill the Wicked Witch of the West," replied the Beast. "When the
Witch is dead, come to me, and I will then give you the biggest and kindest and
most loving heart in all the Land of Oz."
So the Tin Woodman was
forced to return sorrowfully to his friends and tell them of the terrible Beast
he had seen. They all wondered greatly at the many forms the Great Wizard could
take upon himself, and the Lion said:
"If he is a Beast
when I go to see him, I shall roar my loudest, and so frighten him that he will
grant all I ask. And if he is the lovely Lady, I shall pretend to spring upon
her, and so compel her to do my bidding. And if he is the great Head, he will
be at my mercy; for I will roll this head all about the room until he promises
to give us what we desire. So be of good cheer, my friends, for all will yet be
well."
The next morning the
soldier with the green whiskers led the Lion to the great Throne Room and bade
him enter the presence of Oz.
The Lion at once passed
through the door, and glancing around saw, to his surprise, that before the
throne was a Ball of Fire, so fierce and glowing he could scarcely bear to gaze
upon it. His first thought was that Oz had by accident caught on fire and was
burning up; but when he tried to go nearer, the heat was so intense that it
singed his whiskers, and he crept back tremblingly to a spot nearer the door.
Then a low, quiet voice
came from the Ball of Fire, and these were the words it spoke:
"I am Oz, the
Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"
And the Lion answered,
"I am a Cowardly Lion, afraid of everything. I came to you to beg that you
give me courage, so that in reality I may become the King of Beasts, as men
call me."
"Why should I give
you courage?" demanded Oz.
"Because of all
Wizards you are the greatest, and alone have power to grant my request,"
answered the Lion.
The Ball of Fire burned
fiercely for a time, and the voice said, "Bring me proof that the Wicked
Witch is dead, and that moment I will give you courage. But as long as the
Witch lives, you must remain a coward."
The Lion was angry at
this speech, but could say nothing in reply, and while he stood silently gazing
at the Ball of Fire it became so furiously hot that he turned tail and rushed
from the room. He was glad to find his friends waiting for him, and told them
of his terrible interview with the Wizard.
"What shall we do
now?" asked Dorothy sadly.
"There is only one
thing we can do," returned the Lion, "and that is to go to the land
of the Winkies, seek out the Wicked Witch, and destroy her."
"But suppose we
cannot?" said the girl.
"Then I shall
never have courage," declared the Lion.
"And I shall never
have brains," added the Scarecrow.
"And I shall never
have a heart," spoke the Tin of Woodman.
"And I shall never
see Aunt Em and Uncle Henry," said Dorothy, beginning to cry.
"Be careful!"
cried the green girl. "The tears will fall on your green silk gown and
spot it."
So Dorothy dried her
eyes and said, "I suppose we must try it; but I am sure I do not want to
kill anybody, even to see Aunt Em again."
"I will go with
you; but I’m too much of a coward to kill the Witch," said the Lion.
"I will go
too," declared the Scarecrow; "but I shall not be of much help to
you, I am such a fool."
"I haven’t the
heart to harm even a Witch," remarked the Tin Woodman; "but if you go
I certainly shall go with you."
Therefore it was
decided to start upon their journey the next morning, and the Woodman sharpened
his axe on a green grindstone and had all his joints properly oiled. The
Scarecrow stuffed himself with fresh straw and Dorothy put new paint on his
eyes that he might see better. The green girl, who was very kind to them,
filled Dorothy’s basket with good things to eat, and fastened a little bell
around Toto’s neck with a green ribbon.
They went to bed quite
early and slept soundly until daylight, when they were awakened by the crowing
of a green cock that lived in the back yard of the Palace, and the cackling of
a hen that had laid a green egg.
The soldier with the
green whiskers led them through the streets of the Emerald City until they
reached the room where the Guardian of the Gates lived. This officer unlocked
their spectacles to put them back in his great box, and then he politely opened
the gate for our friends.
"Which road leads
to the Wicked Witch of the West?" asked Dorothy.
"There is no
road," answered the Guardian of the Gates. "No one ever wishes to go
that way."
"How, then, are we
to find her?" enquired the girl.
"That will be
easy," replied the man, "for when she knows you are in the country of
the Winkies she will find you, and make you all her slaves."
"Perhaps
not," said the Scarecrow, "for we mean to destroy her."
"Oh, that is
different," said the Guardian of the Gates. "No one has ever
destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she would make slaves of you, as
she has of the rest. But take care; for she is wicked and fierce, and may not
allow you to destroy her. Keep to the West, where the sun sets, and you cannot
fail to find her."
They thanked him and
bade him good-bye, and turned toward the West, walking over fields of soft
grass dotted here and there with daisies and buttercups. Dorothy still wore the
pretty silk dress she had put on in the palace, but now, to her surprise, she
found it was no longer green, but pure white. The ribbon around Toto’s neck had
also lost its green color and was as white as Dorothy’s dress.
The Emerald City was
soon left far behind. As they advanced the ground became rougher and hillier,
for there were no farms nor houses in this country of the West, and the ground
was untilled.
In the afternoon the
sun shone hot in their faces, for there were no trees to offer them shade; so
that before night Dorothy and Toto and the Lion were tired, and lay down upon
the grass and fell asleep, with the Woodman and the Scarecrow keeping watch.
Now the Wicked Witch of
the West had but one eye, yet that was as powerful as a telescope, and could
see everywhere. So, as she sat in the door of her castle, she happened to look
around and saw Dorothy lying asleep, with her friends all about her. They were
a long distance off, but the Wicked Witch was angry to find them in her
country; so she blew upon a silver whistle that hung around her neck.
At once there came
running to her from all directions a pack of great wolves. They had long legs
and fierce eyes and sharp teeth.
"Go to those
people," said the Witch, "and tear them to pieces."
"Are you not going
to make them your slaves?" asked the leader of the wolves.
"No," she
answered, "one is of tin, and one of straw; one is a girl and another a
Lion. None of them is fit to work, so you may tear them into small
pieces."
"Very well,"
said the wolf, and he dashed away at full speed, followed by the others.
It was lucky the
Scarecrow and the Woodman were wide awake and heard the wolves coming.
"This is my
fight," said the Woodman, "so get behind me and I will meet them as
they come."
He seized his axe,
which he had made very sharp, and as the leader of the wolves came on the Tin
Woodman swung his arm and chopped the wolf’s head from its body, so that it
immediately died. As soon as he could raise his axe another wolf came up, and
he also fell under the sharp edge of the Tin Woodman’s weapon. There were forty
wolves, and forty times a wolf was killed, so that at last they all lay dead in
a heap before the Woodman.
Then he put down his
axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said, "It was a good fight,
friend."
They waited until
Dorothy awoke the next morning. The little girl was quite frightened when she
saw the great pile of shaggy wolves, but the Tin Woodman told her all. She
thanked him for saving them and sat down to breakfast, after which they started
again upon their journey.
Now this same morning
the Wicked Witch came to the door of her castle and looked out with her one eye
that could see far off. She saw all her wolves lying dead, and the strangers
still traveling through her country. This made her angrier than before, and she
blew her silver whistle twice.
Straightway a great
flock of wild crows came flying toward her, enough to darken the sky.
And the Wicked Witch
said to the King Crow, "Fly at once to the strangers; peck out their eyes
and tear them to pieces."
The wild crows flew in
one great flock toward Dorothy and her companions. When the little girl saw
them coming she was afraid.
But the Scarecrow said,
"This is my battle, so lie down beside me and you will not be
harmed."
So they all lay upon
the ground except the Scarecrow, and he stood up and stretched out his arms.
And when the crows saw him they were frightened, as these birds always are by
scarecrows, and did not dare to come any nearer. But the King Crow said:
"It is only a
stuffed man. I will peck his eyes out."
The King Crow flew at
the Scarecrow, who caught it by the head and twisted its neck until it died.
And then another crow flew at him, and the Scarecrow twisted its neck also.
There were forty crows, and forty times the Scarecrow twisted a neck, until at
last all were lying dead beside him. Then he called to his companions to rise,
and again they went upon their journey.
When the Wicked Witch
looked out again and saw all her crows lying in a heap, she got into a terrible
rage, and blew three times upon her silver whistle.
Forthwith there was
heard a great buzzing in the air, and a swarm of black bees came flying toward
her.
"Go to the
strangers and sting them to death!" commanded the Witch, and the bees
turned and flew rapidly until they came to where Dorothy and her friends were
walking. But the Woodman had seen them coming, and the Scarecrow had decided
what to do.
"Take out my straw
and scatter it over the little girl and the dog and the Lion," he said to
the Woodman, "and the bees cannot sting them." This the Woodman did,
and as Dorothy lay close beside the Lion and held Toto in her arms, the straw
covered them entirely.
The bees came and found
no one but the Woodman to sting, so they flew at him and broke off all their
stings against the tin, without hurting the Woodman at all. And as bees cannot
live when their stings are broken that was the end of the black bees, and they
lay scattered thick about the Woodman, like little heaps of fine coal.
Then Dorothy and the
Lion got up, and the girl helped the Tin Woodman put the straw back into the
Scarecrow again, until he was as good as ever. So they started upon their
journey once more.
The Wicked Witch was so
angry when she saw her black bees in little heaps like fine coal that she
stamped her foot and tore her hair and gnashed her teeth. And then she called a
dozen of her slaves, who were the Winkies, and gave them sharp spears, telling
them to go to the strangers and destroy them.
The Winkies were not a
brave people, but they had to do as they were told. So they marched away until
they came near to Dorothy. Then the Lion gave a great roar and sprang towards
them, and the poor Winkies were so frightened that they ran back as fast as
they could.
When they returned to
the castle the Wicked Witch beat them well with a strap, and sent them back to
their work, after which she sat down to think what she should do next. She
could not understand how all her plans to destroy these strangers had failed;
but she was a powerful Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon made up her
mind how to act.
There was, in her
cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of diamonds and rubies running round it.
This Golden Cap had a charm. Whoever owned it could call three times upon the
Winged Monkeys, who would obey any order they were given. But no person could
command these strange creatures more than three times. Twice already the Wicked
Witch had used the charm of the Cap. Once was when she had made the Winkies her
slaves, and set herself to rule over their country. The Winged Monkeys had
helped her do this. The second time was when she had fought against the Great
Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the West. The Winged Monkeys had
also helped her in doing this. Only once more could she use this Golden Cap, for
which reason she did not like to do so until all her other powers were
exhausted. But now that her fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging
bees were gone, and her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion, she
saw there was only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends.
So the Wicked Witch
took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and placed it upon her head. Then she
stood upon her left foot and said slowly:
"Ep-pe, pep-pe,
kak-ke!"
Next she stood upon her
right foot and said:
"Hil-lo, hol-lo,
hel-lo!"
After this she stood
upon both feet and cried in a loud voice:
"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy,
zik!"
Now the charm began to
work. The sky was darkened, and a low rumbling sound was heard in the air.
There was a rushing of many wings, a great chattering and laughing, and the sun
came out of the dark sky to show the Wicked Witch surrounded by a crowd of
monkeys, each with a pair of immense and powerful wings on his shoulders.
One, much bigger than
the others, seemed to be their leader. He flew close to the Witch and said,
"You have called us for the third and last time. What do you
command?"
"Go to the
strangers who are within my land and destroy them all except the Lion,"
said the Wicked Witch. "Bring that beast to me, for I have a mind to
harness him like a horse, and make him work."
"Your commands
shall be obeyed," said the leader. Then, with a great deal of chattering
and noise, the Winged Monkeys flew away to the place where Dorothy and her
friends were walking.
Some of the Monkeys
seized the Tin Woodman and carried him through the air until they were over a
country thickly covered with sharp rocks. Here they dropped the poor Woodman,
who fell a great distance to the rocks, where he lay so battered and dented
that he could neither move nor groan.
Others of the Monkeys
caught the Scarecrow, and with their long fingers pulled all of the straw out
of his clothes and head. They made his hat and boots and clothes into a small
bundle and threw it into the top branches of a tall tree.
The remaining Monkeys
threw pieces of stout rope around the Lion and wound many coils about his body
and head and legs, until he was unable to bite or scratch or struggle in any
way. Then they lifted him up and flew away with him to the Witch’s castle, where
he was placed in a small yard with a high iron fence around it, so that he
could not escape.
But Dorothy they did
not harm at all. She stood, with Toto in her arms, watching the sad fate of her
comrades and thinking it would soon be her turn. The leader of the Winged
Monkeys flew up to her, his long, hairy arms stretched out and his ugly face
grinning terribly; but he saw the mark of the Good Witch’s kiss upon her
forehead and stopped short, motioning the others not to touch her.
"We dare not harm
this little girl," he said to them, "for she is protected by the
Power of Good, and that is greater than the Power of Evil. All we can do is to
carry her to the castle of the Wicked Witch and leave her there."
So, carefully and
gently, they lifted Dorothy in their arms and carried her swiftly through the
air until they came to the castle, where they set her down upon the front
doorstep. Then the leader said to the Witch:
"We have obeyed
you as far as we were able. The Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow are destroyed,
and the Lion is tied up in your yard. The little girl we dare not harm, nor the
dog she carries in her arms. Your power over our band is now ended, and you
will never see us again."
Then all the Winged
Monkeys, with much laughing and chattering and noise, flew into the air and
were soon out of sight.
The Wicked Witch was
both surprised and worried when she saw the mark on Dorothy’s forehead, for she
knew well that neither the Winged Monkeys nor she, herself, dare hurt the girl
in any way. She looked down at Dorothy’s feet, and seeing the Silver Shoes,
began to tremble with fear, for she knew what a powerful charm belonged to
them. At first the Witch was tempted to run away from Dorothy; but she happened
to look into the child’s eyes and saw how simple the soul behind them was, and
that the little girl did not know of the wonderful power the Silver Shoes gave
her. So the Wicked Witch laughed to herself, and thought, "I can still
make her my slave, for she does not know how to use her power." Then she
said to Dorothy, harshly and severely:
"Come with me; and
see that you mind everything I tell you, for if you do not I will make an end
of you, as I did of the Tin Woodman and the Scarecrow."
Dorothy followed her
through many of the beautiful rooms in her castle until they came to the
kitchen, where the Witch bade her clean the pots and kettles and sweep the
floor and keep the fire fed with wood.
Dorothy went to work
meekly, with her mind made up to work as hard as she could; for she was glad
the Wicked Witch had decided not to kill her.
With Dorothy hard at
work, the Witch thought she would go into the courtyard and harness the
Cowardly Lion like a horse; it would amuse her, she was sure, to make him draw
her chariot whenever she wished to go to drive. But as she opened the gate the
Lion gave a loud roar and bounded at her so fiercely that the Witch was afraid,
and ran out and shut the gate again.
"If I cannot
harness you," said the Witch to the Lion, speaking through the bars of the
gate, "I can starve you. You shall have nothing to eat until you do as I
wish."
So after that she took
no food to the imprisoned Lion; but every day she came to the gate at noon and
asked, "Are you ready to be harnessed like a horse?"
And the Lion would
answer, "No. If you come in this yard, I will bite you."
The reason the Lion did
not have to do as the Witch wished was that every night, while the woman was
asleep, Dorothy carried him food from the cupboard. After he had eaten he would
lie down on his bed of straw, and Dorothy would lie beside him and put her head
on his soft, shaggy mane, while they talked of their troubles and tried to plan
some way to escape. But they could find no way to get out of the castle, for it
was constantly guarded by the yellow Winkies, who were the slaves of the Wicked
Witch and too afraid of her not to do as she told them.
The girl had to work
hard during the day, and often the Witch threatened to beat her with the same
old umbrella she always carried in her hand. But, in truth, she did not dare to
strike Dorothy, because of the mark upon her forehead. The child did not know
this, and was full of fear for herself and Toto. Once the Witch struck Toto a
blow with her umbrella and the brave little dog flew at her and bit her leg in return.
The Witch did not bleed where she was bitten, for she was so wicked that the
blood in her had dried up many years before.
Dorothy’s life became
very sad as she grew to understand that it would be harder than ever to get
back to Kansas and Aunt Em again. Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours,
with Toto sitting at her feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to
show how sorry he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether
he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him; but he knew
the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.
Now the Wicked Witch
had a great longing to have for her own the Silver Shoes which the girl always
wore. Her bees and her crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up,
and she had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could only get
hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power than all the other
things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully, to see if she ever took off
her shoes, thinking she might steal them. But the child was so proud of her
pretty shoes that she never took them off except at night and when she took her
bath. The Witch was too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy’s room at
night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of
the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing. Indeed, the old
Witch never touched water, nor ever let water touch her in any way.
But the wicked creature
was very cunning, and she finally thought of a trick that would give her what
she wanted. She placed a bar of iron in the middle of the kitchen floor, and
then by her magic arts made the iron invisible to human eyes. So that when Dorothy
walked across the floor she stumbled over the bar, not being able to see it,
and fell at full length. She was not much hurt, but in her fall one of the
Silver Shoes came off; and before she could reach it, the Witch had snatched it
away and put it on her own skinny foot.
The wicked woman was
greatly pleased with the success of her trick, for as long as she had one of
the shoes she owned half the power of their charm, and Dorothy could not use it
against her, even had she known how to do so.
The little girl, seeing
she had lost one of her pretty shoes, grew angry, and said to the Witch,
"Give me back my shoe!"
"I will not,"
retorted the Witch, "for it is now my shoe, and not yours."
"You are a wicked
creature!" cried Dorothy. "You have no right to take my shoe from
me."
"I shall keep it,
just the same," said the Witch, laughing at her, "and someday I shall
get the other one from you, too."
This made Dorothy so
very angry that she picked up the bucket of water that stood near and dashed it
over the Witch, wetting her from head to foot.
Instantly the wicked
woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as Dorothy looked at her in wonder,
the Witch began to shrink and fall away.
"See what you have
done!" she screamed. "In a minute I shall melt away."
"I’m very sorry,
indeed," said Dorothy, who was truly frightened to see the Witch actually
melting away like brown sugar before her very eyes.
"Didn’t you know
water would be the end of me?" asked the Witch, in a wailing, despairing
voice.
"Of course
not," answered Dorothy. "How should I?"
"Well, in a few
minutes I shall be all melted, and you will have the castle to yourself. I have
been wicked in my day, but I never thought a little girl like you would ever be
able to melt me and end my wicked deeds. Look out--here I go!"
With these words the
Witch fell down in a brown, melted, shapeless mass and began to spread over the
clean boards of the kitchen floor. Seeing that she had really melted away to
nothing, Dorothy drew another bucket of water and threw it over the mess. She
then swept it all out the door. After picking out the silver shoe, which was
all that was left of the old woman, she cleaned and dried it with a cloth, and
put it on her foot again. Then, being at last free to do as she chose, she ran
out to the courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West had
come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a strange land.
The Cowardly Lion was
much pleased to hear that the Wicked Witch had been melted by a bucket of
water, and Dorothy at once unlocked the gate of his prison and set him free.
They went in together to the castle, where Dorothy’s first act was to call all
the Winkies together and tell them that they were no longer slaves.
There was great
rejoicing among the yellow Winkies, for they had been made to work hard during
many years for the Wicked Witch, who had always treated them with great
cruelty. They kept this day as a holiday, then and ever after, and spent the
time in feasting and dancing.
"If our friends,
the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, were only with us," said the Lion,
"I should be quite happy."
"Don’t you suppose
we could rescue them?" asked the girl anxiously.
"We can try,"
answered the Lion.
So they called the
yellow Winkies and asked them if they would help to rescue their friends, and
the Winkies said that they would be delighted to do all in their power for
Dorothy, who had set them free from bondage. So she chose a number of the
Winkies who looked as if they knew the most, and they all started away. They
traveled that day and part of the next until they came to the rocky plain where
the Tin Woodman lay, all battered and bent. His axe was near him, but the blade
was rusted and the handle broken off short.
The Winkies lifted him
tenderly in their arms, and carried him back to the Yellow Castle again,
Dorothy shedding a few tears by the way at the sad plight of her old friend,
and the Lion looking sober and sorry. When they reached the castle Dorothy said
to the Winkies:
"Are any of your
people tinsmiths?"
"Oh, yes. Some of
us are very good tinsmiths," they told her.
"Then bring them
to me," she said. And when the tinsmiths came, bringing with them all
their tools in baskets, she inquired, "Can you straighten out those dents
in the Tin Woodman, and bend him back into shape again, and solder him together
where he is broken?"
The tinsmiths looked
the Woodman over carefully and then answered that they thought they could mend
him so he would be as good as ever. So they set to work in one of the big
yellow rooms of the castle and worked for three days and four nights, hammering
and twisting and bending and soldering and polishing and pounding at the legs
and body and head of the Tin Woodman, until at last he was straightened out
into his old form, and his joints worked as well as ever. To be sure, there
were several patches on him, but the tinsmiths did a good job, and as the
Woodman was not a vain man he did not mind the patches at all.
When, at last, he
walked into Dorothy’s room and thanked her for rescuing him, he was so pleased
that he wept tears of joy, and Dorothy had to wipe every tear carefully from
his face with her apron, so his joints would not be rusted. At the same time
her own tears fell thick and fast at the joy of meeting her old friend again,
and these tears did not need to be wiped away. As for the Lion, he wiped his
eyes so often with the tip of his tail that it became quite wet, and he was
obliged to go out into the courtyard and hold it in the sun till it dried.
"If we only had
the Scarecrow with us again," said the Tin Woodman, when Dorothy had
finished telling him everything that had happened, "I should be quite
happy."
"We must try to
find him," said the girl.
So she called the
Winkies to help her, and they walked all that day and part of the next until
they came to the tall tree in the branches of which the Winged Monkeys had
tossed the carecrow’s clothes.
It was a very tall
tree, and the trunk was so smooth that no one could climb it; but the Woodman
said at once, "I’ll chop it down, and then we can get the Scarecrow’s
clothes."
Now while the tinsmiths
had been at work mending the Woodman himself, another of the Winkies, who was a
goldsmith, had made an axe-handle of solid gold and fitted it to the Woodman’s
axe, instead of the old broken handle. Others polished the blade until all the
rust was removed and it glistened like burnished silver.
As soon as he had
spoken, the Tin Woodman began to chop, and in a short time the tree fell over
with a crash, whereupon the Scarecrow’s clothes fell out of the branches and
rolled off on the ground.
Dorothy picked them up
and had the Winkies carry them back to the castle, where they were stuffed with
nice, clean straw; and behold! here was the Scarecrow, as good as ever,
thanking them over and over again for saving him.
Now that they were
reunited, Dorothy and her friends spent a few happy days at the Yellow Castle,
where they found everything they needed to make them comfortable.
But one day the girl
thought of Aunt Em, and said,
"We must go back
to Oz, and claim his promise."
"Yes," said
the Woodman, "at last I shall get my heart."
"And I shall get
my brains," added the Scarecrow joyfully.
"And I shall get
my courage," said the Lion thoughtfully.
"And I shall get
back to Kansas," cried Dorothy, clapping her hands. "Oh, let us start
for the Emerald City tomorrow!"
This they decided to
do. The next day they called the Winkies together and bade them good-bye. The
Winkies were sorry to have them go, and they had grown so fond of the Tin
Woodman that they begged him to stay and rule over them and the Yellow Land of
the West. Finding they were determined to go, the Winkies gave Toto and the
Lion each a golden collar; and to Dorothy they presented a beautiful bracelet
studded with diamonds; and to the Scarecrow they gave a gold-headed walking
stick, to keep him from stumbling; and to the Tin Woodman they offered a silver
oil-can, inlaid with gold and set with precious jewels.
Every one of the
travelers made the Winkies a pretty speech in return, and all shook hands with
them until their arms ached.
Dorothy went to the
Witch’s cupboard to fill her basket with food for the journey, and there she
saw the Golden Cap. She tried it on her own head and found that it fitted her
exactly. She did not know anything about the charm of the Golden Cap, but she
saw that it was pretty, so she made up her mind to wear it and carry her
sunbonnet in the basket.
Then, being prepared
for the journey, they all started for the Emerald City; and the Winkies gave
them three cheers and many good wishes to carry with them.
You will remember there
was no road--not even a pathway-- between the castle of the Wicked Witch and
the Emerald City. When the four travelers went in search of the Witch she had
seen them coming, and so sent the Winged Monkeys to bring them to her. It was
much harder to find their way back through the big fields of buttercups and
yellow daisies than it was being carried. They knew, of course, they must go
straight east, toward the rising sun; and they started off in the right way.
But at noon, when the sun was over their heads, they did not know which was
east and which was west, and that was the reason they were lost in the great
fields. They kept on walking, however, and at night the moon came out and shone
brightly. So they lay down among the sweet smelling yellow flowers and slept
soundly until morning--all but the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman.
The next morning the
sun was behind a cloud, but they started on, as if they were quite sure which
way they were going.
"If we walk far
enough," said Dorothy, "I am sure we shall sometime come to some
place."
But day by day passed
away, and they still saw nothing before them but the scarlet fields. The
Scarecrow began to grumble a bit.
"We have surely
lost our way," he said, "and unless we find it again in time to reach
the Emerald City, I shall never get my brains."
"Nor I my
heart," declared the Tin Woodman. "It seems to me I can scarcely wait
till I get to Oz, and you must admit this is a very long journey."
"You see,"
said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, "I haven’t the courage to keep
tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all."
Then Dorothy lost
heart. She sat down on the grass and looked at her companions, and they sat
down and looked at her, and Toto found that for the first time in his life he
was too tired to chase a butterfly that flew past his head. So he put out his
tongue and panted and looked at Dorothy as if to ask what they should do next.
"Suppose we call
the field mice," she suggested. "They could probably tell us the way
to the Emerald City."
"To be sure they
could," cried the Scarecrow. "Why didn’t we think of that
before?"
Dorothy blew the little
whistle she had always carried about her neck since the Queen of the Mice had
given it to her. In a few minutes they heard the pattering of tiny feet, and
many of the small gray mice came running up to her. Among them was the Queen
herself, who asked, in her squeaky little voice:
"What can I do for
my friends?"
"We have lost our
way," said Dorothy. "Can you tell us where the Emerald City is?"
"Certainly,"
answered the Queen; "but it is a great way off, for you have had it at
your backs all this time." Then she noticed Dorothy’s Golden Cap, and
said, "Why don’t you use the charm of the Cap, and call the Winged Monkeys
to you? They will carry you to the City of Oz in less than an hour."
"I didn’t know
there was a charm," answered Dorothy, in surprise. "What is it?"
"It is written
inside the Golden Cap," replied the Queen of the Mice. "But if you
are going to call the Winged Monkeys we must run away, for they are full of mischief
and think it great fun to plague us."
"Won’t they hurt
me?" asked the girl anxiously.
"Oh, no. They must
obey the wearer of the Cap. Good-bye!" And she scampered out of sight,
with all the mice hurrying after her.
Dorothy looked inside
the Golden Cap and saw some words written upon the lining. These, she thought,
must be the charm, so she read the directions carefully and put the Cap upon
her head.
"Ep-pe, pep-pe,
kak-ke!" she said, standing on her left foot.
"What did you
say?" asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what she was doing.
"Hil-lo, hol-lo,
hel-lo!" Dorothy went on, standing this time on her right foot.
"Hello!"
replied the Tin Woodman calmly.
"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy,
zik!" said Dorothy, who was now standing on both feet. This ended the
saying of the charm, and they heard a great chattering and flapping of wings,
as the band of Winged Monkeys flew up to them.
The King bowed low
before Dorothy, and asked, "What is your command?"
"We wish to go to
the Emerald City," said the child, "and we have lost our way."
"We will carry
you," replied the King, and no sooner had he spoken than two of the
Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her. Others took the
Scarecrow and the Woodman and the Lion, and one little Monkey seized Toto and
flew after them, although the dog tried hard to bite him.
The Scarecrow and the
Tin Woodman were rather frightened at first, for they remembered how badly the
Winged Monkeys had treated them before; but they saw that no harm was intended,
so they rode through the air quite cheerfully, and had a fine time looking at
the pretty gardens and woods far below them.
Dorothy found herself
riding easily between two of the biggest Monkeys, one of them the King himself.
They had made a chair of their hands and were careful not to hurt her.
"Why do you have
to obey the charm of the Golden Cap?" she asked.
"That is a long
story," answered the King, with a Winged laugh; "but as we have a
long journey before us, I will pass the time by telling you about it, if you
wish."
"I shall be glad
to hear it," she replied.
"Once," began
the leader, "we were a free people, living happily in the great forest,
flying from tree to tree, eating nuts and fruit, and doing just as we pleased
without calling anybody master. Perhaps some of us were rather too full of
mischief at times, flying down to pull the tails of the animals that had no
wings, chasing birds, and throwing nuts at the people who walked in the forest.
But we were careless and happy and full of fun, and enjoyed every minute of the
day. This was many years ago, long before Oz came out of the clouds to rule over
this land.
"There lived here
then, away at the North, a beautiful princess, who was also a powerful
sorceress. All her magic was used to help the people, and she was never known
to hurt anyone who was good. Her name was Gayelette, and she lived in a handsome
palace built from great blocks of ruby. Everyone loved her, but her greatest
sorrow was that she could find no one to love in return, since all the men were
much too stupid and ugly to mate with one so beautiful and wise. At last,
however, she found a boy who was handsome and manly and wise beyond his years.
Gayelette made up her mind that when he grew to be a man she would make him her
husband, so she took him to her ruby palace and used all her magic powers to
make him as strong and good and lovely as any woman could wish. When he grew to
manhood, Quelala, as he was called, was said to be the best and wisest man in
all the land, while his manly beauty was so great that Gayelette loved him
dearly, and hastened to make everything ready for the wedding.
"My grandfather
was at that time the King of the Winged Monkeys which lived in the forest near
Gayelette’s palace, and the old fellow loved a joke better than a good dinner.
One day, just before the wedding, my grandfather was flying out with his band
when he saw Quelala walking beside the river. He was dressed in a rich costume
of pink silk and purple velvet, and my grandfather thought he would see what he
could do. At his word the band flew down and seized Quelala, carried him in
their arms until they were over the middle of the river, and then dropped him
into the water.
"‘Swim out, my
fine fellow,’ cried my grandfather, ‘and see if the water has spotted your
clothes.’ Quelala was much too wise not to swim, and he was not in the least
spoiled by all his good fortune. He laughed, when he came to the top of the
water, and swam in to shore. But when Gayelette came running out to him she
found his silks and velvet all ruined by the river.
"The princess was
angry, and she knew, of course, who did it. She had all the Winged Monkeys
brought before her, and she said at first that their wings should be tied and
they should be treated as they had treated Quelala, and dropped in the river.
But my grandfather pleaded hard, for he knew the Monkeys would drown in the
river with their wings tied, and Quelala said a kind word for them also; so
that Gayelette finally spared them, on condition that the Winged Monkeys should
ever after do three times the bidding of the owner of the Golden Cap. This Cap
had been made for a wedding present to Quelala, and it is said to have cost the
princess half her kingdom. Of course my grandfather and all the other Monkeys
at once agreed to the condition, and that is how it happens that we are three
times the slaves of the owner of the Golden Cap, whosoever he may be."
"And what became
of them?" asked Dorothy, who had been greatly interested in the story.
"Quelala being the
first owner of the Golden Cap," replied the Monkey, "he was the first
to lay his wishes upon us. As his bride could not bear the sight of us, he
called us all to him in the forest after he had married her and ordered us
always to keep where she could never again set eyes on a Winged Monkey, which
we were glad to do, for we were all afraid of her.
"This was all we
ever had to do until the Golden Cap fell into the hands of the Wicked Witch of
the West, who made us enslave the Winkies, and afterward drive Oz himself out
of the Land of the West. Now the Golden Cap is yours, and three times you have
the right to lay your wishes upon us."
As the Monkey King
finished his story Dorothy looked down and saw the green, shining walls of the
Emerald City before them. She wondered at the rapid flight of the Monkeys, but
was glad the journey was over. The strange creatures set the travelers down
carefully before the gate of the City, the King bowed low to Dorothy, and then
flew swiftly away, followed by all his band.
"That was a good
ride," said the little girl.
"Yes, and a quick
way out of our troubles," replied the Lion. "How lucky it was you
brought away that wonderful Cap!"
The four travelers
walked up to the great gate of Emerald City and rang the bell. After ringing
several times, it was opened by the same Guardian of the Gates they had met
before.
"What! are you
back again?" he asked, in surprise.
"Do you not see
us?" answered the Scarecrow.
"But I thought you
had gone to visit the Wicked Witch of the West."
"We did visit
her," said the Scarecrow.
"And she let you
go again?" asked the man, in wonder.
"She could not
help it, for she is melted," explained the Scarecrow.
"Melted! Well,
that is good news, indeed," said the man. "Who melted her?"
"It was
Dorothy," said the Lion gravely.
"Good
gracious!" exclaimed the man, and he bowed very low indeed before her.
Then he led them into
his little room and locked the spectacles from the great box on all their eyes,
just as he had done before. Afterward they passed on through the gate into the
Emerald City. When the people heard from the Guardian of the Gates that Dorothy
had melted the Wicked Witch of the West, they all gathered around the travelers
and followed them in a great crowd to the Palace of Oz.
The soldier with the
green whiskers was still on guard before the door, but he let them in at once,
and they were again met by the beautiful green girl, who showed each of them to
their old rooms at once, so they might rest until the Great Oz was ready to
receive them.
The soldier had the
news carried straight to Oz that Dorothy and the other travelers had come back
again, after destroying the Wicked Witch; but Oz made no reply. They thought
the Great Wizard would send for them at once, but he did not. They had no word
from him the next day, nor the next, nor the next. The waiting was tiresome and
wearing, and at last they grew vexed that Oz should treat them in so poor a
fashion, after sending them to undergo hardships and slavery. So the Scarecrow
at last asked the green girl to take another message to Oz, saying if he did
not let them in to see him at once they would call the Winged Monkeys to help
them, and find out whether he kept his promises or not. When the Wizard was
given this message he was so frightened that he sent word for them to come to
the Throne Room at four minutes after nine o’clock the next morning. He had
once met the Winged Monkeys in the Land of the West, and he did not wish to
meet them again.
The four travelers
passed a sleepless night, each thinking of the gift Oz had promised to bestow
on him. Dorothy fell asleep only once, and then she dreamed she was in Kansas,
where Aunt Em was telling her how glad she was to have her little girl at home
again.
Promptly at nine o’clock
the next morning the green-whiskered soldier came to them, and four minutes
later they all went into the Throne Room of the Great Oz.
Of course each one of
them expected to see the Wizard in the shape he had taken before, and all were
greatly surprised when they looked about and saw no one at all in the room.
They kept close to the door and closer to one another, for the stillness of the
empty room was more dreadful than any of the forms they had seen Oz take.
Presently they heard a
Voice, seeming to come from somewhere near the top of the great dome, and it
said, solemnly.
"I am Oz, the
Great and Terrible. Why do you seek me?"
They looked again in
every part of the room, and then, seeing no one, Dorothy asked, "Where are
you?"
"I am
everywhere," answered the Voice, "but to the eyes of common mortals I
am invisible. I will now seat myself upon my throne, that you may converse with
me." Indeed, the Voice seemed just then to come straight from the throne
itself; so they walked toward it and stood in a row while Dorothy said:
"We have come to
claim our promise, O Oz."
"What
promise?" asked Oz.
"You promised to
send me back to Kansas when the Wicked Witch was destroyed," said the
girl.
"And you promised
to give me brains," said the Scarecrow.
"And you promised
to give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"And you promised
to give me courage," said the Cowardly Lion.
"Is the Wicked
Witch really destroyed?" asked the Voice, and Dorothy thought it trembled
a little.
"Yes," she
answered, "I melted her with a bucket of water."
"Dear me,"
said the Voice, "how sudden! Well, come to me tomorrow, for I must have
time to think it over."
"You’ve had plenty
of time already," said the Tin Woodman angrily.
"We shan’t wait a
day longer," said the Scarecrow.
"You must keep
your promises to us!" exclaimed Dorothy.
The Lion thought it
might be as well to frighten the Wizard, so he gave a large, loud roar, which
was so fierce and dreadful that Toto jumped away from him in alarm and tipped
over the screen that stood in a corner. As it fell with a crash they looked
that way, and the next moment all of them were filled with wonder. For they
saw, standing in just the spot the screen had hidden, a little old man, with a
bald head and a wrinkled face, who seemed to be as much surprised as they were.
The Tin Woodman, raising his axe, rushed toward the little man and cried out,
"Who are you?"
"I am Oz, the
Great and Terrible," said the little man, in a trembling voice. "But
don’t strike me--please don’t--and I’ll do anything you want me to."
Our friends looked at
him in surprise and dismay.
"I thought Oz was
a great Head," said Dorothy.
"And I thought Oz
was a lovely Lady," said the Scarecrow.
"And I thought Oz
was a terrible Beast," said the Tin Woodman.
"And I thought Oz
was a Ball of Fire," exclaimed the Lion.
"No, you are all
wrong," said the little man meekly. "I have been making
believe."
"Making
believe!" cried Dorothy. "Are you not a Great Wizard?"
"Hush, my
dear," he said. "Don’t speak so loud, or you will be overheard--and I
should be ruined. I’m supposed to be a Great Wizard."
"And aren’t
you?" she asked.
"Not a bit of it,
my dear; I’m just a common man."
"You’re more than
that," said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone; "you’re a humbug."
"Exactly so!"
declared the little man, rubbing his hands together as if it pleased him.
"I am a humbug."
"But this is
terrible," said the Tin Woodman. "How shall I ever get my
heart?"
"Or I my
courage?" asked the Lion.
"Or I my
brains?" wailed the Scarecrow, wiping the tears from his eyes with his
coat sleeve.
"My dear
friends," said Oz, "I pray you not to speak of these little things.
Think of me, and the terrible trouble I’m in at being found out."
"Doesn’t anyone
else know you’re a humbug?" asked Dorothy.
"No one knows it
but you four--and myself," replied Oz. "I have fooled everyone so
long that I thought I should never be found out. It was a great mistake my ever
letting you into the Throne Room. Usually I will not see even my subjects, and
so they believe I am something terrible."
"But, I don’t
understand," said Dorothy, in bewilderment. "How was it that you
appeared to me as a great Head?"
"That was one of
my tricks," answered Oz. "Step this way, please, and I will tell you
all about it."
He led the way to a
small chamber in the rear of the Throne Room, and they all followed him. He
pointed to one corner, in which lay the great Head, made out of many
thicknesses of paper, and with a carefully painted face.
"This I hung from
the ceiling by a wire," said Oz. "I stood behind the screen and
pulled a thread, to make the eyes move and the mouth open."
"But how about the
voice?" she inquired.
"Oh, I am a
ventriloquist," said the little man. "I can throw the sound of my
voice wherever I wish, so that you thought it was coming out of the Head. Here
are the other things I used to deceive you." He showed the Scarecrow the
dress and the mask he had worn when he seemed to be the lovely Lady. And the
Tin Woodman saw that his terrible Beast was nothing but a lot of skins, sewn
together, with slats to keep their sides out. As for the Ball of Fire, the
false Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling. It was really a ball of
cotton, but when oil was poured upon it the ball burned fiercely.
"Really,"
said the Scarecrow, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself for being such a
humbug."
"I am--I certainly
am," answered the little man sorrowfully; "but it was the only thing
I could do. Sit down, please, there are plenty of chairs; and I will tell you
my story."
So they sat down and
listened while he told the following tale.
"I was born in
Omaha--"
"Why, that isn’t
very far from Kansas!" cried Dorothy.
"No, but it’s
farther from here," he said, shaking his head at her sadly. "When I
grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I was very well trained by a
great master. I can imitate any kind of a bird or beast." Here he mewed so
like a kitten that Toto pricked up his ears and looked everywhere to see where
she was. "After a time," continued Oz, "I tired of that, and
became a balloonist."
"What is
that?" asked Dorothy.
"A man who goes up
in a balloon on circus day, so as to draw a crowd of people together and get
them to pay to see the circus," he explained.
"Oh," she
said, "I know."
"Well, one day I
went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted, so that I couldn’t come down
again. It went way up above the clouds, so far that a current of air struck it
and carried it many, many miles away. For a day and a night I traveled through
the air, and on the morning of the second day I awoke and found the balloon
floating over a strange and beautiful country.
"It came down
gradually, and I was not hurt a bit. But I found myself in the midst of a
strange people, who, seeing me come from the clouds, thought I was a great
Wizard. Of course I let them think so, because they were afraid of me, and
promised to do anything I wished them to.
"Just to amuse
myself, and keep the good people busy, I ordered them to build this City, and
my Palace; and they did it all willingly and well. Then I thought, as the
country was so green and beautiful, I would call it the Emerald City; and to
make the name fit better I put green spectacles on all the people, so that
everything they saw was green."
"But isn’t everything
here green?" asked Dorothy.
"No more than in
any other city," replied Oz; "but when you wear green spectacles, why
of course everything you see looks green to you. The Emerald City was built a
great many years ago, for I was a young man when the balloon brought me here,
and I am a very old man now. But my people have worn green glasses on their
eyes so long that most of them think it really is an Emerald City, and it
certainly is a beautiful place, abounding in jewels and precious metals, and every
good thing that is needed to make one happy. I have been good to the people,
and they like me; but ever since this Palace was built, I have shut myself up
and would not see any of them.
"One of my
greatest fears was the Witches, for while I had no magical powers at all I soon
found out that the Witches were really able to do wonderful things. There were
four of them in this country, and they ruled the people who live in the North
and South and East and West. Fortunately, the Witches of the North and South
were good, and I knew they would do me no harm; but the Witches of the East and
West were terribly wicked, and had they not thought I was more powerful than
they themselves, they would surely have destroyed me. As it was, I lived in
deadly fear of them for many years; so you can imagine how pleased I was when I
heard your house had fallen on the Wicked Witch of the East. When you came to
me, I was willing to promise anything if you would only do away with the other
Witch; but, now that you have melted her, I am ashamed to say that I cannot
keep my promises."
"I think you are a
very bad man," said Dorothy.
"Oh, no, my dear;
I’m really a very good man, but I’m a very bad Wizard, I must admit."
"Can’t you give me
brains?" asked the Scarecrow.
"You don’t need
them. You are learning something every day. A baby has brains, but it doesn’t
know much. Experience is the only thing that brings knowledge, and the longer
you are on earth the more experience you are sure to get."
"That may all be
true," said the Scarecrow, "but I shall be very unhappy unless you
give me brains."
The false Wizard looked
at him carefully.
"Well," he
said with a sigh, "I’m not much of a magician, as I said; but if you will
come to me tomorrow morning, I will stuff your head with brains. I cannot tell
you how to use them, however; you must find that out for yourself."
"Oh, thank
you--thank you!" cried the Scarecrow. "I’ll find a way to use them,
never fear!"
"But how about my
courage?" asked the Lion anxiously.
"You have plenty
of courage, I am sure," answered Oz. "All you need is confidence in
yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. The
True courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage
you have in plenty."
"Perhaps I have,
but I’m scared just the same," said the Lion. "I shall really be very
unhappy unless you give me the sort of courage that makes one forget he is
afraid."
"Very well, I will
give you that sort of courage tomorrow," replied Oz.
"How about my
heart?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"Why, as for
that," answered Oz, "I think you are wrong to want a heart. It makes
most people unhappy. If you only knew it, you are in luck not to have a
heart."
"That must be a
matter of opinion," said the Tin Woodman. "For my part, I will bear
all the unhappiness without a murmur, if you will give me the heart."
"Very well,"
answered Oz meekly. "Come to me tomorrow and you shall have a heart. I
have played Wizard for so many years that I may as well continue the part a
little longer."
"And now,"
said Dorothy, "how am I to get back to Kansas?"
"We shall have to
think about that," replied the little man. "Give me two or three days
to consider the matter and I’ll try to find a way to carry you over the desert.
In the meantime you shall all be treated as my guests, and while you live in
the Palace my people will wait upon you and obey your slightest wish. There is
only one thing I ask in return for my help--such as it is. You must keep my
secret and tell no one I am a humbug."
They agreed to say
nothing of what they had learned, and went back to their rooms in high spirits.
Even Dorothy had hope that "The Great and Terrible Humbug," as she
called him, would find a way to send her back to Kansas, and if he did she was
willing to forgive him everything.
Next morning the
Scarecrow said to his friends:
"Congratulate me.
I am going to Oz to get my brains at last. When I return I shall be as other
men are."
"I have always
liked you as you were," said Dorothy simply.
"It is kind of you
to like a Scarecrow," he replied. "But surely you will think more of
me when you hear the splendid thoughts my new brain is going to turn out."
Then he said good-bye to them all in a cheerful voice and went to the Throne
Room, where he rapped upon the door.
"Come in,"
said Oz.
The Scarecrow went in
and found the little man sitting down by the window, engaged in deep thought.
"I have come for
my brains," remarked the Scarecrow, a little uneasily.
"Oh, yes; sit down
in that chair, please," replied Oz. "You must excuse me for taking
your head off, but I shall have to do it in order to put your brains in their
proper place."
"That’s all
right," said the Scarecrow. "You are quite welcome to take my head
off, as long as it will be a better one when you put it on again."
So the Wizard
unfastened his head and emptied out the straw. Then he entered the back room
and took up a measure of bran, which he mixed with a great many pins and
needles. Having shaken them together thoroughly, he filled the top of the
Scarecrow’s head with the mixture and stuffed the rest of the space with straw,
to hold it in place.
When he had fastened
the Scarecrow’s head on his body again he said to him, "Hereafter you will
be a great man, for I have given you a lot of bran-new brains."
The Scarecrow was both
pleased and proud at the fulfillment of his greatest wish, and having thanked
Oz warmly he went back to his friends.
Dorothy looked at him
curiously. His head was quite bulged out at the top with brains.
"How do you
feel?" she asked.
"I feel wise
indeed," he answered earnestly. "When I get used to my brains I shall
know everything."
"Why are those
needles and pins sticking out of your head?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"That is proof
that he is sharp," remarked the Lion.
"Well, I must go
to Oz and get my heart," said the Woodman. So he walked to the Throne Room
and knocked at the door.
"Come in,"
called Oz, and the Woodman entered and said, "I have come for my
heart."
"Very well,"
answered the little man. "But I shall have to cut a hole in your breast,
so I can put your heart in the right place. I hope it won’t hurt you."
"Oh, no,"
answered the Woodman. "I shall not feel it at all."
So Oz brought a pair of
tinsmith’s shears and cut a small, square hole in the left side of the Tin
Woodman’s breast. Then, going to a chest of drawers, he took out a pretty
heart, made entirely of silk and stuffed with sawdust.
"Isn’t it a
beauty?" he asked.
"It is,
indeed!" replied the Woodman, who was greatly pleased. "But is it a
kind heart?"
"Oh, very!"
answered Oz. He put the heart in the Woodman’s breast and then replaced the
square of tin, soldering it neatly together where it had been cut.
"There," said
he; "now you have a heart that any man might be proud of. I’m sorry I had
to put a patch on your breast, but it really couldn’t be helped."
"Never mind the
patch," exclaimed the happy Woodman. "I am very grateful to you, and
shall never forget your kindness."
"Don’t speak of
it," replied Oz.
Then the Tin Woodman
went back to his friends, who wished him every joy on account of his good fortune.
The Lion now walked to
the Throne Room and knocked at the door.
"Come in,"
said Oz.
"I have come for
my courage," announced the Lion, entering the room.
"Very well,"
answered the little man; "I will get it for you."
He went to a cupboard
and reaching up to a high shelf took down a square green bottle, the contents
of which he poured into a green-gold dish, beautifully carved. Placing this
before the Cowardly Lion, who sniffed at it as if he did not like it, the
Wizard said:
"Drink."
"What is it?"
asked the Lion.
"Well,"
answered Oz, "if it were inside of you, it would be courage. You know, of
course, that courage is always inside one; so that this really cannot be called
courage until you have swallowed it. Therefore I advise you to drink it as soon
as possible."
The Lion hesitated no
longer, but drank till the dish was empty.
"How do you feel
now?" asked Oz.
"Full of
courage," replied the Lion, who went joyfully back to his friends to tell
them of his good fortune.
Oz, left to himself,
smiled to think of his success in giving the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and
the Lion exactly what they thought they wanted. "How can I help being a
humbug," he said, "when all these people make me do things that
everybody knows can’t be done? It was easy to make the Scarecrow and the Lion
and the Woodman happy, because they imagined I could do anything. But it will
take more than imagination to carry Dorothy back to Kansas, and I’m sure I don’t
know how it can be done."
For three days Dorothy
heard nothing from Oz. These were sad days for the little girl, although her
friends were all quite happy and contented. The Scarecrow told them there were
wonderful thoughts in his head; but he would not say what they were because he
knew no one could understand them but himself. When the Tin Woodman walked
about he felt his heart rattling around in his breast; and he told Dorothy he
had discovered it to be a kinder and more tender heart than the one he had owned
when he was made of flesh. The Lion declared he was afraid of nothing on earth,
and would gladly face an army or a dozen of the fierce Kalidahs.
Thus each of the little
party was satisfied except Dorothy, who longed more than ever to get back to
Kansas.
On the fourth day, to
her great joy, Oz sent for her, and when she entered the Throne Room he greeted
her pleasantly:
"Sit down, my
dear; I think I have found the way to get you out of this country."
"And back to
Kansas?" she asked eagerly.
"Well, I’m not
sure about Kansas," said Oz, "for I haven’t the faintest notion which
way it lies. But the first thing to do is to cross the desert, and then it
should be easy to find your way home."
"How can I cross
the desert?" she inquired.
"Well, I’ll tell
you what I think," said the little man. "You see, when I came to this
country it was in a balloon. You also came through the air, being carried by a
cyclone. So I believe the best way to get across the desert will be through the
air. Now, it is quite beyond my powers to make a cyclone; but I’ve been
thinking the matter over, and I believe I can make a balloon."
"How?" asked
Dorothy.
"A balloon,"
said Oz, "is made of silk, which is coated with glue to keep the gas in
it. I have plenty of silk in the Palace, so it will be no trouble to make the
balloon. But in all this country there is no gas to fill the balloon with, to
make it float."
"If it won’t
float," remarked Dorothy, "it will be of no use to us."
"True,"
answered Oz. "But there is another way to make it float, which is to fill
it with hot air. Hot air isn’t as good as gas, for if the air should get cold
the balloon would come down in the desert, and we should be lost."
"We!"
exclaimed the girl. "Are you going with me?"
"Yes, of course,"
replied Oz. "I am tired of being such a humbug. If I should go out of this
Palace my people would soon discover I am not a Wizard, and then they would be
vexed with me for having deceived them. So I have to stay shut up in these
rooms all day, and it gets tiresome. I’d much rather go back to Kansas with you
and be in a circus again."
"I shall be glad
to have your company," said Dorothy.
"Thank you,"
he answered. "Now, if you will help me sew the silk together, we will
begin to work on our balloon."
So Dorothy took a
needle and thread, and as fast as Oz cut the strips of silk into proper shape
the girl sewed them neatly together. First there was a strip of light green
silk, then a strip of dark green and then a strip of emerald green; for Oz had
a fancy to make the balloon in different shades of the color about them. It
took three days to sew all the strips together, but when it was finished they
had a big bag of green silk more than twenty feet long.
Then Oz painted it on
the inside with a coat of thin glue, to make it airtight, after which he
announced that the balloon was ready.
"But we must have
a basket to ride in," he said. So he sent the soldier with the green
whiskers for a big clothes basket, which he fastened with many ropes to the bottom
of the balloon.
When it was all ready,
Oz sent word to his people that he was going to make a visit to a great brother
Wizard who lived in the clouds. The news spread rapidly throughout the city and
everyone came to see the wonderful sight.
Oz ordered the balloon
carried out in front of the Palace, and the people gazed upon it with much
curiosity. The Tin Woodman had chopped a big pile of wood, and now he made a
fire of it, and Oz held the bottom of the balloon over the fire so that the hot
air that arose from it would be caught in the silken bag. Gradually the balloon
swelled out and rose into the air, until finally the basket just touched the
ground.
Then Oz got into the
basket and said to all the people in a loud voice:
"I am now going
away to make a visit. While I am gone the Scarecrow will rule over you. I
command you to obey him as you would me."
The balloon was by this
time tugging hard at the rope that held it to the ground, for the air within it
was hot, and this made it so much lighter in weight than the air without that
it pulled hard to rise into the sky.
"Come,
Dorothy!" cried the Wizard. "Hurry up, or the balloon will fly
away."
"I can’t find Toto
anywhere," replied Dorothy, who did not wish to leave her little dog
behind. Toto had run into the crowd to bark at a kitten, and Dorothy at last
found him. She picked him up and ran towards the balloon.
She was within a few
steps of it, and Oz was holding out his hands to help her into the basket,
when, crack! went the ropes, and the balloon rose into the air without her.
"Come back!"
she screamed. "I want to go, too!"
"I can’t come
back, my dear," called Oz from the basket. "Good-bye!"
"Good-bye!"
shouted everyone, and all eyes were turned upward to where the Wizard was riding
in the basket, rising every moment farther and farther into the sky.
And that was the last
any of them ever saw of Oz, the Wonderful Wizard, though he may have reached
Omaha safely, and be there now, for all we know. But the people remembered him
lovingly, and said to one another:
"Oz was always our
friend. When he was here he built for us this beautiful Emerald City, and now
he is gone he has left the Wise Scarecrow to rule over us."
Still, for many days
they grieved over the loss of the Wonderful Wizard, and would not be comforted.
Dorothy wept bitterly
at the passing of her hope to get home to Kansas again; but when she thought it
all over she was glad she had not gone up in a balloon. And she also felt sorry
at losing Oz, and so did her companions.
The Tin Woodman came to
her and said:
"Truly I should be
ungrateful if I failed to mourn for the man who gave me my lovely heart. I
should like to cry a little because Oz is gone, if you will kindly wipe away my
tears, so that I shall not rust."
"With
pleasure," she answered, and brought a towel at once. Then the Tin Woodman
wept for several minutes, and she watched the tears carefully and wiped them
away with the towel. When he had finished, he thanked her kindly and oiled
himself thoroughly with his jeweled oil-can, to guard against mishap.
The Scarecrow was now
the ruler of the Emerald City, and although he was not a Wizard the people were
proud of him. "For," they said, "there is not another city in
all the world that is ruled by a stuffed man." And, so far as they knew,
they were quite right.
The morning after the
balloon had gone up with Oz, the four travelers met in the Throne Room and
talked matters over. The Scarecrow sat in the big throne and the others stood
respectfully before him.
"We are not so
unlucky," said the new ruler, "for this Palace and the Emerald City
belong to us, and we can do just as we please. When I remember that a short
time ago I was up on a pole in a farmer’s cornfield, and that now I am the
ruler of this beautiful City, I am quite satisfied with my lot."
"I also,"
said the Tin Woodman, "am well-pleased with my new heart; and, really,
that was the only thing I wished in all the world."
"For my part, I am
content in knowing I am as brave as any beast that ever lived, if not
braver," said the Lion modestly.
"If Dorothy would
only be contented to live in the Emerald City," continued the Scarecrow,
"we might all be happy together."
"But I don’t want
to live here," cried Dorothy. "I want to go to Kansas, and live with
Aunt Em and Uncle Henry."
"Well, then, what
can be done?" inquired the Woodman.
The Scarecrow decided
to think, and he thought so hard that the pins and needles began to stick out
of his brains. Finally he said:
"Why not call the
Winged Monkeys, and ask them to carry you over the desert?"
"I never thought
of that!" said Dorothy joyfully. "It’s just the thing. I’ll go at
once for the Golden Cap."
When she brought it
into the Throne Room she spoke the magic words, and soon the band of Winged
Monkeys flew in through the open window and stood beside her.
"This is the
second time you have called us," said the Monkey King, bowing before the
little girl. "What do you wish?"
"I want you to fly
with me to Kansas," said Dorothy.
But the Monkey King
shook his head.
"That cannot be
done," he said. "We belong to this country alone, and cannot leave
it. There has never been a Winged Monkey in Kansas yet, and I suppose there
never will be, for they don’t belong there. We shall be glad to serve you in
any way in our power, but we cannot cross the desert. Good-bye."
And with another bow,
the Monkey King spread his wings and flew away through the window, followed by
all his band.
Dorothy was ready to
cry with disappointment. "I have wasted the charm of the Golden Cap to no
purpose," she said, "for the Winged Monkeys cannot help me."
"It is certainly
too bad!" said the tender-hearted Woodman.
The Scarecrow was
thinking again, and his head bulged out so horribly that Dorothy feared it
would burst.
"Let us call in
the soldier with the green whiskers," he said, "and ask his
advice."
So the soldier was
summoned and entered the Throne Room timidly, for while Oz was alive he never
was allowed to come farther than the door.
"This little
girl," said the Scarecrow to the soldier, "wishes to cross the
desert. How can she do so?"
"I cannot
tell," answered the soldier, "for nobody has ever crossed the desert,
unless it is Oz himself."
"Is there no one
who can help me?" asked Dorothy earnestly.
"Glinda
might," he suggested.
"Who is
Glinda?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"The Witch of the
South. She is the most powerful of all the Witches, and rules over the
Quadlings. Besides, her castle stands on the edge of the desert, so she may
know a way to cross it."
"Glinda is a Good
Witch, isn’t she?" asked the child.
"The Quadlings
think she is good," said the soldier, "and she is kind to everyone. I
have heard that Glinda is a beautiful woman, who knows how to keep young in
spite of the many years she has lived."
"How can I get to
her castle?" asked Dorothy.
"The road is
straight to the South," he answered, "but it is said to be full of
dangers to travelers. There are wild beasts in the woods, and a race of queer
men who do not like strangers to cross their country. For this reason none of
the Quadlings ever come to the Emerald City."
The soldier then left
them and the Scarecrow said:
"It seems, in
spite of dangers, that the best thing Dorothy can do is to travel to the Land
of the South and ask Glinda to help her. For, of course, if Dorothy stays here
she will never get back to Kansas."
"You must have
been thinking again," remarked the Tin Woodman.
"I have,"
said the Scarecrow.
"I shall go with
Dorothy," declared the Lion, "for I am tired of your city and long
for the woods and the country again. I am really a wild beast, you know.
Besides, Dorothy will need someone to protect her."
"That is
true," agreed the Woodman. "My axe may be of service to her; so I
also will go with her to the Land of the South."
"When shall we
start?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Are you
going?" they asked, in surprise.
"Certainly. If it
wasn’t for Dorothy I should never have had brains. She lifted me from the pole
in the cornfield and brought me to the Emerald City. So my good luck is all due
to her, and I shall never leave her until she starts back to Kansas for good
and all."
"Thank you,"
said Dorothy gratefully. "You are all very kind to me. But I should like
to start as soon as possible."
"We shall go
tomorrow morning," returned the Scarecrow. "So now let us all get
ready, for it will be a long journey."
The next morning
Dorothy kissed the pretty green girl good-bye, and they all shook hands with
the soldier with the green whiskers, who had walked with them as far as the
gate. When the Guardian of the Gate saw them again he wondered greatly that
they could leave the beautiful City to get into new trouble. But he at once
unlocked their spectacles, which he put back into the green box, and gave them
many good wishes to carry with them.
"You are now our
ruler," he said to the Scarecrow; "so you must come back to us as
soon as possible."
"I certainly shall
if I am able," the Scarecrow replied; "but I must help Dorothy to get
home, first."
As Dorothy bade the
good-natured Guardian a last farewell she said:
"I have been very
kindly treated in your lovely City, and everyone has been good to me. I cannot
tell you how grateful I am."
"Don’t try, my
dear," he answered. "We should like to keep you with us, but if it is
your wish to return to Kansas, I hope you will find a way." He then opened
the gate of the outer wall, and they walked forth and started upon their
journey.
The sun shone brightly
as our friends turned their faces toward the Land of the South. They were all
in the best of spirits, and laughed and chatted together. Dorothy was once more
filled with the hope of getting home, and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman
were glad to be of use to her. As for the Lion, he sniffed the fresh air with
delight and whisked his tail from side to side in pure joy at being in the
country again, while Toto ran around them and chased the moths and butterflies,
barking merrily all the time.
"City life does
not agree with me at all," remarked the Lion, as they walked along at a
brisk pace. "I have lost much flesh since I lived there, and now I am
anxious for a chance to show the other beasts how courageous I have
grown."
They now turned and
took a last look at the Emerald City. All they could see was a mass of towers
and steeples behind the green walls, and high up above everything the spires
and dome of the Palace of Oz.
"Oz was not such a
bad Wizard, after all," said the Tin Woodman, as he felt his heart
rattling around in his breast.
"He knew how to
give me brains, and very good brains, too," said the Scarecrow.
"If Oz had taken a
dose of the same courage he gave me," added the Lion, "he would have
been a brave man."
Dorothy said nothing.
Oz had not kept the promise he made her, but he had done his best, so she
forgave him. As he said, he was a good man, even if he was a bad Wizard.
The first day’s journey
was through the green fields and bright flowers that stretched about the
Emerald City on every side. They slept that night on the grass, with nothing
but the stars over them; and they rested very well indeed.
In the morning they
traveled on until they came to a thick wood. There was no way of going around
it, for it seemed to extend to the right and left as far as they could see;
and, besides, they did not dare change the direction of their journey for fear
of getting lost. So they looked for the place where it would be easiest to get
into the forest.
The Scarecrow, who was
in the lead, finally discovered a big tree with such wide-spreading branches
that there was room for the party to pass underneath. So he walked forward to
the tree, but just as he came under the first branches they bent down and
twined around him, and the next minute he was raised from the ground and flung
headlong among his fellow travelers.
This did not hurt the
Scarecrow, but it surprised him, and he looked rather dizzy when Dorothy picked
him up.
"Here is another
space between the trees," called the Lion.
"Let me try it
first," said the Scarecrow, "for it doesn’t hurt me to get thrown
about." He walked up to another tree, as he spoke, but its branches
immediately seized him and tossed him back again.
"This is
strange," exclaimed Dorothy. "What shall we do?"
"The trees seem to
have made up their minds to fight us, and stop our journey," remarked the
Lion.
"I believe I will
try it myself," said the Woodman, and shouldering his axe, he marched up
to the first tree that had handled the Scarecrow so roughly. When a big branch
bent down to seize him the Woodman chopped at it so fiercely that he cut it in
two. At once the tree began shaking all its branches as if in pain, and the Tin
Woodman passed safely under it.
"Come on!" he
shouted to the others. "Be quick!" They all ran forward and passed
under the tree without injury, except Toto, who was caught by a small branch
and shaken until he howled. But the Woodman promptly chopped off the branch and
set the little dog free.
The other trees of the
forest did nothing to keep them back, so they made up their minds that only the
first row of trees could bend down their branches, and that probably these were
the policemen of the forest, and given this wonderful power in order to keep
strangers out of it.
The four travelers
walked with ease through the trees until they came to the farther edge of the
wood. Then, to their surprise, they found before them a high wall which seemed
to be made of white china. It was smooth, like the surface of a dish, and
higher than their heads.
"What shall we do
now?" asked Dorothy.
"I will make a
ladder," said the Tin Woodman, "for we certainly must climb over the
wall."
While the Woodman was making
a ladder from wood which he found in the forest Dorothy lay down and slept, for
she was tired by the long walk. The Lion also curled himself up to sleep and
Toto lay beside him.
The Scarecrow watched
the Woodman while he worked, and said to him:
"I cannot think
why this wall is here, nor what it is made of."
"Rest your brains
and do not worry about the wall," replied the Woodman. "When we have
climbed over it, we shall know what is on the other side."
After a time the ladder
was finished. It looked clumsy, but the Tin Woodman was sure it was strong and
would answer their purpose. The Scarecrow waked Dorothy and the Lion and Toto,
and told them that the ladder was ready. The Scarecrow climbed up the ladder
first, but he was so awkward that Dorothy had to follow close behind and keep
him from falling off. When he got his head over the top of the wall the
Scarecrow said, "Oh, my!"
"Go on,"
exclaimed Dorothy.
So the Scarecrow
climbed farther up and sat down on the top of the wall, and Dorothy put her
head over and cried, "Oh, my!" just as the Scarecrow had done.
Then Toto came up, and
immediately began to bark, but Dorothy made him be still.
The Lion climbed the
ladder next, and the Tin Woodman came last; but both of them cried, "Oh,
my!" as soon as they looked over the wall. When they were all sitting in a
row on the top of the wall, they looked down and saw a strange sight.
Before them was a great
stretch of country having a floor as smooth and shining and white as the bottom
of a big platter. Scattered around were many houses made entirely of china and
painted in the brightest colors. These houses were quite small, the biggest of
them reaching only as high as Dorothy’s waist. There were also pretty little
barns, with china fences around them; and many cows and sheep and horses and
pigs and chickens, all made of china, were standing about in groups.
But the strangest of
all were the people who lived in this queer country. There were milkmaids and
shepherdesses, with brightly colored bodices and golden spots all over their
gowns; and princesses with most gorgeous frocks of silver and gold and purple;
and shepherds dressed in knee breeches with pink and yellow and blue stripes
down them, and golden buckles on their shoes; and princes with jeweled crowns
upon their heads, wearing ermine robes and satin doublets; and funny clowns in
ruffled gowns, with round red spots upon their cheeks and tall, pointed caps.
And, strangest of all, these people were all made of china, even to their
clothes, and were so small that the tallest of them was no higher than Dorothy’s
knee.
No one did so much as
look at the travelers at first, except one little purple china dog with an
extra-large head, which came to the wall and barked at them in a tiny voice,
afterwards running away again.
"How shall we get
down?" asked Dorothy.
They found the ladder
so heavy they could not pull it up, so the Scarecrow fell off the wall and the
others jumped down upon him so that the hard floor would not hurt their feet.
Of course they took pains not to light on his head and get the pins in their
feet. When all were safely down they picked up the Scarecrow, whose body was
quite flattened out, and patted his straw into shape again.
"We must cross
this strange place in order to get to the other side," said Dorothy,
"for it would be unwise for us to go any other way except due South."
They began walking
through the country of the china people, and the first thing they came to was a
china milkmaid milking a china cow. As they drew near, the cow suddenly gave a
kick and kicked over the stool, the pail, and even the milkmaid herself, and
all fell on the china ground with a great clatter.
Dorothy was shocked to
see that the cow had broken her leg off, and that the pail was lying in several
small pieces, while the poor milkmaid had a nick in her left elbow.
"There!"
cried the milkmaid angrily. "See what you have done! My cow has broken her
leg, and I must take her to the mender’s shop and have it glued on again. What
do you mean by coming here and frightening my cow?"
"I’m very
sorry," returned Dorothy. "Please forgive us."
But the pretty milkmaid
was much too vexed to make any answer. She picked up the leg sulkily and led
her cow away, the poor animal limping on three legs. As she left them the
milkmaid cast many reproachful glances over her shoulder at the clumsy
strangers, holding her nicked elbow close to her side.
Dorothy was quite
grieved at this mishap.
"We must be very
careful here," said the kind-hearted Woodman, "or we may hurt these
pretty little people so they will never get over it."
A little farther on
Dorothy met a most beautifully dressed young Princess, who stopped short as she
saw the strangers and started to run away.
Dorothy wanted to see
more of the Princess, so she ran after her. But the china girl cried out:
"Don’t chase me!
Don’t chase me!"
She had such a
frightened little voice that Dorothy stopped and said, "Why not?"
"Because,"
answered the Princess, also stopping, a safe distance away, "if I run I
may fall down and break myself."
"But could you not
be mended?" asked the girl.
"Oh, yes; but one
is never so pretty after being mended, you know," replied the Princess.
"I suppose
not," said Dorothy.
"Now there is Mr.
Joker, one of our clowns," continued the china lady, "who is always
trying to stand upon his head. He has broken himself so often that he is mended
in a hundred places, and doesn’t look at all pretty. Here he comes now, so you
can see for yourself."
Indeed, a jolly little
clown came walking toward them, and Dorothy could see that in spite of his
pretty clothes of red and yellow and green he was completely covered with
cracks, running every which way and showing plainly that he had been mended in
many places.
The Clown put his hands
in his pockets, and after puffing out his cheeks and nodding his head at them
saucily, he said:
"My lady fair,
Why do you stare
At poor old Mr. Joker?
You’re quite as stiff
And prim as if
You’d eaten up a
poker!"
"Be quiet,
sir!" said the Princess. "Can’t you see these are strangers, and
should be treated with respect?"
"Well, that’s
respect, I expect," declared the Clown, and immediately stood upon his
head.
"Don’t mind Mr.
Joker," said the Princess to Dorothy. "He is considerably cracked in
his head, and that makes him foolish."
"Oh, I don’t mind
him a bit," said Dorothy. "But you are so beautiful," she
continued, "that I am sure I could love you dearly. Won’t you let me carry
you back to Kansas, and stand you on Aunt Em’s mantel? I could carry you in my
basket."
"That would make
me very unhappy," answered the china Princess. "You see, here in our
country we live contentedly, and can talk and move around as we please. But
whenever any of us are taken away our joints at once stiffen, and we can only
stand straight and look pretty. Of course that is all that is expected of us
when we are on mantels and cabinets and drawing-room tables, but our lives are
much pleasanter here in our own country."
"I would not make
you unhappy for all the world!" exclaimed Dorothy. "So I’ll just say
good-bye."
"Good-bye,"
replied the Princess.
They walked carefully
through the china country. The little animals and all the people scampered out
of their way, fearing the strangers would break them, and after an hour or so
the travelers reached the other side of the country and came to another china
wall.
It was not so high as
the first, however, and by standing upon the Lion’s back they all managed to
scramble to the top. Then the Lion gathered his legs under him and jumped on
the wall; but just as he jumped, he upset a china church with his tail and
smashed it all to pieces.
"That was too
bad," said Dorothy, "but really I think we were lucky in not doing
these little people more harm than breaking a cow’s leg and a church. They are
all so brittle!"
"They are,
indeed," said the Scarecrow, "and I am thankful I am made of straw
and cannot be easily damaged. There are worse things in the world than being a
Scarecrow."
After climbing down
from the china wall the travelers found themselves in a disagreeable country,
full of bogs and marshes and covered with tall, rank grass. It was difficult to
walk without falling into muddy holes, for the grass was so thick that it hid
them from sight. However, by carefully picking their way, they got safely along
until they reached solid ground. But here the country seemed wilder than ever,
and after a long and tiresome walk through the underbrush they entered another
forest, where the trees were bigger and older than any they had ever seen.
"This forest is perfectly
delightful," declared the Lion, looking around him with joy. "Never
have I seen a more beautiful place."
"It seems
gloomy," said the Scarecrow.
"Not a bit of
it," answered the Lion. "I should like to live here all my life. See
how soft the dried leaves are under your feet and how rich and green the moss
is that clings to these old trees. Surely no wild beast could wish a pleasanter
home."
"Perhaps there are
wild beasts in the forest now," said Dorothy.
"I suppose there
are," returned the Lion, "but I do not see any of them about."
They walked through the
forest until it became too dark to go any farther. Dorothy and Toto and the
Lion lay down to sleep, while the Woodman and the Scarecrow kept watch over
them as usual.
When morning came, they
started again. Before they had gone far they heard a low rumble, as of the
growling of many wild animals. Toto whimpered a little, but none of the others
was frightened, and they kept along the well-trodden path until they came to an
opening in the wood, in which were gathered hundreds of beasts of every
variety. There were tigers and elephants and bears and wolves and foxes and all
the others in the natural history, and for a moment Dorothy was afraid. But the
Lion explained that the animals were holding a meeting, and he judged by their
snarling and growling that they were in great trouble.
As he spoke several of
the beasts caught sight of him, and at once the great assemblage hushed as if
by magic. The biggest of the tigers came up to the Lion and bowed, saying:
"Welcome, O King
of Beasts! You have come in good time to fight our enemy and bring peace to all
the animals of the forest once more."
"What is your
trouble?" asked the Lion quietly.
"We are all
threatened," answered the tiger, "by a fierce enemy which has lately
come into this forest. It is a most tremendous monster, like a great spider,
with a body as big as an elephant and legs as long as a tree trunk. It has
eight of these long legs, and as the monster crawls through the forest he seizes
an animal with a leg and drags it to his mouth, where he eats it as a spider
does a fly. Not one of us is safe while this fierce creature is alive, and we
had called a meeting to decide how to take care of ourselves when you came
among us."
The Lion thought for a
moment.
"Are there any
other lions in this forest?" he asked.
"No; there were
some, but the monster has eaten them all. And, besides, they were none of them
nearly so large and brave as you."
"If I put an end
to your enemy, will you bow down to me and obey me as King of the Forest?"
inquired the Lion.
"We will do that
gladly," returned the tiger; and all the other beasts roared with a mighty
roar: "We will!"
"Where is this
great spider of yours now?" asked the Lion.
"Yonder, among the
oak trees," said the tiger, pointing with his forefoot.
"Take good care of
these friends of mine," said the Lion, "and I will go at once to
fight the monster."
He bade his comrades
good-bye and marched proudly away to do battle with the enemy.
The great spider was
lying asleep when the Lion found him, and it looked so ugly that its foe turned
up his nose in disgust. It’s legs were quite as long as the tiger had said, and
its body covered with coarse black hair. It had a great mouth, with a row of
sharp teeth a foot long; but its head was joined to the pudgy body by a neck as
slender as a wasp’s waist. This gave the Lion a hint of the best way to attack
the creature, and as he knew it was easier to fight it asleep than awake, he
gave a great spring and landed directly upon the monster’s back. Then, with one
blow of his heavy paw, all armed with sharp claws, he knocked the spider’s head
from its body. Jumping down, he watched it until the long legs stopped
wiggling, when he knew it was quite dead.
The Lion went back to
the opening where the beasts of the forest were waiting for him and said
proudly:
"You need fear
your enemy no longer."
Then the beasts bowed
down to the Lion as their King, and he promised to come back and rule over them
as soon as Dorothy was safely on her way to Kansas.
The four travelers
passed through the rest of the forest in safety, and when they came out from
its gloom saw before them a steep hill, covered from top to bottom with great
pieces of rock.
"That will be a
hard climb," said the Scarecrow, "but we must get over the hill,
nevertheless."
So he led the way and
the others followed. They had nearly reached the first rock when they heard a
rough voice cry out, "Keep back!"
"Who are
you?" asked the Scarecrow.
Then a head showed
itself over the rock and the same voice said, "This hill belongs to us,
and we don’t allow anyone to cross it."
"But we must cross
it," said the Scarecrow. "We’re going to the country of the
Quadlings."
"But you shall
not!" replied the voice, and there stepped from behind the rock the
strangest man the travelers had ever seen.
He was quite short and
stout and had a big head, which was flat at the top and supported by a thick
neck full of wrinkles. But he had no arms at all, and, seeing this, the
Scarecrow did not fear that so helpless a creature could prevent them from
climbing the hill. So he said, "I’m sorry not to do as you wish, but we
must pass over your hill whether you like it or not," and he walked boldly
forward.
As quick as lightning
the man’s head shot forward and his neck stretched out until the top of the
head, where it was flat, struck the Scarecrow in the middle and sent him
tumbling, over and over, down the hill. Almost as quickly as it came the head
went back to the body, and the man laughed harshly as he said, "It isn’t
as easy as you think!"
A chorus of boisterous
laughter came from the other rocks, and Dorothy saw hundreds of the armless
Hammer-Heads upon the hillside, one behind every rock.
The Lion became quite
angry at the laughter caused by the Scarecrow’s mishap, and giving a loud roar
that echoed like thunder, he dashed up the hill.
Again a head shot
swiftly out, and the great Lion went rolling down the hill as if he had been
struck by a cannon ball.
Dorothy ran down and
helped the Scarecrow to his feet, and the Lion came up to her, feeling rather
bruised and sore, and said, "It is useless to fight people with shooting
heads; no one can withstand them."
"What can we do,
then?" she asked.
"Call the Winged
Monkeys," suggested the Tin Woodman. "You have still the right to
command them once more."
"Very well,"
she answered, and putting on the Golden Cap she uttered the magic words. The
Monkeys were as prompt as ever, and in a few moments the entire band stood
before her.
"What are your
commands?" inquired the King of the Monkeys, bowing low.
"Carry us over the
hill to the country of the Quadlings," answered the girl.
"It shall be
done," said the King, and at once the Winged Monkeys caught the four
travelers and Toto up in their arms and flew away with them. As they passed
over the hill the Hammer-Heads yelled with vexation, and shot their heads high
in the air, but they could not reach the Winged Monkeys, which carried Dorothy
and her comrades safely over the hill and set them down in the beautiful
country of the Quadlings.
"This is the last
time you can summon us," said the leader to Dorothy; "so good-bye and
good luck to you."
"Good-bye, and
thank you very much," returned the girl; and the Monkeys rose into the air
and were out of sight in a twinkling.
The country of the
Quadlings seemed rich and happy. There was field upon field of ripening grain,
with well-paved roads running between, and pretty rippling brooks with strong
bridges across them. The fences and houses and bridges were all painted bright
red, just as they had been painted yellow in the country of the Winkies and
blue in the country of the Munchkins. The Quadlings themselves, who were short
and fat and looked chubby and good-natured, were dressed all in red, which
showed bright against the green grass and the yellowing grain.
The Monkeys had set
them down near a farmhouse, and the four travelers walked up to it and knocked
at the door. It was opened by the farmer’s wife, and when Dorothy asked for
something to eat the woman gave them all a good dinner, with three kinds of
cake and four kinds of cookies, and a bowl of milk for Toto.
"How far is it to
the Castle of Glinda?" asked the child.
"It is not a great
way," answered the farmer’s wife. "Take the road to the South and you
will soon reach it.
Thanking the good
woman, they started afresh and walked by the fields and across the pretty
bridges until they saw before them a very beautiful Castle. Before the gates
were three young girls, dressed in handsome red uniforms trimmed with gold
braid; and as Dorothy approached, one of them said to her:
"Why have you come
to the South Country?"
"To see the Good
Witch who rules here," she answered. "Will you take me to her?"
"Let me have your
name, and I will ask Glinda if she will receive you." They told who they
were, and the girl soldier went into the Castle. After a few moments she came
back to say that Dorothy and the others were to be admitted at once.
Before they went to see
Glinda, however, they were taken to a room of the Castle, where Dorothy washed
her face and combed her hair, and the Lion shook the dust out of his mane, and
the Scarecrow patted himself into his best shape, and the Woodman polished his
tin and oiled his joints.
When they were all
quite presentable they followed the soldier girl into a big room where the Witch
Glinda sat upon a throne of rubies.
She was both beautiful
and young to their eyes. Her hair was a rich red in color and fell in flowing
ringlets over her shoulders. Her dress was pure white but her eyes were blue,
and they looked kindly upon the little girl.
"What can I do for
you, my child?" she asked.
Dorothy told the Witch
all her story: how the cyclone had brought her to the Land of Oz, how she had
found her companions, and of the wonderful adventures they had met with.
"My greatest wish
now," she added, "is to get back to Kansas, for Aunt Em will surely
think something dreadful has happened to me, and that will make her put on
mourning; and unless the crops are better this year than they were last, I am
sure Uncle Henry cannot afford it."
Glinda leaned forward
and kissed the sweet, upturned face of the loving little girl.
"Bless your dear
heart," she said, "I am sure I can tell you of a way to get back to
Kansas." Then she added, "But, if I do, you must give me the Golden
Cap."
"Willingly!"
exclaimed Dorothy; "indeed, it is of no use to me now, and when you have
it you can command the Winged Monkeys three times."
"And I think I
shall need their service just those three times," answered Glinda,
smiling.
Dorothy then gave her
the Golden Cap, and the Witch said to the Scarecrow, "What will you do
when Dorothy has left us?"
"I will return to
the Emerald City," he replied, "for Oz has made me its ruler and the
people like me. The only thing that worries me is how to cross the hill of the
Hammer-Heads."
"By means of the
Golden Cap I shall command the Winged Monkeys to carry you to the gates of the
Emerald City," said Glinda, "for it would be a shame to deprive the
people of so wonderful a ruler."
"Am I really
wonderful?" asked the Scarecrow.
"You are
unusual," replied Glinda.
Turning to the Tin
Woodman, she asked, "What will become of you when Dorothy leaves this
country?"
He leaned on his axe
and thought a moment. Then he said, "The Winkies were very kind to me, and
wanted me to rule over them after the Wicked Witch died. I am fond of the
Winkies, and if I could get back again to the Country of the West, I should
like nothing better than to rule over them forever."
"My second command
to the Winged Monkeys," said Glinda "will be that they carry you
safely to the land of the Winkies. Your brain may not be so large to look at as
those of the Scarecrow, but you are really brighter than he is--when you are
well polished--and I am sure you will rule the Winkies wisely and well."
Then the Witch looked
at the big, shaggy Lion and asked, "When Dorothy has returned to her own
home, what will become of you?"
"Over the hill of
the Hammer-Heads," he answered, "lies a grand old forest, and all the
beasts that live there have made me their King. If I could only get back to
this forest, I would pass my life very happily there."
"My third command
to the Winged Monkeys," said Glinda, "shall be to carry you to your
forest. Then, having used up the powers of the Golden Cap, I shall give it to
the King of the Monkeys, that he and his band may thereafter be free for
evermore."
The Scarecrow and the
Tin Woodman and the Lion now thanked the Good Witch earnestly for her kindness;
and Dorothy exclaimed:
"You are certainly
as good as you are beautiful! But you have not yet told me how to get back to
Kansas."
"Your Silver Shoes
will carry you over the desert," replied Glinda. "If you had known
their power you could have gone back to your Aunt Em the very first day you
came to this country."
"But then I should
not have had my wonderful brains!" cried the Scarecrow. "I might have
passed my whole life in the farmer’s cornfield."
"And I should not
have had my lovely heart," said the Tin Woodman. "I might have stood
and rusted in the forest till the end of the world."
"And I should have
lived a coward forever," declared the Lion, "and no beast in all the
forest would have had a good word to say to me."
"This is all
true," said Dorothy, "and I am glad I was of use to these good
friends. But now that each of them has had what he most desired, and each is
happy in having a kingdom to rule besides, I think I should like to go back to
Kansas."
"The Silver
Shoes," said the Good Witch, "have wonderful powers. And one of the
most curious things about them is that they can carry you to any place in the
world in three steps, and each step will be made in the wink of an eye. All you
have to do is to knock the heels together three times and command the shoes to
carry you wherever you wish to go."
"If that is
so," said the child joyfully, "I will ask them to carry me back to
Kansas at once."
She threw her arms
around the Lion’s neck and kissed him, patting his big head tenderly. Then she
kissed the Tin Woodman, who was weeping in a way most dangerous to his joints.
But she hugged the soft, stuffed body of the Scarecrow in her arms instead of
kissing his painted face, and found she was crying herself at this sorrowful
parting from her loving comrades.
Glinda the Good stepped
down from her ruby throne to give the little girl a good-bye kiss, and Dorothy
thanked her for all the kindness she had shown to her friends and herself.
Dorothy now took Toto
up solemnly in her arms, and having said one last good-bye she clapped the
heels of her shoes together three times, saying:
"Take me home to
Aunt Em!"
* * * * * Instantly she
was whirling through the air, so swiftly that all she could see or feel was the
wind whistling past her ears.
The Silver Shoes took
but three steps, and then she stopped so suddenly that she rolled over upon the
grass several times before she knew where she was.
At length, however, she
sat up and looked about her.
"Good
gracious!" she cried.
For she was sitting on
the broad Kansas prairie, and just before her was the new farmhouse Uncle Henry
built after the cyclone had carried away the old one. Uncle Henry was milking
the cows in the barnyard, and Toto had jumped out of her arms and was running
toward the barn, barking furiously.
Dorothy stood up and
found she was in her stocking-feet. For the Silver Shoes had fallen off in her
flight through the air, and were lost forever in the desert.
Aunt Em had just come
out of the house to water the cabbages when she looked up and saw Dorothy
running toward her.
"My darling
child!" she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and covering her
face with kisses. "Where in the world did you come from?"
"From the Land of
Oz," said Dorothy gravely. "And here is Toto, too. And oh, Aunt Em! I’m
so glad to be at home again!"
Here ends the story of
"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz," which was written by L. Frank Baum and
illustrated by William Wallace Denslow. The engravings were made by the
Illinois Engraving Company, the paper was supplied by Dwight Brothers Paper
Company, and Mssrs. A. R. Barnes & Company printed the book for the
publishers, the George M. Hill Company, completing it on the fifteenth day of
May, in the year nineteen hundred.