Ocenite etot tekst:






     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.

                                                             L. Frank Baum
                                                     Chicago, April, 1900.









     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, forI 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?" 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?" inquired 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  pathwaybetween  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 morningall 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  solemn  Voice,  that  seemed  to  come  from
somewhere near the top of the great dome, and it said:
     "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. Its  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!"

Last-modified: Mon, 14 Feb 2000 17:24:16 GMT

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