all, it is no more dangerous to face those reckless  girls  than  to
ride this fiery, untamed wooden horse!"
     "Perhaps you are right," observed his Majesty. "But, for my part, not
being a soldier, I am fond of danger. Now, my boy, you must  mount  first.
And please sit as close to the horse's neck as possible."
     Tip climbed quickly to his place, and the Soldier and  the  Scarecrow
managed to hoist the Pumpkinhead to a seat just behind him. There remained
so little space for the King that he was liable to fall off as soon as the
horse started.
     "Fetch a clothesline," said the King to his Army,  "and  tie  us  all
together. Then if one falls off we will all fall off."
     And while the Soldier  was  gone  for  the  clothesline  his  Majesty
continued, "it is well for me to be careful, for my very existence  is  in
danger."
     "I have to be as careful as you do," said Jack.
     "Not exactly," replied the Scarecrow. "for if  anything  happened  to
me, that would be the end of me. But if anything  happened  to  you,  they
could use you for seed."
     The Soldier now returned with a long line and tied all  three  firmly
together, also lashing them to the body of the Saw-Horse; so there  seemed
little danger of their tumbling off.
     "Now throw open the gates," commanded the  Scarecrow,  "and  we  will
make a dash to liberty or to death."
     The courtyard in which they were standing was located in  the  center
of the great palace, which surrounded it on all sides. But in one place  a
passage led to an outer gateway, which the Soldier had barred by order  of
his sovereign. It was through this gateway his Majesty proposed to escape,
and the Royal Army now led the Saw-Horse along the  passage  and  unbarred
the gate, which swung backward with a loud crash.
     "Now," said Tip to the horse, "you must save us all. Run as  fast  as
you can for the gate of the City, and don't let anything stop you."
     "All right!" answered the Saw-Horse,  gruffly,  and  dashed  away  so
suddenly that Tip had to gasp for breath and hold firmly to  the  post  he
had driven into the creature's neck.
     Several of the girls, who stood outside  guarding  the  palace,  were
knocked over by the Saw-Horse's mad rush. Others ran screaming out of  the
way, and only one or two jabbed their knitting-needles frantically at  the
escaping prisoners. Tip got one small prick in his left arm, which smarted
for an hour afterward; but the needles had no effect upon the Scarecrow or
Jack Pumpkinhead, who never even suspected they were being prodded.
     As for the Saw-Horse, he made a wonderful record  upsetting  a  fruit
cart, overturning several meek looking men, and finally bowling  over  the
new Guardian of the Gate - a fussy little fat woman appointed  by  General
Jinjur.
     Nor did the impetuous charger stop then. Once outside  the  walls  of
the Emerald City he dashed along the  road  to  the  West  with  fast  and
violent leaps that shook  the  breath  out  of  the  boy  and  filled  the
Scarecrow with wonder.
     Jack had ridden at this mad rate once before,  so  he  devoted  every
effort to holding, with both hands,  his  pumpkin  head  upon  its  stick,
enduring meantime the dreadful jolting with the courage of a philosopher.
     "Slow him up! Slow him up!" shouted the Scarecrow. "My straw  is  all
shaking down into my legs."
     But Tip had no breath to speak, so the Saw-Horse continued  his  wild
career unchecked and with unabated speed.
     Presently they came to the banks of a wide river, and without a pause
the wooden steed gave one final leap and launched them all in mid-air.
     A second later they were rolling, splashing and bobbing about in  the
water, the horse struggling frantically to find a rest for  its  feet  and
its riders being first plunged beneath the rapid current and then floating
upon the surface like corks.



        The Journey to the Tin Woodman

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


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



        A Nickel-Plated Emperor

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



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

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

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

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



        A Highly Magnified History

     "It is but honest that I should acknowledge at the  beginning  of  my
recital that I was born an ordinary Woggle-Bug," began the creature, in  a
frank and friendly tone. "Knowing no better, I used my arms as well as  my
legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid  among  the
roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects smaller than
myself to feed upon.
     "The chill nights rendered me stiff and motionless,  for  I  wore  no
clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new  life  and
restored me to activity. A  horrible  existence  is  this,  but  you  must
remember it is the regular ordained existence of Woggle-Bugs, as  well  as
of many other tiny creatures that inhabit the earth.
     "But Destiny had singled me out, humble though I was, for  a  grander
fate! One day I crawled near to a country school house, and  my  curiosity
being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, I made bold to
enter and creep along a crack between two boards until I reached  the  far
end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat the master at  his
desk.
     "No one noticed so small a creature as a Woggle-Bug, and when I found
that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine,  I
resolved to establish my future home beside it. So I found a charming nest
between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months.
     "Professor Nowitall is, doubtless, the most  famous  scholar  in  the
land of Oz, and after a few days I began to listen  to  the  lectures  and
discourses he gave his pupils. Not one of them was more attentive than the
humble, unnoticed Woggle-Bug, and  I  acquired  in  this  way  a  fund  of
knowledge that I will myself confess is simply marvelous. That  is  why  I
place 'T.E.' Thoroughly Educated upon my cards; for my greatest pride lies
in the fact that the world cannot produce another Woggle-Bug with a  tenth
part of my own culture and erudition."
     "I do not blame you," said the Scarecrow. "Education is a thing to be
proud of. I'm educated myself. The mess of brains given me  by  the  Great
Wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled."
     "Nevertheless," interrupted the Tin Woodman,  "a  good  heart  is,  I
believe, much more desirable than education or brains."
     "To me," said the Saw-Horse, "a  good  leg  is  more  desirable  than
either."
     "Could seeds be considered in the  light  of  brains?"  enquired  the
Pumpkinhead, abruptly.
     "Keep quiet!" commanded Tip, sternly.
     "Very well, dear father," answered the obedient Jack.
     The Woggle-Bug listened patiently -  even  respectfully  -  to  these
remarks, and then resumed his story.
     "I must have lived fully three years in  that  secluded  school-house
hearth," said he, "drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of  limpid
knowledge before me."
     "Quite  poetical,"  commented  the  Scarecrow,   nodding   his   head
approvingly.
     "But one, day" continued the Bug, "a marvelous circumstance  occurred
that altered my very existence and brought me to my  present  pinnacle  of
greatness. The Professor discovered me in the act of crawling  across  the
hearth, and before I could escape he had caught me between his  thumb  and
forefinger.
     "'My dear children,' said he, 'I have captured a Woggle-Bug - a  very
rare and interesting specimen. Do any of you know what a Woggle-Bug is?'
     "'No!' yelled the scholars, in chorus.
     "'Then,'  said  the  Professor,   'I   will   get   out   my   famous
magnifying-glass and throw the insect upon a screen in a  highly-magnified
condition, that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction  and
become acquainted with its habits and manner of life.'
     "He then brought from a  cupboard  a  most  curious  instrument,  and
before I could realize what had happened I  found  myself  thrown  upon  a
screen in a highly-magnified state - even as you now behold me.
     "The students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward
to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the  sill  of
an open window where they could see more plainly.
     "'Behold!'  cried   the   Professor,   in   a   loud   voice,   'this
highly-magnified Woggle-Bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!
'
     "Being Thoroughly  Educated,  and  knowing  what  is  required  of  a
cultured gentleman, at this juncture I stood upright and, placing my  hand
upon my bosom, made a very polite bow. My action, being  unexpected,  must
have startled  them,  for  one  of  the  little