The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Introduction

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.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Chapter I

The Cyclone

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.

Chapter II

The Council with the Munchkins

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.

Chapter III

How Dorothy Saved the Scarecrow

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 nearby, 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.”

Chapter IV

The Road Through the Forest

After a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking grew so

difficult that the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricks,

which were here very uneven. Sometimes, indeed, they were broken or

missing altogether, leaving holes that Toto jumped across and Dorothy

walked around. As for the Scarecrow, having no brains, he walked

straight ahead, and so stepped into the holes and fell at full length

on the hard bricks. It never hurt him, however, and Dorothy would pick

him up and set him upon his feet again, while he joined her in laughing

merrily at his own mishap.

The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were farther

back. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther

they went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.

At noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy

opened her basket and got out some bread. She offered a piece to the

Scarecrow, but he refused.

“I am never hungry,” he said, “and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my

mouth is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat,

the straw I am stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the

shape of my head.”

Dorothy saw at once that this was true, so she only nodded and went on

eating her bread.

“Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from,” said

the Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner. So she told him all

about Kansas, and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone

had carried her to this queer Land of Oz.

The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, “I cannot understand why

you should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry,

gray place you call Kansas.”

“That is because you have no brains” answered the girl. “No matter how

dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would

rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful.

There is no place like home.”

The Scarecrow sighed.

“Of course I cannot understand it,” he said. “If your heads were

stuffed with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in the

beautiful places, and then Kansas would have no people at all. It is

fortunate for Kansas that you have brains.”

“Won’t you tell me a story, while we are resting?” asked the child.

The Scarecrow looked at her reproachfully, and answered:

“My life has been so short that I really know nothing whatever. I was

only made day before yesterday. What happened in the world before that

time is all unknown to me. Luckily, when the farmer made my head, one

of the first things he did was to paint my ears, so that I heard what

was going on. There was another Munchkin with him, and the first thing

I heard was the farmer saying, ‘How do you like those ears?’

“‘They aren’t straight,’” answered the other.

“‘Never mind,’” said the farmer. “‘They are ears just the same,’” which

was true enough.

“‘Now I’ll make the eyes,’” said the farmer. So he painted my right

eye, and as soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and

at everything around me with a great deal of curiosity, for this was my

first glimpse of the world.

“‘That’s a rather pretty eye,’” remarked the Munchkin who was watching

the farmer. “‘Blue paint is just the color for eyes.’

“‘I think I’ll make the other a little bigger,’” said the farmer. And

when the second eye was done I could see much better than before. Then

he made my nose and my mouth. But I did not speak, because at that time

I didn’t know what a mouth was for. I had the fun of watching them make

my body and my arms and legs; and when they fastened on my head, at

last, I felt very proud, for I thought I was just as good a man as

anyone.

“‘This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,’ said the farmer. ‘He

looks just like a man.’

“‘Why, he is a man,’ said the other, and I quite agreed with him. The

farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a

tall stick, where you found me. He and his friend soon after walked

away and left me alone.

“I did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them.

But my feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay on

that pole. It was a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing to think of,

having been made such a little while before. Many crows and other birds

flew into the cornfield, but as soon as they saw me they flew away

again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this pleased me and made me feel

that I was quite an important person. By and by an old crow flew near

me, and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder and

said:

“‘I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any

crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.’ Then he

hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn he wanted. The other birds,

seeing he was not harmed by me, came to eat the corn too, so in a short

time there was a great flock of them about me.

“I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow

after all; but the old crow comforted me, saying, ‘If you only had

brains in your head you would be as good a man as any of them, and a

better man than some of them. Brains are the only things worth having

in this world, no matter whether one is a crow or a man.’

“After the crows had gone I thought this over, and decided I would try

hard to get some brains. By good luck you came along and pulled me off

the stake, and from what you say I am sure the Great Oz will give me

brains as soon as we get to the Emerald City.”

“I hope so,” said Dorothy earnestly, “since you seem anxious to have

them.”

“Oh, yes; I am anxious,” returned the Scarecrow. “It is such an

uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool.”

“Well,” said the girl, “let us go.” And she handed the basket to the

Scarecrow.

There were no fences at all by the roadside now, and the land was rough

and untilled. Toward evening they came to a great forest, where the

trees grew so big and close together that their branches met over the

road of yellow brick. It was almost dark under the trees, for the

branches shut out the daylight; but the travelers did not stop, and

went on into the forest.

“If this road goes in, it must come out,” said the Scarecrow, “and as

the Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we must go wherever

it leads us.”

“Anyone would know that,” said Dorothy.

“Certainly; that is why I know it,” returned the Scarecrow. “If it

required brains to figure it out, I never should have said it.”

After an hour or so the light faded away, and they found themselves

stumbling along in the darkness. Dorothy could not see at all, but Toto

could, for some dogs see very well in the dark; and the Scarecrow

declared he could see as well as by day. So she took hold of his arm

and managed to get along fairly well.

“If you see any house, or any place where we can pass the night,” she

said, “you must tell me; for it is very uncomfortable walking in the

dark.”

Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.

“I see a little cottage at the right of us,” he said, “built of logs

and branches. Shall we go there?”

“Yes, indeed,” answered the child. “I am all tired out.”

So the Scarecrow led her through the trees until they reached the

cottage, and Dorothy entered and found a bed of dried leaves in one

corner. She lay down at once, and with Toto beside her soon fell into a

sound sleep. The Scarecrow, who was never tired, stood up in another

corner and waited patiently until morning came.

Chapter V

The Rescue of the Tin Woodman

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. There was the 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

wood-chopper, 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.

Chapter VI

The Cowardly Lion

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 of

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.”

Chapter VII

The Journey to the Great Oz

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.

Chapter VIII

The Deadly Poppy Field

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 was

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 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.

Chapter IX

The Queen of the Field Mice

“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.

Chapter X

The Guardian of the Gate

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.

Chapter XI

The Wonderful City of Oz

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 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.

Chapter XII

The Search for the Wicked Witch

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.

Chapter XIII

The Rescue

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 Scarecrow’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.

Chapter XIV

The Winged Monkeys

You will remember there was no road—not even a pathway—between the

castle of the Wicked Witch and the Emerald City. When the four

travelers went in search of the Witch she had seen them coming, and so

sent the Winged Monkeys to bring them to her. It was much harder to

find their way back through the big fields of buttercups and yellow

daisies than it was being carried. They knew, of course, they must go

straight east, toward the rising sun; and they started off in the right

way. But at noon, when the sun was over their heads, they did not know

which was east and which was west, and that was the reason they were

lost in the great fields. They kept on walking, however, and at night

the moon came out and shone brightly. So they lay down among the sweet

smelling yellow flowers and slept soundly until morning—all but the

Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman.

The next morning the sun was behind a cloud, but they started on, as if

they were quite sure which way they were going.

“If we walk far enough,” said Dorothy, “I am sure we shall sometime

come to some place.”

But day by day passed away, and they still saw nothing before them but

the scarlet fields. The Scarecrow began to grumble a bit.

“We have surely lost our way,” he said, “and unless we find it again in

time to reach the Emerald City, I shall never get my brains.”

“Nor I my heart,” declared the Tin Woodman. “It seems to me I can

scarcely wait till I get to Oz, and you must admit this is a very long

journey.”

“You see,” said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, “I haven’t the

courage to keep tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all.”

Then Dorothy lost heart. She sat down on the grass and looked at her

companions, and they sat down and looked at her, and Toto found that

for the first time in his life he was too tired to chase a butterfly

that flew past his head. So he put out his tongue and panted and looked

at Dorothy as if to ask what they should do next.

“Suppose we call the field mice,” she suggested. “They could probably

tell us the way to the Emerald City.”

“To be sure they could,” cried the Scarecrow. “Why didn’t we think of

that before?”

Dorothy blew the little whistle she had always carried about her neck

since the Queen of the Mice had given it to her. In a few minutes they

heard the pattering of tiny feet, and many of the small gray mice came

running up to her. Among them was the Queen herself, who asked, in her

squeaky little voice:

“What can I do for my friends?”

“We have lost our way,” said Dorothy. “Can you tell us where the

Emerald City is?”

“Certainly,” answered the Queen; “but it is a great way off, for you

have had it at your backs all this time.” Then she noticed Dorothy’s

Golden Cap, and said, “Why don’t you use the charm of the Cap, and call

the Winged Monkeys to you? They will carry you to the City of Oz in

less than an hour.”

“I didn’t know there was a charm,” answered Dorothy, in surprise. “What

is it?”

“It is written inside the Golden Cap,” replied the Queen of the Mice.

“But if you are going to call the Winged Monkeys we must run away, for

they are full of mischief and think it great fun to plague us.”

“Won’t they hurt me?” asked the girl anxiously.

“Oh, no. They must obey the wearer of the Cap. Good-bye!” And she

scampered out of sight, with all the mice hurrying after her.

Dorothy looked inside the Golden Cap and saw some words written upon

the lining. These, she thought, must be the charm, so she read the

directions carefully and put the Cap upon her head.

“Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!” she said, standing on her left foot.

“What did you say?” asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what she was

doing.

“Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!” Dorothy went on, standing this time on her

right foot.

“Hello!” replied the Tin Woodman calmly.

“Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!” said Dorothy, who was now standing on both feet.

This ended the saying of the charm, and they heard a great chattering

and flapping of wings, as the band of Winged Monkeys flew up to them.

The King bowed low before Dorothy, and asked, “What is your command?”

“We wish to go to the Emerald City,” said the child, “and we have lost

our way.”

“We will carry you,” replied the King, and no sooner had he spoken than

two of the Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and flew away with her.

Others took the Scarecrow and the Woodman and the Lion, and one little

Monkey seized Toto and flew after them, although the dog tried hard to

bite him.

The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were rather frightened at first, for

they remembered how badly the Winged Monkeys had treated them before;

but they saw that no harm was intended, so they rode through the air

quite cheerfully, and had a fine time looking at the pretty gardens and

woods far below them.

Dorothy found herself riding easily between two of the biggest Monkeys,

one of them the King himself. They had made a chair of their hands and

were careful not to hurt her.

“Why do you have to obey the charm of the Golden Cap?” she asked.

“That is a long story,” answered the King, with a winged laugh; “but as

we have a long journey before us, I will pass the time by telling you

about it, if you wish.”

“I shall be glad to hear it,” she replied.

“Once,” began the leader, “we were a free people, living happily in the

great forest, flying from tree to tree, eating nuts and fruit, and

doing just as we pleased without calling anybody master. Perhaps some

of us were rather too full of mischief at times, flying down to pull

the tails of the animals that had no wings, chasing birds, and throwing

nuts at the people who walked in the forest. But we were careless and

happy and full of fun, and enjoyed every minute of the day. This was

many years ago, long before Oz came out of the clouds to rule over this

land.

“There lived here then, away at the North, a beautiful princess, who

was also a powerful sorceress. All her magic was used to help the

people, and she was never known to hurt anyone who was good. Her name

was Gayelette, and she lived in a handsome palace built from great

blocks of ruby. Everyone loved her, but her greatest sorrow was that

she could find no one to love in return, since all the men were much

too stupid and ugly to mate with one so beautiful and wise. At last,

however, she found a boy who was handsome and manly and wise beyond his

years. Gayelette made up her mind that when he grew to be a man she

would make him her husband, so she took him to her ruby palace and used

all her magic powers to make him as strong and good and lovely as any

woman could wish. When he grew to manhood, Quelala, as he was called,

was said to be the best and wisest man in all the land, while his manly

beauty was so great that Gayelette loved him dearly, and hastened to

make everything ready for the wedding.

“My grandfather was at that time the King of the Winged Monkeys which

lived in the forest near Gayelette’s palace, and the old fellow loved a

joke better than a good dinner. One day, just before the wedding, my

grandfather was flying out with his band when he saw Quelala walking

beside the river. He was dressed in a rich costume of pink silk and

purple velvet, and my grandfather thought he would see what he could

do. At his word the band flew down and seized Quelala, carried him in

their arms until they were over the middle of the river, and then

dropped him into the water.

“‘Swim out, my fine fellow,’ cried my grandfather, ‘and see if the

water has spotted your clothes.’ Quelala was much too wise not to swim,

and he was not in the least spoiled by all his good fortune. He

laughed, when he came to the top of the water, and swam in to shore.

But when Gayelette came running out to him she found his silks and

velvet all ruined by the river.

“The princess was angry, and she knew, of course, who did it. She had

all the Winged Monkeys brought before her, and she said at first that

their wings should be tied and they should be treated as they had

treated Quelala, and dropped in the river. But my grandfather pleaded

hard, for he knew the Monkeys would drown in the river with their wings

tied, and Quelala said a kind word for them also; so that Gayelette

finally spared them, on condition that the Winged Monkeys should ever

after do three times the bidding of the owner of the Golden Cap. This

Cap had been made for a wedding present to Quelala, and it is said to

have cost the princess half her kingdom. Of course my grandfather and

all the other Monkeys at once agreed to the condition, and that is how

it happens that we are three times the slaves of the owner of the

Golden Cap, whosoever he may be.”

“And what became of them?” asked Dorothy, who had been greatly

interested in the story.

“Quelala being the first owner of the Golden Cap,” replied the Monkey,

“he was the first to lay his wishes upon us. As his bride could not

bear the sight of us, he called us all to him in the forest after he

had married her and ordered us always to keep where she could never

again set eyes on a Winged Monkey, which we were glad to do, for we

were all afraid of her.

“This was all we ever had to do until the Golden Cap fell into the

hands of the Wicked Witch of the West, who made us enslave the Winkies,

and afterward drive Oz himself out of the Land of the West. Now the

Golden Cap is yours, and three times you have the right to lay your

wishes upon us.”

As the Monkey King finished his story Dorothy looked down and saw the

green, shining walls of the Emerald City before them. She wondered at

the rapid flight of the Monkeys, but was glad the journey was over. The

strange creatures set the travelers down carefully before the gate of

the City, the King bowed low to Dorothy, and then flew swiftly away,

followed by all his band.

“That was a good ride,” said the little girl.

“Yes, and a quick way out of our troubles,” replied the Lion. “How

lucky it was you brought away that wonderful Cap!”

Chapter XV

The Discovery of Oz, the Terrible

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.

Chapter XVI

The Magic Art of the Great Humbug

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.”

Chapter XVII

How the Balloon Was Launched

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.

Chapter XVIII

Away to the South

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.”

Chapter XIX

Attacked by the Fighting Trees

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.”

Chapter XX

The Dainty China Country

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.”

Chapter XXI

The Lion Becomes the King of Beasts

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.

Chapter XXII

The Country of the Quadlings

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.

Chapter XXIII

Glinda The Good Witch Grants Dorothy’s Wish

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.

Chapter XXIV

Home Again

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!”