L.Frank Baum. 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


        1. 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.



        2. 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.



        3. 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 near by, but it did not  take  her  long  to
find the one paved with yellow bricks. Within a short time she was walking
briskly toward the Emerald City, her silver shoes tinkling merrily on  the
hard, yellow road-bed. The sun shone bright and the  birds  sang  sweetly,
and Dorothy did not feel nearly so bad as you might think  a  little  girl
would who had been suddenly whisked away from her own country and set down
in the midst of a strange land.
     She was surprised, as she walked along, to see how pretty the country
was about her. There were neat fences at the sides of the road, painted  a
dainty blue color, and beyond them were fields of grain and vegetables  in
abundance. Evidently the Munchkins were good farmers  and  able  to  raise
large crops. Once in a while she would pass a house, and the  people  came
out to look at her and bow low as she went by; for everyone knew  she  had
been the means of destroying the Wicked Witch and setting them  free  from
bondage. The houses of the Munchkins were odd-looking dwellings, for  each
was round, with a big dome for a roof. All were painted blue, for in  this
country of the East blue was the favorite color.
     Toward evening, when Dorothy was tired with her long walk  and  began
to wonder where she should pass the night, she  came  to  a  house  rather
larger than the rest. On the green lawn before it many men and women  were
dancing. Five little fiddlers played as loudly as possible, and the people
were laughing and singing, while a big  table  near  by  was  loaded  with
delicious fruits and nuts, pies and cakes, and many other good  things  to
eat.
     The people greeted Dorothy kindly, and invited her to supper  and  to
pass the night with them; for this was the home  of  one  of  the  richest
Munchkins in the land, and his friends were gathered with him to celebrate
their freedom from the bondage of the Wicked Witch.
     Dorothy ate a hearty supper and was waited upon by the rich  Munchkin
himself, whose name was Boq. Then she sat upon a settee  and  watched  the
people dance.
     When Boq saw  her  silver  shoes  he  said,  "You  must  be  a  great
sorceress."
     "Why?" asked the girl.
     "Because you wear silver shoes and  have  killed  the  Wicked  Witch.
Besides, you have white in your frock, and only  witches  and  sorceresses
wear white."
     "My dress is blue and white checked," said Dorothy, smoothing out the
wrinkles in it.
     "It is kind of you to wear that," said Boq. "Blue is the color of the
Munchkins, and white is the witch color. So we know  you  are  a  friendly
witch."
     Dorothy did not know what to say to this, for all the  people  seemed
to think her a witch, and she knew very well  she  was  only  an  ordinary
little girl who had come by the chance of a cyclone into a strange land.
     When she had tired watching the dancing, Boq led her into the  house,
where he gave her a room with a pretty bed in it. The sheets were made  of
blue cloth, and Dorothy slept soundly in  them  till  morning,  with  Toto
curled up on the blue rug beside her.
     She ate a hearty breakfast, and watched  a  wee  Munchkin  baby,  who
played with Toto and pulled his tail and crowed and laughed in a way  that
greatly amused Dorothy. Toto was a fine curiosity to all the  people,  for
they had never seen a dog before.
     "How far is it to the Emerald City?" the girl asked.
     "I do not know," answered Boq gravely, "for I have never been  there.
It is better for people to keep away from Oz, unless  they  have  business
with him. But it is a long way to the Emerald City, and it will  take  you
many days. The country here is  rich  and  pleasant,  but  you  must  pass
through rough and dangerous places  before  you  reach  the  end  of  your
journey."
     This worried Dorothy a little, but she knew that only  the  Great  Oz
could help her get to Kansas again, so she bravely resolved  not  to  turn
back.
     She bade her friends good-bye, and again started along  the  road  of
yellow brick. When she had gone several miles she thought she  would  stop
to rest, and so climbed to the top of the fence beside the  road  and  sat
down. There was a great cornfield beyond the fence, and not far  away  she
saw a Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep the  birds  from  the  ripe
corn.
     Dorothy leaned her chin upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully  at  the
Scarecrow. Its head was a small sack stuffed with straw, with eyes,  nose,
and mouth painted on it to represent a face. An  old,  pointed  blue  hat,
that had belonged to some Munchkin, was perched on his head, and the  rest
of the figure was a blue suit of clothes, worn and faded, which  had  also
been stuffed with straw. On the feet were some old boots with  blue  tops,
such as every man wore in this country, and the figure  was  raised  above
the stalks of corn by means of the pole stuck up its back.
     While Dorothy was looking earnestly into the queer, painted  face  of
the Scarecrow, she was surprised to see one of the  eyes  slowly  wink  at
her. She thought she must have been mistaken at first,  for  none  of  the
scarecrows in Kansas ever wink; but presently the figure nodded  its  head
to her in a friendly way. Then she climbed down from the fence and  walked
up to it, while Toto ran around the pole and barked.
     "Good day," said the Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.
     "Did you speak?" asked the girl, in wonder.
     "Certainly," answered the Scarecrow. "How do you do?"
     "I'm pretty well, thank you," replied Dorothy politely. "How  do  you
do?"
     "I'm not feeling well," said the Scarecrow, with a smile, "for it  is
very tedious being perched up here night and day to scare away crows."
     "Can't you get down?" asked Dorothy.
     "No, for this pole is stuck up my back. If you will please take  away
the pole I shall be greatly obliged to you."
     Dorothy reached up both arms and lifted the figure off the pole, for,
being stuffed with straw, it was quite light.
     "Thank you very much," said the Scarecrow, when he had been set  down
on the ground. "I feel like a new man."
     Dorothy was puzzled at this, for it sounded queer to hear  a  stuffed
man speak, and to see him bow and walk along beside her.
     "Who are you?" asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched himself  and
yawned. "And where are you going?"
     "My name is Dorothy," said the girl, "and I am going to  the  Emerald
City, to ask the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas."
     "Where is the Emerald City?" he inquired. "And who is Oz?"
     "Why, don't you know?" she returned, in surprise.
     "No, indeed. I don't know anything. You see, I am stuffed, so I  have
no brains at all," he answered sadly.
     "Oh," said Dorothy, "I'm awfully sorry for you."
     "Do you think," he asked, "if I go to the Emerald City with you, that
Oz would give me some brains?"
     "I cannot tell," she returned, "but you may  come  with  me,  if  you
like. If Oz will not give you any brains you will be no worse off than you
are now."
     "That  is  true,"  said  the  Scarecrow.  "You  see,"  he   continued
confidentially, "I don't mind my legs and arms  and  body  being  stuffed,
because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes  or  sticks  a  pin
into me, it doesn't matter, for I can't feel it. But I do not want  people
to call me a fool, and if my head stays stuffed with straw instead of with
brains, as yours is, how am I ever to know anything?"
     "I understand how you feel," said the  little  girl,  who  was  truly
sorry for him. "If you will come with me I'll ask Oz to do all he can  for
you."
     "Thank you," he answered gratefully.
     They walked back to the road. Dorothy helped him over the fence,  and
they started along the path of yellow brick for the Emerald City.
     Toto did not like this addition to the party  at  first.  He  smelled
around the stuffed man as if he suspected there might be a nest of rats in
the straw, and he often growled in an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow.
     "Don't mind Toto," said Dorothy to her new friend. "He never bites."
     "Oh, I'm not afraid," replied  the  Scarecrow.  "He  can't  hurt  the
straw. Do let me carry that basket for you. I shall not  mind  it,  for  I
can't get tired. I'll tell you a  secret,"  he  continued,  as  he  walked
along. "There is only one thing in the world I am afraid of."
     "What is that?" asked Dorothy; "the Munchkin farmer who made you?"
     "No," answered the Scarecrow; "it's a lighted match."



        4. 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, forI thought I was just as good a man as anyone.
     "`This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,' said the farmer. `He
looks just like a man.'
     "`Why, he is a man,' said the other, and I quite agreed with him. The
farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a  tall
stick, where you found me. He and his friend soon after  walked  away  and
left me alone.
     "I did not like to be deserted this way. So I  tried  to  walk  after
them. But my feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay  on
that pole. It was a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing  to  think  of,
having been made such a little while before. Many crows  and  other  birds
flew into the cornfield, but as soon as they saw me they flew away  again,
thinking I was a Munchkin; and this pleased me and made me feel that I was
quite an important person. By and by an old crow flew near me,  and  after
looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder and said:
     "`I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this  clumsy  manner.
Any crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.' Then he
hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn he wanted.  The  other  birds,
seeing he was not harmed by me, came to eat the corn too, so  in  a  short
time there was a great flock of them about me.
     "I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such  a  good  Scarecrow
after all; but the old crow comforted me, saying, `If you only had  brains
in your head you would be as good a man as any of them, and a  better  man
than some of them. Brains are the only things worth having in this  world,
no matter whether one is a crow or a man.'
     "After the crows had gone I thought this over, and  decided  I  would
try hard to get some brains. By good luck you came along and pulled me off
the stake, and from what you say I am sure  the  Great  Oz  will  give  me
brains as soon as we get to the Emerald City."
     "I hope so," said Dorothy earnestly, "since you seem anxious to  have
them."
     "Oh, yes; I am anxious," returned  the  Scarecrow.  "It  is  such  an
uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool."
     "Well," said the girl, "let us go." And she handed the basket to  the
Scarecrow.
     There were no fences at all by the roadside now,  and  the  land  was
rough and untilled. Toward evening they came to a great forest, where  the
trees grew so big and close together that their branches met over the road
of yellow brick. It was almost dark under the trees, for the branches shut
out the daylight; but the travelers did not stop, and  went  on  into  the
forest.
     "If this road goes in, it must come out," said the Scarecrow, "and as
the Emerald City is at the other end of the road, we must go  wherever  it
leads us."
     "Anyone would know that," said Dorothy.
     "Certainly; that is why I know it," returned the  Scarecrow.  "If  it
required brains to figure it out, I never should have said it."
     After an hour or so the light faded away, and they  found  themselves
stumbling along in the darkness. Dorothy could not see at  all,  but  Toto
could, for some dogs see very well in the dark; and the Scarecrow declared
he could see as well as by day. So she took hold of his arm and managed to
get along fairly well.
     "If you see any house, or any place where we can pass the night," she
said, "you must tell me; for it is very uncomfortable walking in the dark.
"
     Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.
     "I see a little cottage at the right of us," he said, "built of  logs
and branches. Shall we go there?"
     "Yes, indeed," answered the child. "I am all tired out."
     So the Scarecrow led her through the trees  until  they  reached  the
cottage, and Dorothy entered and found  a  bed  of  dried  leaves  in  one
corner. She lay down at once, and with Toto beside her soon  fell  into  a
sound sleep. The Scarecrow, who was  never  tired,  stood  up  in  another
corner and waited patiently until morning came.



        5. 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. Scarecrow, still  standing  patiently  in  his  corner,
waiting for her.
     "We must go and search for water," she said to him.
     "Why do you want water?" he asked.
     "To wash my face clean after the dust of the road, and to  drink,  so
the dry bread will not stick in my throat."
     "It must be inconvenient to be made of  flesh,"  said  the  Scarecrow
thoughtfully, "for you must sleep, and eat and drink.  However,  you  have
brains, and it is worth a lot of bother to be able to think properly."
     They left the cottage and walked through the trees until they found a
little spring of clear water, where Dorothy drank and bathed and  ate  her
breakfast. She saw there was not much bread left in the  basket,  and  the
girl was thankful the Scarecrow did not have to eat  anything,  for  there
was scarcely enough for herself and Toto for the day.
     When she had finished her meal, and was about to go back to the  road
of yellow brick, she was startled to hear a deep groan near by.
     "What was that?" she asked timidly.
     "I cannot imagine," replied the Scarecrow; "but we can go and see."
     Just then another groan reached their ears, and the sound  seemed  to
come from behind them. They turned and walked through  the  forest  a  few
steps, when Dorothy discovered something shining in a ray of sunshine that
fell between the trees. She ran to the place and then stopped short,  with
a little cry of surprise.
     One of the big trees had been partly chopped  through,  and  standing
beside it, with an uplifted axe in his hands, was a man made  entirely  of
tin. His head and arms and legs were jointed upon his body, but  he  stood
perfectly motionless, as if he could not stir at all.
     Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the  Scarecrow,  while
Toto barked sharply and made a snap at the tin legs, which hurt his teeth.
     "Did you groan?" asked Dorothy.
     "Yes," answered the tin man, "I did. I've been groaning for more than
a year, and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me."
     "What can I do for you?" she inquired softly, for she  was  moved  by
the sad voice in which the man spoke.
     "Get an oil-can and oil my joints," he answered. "They are rusted  so
badly that I cannot move them at all; if I am well oiled I shall  soon  be
all right again. You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage."
     Dorothy at once ran back to the cottage and found  the  oil-can,  and
then she returned and asked anxiously, "Where are your joints?"
     "Oil my neck, first," replied the Tin Woodman. So she oiled  it,  and
as it was quite badly rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin  head  and
moved it gently from side to side until it worked freely, and then the man
could turn it himself.
     "Now oil the joints in my arms," he said. And Dorothy oiled them  and
the Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were quite free from rust and
as good as new.
     The Tin Woodman gave a sigh of  satisfaction  and  lowered  his  axe,
which he leaned against the tree.
     "This is a great comfort," he said. "I have been holding that axe  in
the air ever since I rusted, and I'm glad to be able to  put  it  down  at
last. Now, if you will oil the joints of my legs, I  shall  be  all  right
once more."
     So they oiled his legs until  he  could  move  them  freely;  and  he
thanked them again and again for his release, for he seemed a very  polite
creature, and very grateful.
     "I might have stood there always if you had not come along," he said;
"so you have certainly saved my life. How did you happen to be here?"
     "We are on our way to the Emerald City to  see  the  Great  Oz,"  she
answered, "and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night."
     "Why do you wish to see Oz?" he asked.
     "I want him to send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants him to
put a few brains into his head," she replied.
     The Tin Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said:
     "Do you suppose Oz could give me a heart?"
     "Why, I guess so," Dorothy answered. "It would be as easy as to  give
the Scarecrow brains."
     "True," the Tin Woodman returned. "So, if you will allow me  to  join
your party, I will also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz to help me."
     "Come along," said the Scarecrow heartily, and Dorothy added that she
would be pleased to have his company. So the Tin  Woodman  shouldered  his
axe and they all passed through the forest until they  came  to  the  road
that was paved with yellow brick.
     The Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in  her  basket.
"For," he said, "if I should get caught in the rain,  and  rust  again,  I
would need the oil-can badly."
     It was a bit of good luck to have their new comrade join  the  party,
for soon after they had begun their journey again they  came  to  a  place
where the trees and  branches  grew  so  thick  over  the  road  that  the
travelers could not pass. But the Tin Woodman set to work with his axe and
chopped so well that soon he cleared a passage for the entire party.
     Dorothy was thinking so earnestly as they walked along that  she  did
not notice when the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled over to  the
side of the road. Indeed he was obliged to call to  her  to  help  him  up
again.
     "Why didn't you walk around the hole?" asked the Tin Woodman.
     "I don't know enough," replied the Scarecrow cheerfully. "My head  is
stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask  him
for some brains."
     "Oh, I see," said the Tin Woodman. "But, after all,  brains  are  not
the best things in the world."
     "Have you any?" inquired the Scarecrow.
     "No, my head is quite empty," answered the Woodman. "But once  I  had
brains, and a heart also; so, having tried them both, I should much rather
have a heart."
     "And why is that?" asked the Scarecrow.
     "I will tell you my story, and then you will know."
     So, while they were walking through the forest, the Tin Woodman  told
the following story:
     "I was born the son of a woodman who chopped down trees in the forest
and sold the  wood  for  a  living.  When  I  grew  up,  I  too  became  a
woodchopper, and after my father died I took care of my old mother as long
as she lived. Then I made up my mind that instead of living alone I  would
marry, so that I might not become lonely.
     "There was one of the Munchkin girls who was so beautiful that I soon
grew to love her with all my heart. She, on her part, promised to marry me
as soon as I could earn enough money to build a better house for her; so I
set to work harder than ever. But the girl lived with an old woman who did
not want her to marry anyone, for she was so lazy she wished the  girl  to
remain with her and do the cooking and the housework.  So  the  old  woman
went to the Wicked Witch of the East, and promised her two sheep and a cow
if she would prevent the marriage. Thereupon the Wicked Witch enchanted my
axe, and when I was chopping away at my best one day, for I was anxious to
get the new house and my wife as soon as possible, the axe slipped all  at
once and cut off my left leg.
     "This at first seemed a great misfortune, for I knew a one-legged man
could not do very well as a wood-chopper. So I went to a tinsmith and  had
him make me a new leg out of tin. The leg worked very  well,  once  I  was
used to it. But my action angered the Wicked Witch of the  East,  for  she
had promised the old woman I should not marry the  pretty  Munchkin  girl.
When I began chopping again, my axe slipped and  cut  off  my  right  leg.
Again I went to the tinsmith, and again he made me a leg out of tin. After
this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after the other; but,  nothing
daunted, I had them replaced with tin ones. The Wicked Witch then made the
axe slip and cut off my head, and at first I thought that was the  end  of
me. But the tinsmith happened to come along, and he made me a new head out
of tin.
     "I thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch then, and  I  worked  harder
than ever; but I little knew how cruel my enemy could be. She thought of a
new way to kill my love for the beautiful Munchkin maiden, and made my axe
slip again, so that it cut right through my body, splitting  me  into  two
halves. Once more the tinsmith came to my help and made me a body of  tin,
fastening my tin arms and legs and head to it, by means of joints, so that
I could move around as well as ever. But, alas! I had  now  no  heart,  so
that I lost all my love for the Munchkin girl, and did not care whether  I
married her or not. I suppose she is still  living  with  the  old  woman,
waiting for me to come after her.
     "My body shone so brightly in the sun that I felt very  proud  of  it
and it did not matter now if my axe slipped, for  it  could  not  cut  me.
There was only one danger-that my joints would rust; but I kept an oil-can
in my cottage and took care to oil myself whenever I needed  it.  However,
there came a day when I  forgot  to  do  this,  and,  being  caught  in  a
rainstorm, before I thought of the danger my joints had rusted, and I  was
left to stand in the woods until you came to help me. It  was  a  terrible
thing to undergo, but during the year I stood there I had  time  to  think
that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my heart. While  I  was
in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one can love who has not a
heart, and so I am resolved to ask Oz to give me one. If he does,  I  will
go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her."
     Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow had been  greatly  interested  in  the
story of the Tin Woodman, and now they knew why he was so anxious to get a
new heart.
     "All the same," said the Scarecrow, "I shall ask for  brains  instead
of a heart; for a fool would not know what to do with a heart  if  he  had
one."
     "I shall take the heart," returned the Tin Woodman;  "for  brains  do
not make one happy, and happiness is the best thing in the world."
     Dorothy did not say anything, for she was puzzled to  know  which  of
her two friends was right, and she decided if she could only get  back  to
Kansas and Aunt Em, it did not matter so much whether the Woodman  had  no
brains and the Scarecrow no heart, or each got what he wanted.
     What worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone, and another
meal for herself and Toto would empty the basket. To be sure  neither  the
Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate anything, but she was not made  of  tin
nor straw, and could not live unless she was fed.



        6. 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  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."



        7. 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.



        8. 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  left
clinging to the pole in the middle of the river.
     "Good-bye!" he called after them, and they were very sorry  to  leave
him. Indeed, the Tin Woodman began to cry, but fortunately remembered that
he might rust, and so dried his tears on Dorothy's apron.
     Of course this was a bad thing for the Scarecrow.
     "I am now worse off than when  I  first  met  Dorothy,"  he  thought.
"Then, I was stuck on a pole in a cornfield, where  I  could  make-believe
scare the crows, at any rate. But surely there is no use for  a  Scarecrow
stuck on a pole in the middle of a river. I am afraid I shall  never  have
any brains, after all!"
     Down the stream the raft floated, and the poor Scarecrow was left far
behind. Then the Lion said:
     "Something must be done to save us. I think I can swim to  the  shore
and pull the raft after me, if you will only hold fast to the  tip  of  my
tail."
     So he sprang into the water, and the Tin Woodman caught fast hold  of
his tail. Then the Lion began to swim with all his might toward the shore.
It was hard work, although he was so big; but by and by  they  were  drawn
out of the current, and then Dorothy took the Tin Woodman's long pole  and
helped push the raft to the land.
     They were all tired out when they  reached  the  shore  at  last  and
stepped off upon the pretty green grass,  and  they  also  knew  that  the
stream had carried them a long way past the road of yellow brick that  led
to the Emerald City.
     "What shall we do now?" asked the Tin Woodman, as the Lion  lay  down
on the grass to let the sun dry him.
     "We must get back to the road, in some way," said Dorothy.
     "The best plan will be to walk along the riverbank until we  come  to
the road again," remarked the Lion.
     So, when they were rested, Dorothy picked  up  her  basket  and  they
started along the grassy bank, to  the  road  from  which  the  river  had
carried them. It was a lovely country, with plenty of  flowers  and  fruit
trees and sunshine to cheer them, and had they not felt so sorry  for  the
poor Scarecrow, they could have been very happy.
     They walked along as fast as they could, Dorothy only  stopping  once
to pick a beautiful flower; and after a time the Tin  Woodman  cried  out:
"Look!"
     Then they all looked at the river and saw the Scarecrow perched  upon
his pole in the middle of the water, looking very lonely and sad.
     "What can we do to save him?" asked Dorothy.
     The Lion and the Woodman both shook their heads,  for  they  did  not
know. So they sat down upon the bank and gazed wistfully at the  Scarecrow
until a Stork flew by, who, upon seeing  them,  stopped  to  rest  at  the
water's edge.
     "Who are you and where are you going?" asked the Stork.
     "I am Dorothy," answered the girl, "and these are my friends, the Tin
Woodman and the Cowardly Lion; and we are going to the Emerald City."
     "This isn't the road," said the Stork, as she twisted her  long  neck
and looked sharply at the queer party.
     "I know it," returned Dorothy, "but we have lost the  Scarecrow,  and
are wondering how we shall get him again."
     "Where is he?" asked the Stork.
     "Over there in the river," answered the little girl.
     "If he wasn't so big and heavy I would get him for you," remarked the
Stork.
     "He isn't heavy a bit," said Dorothy eagerly, "for he is stuffed with
straw; and if you will bring him back to us, we shall thank you  ever  and
ever so much."
     "Well, I'll try," said the Stork, "but if I find he is too  heavy  to
carry I shall have to drop him in the river again."
     So the big bird flew into the air and over the water till she came to
where the Scarecrow was perched upon his pole. Then  the  Stork  with  her
great claws grabbed the Scarecrow by the arm and carried him up  into  the
air and back to the bank, where Dorothy and the Lion and the  Tin  Woodman
and Toto were sitting.
     When the Scarecrow found himself among his friends again, he  was  so
happy that he hugged them all, even the Lion and Toto; and as they  walked
along he sang "Tol-de-ri-de-oh!" at every step, he felt so gay.
     "I was afraid I should have to stay in the river forever,"  he  said,
"but the kind Stork saved me, and if I ever get any brains  I  shall  find
the Stork again and do her some kindness in return."
     "That's all right," said the Stork, who was flying along beside them.
"I always like to help anyone in trouble. But I must go now, for my babies
are waiting in the nest for me. I hope you will find the Emerald City  and
that Oz will help you."
     "Thank you," replied Dorothy, and then the kind Stork flew  into  the
air and was soon out of sight.
     They walked along listening to the singing of  the  brightly  colored
birds and looking at the lovely flowers which now became so thick that the
ground was carpeted with them. There were big yellow and  white  and  blue
and purple blossoms, besides great clusters of scarlet poppies, which were
so brilliant in color they almost dazzled Dorothy's eyes.
     "Aren't they beautiful?" the girl asked, as she breathed in the spicy
scent of the bright flowers.
     "I suppose so," answered the Scarecrow. "When I have brains, I  shall
probably like them better."
     "If I only had a heart, I should love them," added the Tin Woodman.
     "I always did like flowers," said the Lion. "They of seem so helpless
and frail. But there are none in the forest so bright as these."
     They now came upon more and more of  the  big  scarlet  poppies,  and
fewer and fewer of the other flowers; and soon they  found  themselves  in
the midst of a great meadow of poppies. Now it is  well  known  that  when
there are many of these flowers together their odor is  so  powerful  that
anyone who breathes it falls asleep, and if the  sleeper  is  not  carried
away from the scent of the flowers, he  sleeps  on  and  on  forever.  But
Dorothy did not know this, nor could she get  away  from  the  bright  red
flowers that were everywhere about; so presently her eyes grew  heavy  and
she felt she must sit down to rest and to sleep.
     But the Tin Woodman would not let her do this.
     "We must hurry and get back to the road of yellow brick before dark,"
he said; and the Scarecrow agreed with him. So  they  kept  walking  until
Dorothy could stand no longer. Her eyes closed in spite of herself and she
forgot where she was and fell among the poppies, fast asleep.
     "What shall we do?" asked the Tin Woodman.
     "If we leave her here she will die," said the Lion. "The smell of the
flowers is killing us all. I myself can scarcely keep my  eyes  open,  and
the dog is asleep already."
     It was true; Toto had fallen down beside his little mistress. But the
Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, not being made of flesh, were not  troubled
by the scent of the flowers.
     "Run fast," said the Scarecrow to the Lion,  "and  get  out  of  this
deadly flower bed as soon as you can. We will bring the little  girl  with
us, but if you should fall asleep you are too big to be carried."
     So the Lion aroused himself and bounded forward as fast as  he  could
go. In a moment he was out of sight.
     "Let us make a  chair  with  our  hands  and  carry  her,"  said  the
Scarecrow. So they picked up Toto and put the dog in  Dorothy's  lap,  and
then they made a chair with their hands for the seat and  their  arms  for
the arms and carried the sleeping girl between them through the flowers.
     On and on they walked, and it seemed that the great carpet of  deadly
flowers that surrounded them would never end. They followed  the  bend  of
the river, and at last came upon their friend the Lion, lying fast  asleep
among the poppies. The flowers had been too strong for the huge beast  and
he had given up at last, and fallen only a short distance from the end  of
the poppy bed, where the sweet grass  spread  in  beautiful  green  fields
before them.
     "We can do nothing for him," said the Tin Woodman, sadly; "for he  is
much too heavy to lift. We must leave him here to sleep  on  forever,  and
perhaps he will dream that he has found courage at last."
     "I'm sorry," said the Scarecrow. "The Lion was a  very  good  comrade
for one so cowardly. But let us go on."
     They carried the sleeping girl to a pretty spot beside the river, far
enough from the poppy field to prevent  her  breathing  any  more  of  the
poison of the flowers, and here they laid her gently on the soft grass and
waited for the fresh breeze to waken her.



        9. 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.



        10. 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.



        11. 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