girls  perched  upon  the
window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the  window,  drawing  her
companion with her as she disappeared.
     "The Professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed  away  through  the
door to see if the poor children were injured by the  fall.  The  scholars
followed after him in a wild mob, and I was left alone in the school-room,
still in a Highly-Magnified state and free to do as I pleased.
     "It immediately occurred to me that this was a  good  opportunity  to
escape. I was proud of my great size, and realized that now I could safely
travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would  make  me  a
fit associate for the most learned person I might chance to meet.
     "So, while the Professor picked the little  girls  -  who  were  more
frightened than hurt - off the ground, and the pupils clustered around him
closely grouped, I calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a corner,
and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near"
     "Wonderful!" exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, admiringly.
     "It was, indeed," agreed the Woggle-Bug.  "I  have  never  ceased  to
congratulate myself for escaping while I was Highly Magnified; for even my
excessive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had I remained a
tiny, insignificant insect."
     "I didn't know before," said Tip, looking at the  Woggle-Bug  with  a
puzzled expression, "that insects wore clothes."
     "Nor do they, in their natural state," returned the stranger. "But in
the course of my wanderings I had the good fortune to save the ninth  life
of a tailor - tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably know.
The fellow was exceedingly grateful, for had he lost that  ninth  life  it
would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to furnish me with
the stylish costume I now wear. It fits very nicely, does it not?" and the
Woggle-Bug stood up and turned  himself  around  slowly,  that  all  might
examine his person.
     "He must have been a  good  tailor,"  said  the  Scarecrow,  somewhat
enviously.
     "He was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate," observed Nick Chopper.
     "But  where  were  you  going,  when  you  met  us?"  Tip  asked  the
Woggle-Bug.
     "Nowhere in particular," was the reply, "although it is my  intention
soon to visit the Emerald City and arrange to give a course of lectures to
select audiences on the 'Advantages of Magnification.'"
     "We are bound for the Emerald City now," said the Tin  Woodman;  "so,
if it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company."
     The Woggle-Bug bowed with profound grace.
     "It will give me great  pleasure,"  said  he  "to  accept  your  kind
invitation; for nowhere in the Land of Oz could I hope  to  meet  with  so
congenial a company."
     "That is true,"  acknowledged  the  Pumpkinhead.  "We  are  quite  as
congenial as flies and honey."
     "But - pardon me if I seem inquisitive - are you  not  all  rather  -
ahem! rather unusual?" asked the Woggle-Bug, looking from one  to  another
with unconcealed interest.
     "Not more so than yourself," answered the Scarecrow.  "Everything  in
life is unusual until you get accustomed to it."
     "What rare philosophy!" exclaimed the Woggle-Bug, admiringly.
     "Yes; my brains are working well today," admitted the  Scarecrow,  an
accent of pride in his voice.
     "Then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend  our
steps toward the Emerald City," suggested the magnified one.
     "We can't," said Tip. "The Saw-Horse has broken a leg,  so  he  can't
bend his steps. And there is no wood around to make him a new  limb  from.
And we can't leave the horse behind because the Pumpkinhead is so stiff in
his Joints that he has to ride."
     "How very unfortunate!" cried the  Woggle-Bug.  Then  he  looked  the
party over carefully and said:
     "If the Pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a
leg for the horse that carries him? I judge that both are made of wood."
     "Now, that is what I  call  real  cleverness,"  said  the  Scarecrow,
approvingly. "I wonder my brains did not think of that long  ago!  Get  to
work, my dear Nick, and fit the Pumpkinhead's leg to the Saw-Horse."
     Jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he  submitted  to
having his left leg amputated by the Tin Woodman and whittled down to  fit
the left leg of the Saw-Horse. Nor was the  Saw-Horse  especially  pleased
with the operation, either;  for  he  growled  a  good  deal  about  being
"butchered," as he called it, and afterward declared that the new leg  was
a disgrace to a respectable Saw-Horse.
     "I beg you to be more careful in your speech," said the  Pumpkinhead,
sharply. "Remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing."
     "I cannot forget it," retorted the Saw-Horse, "for  it  is  quite  as
flimsy as the rest of your person."
     "Flimsy! me flimsy!" cried Jack, in a rage. "How  dare  you  call  me
flimsy?"
     "Because you are built as absurdly as a  jumping-jack,"  sneered  the
horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. "Even your head  won't
stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking backwards or
forwards!"
     "Friends, I entreat you not to quarrel!"  pleaded  the  Tin  Woodman,
anxiously." As a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so let
us bear with each others' faults."
     "An excellent suggestion," said  the  Woggle-Bug,  approvingly.  "You
must have an excellent heart, my metallic friend."
     "I have," returned Nick, well pleased. "My heart is  quite  the  best
part of me. But now let us start upon our Journey.
     They perched the one-legged Pumpkinhead upon the Saw-Horse, and  tied
him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off.
     And then, following the lead of the Scarecrow, they all  advanced  in
the direction of the Emerald City.



        Old Mombi indulges in Witchcraft

     They soon discovered that the Saw-Horse limped, for his new leg was a
trifle too long. So they were  obliged  to  halt  while  the  Tin  Woodman
chopped it down with his axe, after which the  wooden  steed  paced  along
more comfortably. But the Saw-Horse was not entirely satisfied, even yet.
     "It was a shame that I broke my other leg!" it growled.
     "On the contrary," airily remarked the Woggle-Bug,  who  was  walking
alongside, "you should consider the accident most fortunate. For  a  horse
is never of much use until he has been broken."
     "I beg your pardon," said Tip, rather provoked, for he  felt  a  warm
interest in both the Saw-Horse and his man Jack; "but  permit  me  to  say
that your joke is a poor one, and as old as it is poor."
     "Still, it is a Joke," declared the Woggle-Bug; firmly, "and  a  Joke
derived from a play upon words is considered among educated people  to  be
eminently proper."
     "What does that mean?" enquired the Pumpkinhead, stupidly.
     "It means, my dear  friend,"  explained  the  Woggle-Bug,  "that  our
language contains  many  words  having  a  double  meaning;  and  that  to
pronounce a joke that allows both meanings of a certain word,  proves  the
joker a person of culture and refinement, who has,  moreover,  a  thorough
command of the language."
     "I don't believe that," said Tip, plainly; "anybody can make a pun."
     "Not so," rejoined the Woggle-Bug, stiffly. "It requires education of
a high order. Are you educated, young sir?"
     "Not especially," admitted Tip.
     "Then you cannot judge the matter. I myself am  Thoroughly  Educated,
and I say that puns display genius. For instance, were I to ride upon this
SawHorse, he would not only be an animal he would become an equipage.  For
he would then be a horse-and-buggy."
     At this the Scarecrow gave a gasp and the Tin Woodman  stopped  short
and looked reproachfully at the Woggle-Bug. At the same time the Saw-Horse
loudly snorted his derision; and even the Pumpkinhead put up his  hand  to
hide the smile which, because it was carved upon his face,  he  could  not
change to a frown.
     But the Woggle-Bug strutted along as if he had  made  some  brilliant
remark, and the Scarecrow was obliged to say:
     "I  have  heard,  my  dear  friend,  that   a   person   can   become
over-educated; and although I have a high respect for  brains,  no  matter
how they may be arranged or classified, I begin to suspect that yours  are
slightly tangled. In any event, I must beg you to restrain  your  superior
education while in our society."
     "We are not very particular," added the  Tin  Woodman;  "and  we  are
exceedingly kind hearted. But if your superior culture gets leaky again  -
" He did not complete the sentence, but he twirled  his  gleaming  axe  so
carelessly that the Woggle-Bug looked frightened, and  shrank  away  to  a
safe distance.
     The others marched on in silence, and the Highly Magnified one, after
a period of deep thought, said in an humble voice:
     "I will endeavor to restrain myself."
     "That is all we can expect," returned the Scarecrow  pleasantly;  and
good nature being thus happily restored to the party, they proceeded  upon
their way.
     When they again stopped to allow Tip to rest - the boy being the only
one that seemed to tire - the Tin Woodman noticed many small, round  holes
in the grassy meadow.
     "This must be a village of the Field Mice," he said to the Scarecrow.
" I wonder  if  my  old  friend,  the  Queen  of  the  Mice,  is  in  this
neighborhood."
     "If she is, she  may  be  of  great  service  to  us,"  answered  the
Scarecrow, who was impressed by a sudden thought. "See  if  you  can  call
her, my dear Nick."
     So the Tin Woodman blew a shrill note upon a silver whistle that hung
around his neck, and presently a tiny grey mouse  popped  from  a  near-by
hole and advanced fearlessly toward them. For the  Tin  Woodman  had  once
saved her life, and the Queen of the Field Mice knew he was to be trusted.
"
     "Good day, your Majesty, said Nick, politely addressing the mouse; "I
trust you are enjoying good health?"
     "Thank you, I am quite well," answered the Queen,  demurely,  as  she
sat up and displayed the tiny golden  crown  upon  her  head.  "Can  I  do
anything to assist my old friends?"
     "You can, indeed," replied the Scarecrow, eagerly. "Let me, I intreat
you, take a dozen of your subjects with me to the Emerald City."
     "Will they be injured in any way?" asked the Queen, doubtfully.
     "I think not," replied the Scarecrow. "I will carry  them  hidden  in
the straw which stuffs my body,  and  when  I  give  them  the  signal  by
unbuttoning my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper  home  again
as fast as they can. By doing this  they  will  assist  me  to  regain  my
throne, which the Army of Revolt has taken from me."
     "In that case," said the Queen, "I  will  not  refuse  your  request.
Whenever you are  ready,  I  will  call  twelve  of  my  most  intelligent
subjects."
     "I am ready now" returned the Scarecrow. Then he lay  flat  upon  the
ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with  which
he was stuffed.
     The Queen uttered a little piping call, and in  an  instant  a  dozen
pretty field mice had emerged from their  holes  and  stood  before  their
ruler, awaiting her orders.
     What the Queen said to them none of our travelers  could  understand,
for it was in the mouse  language;  but  the  field  mice  obeyed  without
hesitation, running one after  the  other  to  the  Scarecrow  and  hiding
themselves in the straw of his breast.
     When all of the  twelve  mice  had  thus  concealed  themselves,  the
Scarecrow buttoned his Jacket securely and  then  arose  and  thanked  the
Queen for her kindness.
     "One thing more you might do to serve us," suggested the Tin Woodman;
"and that is to run ahead and show us the way to  the  Emerald  City.  For
some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it."
     "I will do that gladly," returned the Queen. "Are you ready?"
     The Tin Woodman looked at Tip.
     "I'm rested," said the boy. "Let us start."
     Then they resumed their journey, the little grey Queen of  the  Field
Mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near,
when away she would dart again.
     Without this unerring guide the  Scarecrow  and  his  comrades  might
never have gained the Emerald City; for many were the obstacles thrown  in
their way by the arts of old Mombi. Yet not one of  the  obstacles  really
existed - all were cleverly contrived deceptions. For when  they  came  to
the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way  the  little
Queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in  safety;  and
our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water.
     Again, a high wall of granite towered  high  above  their  heads  and
opposed their advance. But the grey Field Mouse  walked  straight  through
it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed
it.
     Afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow Tip  to  rest,
they saw forty roads branching off from  their  feet  in  forty  different
directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty
wheel,  first  in  one  direction  and  then  in  the  other,   completely
bewildering their vision.
     But the Queen called for them to follow  her  and  darted  off  in  a
straight line; and when they had gone a few paces  the  whirling  pathways
vanished and were seen no more.
     Mombi's last trick was the most fearful of all. She sent a  sheet  of
crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first
time the Scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly.
     "If that fire reaches me I  will  be  gone  in  no  time!"  said  he,
trembling until his straw rattled. "It's the most dangerous thing  I  ever
encountered."
     "I'm off, too!"  cried  the  Saw-Horse,  turning  and  prancing  with
agitation; "for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings."
     "Is fire dangerous to pumpkins?" asked Jack, fearfully.
     "You'll be baked  like  a  tart  -  and  so  will  I!"  answered  the
Woggle-Bug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster.
     But the Tin Woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede  by
a few sensible words.
     "Look at the Field Mouse!" he shouted. "The fire does not burn her in
the least. In fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception."
     Indeed, to watch the little Queen march calmly through the  advancing
flames restored courage to every member of the party,  and  they  followed
her without being even scorched.
     "This is surely a most extraordinary adventure," said the Woggle-Bug,
who was greatly amazed; "for it upsets all the Natural Laws that  I  heard
Professor Nowitall teach in the school-house."
     "Of course it does,"  said  the  Scarecrow,  wisely.  "All  magic  is
unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared  and  avoided.  But  I  see
before us the gates of the Emerald City, so I imagine we have now overcome
all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us."
     Indeed, the walls of the City were plainly visible, and the Queen  of
the Field Mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to  bid  them
goodbye.
     "We are very grateful to your Majesty for your kind assistance," said
the Tin Woodman, bowing before the pretty creature.
     "I am always pleased to be of service to my  friends,"  answered  the
Queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home.



        The Prisoners of the Queen

     Approaching the gateway of the Emerald City the  travelers  found  it
guarded by two girls of the Army of Revolt, who opposed their entrance  by
drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to  prod  the
first that came near.
     But the Tin Woodman was not afraid."
     At the worst they can but  scratch  my  beautiful  nickel-plate,"  he
said. "But there will be no 'worst,' for I think I can manage to  frighten
these absurd soldiers very easily. Follow me closely, all of you!"
     Then, swinging his axe in a great circle to  right  and  left  before
him, he advanced upon the  gate,  and  the  others  followed  him  without
hesitation.
     The girls, who had expected no resistance whatever, were terrified by
the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so  that
our travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the green marble
pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace.
     "At this rate we will soon have your Majesty upon the throne  again,"
said the Tin Woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards.
     "Thank  you,  friend  Nick,"  returned  the  Scarecrow,   gratefully.
"Nothing can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe."
     As they passed the rows of houses they saw  through  the  open  doors
that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat
around in groups, gossiping and laughing.
     "What has happened?" the Scarecrow asked a  sad-looking  man  with  a
bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along  the
sidewalk.
     "Why, we've had a revolution, your Majesty as you ought to know  very
well," replied the man; "and since you  went  away  the  women  have  been
running things to suit themselves. I'm glad you have decided to come  back
and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing
out the strength of every man in the Emerald City."
     "Hm!" said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. "If it is such hard  work  as
you say, how did the women manage it so easily?"
     "I really do not know" replied the man, with a  deep  sigh.  "Perhaps
the women are made of castiron."
     No movement was made, as they passed  along  the  street,  to  oppose
their progress. Several of the women stopped their gossip long  enough  to
cast curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn  away
with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. And when they  met  with
several girls belonging to the Army of Revolt, those soldiers, instead  of
being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of  the  way  and
allowed them to advance without protest.
     This action rendered the Scarecrow uneasy."
     I'm afraid we are walking into a trap," said he.
     "Nonsense!" returned Nick Chopper, confidently; "the silly  creatures
are conquered already!"
     But the Scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed  doubt,  and
Tip said:
     "It's too easy, altogether. Look out for trouble ahead."
     "I will," returned his Majesty.  Unopposed  they  reached  the  royal
palace and marched up the  marble  steps,  which  had  once  been  thickly
crusted with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels
had been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the Army of Revolt. And so
far not a rebel barred their way.
     Through the arched hallways and  into  the  magnificent  throne  room
marched the Tin Woodman and his followers, and here, when the green silken
curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight.
     Seated within the glittering throne  was  General  Jinjur,  with  the
Scarecrow's second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in  her
right hand. A box of caramels, from which she was eating,  rested  in  her
lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal surroundings.
     The Scarecrow stepped forward  and  confronted  her,  while  the  Tin
Woodman leaned upon his axe and the others formed a  half-circle  back  of
his Majesty's person.
     "How dare you sit in my  throne?"  demanded  the  Scarecrow,  sternly
eyeing the intruder. "Don't you know you are guilty of treason,  and  that
there is a law against treason?"
     "The throne belongs to whoever is able to take it," answered  Jinjur,
as she slowly ate another caramel. "I have taken it, as you see;  so  just
now I am the Queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of treason, and  must
be punished by the law you have just mentioned."
     This view of the case puzzled the Scarecrow.
     "How is it, friend Nick?" he asked, turning to the Tin Woodman.
     "Why, when it comes to Law, I have nothing  to,  say"  answered  that
personage. "for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is  foolish
to make the attempt."
     "Then what shall we do?" asked the Scarecrow, in dismay.
     "Why don't you  marry  the  Queen?  And  then  you  can  both  rule,"
suggested the Woggle-Bug.
     Jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. "Why don't you send her back to
her mother, where she belongs?" asked Jack Pumpkinhead.
     Jinjur frowned.
     "Why don't you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and
promises to be good?" enquired Tip. Jinjur's lip curled scornfully.
     "Or give her a good shaking!" added the Saw-Horse.
     "No," said the Tin  Woodman,  "we  must  treat  the  poor  girl  with
gentleness. Let us give her all the Jewels she can  carry,  and  send  her
away happy and contented."
     At this Queen Jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute  clapped  her
pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal.
     "You are very absurd creatures," said she; "but I am  tired  of  your
nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer."
     While the monarch and his  friends  listened  in  amazement  to  this
impudent speech, a startling thing happened. The  Tin  Woodman's  axe  was
snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and  he  found  himself
disarmed and helpless. At the same instant a shout of laughter rang in the
ears of the devoted band, and turning to see whence this came  they  found
themselves surrounded by the Army of Revolt, the girls bearing  in  either
hand their glistening knitting-needles. The entire throne room  seemed  to
be filled with the rebels, and the Scarecrow  and  his  comrades  realized
that they were prisoners.
     "You see how foolish it is to oppose a  woman's  wit,"  said  Jinjur,
gaily; "and this event only proves that I am more fit to rule the  Emerald
City than a Scarecrow. I bear you no ill will, I assure you; but lest  you
should prove troublesome to me in the future I shall order you all  to  be
destroyed. That is, all except the boy, who belongs to old Mombi and  must
be restored to her keeping. The rest of you are not human,  and  therefore
it will not be wicked to demolish you. The Saw-Horse and the Pumpkinhead's
body I will have chopped up for kindlingwood; and  the  pumpkin  shall  be
made into tarts. The Scarecrow will do nicely to start a bonfire, and  the
tin man can be cut into small pieces and fed to the  goats.  As  for  this
immense Woggle-Bug - "
     "Highly Magnified, if you please!" interrupted the insect.
     "I think I will ask the cook  to  make  green-turtle  soup  of  you,"
continued the Queen, reflectively.
     The Woggle-Bug shuddered.
     "Or, if that won't do, we might use  you  for  a  Hungarian  goulash,
stewed and highly spiced," she added, cruelly.
     This programme of extermination was so terrible  that  the  prisoners
looked upon one another in a panic of fear. The Scarecrow  alone  did  not
give way to despair. He stood quietly before the Queen and  his  brow  was
wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape.
     While thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast  move  gently.
At once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising  his  hand
he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket.
     This action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd of  girls  clustering
about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny  grey
mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered  away  between  the
feet of the Army of Revolt. Another mouse quickly followed;  then  another
and another, in rapid succession. And suddenly such  a  scream  of  terror
went up from the Army that it might easily have filled the stoutest  heart
with consternation. The flight that ensued turned to a stampede,  and  the
stampede to a panic.
     For while  the  startled  mice  rushed  wildly  about  the  room  the
Scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of  feet
as the girls disappeared from  the  palace  -  pushing  and  crowding  one
another in their mad efforts to escape.
     The Queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne
and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. Then a mouse ran  up  the
cushions, and with a terrified leap poor Jinjur shot clear over  the  head
of the Scarecrow and escaped through an archway -  never  pausing  in  her
wild career until she had reached the city gates.
     So, in less time than I can explain, the throne room was deserted  by
all save the Scarecrow and his friends, and the Woggle-Bug heaved  a  deep
sigh of relief as he exclaimed:
     "Thank goodness, we are saved!"
     "For a time, yes;" answered the Tin Woodman. "But the enemy will soon
return, I fear."
     "Let us bar all the entrances to the  palace!"  said  the  Scarecrow.
"Then we shall have time to think what is best to be done."
     So all except Jack Pumpkinhead,  who  was  still  tied  fast  to  the
Saw-Horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed the
heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely.  Then,  knowing  that  the
Army of Revolt could not batter down the barriers  in  several  days,  the
adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of war.



        The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think

     "It seems to me," began the Scarecrow, when all were again  assembled
in the throne room, "that the girl Jinjur is quite right in claiming to be
Queen. And if she is right, then I am wrong, and we have no business to be
occupying her palace."
     "But you  were  the  King  until  she  came,"  said  the  Woggle-Bug,
strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; "so it appears to  me
that she is the interloper instead of you."
     "Especially as we have just conquered her and  put  her  to  flight,"
added the Pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward  the
Scarecrow.
     "Have we really conquered her?" asked the Scarecrow,  quietly.  "Look
out of the window, and tell me what you see."
     Tip ran to the window and looked out.
     "The palace is surrounded by a  double  row  of  girl  soldiers,"  he
announced.
     "I thought so," returned  the  Scarecrow.  "We  are  as  truly  their
prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace."
     "My friend is right," said Nick Chopper, who had been  polishing  his
breast with a bit of chamois-leather. "Jinjur is still the Queen,  and  we
are her prisoners."
     "But I hope she cannot get at us," exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, with  a
shiver of fear. "She threatened to make tarts of me, you know."
     "Don't worry," said the Tin Woodman. "It cannot  matter  greatly.  If
you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. A good tart  is  far
more admirable than a decayed intellect."
     "Very true," agreed the Scarecrow.
     "Oh, dear!" moaned Jack; "what an unhappy  lot  is  mine!  Why,  dear
father, did you not make me out of tin - or even out of straw - so that  I
would keep indefinitely."
     "Shucks!" returned Tip, indignantly. "You ought to  be  glad  that  I
made you at all." Then he added, reflectively, "everything has to come  to
an end, some time."
     "But I beg to remind  you,"  broke  in  the  Woggle-Bug,  who  had  a
distressed look in his bulging, round  eyes,  "that  this  terrible  Queen
Jinjur suggested making a goulash of me - Me! the  only  Highly  Magnified
and Thoroughly Educated Woggle-Bug in the wide, wide world!"
     "I  think  it  was  a  brilliant  idea,"  remarked   the   Scarecrow,
approvingly.
     "Don't you imagine he would  make  a  better  soup?"  asked  the  Tin
Woodman, turning toward his friend.
     "Well, perhaps," acknowledged the Scarecrow.
     The Woggle-Bug groaned.
     "I can see, in my mind's eye," said he, mournfully, "the goats eating
small pieces of my dear comrade, the Tin Woodman, while my soup  is  being
cooked on a bonfire built of the Saw-Horse and  Jack  Pumpkinhead's  body,
and Queen Jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend
the Scarecrow!"
     This morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party,  making  them
restless and anxious.
     "It can't happen for some time," said  the  Tin  Woodman,  trying  to
speak cheerfully; "for we shall be able to keep Jinjur out of  the  palace
until she manages to break down the doors."
     "And in the meantime I am liable to starve to death, and  so  is  the
WoggleBug," announced Tip.
     "As for me," said the Woggle-Bug, "I think that I could live for some
time on Jack Pumpkinhead. Not that I  prefer  pumpkins  for  food;  but  I
believe they are somewhat nutritious, and Jack's head is large and plump."
     "How heartless!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman, greatly shocked. "Are  we
cannibals, let me ask? Or are we faithful friends?"
     "I see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this palace," said
the Scarecrow, with decision. "So let us end this mournful talk and try to
discover a means to escape."
     At this suggestion they  all  gathered  eagerly  around  the  throne,
wherein was seated the Scarecrow, and as Tip sat down upon a  stool  there
fell from his pocket a pepper-box, which rolled upon the floor.
     "What is this?" asked Nick Chopper, picking up the box.
     "Be careful!" cried the boy. "That's my Powder of Life.  Don't  spill
it, for it is nearly gone."
     "And what is the Powder of Life?"  enquired  the  Scarecrow,  as  Tip
replaced the box carefully in his pocket.
     "It's some magical stuff old Mombi  got  from  a  crooked  sorcerer,"
explained the boy. "She brought Jack to life with it, and afterward I used
it to bring the Saw-Horse to life. I guess it will make anything live that
is sprinkled with it; but there's only about one dose left."
     "Then it is very precious," said the Tin Woodman.
     "Indeed it is," agreed the Scarecrow. "It may prove our best means of
escape from our difficulties. I believe I will think for a few minutes; so
I will thank you, friend Tip, to get out your knife  and  rip  this  heavy
crown from my forehead."
     Tip soon cut  the  stitches  that  had  fastened  the  crown  to  the
Scarecrow's head, and the former monarch of the Emerald  City  removed  it
with a sigh of relief and hung it on a peg beside the throne.
     "That is my last memento of royalty" said he; "and I'm  glad  to  get
rid of it. The former King of this City, who was named Pastoria, lost  the
crown to the Wonderful Wizard, who passed it on to me. Now the girl Jinjur
claims it, and I sincerely hope it will not give her a headache."
     "A kindly thought, which I greatly admire,"  said  the  Tin  Woodman,
nodding approvingly.
     "And now I will indulge in a quiet think," continued  the  Scarecrow,
lying back in the throne.
     The others remained as silent and still as possible,  so  as  not  to
disturb him; for all had great confidence in the extraordinary  brains  of
the Scarecrow.
     And, after what seemed  a  very  long  time  indeed  to  the  anxious
watchers, the thinker sat up,  looked  upon  his  friends  with  his  most
whimsical expression, and said:
     "My brains work beautifully today. I'm  quite  proud  of  them.  Now,
listen! If we attempt to escape through the doors of the palace  we  shall
surely be captured. And, as we can't escape through the ground,  there  is
only one other thing to be done. We must escape through the air!"
     He paused to note the effect of these  words;  but  all  his  hearers
seemed puzzled and unconvinced.
     "The Wonderful Wizard escaped in a balloon," he continued. "We  don't
know how to make a balloon, of course; but any sort of thing that can  fly
through the air can carry us easily. So I suggest that my friend  the  Tin
Woodman, who is a skillful mechanic, shall build some sort of  a  machine,
with good strong wings, to carry us; and our friend Tip can then bring the
Thing to life with his magical powder."
     "Bravo!" cried Nick Chopper.
     "What splendid brains!" murmured Jack.
     "Really quite clever!" said the Educated Woggle-Bug.
     "I believe it can be done,"  declared  Tip;  "that  is,  if  the  Tin
Woodman is equal to making the Thing."
     "I'll do my best," said Nick, cheerily; "and, as a matter of fact,  I
do not often fail in what I attempt. But the Thing will have to  be  built
on the roof of the palace, so it can rise comfortably into the air."
     "To be sure," said the Scarecrow.
     "Then let us search through the palace," continued the  Tin  Woodman,
"and carry all the material we can find to the roof, where I will begin my
work."
     "First, however," said the Pumpkinhead, "I beg you  will  release  me
from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. For in  my  present
condition I am of no use to myself or to anyone else."
     So the Tin Woodman knocked a mahogany center-table to pieces with his
axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved,  on  to  the
body of Jack Pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition.
     "It seems strange," said he, as he  watched  the  Tin  Woodman  work,
"that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me."
     "That proves you are unusual," returned  the  Scarecrow.  "and  I  am
convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this  world  are
the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree,  and
live and die unnoticed."
     "Spoken like a philosopher!" cried the Woggle-Bug, as he assisted the
Tin Woodman to set Jack upon his feet.
     "How do you feel now?" asked  Tip,  watching  the  Pumpkinhead  stump
around to try his new leg."
     As good as new" answered Jack, Joyfully, "and quite ready  to  assist
you all to escape."
     "Then let us get to work," said the  Scarecrow,  in  a  business-like
tone.
     So, glad to be doing anything that might lead to  the  end  of  their
captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace  in  search  of
fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine.



        The Astonishing Flight of the Gump

     When the adventurers reassembled upon the roof it was  found  that  a
remarkably queer assortment of articles had been selected by  the  various
members of the party. No one seemed to have a very clear idea of what  was
required, but all had brought something.
     The Woggle-Bug had taken from its position over the  mantle-piece  in
the  great  hallway  the  head  of  a  Gump,  which   was   adorned   with
wide-spreading antlers; and this, with great care and greater  difficulty,
the insect had carried up the stairs to the roof. This Gump  resembled  an
Elk's head, only the nose turned upward in a saucy manner and  there  were
whiskers upon its chin, like those of a  billy-goat.  Why  the  Woggle-Bug
selected this article he could not have  explained,  except  that  it  had
aroused his curiosity.
     Tip, with the aid of the Saw-Horse, had brought a large,  upholstered
sofa to the roof. It was an oldfashioned piece  of  furniture,  with  high
back and ends, and it was so heavy  that  even  by  resting  the  greatest
weight upon the back of the Saw-Horse, the boy found himself out of breath
when at last the clumsy sofa was dumped upon the roof.
     The Pumpkinhead had brought a broom, which was  the  first  thing  he
saw. The Scarecrow arrived with a coil of clothes-lines and ropes which he
had taken from the courtyard, and in his trip up the stairs he had  become
so entangled in the loose ends of the ropes that both he  and  his  burden
tumbled in a heap upon the roof and might have rolled off if Tip  had  not
rescued him.
     The Tin Woodman appeared last. He also had  been  to  the  courtyard,
where he had cut four great, spreading leaves from a huge  palm-tree  that
was the pride of all the inhabitants of the Emerald City.
     "My dear Nick!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, seeing what his  friend  had
done; "you have been guilty of the greatest crime any person can commit in
the Emerald City. If I remember rightly, the penalty for  chopping  leaves
from the royal palm-tree  is  to  be  killed  seven  times  and  afterward
imprisoned for life."
     "It cannot be helped now" answered the Tin Woodman, throwing down the
big leaves upon the roof. "But it  may  be  one  more  reason  why  it  is
necessary for us to escape. And now let us see what you have found for  me
to work with."
     Many were the doubtful looks cast  upon  the  heap  of  miscellaneous
material that now cluttered the roof, and finally the Scarecrow shook  his
head and remarked:
     "Well, if friend Nick can manufacture, from this mess of  rubbish,  a
Thing that will fly through the air and carry us to safety,  then  I  will
acknowledge him to be a better mechanic than I suspected."
     But the Tin Woodman seemed at first by no means sure of  his  powers,
and only after polishing his forehead vigorously with the  chamois-leather
did he resolve to undertake the task.
     "The first thing required for the machine," said he, "is a  body  big
enough to carry the entire party. This sofa is the biggest thing we  have,
and might be used for a body. But, should the machine ever  tip  sideways,
we would all slide off and fall to the ground."
     "Why not use two sofas?" asked Tip. "There's another  one  just  like
this down stairs."
     "That is a very sensible suggestion," exclaimed the Tin Woodman. "You
must fetch the other sofa at once."
     So Tip and the Saw-Horse managed, with much labor, to get the  second
sofa to the roof; and when the two were placed together, edge to edge, the
backs and ends formed a protecting rampart all around the seats.
     "Excellent!" cried the Scarecrow. "We can ride within this snug  nest
quite at our ease."
     The  two  sofas  were  now  bound  firmly  together  with  ropes  and
clothes-lines, and then Nick Chopper fastened the Gump's head to one end.
     "That will show which is the  front  end  of  the  Thing,"  said  he,
greatly pleased with the idea." And, really, if you examine it critically,
the Gump looks very well as a figure-head. These  great  palm-leaves,  for
which I have endangered my life seven times, must serve us as wings."
     "Are they strong enough?" asked the boy.
     "They are as strong as anything we can get,"  answered  the  Woodman;
"and although they are not in proportion to the Thing's body, we  are  not
in a position to be very particular."
     So he fastened the palm-leaves to the sofas, two on each side.
     Said the Woggle-Bug, with considerable admiration:
     "The Thing is now complete, and only needs to be brought to life."
     "Stop a moment!" exclaimed Jack." Are you not going to use my broom?"
     "What for?" asked the Scarecrow.
     "Why, it can be fastened to the back end for a  tail,"  answered  the
Pumpkinhead. "Surely you would not call the Thing complete without a tail.
"
     "Hm!" said the Tin Woodman, "I do not see the use of a tail.  We  are
not trying to copy a beast, or a fish, or a bird. All we ask of the  Thing
is to carry us through the air.
     "Perhaps, after the Thing is brought to life, it can use  a  tail  to
steer with," suggested the Scarecrow. "For if it flies through the air  it
will not be unlike a bird, and I've noticed that  all  birds  have  tails,
which they use for a rudder while flying."
     "Very well," answered Nick, "the broom shall be used for a tail," and
he fastened it firmly to the back end of the sofa body.
     Tip took the pepper-box from his pocket.
     "The Thing looks very big," said he, anxiously; "and I  am  not  sure
there is enough powder left to bring all of it to life. But I'll  make  it
go as far as possible."
     "Put most on the wings," said Nick Chopper; "for they must be made as
strong as possible."
     "And don't forget the head!" exclaimed the Woggle-Bug.
     "Or the tail!" added Jack Pumpkinhead.
     "Do be quiet," said Tip, nervously; "you must give  me  a  chance  to
work the magic charm in the proper manner."
     Very carefully he  began  sprinkling  the  Thing  with  the  precious
powder. Each of the four wings was first lightly  covered  with  a  layer.
then the sofas were sprinkled, and the broom given a slight coating.
     "The head! The head! Don't, I beg of you, forget the head!" cried the
Woggle-Bug, excitedly.
     "There's only a little of the powder left,"  announced  Tip,  looking
within the box." And it seems to me it is more important to bring the legs
of the sofas to life than the head."
     "Not so," decided the Scarecrow. "Every thing must  have  a  head  to
direct it; and since this