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 Saw-
Horse, 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 good- bye.
"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.
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