"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 Woggle- Bug," 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.
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