Chapter 1

L. FRANK BAUM

✦

AUTHOR OF THE ROAD To 02, DOROTHY AND TH ' WIZARD oF OZ, THE
EMERALD CITY OF 02, OZMA OF 02, TT . PATCHWORK
GIRL OF 0Z, TIK-TOK OF 02, F ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY

JOHN R. NEILL

THE COPP CLARK CO. LIMITED
TORONTO CANADA

Published, July, 1904

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Author’s Note

FTER the publication of «The Won-
derful Wjzard of Oz” I began to
receive letters from children, telling

me of their pleasure in reading the story and
asking me to ‘*write something more’? about
the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman. At
first I considered these little letters, frank and
carnest though they were, in the light of pretty
compliments; but the letters continued to come
during succeeding months, and even years,

Finally I promised one little girl, who
made a long journey to see me and
prefer her request,—and she is a
‘‘Dorothy,”? by the way — that when a
thousand little girls had written me a thou-
sand little letters asking for another story of
the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, I
would write the book, Either little Dorothy
was a fairy in disguise, and waved her
magic wand, or the success of the stage
productior. of «* The Wizard of Oz”
made new friends for the story. For the
thousand letters reached their desti-
nation long since—and many more
followed them.

And now, although pleading guilty toa
long delay, I have kept my promise in
this book,

L, FRANK BAUM.

Chicago, June, 1904.

Vhousenas ot
children

LIST OF CHAPTERS
Pace

Tip Manufactures a Pumpkinhead 7
The Marvelous Powder of Life ts
The Flight of the F ugitives
Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic
The Awakening of the Saw-Horse
Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride
His Majesty, the Scarecrow
General Jinjur’s Army of Revolt
The Scarecrow Plans an Escape
The Journey to the Tin Woodman
A Nickel-Plated Emperor
Mr. H. M. Wwggle-Bug, T.E.
A Highly Magnified History
Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft
The Prisoners of the Queen
The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think
The Astonishing Flight of the Gump
In the Jackdaws’ Nest
Dr. Nikidik’s Famous Wishing Pills
The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda
The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose
The Transformation of Old Mombi
Princess Ozma of Oz
The Riches of Content

In the Country of the Gillikins, which
orth of the Land of Oz, lived a youth
called Tip. There was more to his name than that,
for old Mombi often declared that his whole name
was Tippetarius; but no one was expected to say
such a long word when “Tip” would do just as well.
This boy remembered nothing of his parents, for
he had been brought when quite young to be reared
by the old woman known as Mombi, whose repu-
tation, I am sorry to say, was none of the best.
For the Gillikin people had reason to suspect her
of indulging in magical arts, and therefore hesitated
to associate with her.
Mombi was not exactly a Witch, because the
. Good Witch who ruled thac part of the Land of Oz

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had forbidden any other Witch to exist in her
dominions. So Tip’s guardian, however much she
might aspire to working magic, realized it was un-
lawful to be more than a Sorceress, or at most a
Wizardess,

Tip was made to carry wood from the forest, that
the old woman might boil her pot. He also worked
in the corn-fields, hoeing and husking; and he fed
the pigs and milked the four-horned cow that was
Mombi’s especial pride.

But you must not suppose he worked all the
time, for he felt that would be bad for him. When
sent to the forest Tip often climbed trees for birds’
eggs or amused himself chasing the fleet white
rabbits or fishing in the brooks with bent pins.
Then he would hastily gather his armful of wood
and carry it home. And when he was supposed to
be working in the corn-fields, and the tall stalks
hid him from Mombi’s view, Tip would often dig
in the gopher holes, or——if the mood seized him—

Tip Manufactures a Pumpkinhead
—————— empkinhead

lie upon his back between the rows of corn and
take a nap. So, by taking care not to exhaust his
strength, he grew as strong and rugged as a boy
may be.

Mombi’s curious magic often frightened her
neighbors, and they treated her shyly, yet respect-
fully, because of her weird powers. But Tip frankly
hated her, and took no pains to hide his feelings.
Indeed, he sometimes showed less respect for the
old woman than he should have done, considering
she was his guardian.

There were pumpkins in Mombi’s corn-fields,
lying golden red among the rows of green stalks;
and these had been planted and carefully tended
that the four-horned cow might eat of them in the
winter time. But one day, after the corn had all
been cut and stacked, and Tip was carrying the
pumpkins to the stable, he took a notion to make a
«Jack Lantern” and try to give
the old woman a fright with it. “

So he selected a fine, big (( WS
pumpkin— one with a lustrous, >
orange-red color—and began |
carving it. With the point of
his knife he made two round
eyes, a three-cornered nose, and

Tip Manufactures a Pumpkinhead

a mouth shaped like a new moon. The face, when
completed, could not have been considered strictly
beautiful; but it wore a smile so big and broad,
and was so jolly in expression, that even Tip laughed
as he looked admiringly at his work.

The child had no playmates, so he did not know
that boys often dig out the inside of a “pumpkin-
jack,” and in the space thus made put a lighted
candle to render the face more startling; but he
conceived an idea of his own that promised to be
quite as effective. He decided to manufacture the
form of a man, who would wear this pumpkin head,
and to stand it in a place where old Mombi would
meet it face to face.

“And then,” said Tip to himself, with a laugh,
«she'll squeal louder than the brown pig does when
I pull her tail, and shiver with fright worse than I
did last year when I had the ague!”

He had plenty of time to accomplish this task,
for Mombi had gone to a village—to buy groceries,
she said—and it was a journey of at least two days,

So he took his axe to the forest, and selected
some stout, straight saplings, which he cut down and
trimmed of all their twigs and leaves. From these
he would make the arms, and legs, and feet of his

man. For the body he stripped a sheet of thick

Tip Manufactures a Pumpkinhead

bark from around a big tree, and with much labor
fashioned it into a cylinder of about the right size,
pinning the edges together with wooden pegs. Then,
whistling happily as he worked, he carefully jointed
the limbs and fastened them to the body with pegs
whittled into shape with his knife.

By the time this feat had been accomplished it
began to grow dark, and Tip remembered he must
milk the cow and feed the pigs. So he picked »
his wooden man and carried it back to the house
with him.

During the evening, by the light of the fire in
the kitchen, Tip carefully rounded all the edges of
the joints and smoothed the rough places in a neat
and workmanlike manner. Then he stood the
figure up against the wall and admired it. It
seemed remarkably tall, even for a full-grown man;
but that was a good point in a small boy’s eyes, and.
Tip did not object at all to the size of his creation.

Next morning, when he looked at his work again,
Tip saw he had forgotten to give the dummy a neck,
by means of which he might fasten the pumpkin-
head to the body. So he went again to the forest,
which was not far away, and chopped from a tree
several pieces of wood with which to complete his
work, When he returned he fastened a cross-piece

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Tip Marufactures a Pumpkinhead
——$———— imp kinhead

to the upper end of the body, making a hole
through the center to hold upright the neck. The
bit of wood which formed this neck was also sharp-
ened at the upper end, and when all was ready Tip
put on the pumpkin head, pressing it well down
onto the neck, and found that it fitted very well,
The head could be turned to one side or the other,
_ as he pleased, and the hinges of the arms and legs
allowed him to place the dummy in any position
lhe desired,

“Now, that,” declared Tip, proudly, «is really a
very fine man, and it ought to frighten several
screeches out of old Mombi! But it would be much
more lifelike if it were \operly dressed.”

To find clothing seemed no easy task; but Tip
boldly ransacked the great chest in which Mombi
kept all her keepsakes and treasures, and at the very
bottom he discovered some purple trousers, a red
shirt and a pink vest which was dotted with white
spots. These he carried away to his man and suc-
ceeded, although the garments did not fit very
well, in dressing the creature in a jaunty fashion.
Some knit stockings belonging to Mombi and a
much worn pair of his own shoes completed the
man’s apparel, and Tip was so delighted that he
danced up and down and laughed aloud ‘in boyish

ecstacy. 12

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a i i ee ee | et |

Tip Manufactures a Pumpkinhead
Bath Metchlnicliat ceded Dik] sraberldatabed a

“I must give him a name!” he cried. “So good
a man as this must surely hav> a name. I believe,”
he added, after a moment's thought, «I will name
the fellow «Jack Pumpkinhead!’”

seg ‘of Life

After considering the matter carefully, Vip de-
cided that the best place to locate Jack would be
at the bend in the road, a little way from che house.
So he started to carry his man there, but found him
heavy and rather awkward to handle. After dragging
the creature a short distance Tip stood him on his
feet, and by first bending the joints of one leg, and
then those of the other,—at the same time pushing
from behind,—.the boy managed to induce Jack to
walk to the bend in the road. It was not accom-
plished without a few tumbles, and Tip really
worked harder than he ever had in the fields or

The Marvelous Powder of Life

forest; but a love of mischief urged him on, and it
pleased him to test the cleverness of his workman-
ship. *

ioJack’s all right, and works fine!” he said to
himself, panting with the unusual exertion. But
just then he discovered the man’s left arm had
fallen off in the journey; so he went back to find
it, and afterwa~ |, by whittling a new and stouter
pin for the shouicer-joint, he repaired the injury so
successfully that the arm was stronger than before.
Tip also noticed that Jack’s pumpkin head had
twisted around until it faced his back 3 but this was
easily remedied. When, at last, the man was set up
facing the turn in the path where old Mombi was
to appear, he looked natural enough to be a fair
imitation of a Gillikin farmer,—and unnatural
enough to startle anyone that came on him un-
awares,

As it was yet too early in the day to expect the
old woman to return home, Tip went down into
the valley below the farm-house and began to
gather nuts from the trees that grew there.

However, old Mombi returned earlier than usual.
She had met a crooked wizard who resided in a
lonely cave in the mountains, and had traded
several important secrets of magic with him. Hav-

The Marvelous Powder of Life

ing in this way secured three new recipes, four
magical powders and a selection of herbs of won-
derful power and potency, she hobbled home as fast
as she could, in order to test her new sorceries.

So intent was Mombi on the treasures she had
gained that when she turned the bend in the road
and caught a glimpse of the man, she merely nod-
ded and said:

“Good evening, sir.”

But, a moment after, noting that the person did
not move or reply, she cast a shrewd glance into
his face and discovered his pumpkin head—elabo-
rately carved by Tip’s jack-knife.

“Heh!” ejaculated Mombi, giving a sort of
grunt; “that rascally boy has been playing tricks
again! Very good! ve—ry good/ I'll beat him black-
and-blue for trying to scare me in this fashion!”

Angrily she raised her stick to smash in the grin-
ning pumpkin head of the dummy; but a sudden
thought made her pause, the uplifted stick left
motionless in the air.

“Why, here is a good chance to try my new
powder!” said she, eagerly. «And then I can tell
whether that crooked wizard has fairly traded
secrets, or whether he has fooled me as wickedly as
I fooled him.”

Ww
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The Marvelous Powder of Lite
$$$ rer or Lite

So she set down her basket and began fumbling
in it for one of the Precious powders she had
obtained.

While Mombi was thus occupied Tip strolled
back, with his pockets full of nuts, and discovered
the old woman standing beside his man and appar-
ently not the least bit frightened by it.

At first he was greatly disappointed; but the
next moment he became curious to know what
Mombi was going to do. So he hid behind a hedge,
where he could see without being seen, and _pre-
pared to watch.

After some search the woman drew from her
basket an old pepper-box, upon the faded label of
which the wizard had written with a lead-pencil :
« Powder of Life.”

“Ah—here it is!” she cried, joyfully. «And now
let us sce if it is potent. The stingy wizard didn’t
give me much of it, but I guess there’s enough for
two or three doses,”

Tip was much surprised when he overheard this
speech. Then he saw old Mombj raise her arm and

sprinkle the powder from the box over the pumpkin
head of his man Jack. She did this in the same
way one would pepper a baked potato, and the
powder sifted down from Jack’s head and scatterec’

“OLD MOMBI DANCED AROUND HIM”

The Marvelous Powder of Life
pa det titi EW Ei

over the red shirt and pink waistcoat and purple
trousers Tip had dressed him in, and a portion even
fell upon the patched and worn shoes.

Then, putting the pepper-box back into the
basket, Mombi lifted her left hand, with its little
finger pointed uj ward, and said:

“Weaugh!”

Then she lifted her tight hand, with the thumb
pointed upward, and said:

“Teaugh!”

Then she lifted both hands, with all the fingers
and thumbs spread out, and cried:

“Peaugh!”

Jack Pumpkinhead stepped back a pace, at this,
and said in a reproachful voice:

“Don’t yell like that! Do you think I’m deaf?”

Old Mombi danced around him, frantic with
delight.

“He lives!” she screamed: «he lives! he lives!”
) Then she threw her stick into the air and caught
it as it came down; and she hugged herself with
both arms, and tried to do a step of a jig; and all
the time she repeated, rapturously:

«He lives! —he lives! —he lives!”

Now you may well suppose that Tip cbserved all
this with amazement.

The Marvelous Powder of Lifé

At first he was so frightened and horrified that
he wanted to run away, but his legs trembled and
shook so badly that he couldn’t. Then it struck
him as a very funny thing for Jack to come to life,
especially as the expression on his pumpkin face
was so droll and comical it excited laughter on the
instant. So, recovering from his first fear, Tip began
to laugh; and the merry peals reached old Mombi’s
ears and made her hobble quickly to the hedge,
where she seized Tip’s collar and dragged him back
to where she had left her basket and the pumpkin-
headed man.

“You naughty, sneaking, wicked boy!” she ex-
claimed, furiously; “I'll teach you to spy out my
secrets and to make fun of me!”

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” protested Tip,
“I was laughing at old Pumpkinhead! Look at
him! Isn’t he a picture, though?”

“I hope you are not reflecting on my personal
appearance,” said Jack; and it was so funny to
hear his grave voice, while his face continued to
wear its jolly smile, that Tip again burst into a peal
of laughter.

Even Mombi was not without a curious interest
in the man her meoic had brought to life; for, after
staring at him ir ly, she presently asked:

——<

SSSI

OLD MOMBI PUTS JACK IN THE STABLE

The Marvelous Powder of Life

“What do you know?”

“Well, that is hard to tell,” replied Jack. «For
although I feel that I know a tremeadous lot, I am
not yet aware how much there is in the world to
find out about. It will take me a little time to
discover whether I am very wise or very foolish.”

“To be sure,” said Mombi, thoughtfully,

“But what are you going to do with him, now
he is alive?” asked Tip, wondering.

“TI must think it over,” answered Mombi. «But
we must get home at once, for it is growing dark.
Help the Pumpkinhead to walk.”

“Never mind me,” said Jack; “I can walk as
well as you can. Haven't I got legs and feet, and
aren’t they jointed?”

“Are they?” asked the woman, turning to Tip.

“Of course they are; I made ’em myself,” re-
turned the boy, with pride.

So they started for the house; but when they
reached the farm yard old Mombi led the pumpkin
man to the cow stable and shut him up in an
empty stall, fastening the door securely on the
outside,

“I’ve got to attend to you, first,” she said, nod-
ding her head at Tip.

Hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for he

The Marvelous Powder of Life
Geeta tiniest ee

knew Mombi had a bad and revengeful heart, and
would not hesitate to do any evil thing.

They entered the house. It was a round, dome-
shaped structure, as are nearly all the farm houses
in the Land of Oz.

Mombi bade the boy light a candle, while she
put her basket in a cupboard and hung her cloak
on a peg. Tip obeyed quickly, for he was afraid of
her.

After the candle had been lighted Mombi ore
dered him to build a fire ‘n the hearth, and while
Tip was thus engaged the old woman ate her
supper. When the flames began to crackle the boy
came to her and asked a share of the bread and
cheese; but Mombi refused him.

“I’m hungry!” said Tip, in a sulky tone.

“You won’t be hungry long,” replied Mombi,
with a grim look.

The boy didn’t like this speech, for it sounded
like a threat; but he happened to remember he
had nuts in his pocket, so he cracked some of thos
and ate them while the woman rose, shook the
crumbs from her apron, and hung above the fire a
small black kettle.

Then she measured out equal parts of milk and
vinegar and poured them into the kettle. Next she

The Marvelous Powder of Life
ce tot da cA le cl lens

\
produced several packets of herbs and powders and
began adding a portion of each to the contents of
the kettle. Occasionally she would draw near the
candle and read from a yellow paper the recipe of
the mess she was concocting,

As Tip watched her his uneasiness increased.

“What is that for?” he asked.

“For you,” returned Mombi, briefly.

Tip wriggled around upon his stool and stared
awhile at the kettle, which was beginning to bubble.
Then he would glance at the stera and wrinkled
features of the witch and wish he were any place
but in that dim and smoky kitchen, where even the
shadows cast by the candle upon the wall were
enough to give one the horrors. So an hour passed
away, during which the silence was only broken by
the bubbling of the pot and the hissing of the Aames.

Finally, Tip spoke again,

“Have I got to drink that stuff?” he asked,
nodding toward the pot.

“Yes,” said Mombi.

«‘What'll it do to me?” asked Tip.

“If it’s properly made,” replied Mombi, «it will
change or transform you into a marble statue.”

Tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration from
his forehead with his sleeve.

The Marvelous Powder of Life
ern abn eh hh the ck hath ead

“I don’t want to be a marble statue!” he protested.

«That doesn’t matter; I want you to be one,”
said the old woman, looking at him severely,

«What use ’ll I be then?” asked Tip. “There
won't be any one to work for you.”

“I'll make the Pumpkinhead work for me,” said
Mombi.

Again Tip groaned.

“Why don’t you change me into a goat, or a
chicken?” he asked, anxiously. “You can’t do any-
thing with a marble statue.”

“Oh, yes; I can,” returned Mombi. «I’m going
to plant a flower garden, next Spring, and I'll put
you in the middle of it, for an ornament. I wonder
I haven’t thought of that before; you’ve been a
bother to me for years.”

At this terrible speech Tip felt the beads of per-
spiration starting all over his body; but he sat still
and shivered and looked anxiously at the kettle.

“Perhaps it won’t work,” he muttcred, in a voice
that sounded weak and discouraged.

“Oh, I think it will,” answered Mombi, cheer-
fully. «I seldom make a mistake.”

Again there was a period of silence—a silence
so long and gloomy that when Mombi finally lifted
the kettle-gom the fire it was close to midnight,

Bb
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“I DONT

The Marvelous Powder of Life

“You cannot drink it until it has become quite
cold,” announcea the old witch—for in spite of
the law she had acknowledged practising witchcraft.
“We must both go to bed now, and at daybreak I
will call you and at once complete your transfor-
mation into a marble statue.”

With this she hobbled into her room, bearing the
steaming kettle with her, and Tip heard her close
and lock the door.
| The boy did not go to bed, as he had been com-
manded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of
the dying fire.

Life
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[A > A / i

| The Flight of the

ugitives

Tip reflected.

“It’s a hard thing, to be a marble statue,” he
thought, rebelliously, «and I’m not going to stand
it. For years I’ve been a bother to her, she says;
so she’s going to get rid of me. Well, there’s an
easier way than to become a statue. No boy could
have any fun forever standing in the middle of a
flower garden! I’ll run away, that’s what I'll do—
and I may as well go before she makes me drink
that nasty stuff in the kettle.”

He waited until the snores of the old witch ane
nounced she was fast asleep, and then he arose

softly and went to the cupboard to find something
to eat.

The Flight of the Fugitives

“No use starting on a journey without food,” he
decided, searching upon the narrow shelves.

He found some crusts of bread; but he had to
look into Mombi’s basket to find the cheese she
had brought from the village. While turning over
the contents of the basket he came upon the
pepper-box which contained the « Powder of Life.”

“I may as well take this with me,” he thought,
“or Mombi ’ll be using it to make more mischief
with.” So he put the box in his pocket, together
with the bread and cheese.

Then he cautiously left the house and latched
the door behind him. Outside heth moon and stars
shone brightly, and the night seemed peaceful and
inviting after the close and ill-smelling kitchen.

* «Tl be glad to get away,” said Tip, softly; «for
I never did like that old woman. I wonder how I
ever came to live with her.”

He was walking slowly toward the road when a
thought made him pause.

“I don’t like to leave Jack Pumpkinhead to the
tender mercies of old Mombi,” he muttered. «And
Jack belongs to me, for I made him—even if the
old witch did bring him to life.”

He retraced his steps to the cow-stable and

opened the door of the stall where the pumpkin-
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The Flight of the Fugitives

headed man had been left.

Jack was standing in the middle of the stall, and
by the moonlight Tip could see he was smiling just
as jovially as ever.

“Come on!” said the boy, beckoning.

“Where to?” asked Jack.

“You'll know as soon as I do,” answered Tip,
smiling sympathetically into the pumpkin face.
“All we've got to do now is to tramp.”

“Very well,” returned, Jack, and walked awk-
wardly out of the stable and into the moonlight.

Tip turned toward the road and the man fol-
lowed him. Jack walked with a sort of limp, and
occasionally one of the joints of his legs would
turn backward, instead of frontwise, almost causing
him to tumble. But the Pumpkinhead was quick
to notice this, and began to take more pains to
step carefully; so that he met with few accidents.

Tip led him along the path without stopping an
instant. They could not go very fast, but they
walked steadily; and by the time the moon sank
away and the sun peeped over the hills they had
travelled so great a distance that the boy had no
reason to fear pursuit from the old witch. More-
over, he had turned first into one path, and then
into another, so that should anyone follow them it

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The Flight of the Fugitive
eit oe ee ee

would prove very difficult to guess
which way they had gone, or where to
seek them.

Fairly satisfied that he had escaped
—for a time, at least—being turned
into a marble statue, the boy stopped his
companion and seated himself
upon a rock by the roadside.

“Let’s have some break-
> Bast,” he said.

x Jack Pumpkinhead watch-
ed Tip curiously, but refused
to join in the repa..

“I don’t seem to Ls made
the same way you are,” he
said.

“I know you are not,” re-
turned Tip; “for I made you.”

“Oh! Did you?” asked Jack.

“Certainly. And put you
together. And carved your
eyes and nose and ears and

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The Flight of the Fugitives

mouth,” said Tip proudly. “And dressed you.”

Jack looked at his body and limbs critically.

“It strikes me you made a very good job of it,”
he remarked.

«Just 80-80,” replied Tip, modestly ; for he began
to see certain defects in the construction of his man.
«If I'd known we were going to travel together I
might have been a little more particular.”

« Why, then,” said the Pumpkinhead, in a tone
that expressed surprise, “you must be my creator—
my parent—my father!”

«Or your inventor,” replied the boy with a laugh.
“Yes, my son; I really believe I am!”

«Then I owe you obedience,” contizued the man,
“and you owe me—support.”

«That's it, exactly,” declared Tip, jumping up.
“So let us be off.”

“Where are we going?” asked Jack, when they
had resumed their journey.

«I’m not exactly sure,” said the boy; “but I
believe we are headed South, and that will bring us,
sooner or later, to the Emerald City.”

«What city is that?” enquired the Pumpkinhead.

«Why, it’s the center of the Land of Oz, and
the biggest town in all the country. I’ve never
been there, myself, but I’ve heard all about ite

The Flight of the Fugitives

history. It was built by a mighty and wonderful
Wizard named Oz, and everything there is of a
green color—just as everything in this Country of
the Gillikins is of a purple color.”

“Is everything here purple?” asked Jack.

“Of course it is, Can’t you see?” returned the boy.

“I believe I must be color-blind,” said the Pump-
xinhead, after staring about him.

“Well, the grass is purple, and the trees are purple,
and the houses and fences are purple,” explained
Tip. “Even the mud in the roads is purple. But
in the Emerald City everything is green that is
purple here. And in the Country of the Munchkins,
over at the East, everything is blue; and in the
South country of the Quadlings everything is red;
and in the West country of the Winkies, where the
Tin Woodman rules, everything is yellow.”

“Oh!” said Jack. Then, after a pause, he asked:
“Did you say a Tin Woodman rules the Winkies?”

“Yes; he was one of those who helped Dorothy
to destroy the Wicked Witch of the West, and the
Winkies were so grateful that they invited him to
become their ruler,—just as the people of the
Emerald City invited the Scarecrow to rule them.”

“Dear me!” said Jack. «I’m getting confused
with all this history. Who is the Scarecrow?”

iB )

The Flight of the Fugitives

«“ Another friend of Dorothy’s,” replied Tip.
“And who is Dorothy?”

“She was a girl that came here from Kansas, a
place in the big, outside World. She got blown to
the Land of Oz by a cyclone, and while she was
here the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman accom-
panied her on her travels,”

“And where is she now?” inquired the Pump-
kinhead.

“Glinda the Good, who rules the Quadlings, sent
her home again,” said the boy.

“Qh. And what became of the Scarecrow?”

“I told you. He rules the Emerald City,”
answered Tip.

“TI thought you said it was ruled by a wonderful
Wizard,” objected Jack, seeming more and more
confused.

“Well, so I did. Now, pay attention, and I'll
explain it,” said Tip, speaking slowly and looking
the smiling Pumpkinhead squarely in the eye.
“Dorothy went to the Emerald City to ask the
Wizard to send her back to Kansas; and the Scare-
crow and the Tin Woodman went with her. But
the Wizard couldn’t send her back, because he
wasn’t so much of a Wizard as he might have been.
And then they got angry at the Wizard, and threat-

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The Flight of the Fugitives

ened to expose him; so the Wizard made a big
balloon and escaped in it, and no one has ever seen
him since.” :

“Now, that is very interesting history,” said Jack,
well pleased;” and I understand it perfectly—all
but the explanation.”

“I’m glad you do,” responded Tip. «After the
Wizard was gone, the people of the Emerald City
made His Majesty, the Scarecrow, their King; and
I have heard that he became a very popular ruler.”

“Are we going to see this queer King?” asked

Jack, with interest.

“I think we may as well,” replied the boy; “un-
less you have something better to do.”

“Oh, no, dear father,” said the Pumpkinhead.
“I am quite willing to go wherever you please.”

The boy, small and rather delicate in appearance,
seemed somewhat embarrassed at being called
“father” by the tall, awkward, pumpkinheaded man;
but to deny the relationship would involve another
long and tedious explanation; so he changed the
subject by asking, abrurtly:

“Are you tired?”

“Of course not!” replied the other. «But,” he
continued, after a pause, “it is quite certain I shall
wear out my wooden joints if I keep on waiking.”

Tip reflected, as they journeyed on, that this was
true. He began to regret that he had not con.
structed the wooden limbs more carefully and sub-
stantially. Yet how could he ever have guessed

Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic
iene ee eS

that the man he had made merely to scare old
Mom'si with would be brought to life by means of
a magical powder contained in an old pepper-box?

So he ceased to reproach himself, and began to
think how he might yet remedy the deficiencies of
Jack’s weak joints.

While thus engaged they came to the edge of s
wood, and the boy sat down
to rest upon an old saw-
horse that some wood-
cutter had left there. ga.

“Why don’t you sit
down?” he asked the
Pumpkinhead.

“Won’t it strain my
joints?” inquired the other.

“Of course not. It'll rest
them,” declared the boy.

So Jack tried to sit
down; but as soon as he
bent his joints farther than
usual they gave way alto-
gether, and he came clatter-
ing to the ground with such
a crash that Tip feared he
was entirely ruined.

th on Ril Statik, oc ta

Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic
Po Asal | sobmekieiithenMiddins, La

He rushed to the man, lifted him to his feet,
straightened his arms and legs, and felt of his head
to see if by chance it had become cracked. But
Jack seemed to be in pretty good shape, after all,
and Tip said to him:

“I guess you'd better remain standing, hereafter.
It seems the safest way.”

“Very well, dear father; just as you say,” replied
the smiling Jack, who had been in no wise con-
fused by his tumble.

Tip sat down again. Presently the Pumpkin-
head asked:

“What is that thing you are sitting on?”

“Oh, this is a horse,” replied the boy, carelessly,

«What is a horse?” demanded Jack.

“A horse? Why, there are two kinds of horses,”
returned Tip, slightly puzzled how to explain.
“One kind of horse is alive, and has four legs and a
head and a tail. And people ride upon its back.”

“I understand,” said Jack, cheerfully, «That's
the kind of horse you are now sitting on,”

“No, it isn’t,” answered Tip, promptly.

“Why not? That one has four legs, and a head,
and a tail.”

Tip looked at the saw-horse more carefully, and
found that the Pumpkinhead was right. The body

Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic

had been formed from a tree-trunk, and a branch
had been left sticking up at one end that looked
very much like a tail. In the other end were two
big knots that resembled eyes, and a place had been
chopped away that might easily be mistaken for the
horse’s mouth. As for the legs, they were four straight
limbs cut from trees and stuck fast into the body,
being spread wide apart so that the saw-horse would
stand firmly when a log was laid across it to be
sawed.

“This thing resembles a real horse more than I
imagined,” said Tip, trying to explain, «But a
teal horse is alive, and trots and pfances and eats
oats, while this is nothing more than a dead horse,
made of wood, and used to saw logs upon.”

“If it were alive, wouldn’t it trot, and prance,
and eat oats? ’ inquired the Pumpkinhead.

“It would trot and prance, perhaps; but it
wouldn’t eat oats,” replied the boy, laughing at the
idea. “And of course it can’t ever be alive, be-
cause it is made of wood.”

“So am I,” answered the man,

Tip looked at him in surprise.

“Why, so you are!” he exclaimed. «And the
magic powder that brought you to life is here in
my pocket.”

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THE MAGICAL POWDER OF LIFE

Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic

He brought out the Pepper box, and eyed it
curiously,

“I wonder,” said he, musingly, “if it would bring
the saw-horse to life.”

“If it would,” returned Jack, calmly — for
nothing seemed to surprise him —«] could ride on
its back, and that would save my joints from wear-
ing out”

“I'll try it!” cried the boy, jumping up. «But
I wonder if I can remember the words old Mombi
said, and the way she held her hands up.”

He thought it over for a minute, and as he had’
watched carefully from the hedge every motion of
the old witch, and listened to her words, he believed
he could repeat exactly what she had said and done,

So he began by sprinkling some of the magic
Powder of Life from the Pepper-box upon th
body of the saw-horse. Then he lifted his left han
with the little finger pointing upward, and said:!
“Weaugh!”

“What does that mean, dear father?” asked Jack,
curiously,

“I don’t know,” answered Tip. Then he lifted
his right hand, with the thumb pointing upward,
and said: « Teaugh!”

“What's that, dear father?” inquired Jack.

- Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic

“It means you must keep quiet!” replied the
boy, provoked at being interrupted at so important
@ moment.

“ How fast I am learning!” remarked the Pump-
kinhead, with his eternal smile.

Tip now lifted both hands above his head, with
all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried in
a loud voice: “Peaugh!”

Immediately the saw-horse moved, stretched its
legs, yawned with its chopped-out mouth, and shook
a few grains of the powder off its back. The rest
of the powder seemed to have vanished into the
body of the horse.

“Good!” called Jack, while the boy looked on in
astonishment. “You are a very clever sorcerer,

dear father!”

he Awakening
of the Saw-llorse

The Saw-Horse, finding himself alive, seemed
even more astonished then Tip. He rolled his
knotty eyes from side to side, taking a first wonder-
ing view of the world in which he had now so im-
portant an existence. Then he tried to look at
himself; bu* he had, indeed, no neck to turn; so
that in the endeavor tc see his body he kept cir-
cling around and around, without catching even a
glimpse of it. His legs were stiff and awkward, for
there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently
he bumped against Jack Pumpkinhead and sent
that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined
the roadside.

The Awakening of the Sawhorse
—$—$ $e Sawhorse

Tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as
at the persistence of the Saw-Horse in prancing
around in a circle; so he called out:

“Whoa! Whoa, there!”

The Saw-Horse paid no attention whatever to
this command, and the next instant brought one of
his wooden legs down upon Tip’s foot so forcibly
that the boy danced away in pain to a safer dis-
tance, from where he again yelled:

“Whoal Whoa, I say!”

Jack had now managed to raise himself to a
sitting position, and he looked at the Saw-Horse
with much interest,

“I don’t believe the animal can hear you,” he
remarked,

“I shout loud enough, don’t I?” answered Tip,
angrily,

“Yes; but the horse has no ears,” said the smiling
Pumpkinhead.

“Sure enough!” exclaimed Tip, noting the fact
for the first time. «How, then, am I going to
stop him?”

But at that instant the Saw-Horse stopped him-
self, having concluded it was impossible to see his
own body. He saw Tip, however, and came close
to the boy to observe him more fully,

The Awakening of the Sawhorse

It was really comical to see the creature walk;
for it moved the legs on its right side together, and
those on its left side together, as a pacing horse
does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a
cradle.

Tip patted it upon the head, and said “Good
boy! Good boy!” in a coaxing tone; and the Saw-
Horse pranced away to examine with its bulging
eyes the form of Jack Pumpkinhead.

“I must find a halter for him,” said Tip; and
having made a search in his pocket he produced a
roll of strong cord. Unwinding this, he approached
the Saw-Horse and tied the cord around its neck,
afterward fastening the other end to a large tree.
The Saw-Horse, not understanding the action,
stepped backward and snapped the string easily;
but it made no attempt to run away.

“He’s stronger than I thought,” said the boy,
“and rather obstinate, too.”

«Why don’t you make him some ears?” asked
Jack. «Then you can tell him what to do.”

“That’s a splendid idea!” said Tip. «How did
you happen to think of it?”

«Why, I didn’t think of it,” answered the Pump-
kinhead; «I didn’t need to, for it’s the simplest and
easiest thing to do.”

The Awakening of the Sawhorse

So Tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears
out of the bark of a small tree.

“I mustn’t make them too big,” he said, as he
whittled, “or our horse would become a donkey.”

“How is that?” inquired Jack, from the road-
side.

“Why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a
donkey has bigger ears than a horse,” explained Tip.

“Then, if my ears were longer, would I be a
horse?” asked Jack.

“My friend, said Tip, gravely, “you'll never be
anything but a Pumpkinhead, no matter how big
your ears are.”

“Oh,” returned Jack, nodding; «I think I un-
derstand.”

“If you do, you're a wonder,” remarked the boy;
“but there’s no harm in thinking you understand.
I guess these ears are ready now. Will you hold
the horse while I stick them on?”

“Certainly, if you'll help me up,” said Jack,

So Tip raised him to his feet, and the Pumpkin-
head went to the horse and held its head while the
boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade and
inserted the ears,

“They make him look very handsome,” said Jack,
admiringly.

The Awakening of the Sawhorse

But those words, spoken close to the Saw-Horse,
and being the first sounds he had ever heard, so
startled the animal that he made a bound forward
and tumbled Tip on one side and Jack on the
other. Then he continued to rush forward as if
frightened by the clatter of his own foot-steps.

“Whoa!” shouted Tip, picking himself up;
“whoa! you idiot—whoa!”

The Saw-Horse would probably have paid no
attention to this, but just then it stepped a leg into
a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the
ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically wa-
ving its four legs in the air.

Tip ran up to it.

“You're a nice sort of a horse, I must say!” he
exclaimed. «Why didn’t you stop when I yelled
‘whoa?’”

“Does ‘whoa’ mean to stop?” asked the Saw-
Horse, in a surprised voice, as it rolled its eyes up-
ward to look at the boy.

“Of course it does,” answered Tip.

“And a hole in the ground means to stop, also,
doesn’t it?” continued the horse.

“To be sure; unless you step over it,” said Tip.

“What a strange place this is,” the creature ex-
claimed, as if amazed. «What am I doing here,

anyway?” 51

We .

The Awakening of the Sawhorse

“Why, I’ve brought you to life,”” answered the
boy; “but it won’t hurt you any, if you mind me
and do as I tell you.”

“Then I will do as you tell me,” replied the
Saw-Horse, humbly. «But what happened to me,
a moment ago? I don’t seem to be just right,
someway.”

“You're upside down,” explained Tip. «But
just keep tnose legs still a minute and I'll set you
right side up again.”

«How many tides have I?” asked the creature,
wonderingly.

“Several,” said Tip, briefly. «But do keep those
legs still.”

The Saw-Horse now became quiet, and held its
legs rigid; so that Tip, after several efforts, was
able to roll him over and set him upright.

“Ah, I seem all right now,” said the queer animal,
with a sigh.

“One of your ears is broken,” Tip announced,
after a careful examination. «I'll have to make a
new one.”

Then he led the Saw-Horse back to where Jack
was vainly struggling to regain his feet, and after
assisting the Pumpkinhead to stand upright Tip
whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the
horse’s head. 53

the Emerald City,

and Jack Pumpk

back, so he won’t wear ou

can.

The Awakening of the Sawhorse
$2 Sit vawhorse

“Now,” said he, addressin
tion to what I’m guing to t
to stop; ‘Get-Up!’ means t
Means to go as fast as you
“I believe I do,” returned the
“Very good. We

g his steed, «pay atten.
ell you. ‘Whoa!’ means
o walk forward; «'l'rot!’

Understand?”
horse.

are all going on a journey to

to see His Majesty, the Scarecrow ;
inhead is going to ride on your

t his joints.”

“I don’t mind,” said the Saw-Horse. “Anything
that suits you suits me.”

Then Tip assisted
“Hold on tight,’

Jack to get upon the horse.
” he cautioned, «or you may fall

off and crack your pumpkin head.”

“That would be
shudder. «What shall I hold on

“Why, hold on

horrible!”

to his ears,”

Moment’s hesitation,

“Don’t do that!” remonstrated the
hear.”

“for then I can’t

That seemed reasonable,
something else.
“T’ll fix it!” said he,
the wood and cut a sh
young, stout tree.
to a point, and then

said Jack, with a
to?”
replied Tip, after a

Saw-Horse;

so ‘ip tried to think of

at length, He went into
ort length of limb from a
One end of this he sharpened
he dug a hole in the back of

“DOES IT HURT?” ASKED THE BOY.

The Awakening of the Sawhorse
Seepenineeranatetnnnee ate ee Ee

the Saw-Horse, just behind its head. Next he
brought a piece of rock from the road and ham-
mered the post firmly into the animal’s back.

“Stop! Stop!” shouted the horse; “you're jarring
me terribly.”

“Does it hurt?” asked the boy.

“Not exactly hurt,” answered the animal; «but
it makes me quite nervous to be jarred.”

“Well, it’s all over now,” said Tip, ercouragingly.
“ Now, Jack, be sure to hold fast t- this post, and
then you can’t fli off and get smashed.”

So Jack held on tight, and Tip said to the horse:

“Get-up”

The obedient creature at once walked forward,
rocking from side to side as he raised his feet from
the ground.

Tip walked beside the Saw-Horse, quite content
with this addition to their party. Presently he
began to whistle.

“What does that sound mean?” asked the horse.

“Don’t pay any attention to it,” said Tip. «I’m
Just whistling, and that only means I’m pretty well
satisfied.”

“I'd whistle myself, if I could push my lips to-
gether,” remarked Jack. «I fear, dear father, that
in some respects I am sadly lacking.”

The Awakening of the Sawhorse

After journeying on for some distance the narrow
path they were following turned into a broad road-
way, paved with yellow brick. By the side of the
roud Tip noticea a sign-post that read:

“NINE MILES TO THE EMERALD CITY.”

But it was now growing dark, so he decided to
| camp for the night by the roadside and to resume
the journey next morning by daybreak. He led
the Saw-Horse to a grassy mound upon which grew
several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the Pump-
kinhead to alight.

«I think I'll jay you upon the ground, overnight,”
said the boy. «You will be safer that way.”

«‘How about me?” asked the Saw-Horse.

“It won't hurt you to stand,” replied Tip; “and,
as you can’t sleep, you may as well watch out and
see that no one comes near to disturb us.”

Then the boy stretched himself upon the grass
beside the Pumpkinhead, and being greatly wearied
by the journey was soon fast asleep.

At daybreak Tip was awakened by the Pump-
kinhead. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bathed
in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his
bread and cheese. Having thus prepared for a new
day the boy said:

“Let us start at once. Nine miles is quite a
distance, but we ought to reach the Emerald City
by noon if no accidents happen.”

So the Pumpkinhead was again perched upon
the back of the Saw-Horse and the journey was re-
sumed.

Tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and
trees had now faded to a dull lavender, and before
long this lavender appeared to take on a greenish
tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer
to the great City where the Scarecrow ruled.

Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride
ese Te

The little party had traveled but a short two
miles upon their way when the road of yellow
brick was parted by a broad and swift river, Tip
was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he
discovered a man in a ferry-boat approaching from
the other side of the stream.

When the man reached the bank Tip asked:

“Will you row us to the other side?”

“Yes, if you have money,” returned the ferryman,
whose face looked cross and disagreeable.

«But I have no money,” said Tip.

“None at all?” inquired the man.

“None at all,’ answered the boy.

“Then I’ll not break my back rowing you over,”
said the ferryman, decidedly.

“What a nice man!” remarked the Pumpkin-
head, smilingly.

The ferryman stared at him, but made no reply.
Tip was trying to think, for it was a great disap-
pointment to him to find his journey so suddenly
brought to an end.

“I must certainly get to the Emerald City,” he
said to the boatman; «but how can I cross the river
if you do not take me?”

The man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh.

“ That wooden horse will float,” said he; “and

you can ride him across. As for the pumpkin-
headed loon who accompanies you, let him sink or
swim— it won’t matter greatly which.”

“Don’t worry about me,” said Jack, smiling
pleasantly upon the crabbed ferryman; «I’m sure I
ought to float beautifully.”

Tip thought the experiment was worth making,
and the Saw-Horse, who did not know what danger
meant, offered no objections whatever. So the bo
led it down into the water and climbed upon its
back. Jack also waded in up to his knees and

Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride
ee A lial Aina Ded OD sila

grasped the tail of the horse so that he might keep
his pumpkin head above the water.

“Now” said Tip, instructing the Saw-Horse, «if
you wiggle your legs you will probably swim; and
if you swim we shall probably reach the other side.”

The Saw-Horse at once began to wiggle its legs,
which acted as oars and moved the adventurers
slowly across the river to the opposite side. So
successful was the trip that presently they were
climbing, wet and dripping, up the grassy bank.

Tip’s trouser-legs and shoes were thoroughly
soaked; but the Saw-Horse had floated so perfectly
that from his knees up the boy was entirely dry.
As for the Pumpkinhead, every stitch of his gor-
geous clothing dripped water.

“The sun will soon dry us,” said Tip; “and, any-
how, we are now safely across, in spite of the ferry-
man, and can continue our journey.”

“I didn’t mind swimming, at all,” remarked the
horse.

“Nor did I,” added Jack.

They soon regained the road of yellow brick,
which proved to be a continuation of the road they
had left on the other side, and then Tip once more
mounted the Pumpkinhead upon the back of the
Saw-Horse.

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Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride

“If you ride fast,” said he, “the wind will help
to dry your clothing. I will hold on to the horse’s
tail and run after you. In this way we all will be-
come dry in a very short time.”

«Then the horse must step lively,” said jack.

«I’ll do my best,” returned the Saw-Horse,
cheerfully.

Tip grasped the end of the branch that served as
tail to the Saw-Horse, and called loudly: “Get-up!”

The horse started at a good pace, and Tip fol-
lowed behind. Then he decided they could go
faster, so he shouted: “Trot!”

Now, the Saw-Horse remembered that this word
was the command to go as fast as he could; so he
began rocking along the road at a tremendous pace,

Jack Pumpkinhead's Ride

and Tip had hard work—running faster than he
ever had before in his life—to keep his feet.

Soon he was out of breath, and although he
wanted to call “Whoa!” to the horse, he found he
could not get the word out of his throat, Then
the end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing
more than a dead branch, suddenly broke away, and
the next minute the boy was rolling in the dust of the
road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider
dashed on and quickly disappeared in the distance,

By the time Tip had picked himself up and
cleared the dust from his throat so he could say
“Whoa!” there was no further need of saying it, for
the horse was long since out of sight.

So he did the only sensible thing he could do.
He sat down and took a good rest, and afterward
began walking along the road.

“Some time I will surely overtake them,” he re-
flected; «for the road will end at the gates of the
Emerald City, and they can go no further than that,”

Meantime Jack was holding fast to the post and
the Saw-Horse was tearing along the road like a
racer. Neither of them knew Tip was left behind,
for the Pumpkinhead did not look around and the
Saw-Horse couldn’t.

As he rode, Jack noticed that the grass and trees

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Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride

had become a bright emerald-green in color, so he
guessed they were nearing the Emerald City even
before the tall spires and domes came into sight.

At length a high wall of green stone, studded
thick with emeralds, loomed up before them; and
fearing the Saw-Horse would not know enough to
stop and so might smash them both against this wall,
Jack ventured to cry « Whoa!” as loud as he could.

So suddenly did the horse obey that had it not
been for his post Jack would have been pitched off
head foremost, and his beautiful face ruined.

«That was a fast ride, dear father!” he exclaimed;
and then, hearing no reply, he turned around and
discovered for the first time that Tip was not there.

This apparent desertion puzzled the Pumpkin-
head, and made him uneasy. And while he was
wondering what had become of the boy, and what
he ought to do next under such trying circumstan-
ces, the gateway in the green wall opened and a
man came out.

This man was short and round, with a fat face
that seemed remarkably good-natured. He was
clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green
hat upon his head and green spectacles over his
eyes. Bowing before the Pumpkinhead he said:

«1 am the Guardian of the Gates of the Emerald

Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride

City. May I inquire who you are, and what is
your business?”

“My name is Jack Pumpkinhead,” returned the
other, smilingly; «but as to my business, I haven't
the least idea in the world what it is,”

ardian of the Gates looked surprised, and
head as if dissatisfied with the reply,

“What are you,a man ora pumpkin?” he asked,
politely,

“Both, if you please,” answered Jack,

“And this wooden horse—is it alive?” questioned
the Guardian.

The horse rolled one knotty eye upward and
winked at Jack. Then it gave a prance and brought
one leg down on the Guardian’s toes,

“Ouch!” cried the man; “I’m sorry I asked that
question. But the answer is inci
you any errand, sir, in the Emerald City?”

“It seems replied the Pump-
kinhead, seri ot think what it is,
My fath ut he is not here.”

“As for that,” P my smile,
for it is carved o knife,”

Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride

“Well, come with me into my room,” resumed

the Guardian, “and I will see what can be done for

ou.”

, 80 Jack rode the Saw-Horse through the gate-
way into a little room built into the wall. The
Guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very
tall soldier——clothed in a green uniform—entered
from the opposite door. This soldier carried a long
green gun over his shoulder and had lovely green
whiskers that fell quite to his knees. The Guard-
ian at once addressed him, saying:

«Here is a strange gentleman who doesn’t know
why he has come to the Emerald City, or what he
wants. Tell me, what shall we do with him?”

The Soldier with the Green Whiskers looked at
Jack with much care and curiosity. Finally he
shook his hcad so positively that little waves rippled
down his whiskers, and then he said:

«I must take him to His Majesty, the Scarecrow.”

«But what will His Majesty, the Scarecrow, do
wh him?” asked the Guar ‘ian of the Gates.

+That is His Majesty's business,” returned the
soldier. “I have troubles enough of my own. All
outside troubles must be turned over to His Majesty.
So put the spectacics on this fellow, and I'll take
him to the royel palace.”

Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride

So the Guardi
and tried to fit
“I haven’t 2 pair in stoc
those eyes up,” said the little man, with a sigh; “and
your head is so big that I shall be obliged to tie
the spectacles on,”
asked Jack
* said the Soldier, «and the,
blinded by the glitter and
Emerald City.”
exclaimed Jack. «Tye them on, by all
means. I don’t wish to be blinded,”

“Nor I!” broke in the Saw-Horse; so a pair of
green spectacles ened over the bul-
ging knots that 8.

cent Emerald City,

Sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of
the beautiful houses and the towers and turrets
were all faced with emeralds. Even the green mar-
ble pavement glittered with Precious stones, and it
was indeed a grand and marvelous sight to one who
beheld it for the first time.

However, the Pumpkinhead and the Saw-Horse,

Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride

knowing nothing of wealth and beauty, paid little
attention to the wonderful sights they saw through
their green spectacles. They calmly followed after
the green soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of
green people who stared at them in surprise. When
a green dog ran out and barked at them the Saw-
Horse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg
and sent the little animal howling into one of the
houses; but nothing more se:ious than this happened
to interrupt their progress to the royal palace.

The Pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green
marble steps and straight into the Scarecrow’s pres-
ence; but the soldier would not permit that. So
Jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant
led the Saw-Horse around to the rear while the
Soldier with the Green Whiskers escorted the Pump-
kinhead into the palace, by the front entrance.

The stranger was left in a handsomely furnished
waiting room while the soldier went to announce
hir. It so happened that at this hour His Majesty
was at leisure and greatly bored for want of some-
thing to do, so he ordered his visitor to be shown at
once into his throne room.

Jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting
the ruler of this magnificent city, for he was entirely
ignorant of all worldly customs. But when he en-

Jack Pumpkinhead’s Ride
fads Kide

tered the room and saw for the first time His
Majesty the Scarecrow seated upon his glittering

rone, he stopped short in amazement,

AZ ;
2A

the Scarecrow

I suppose every reader of this book knows what
a scarecrow is; but Jack Pumpkinhead, never having
seen such a creation, ‘vas more surprised at meeting
the remarkable King of the Emerald City than by
any other one experience of his brief life.

His Majesty the Scarecrow was dressed in a suit
of faded blue clothes, and his head was merely a
small sack stuffed with straw, upon which eyes, ears,
a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to
represent a face. The clothes were also stuffed
with straw, and that so unevenly or carelessly that
his Majesty’s legs and arms seemed more bumpy
than was necessary. Upon his hands were gloves
with long fingers, and these were padded with cot-
ton. Wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch’s

His Majesty the Scarecrow

Coat and also from his neck and boot-tops.

his head he wore a h wn set thick
with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown
caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thought-
ful expression to the painted face. Indeed, the
crown alone betokened majesty; in all else the
Scarecrow King was but a simple scarecrow
flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial,

But if the strange appearance of his Majesty the
Scarecrow seemed startling to Jack, no less won-
derful was the form of the Pumpkinhead to the
Scarecrow. The purple trousers and pink waist-
coat and red shirt hung loosely over the wooden
joints Tip had manufactured, and the carved face
on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer
considered life the jolliest thing imaginable.

At first, indeed, His Majesty thought his queer
Visitor was laughing at him, and was inclined to
resent such a liberty; but it was not without reason
that the Scarecrow had attained the reputation of
being the wisest Personage in the Land of Oz, He
made a more careful examination of his visitor, and
soon discovered that Jack’s features were carved
into a smile and that he could not look grave if he
wished to.

The King was the first to speak. After regarding

Jack for some minutes
he said, in a tone of
wonder:

“Where on earth did
you come from, and how
do you happen to be
alive?”

“I beg your Majesty’s
pardon,” returned the
Pumpkinhead; «but |
do not understand you.”

His Majesty the Scarecrow

“What don’t you understand?” asked the Scare-
crow.

“Why, I don’t understand your language. You
see, I came from the Country of the Gillikins, so
that I am a foreigner.”

“Ah, to be sure!”

nguage of the Pumpki

“Exactly so, your Majesty,” replied the other,
bowing; «so it will be impossible for us to under.
stand one another.”

“That is unfortunate, certainly,” said the Scare.
crow, thoughtfully. “We must have an interpreter,”

“What is an interpreter?” asked Jack.

“A person who understands both my language
and your own. When I say anything, the interpre-
ter can tell you what I mean; and when you say
anything the interpreter can tell me what you mean,
For the interpreter can speak both languages as
well as understand them.”

“That is certainly clever,” said Jack, greatly
pleased at finding so simpie a way out of the diff
culty, .

So the Scarecrow commanded the Soldier with
the Green Whiskers to search among his people

His Majesty the Scarecrow

} until he found one who understood the language of
the Gillikins as well as the language of the Emerald
City, and to bring that person to him at once.

When the Soldier had departed the Scarecrow said:

«Won't you take a chair while we are waiting?”

«Your Majesty forgets that I cannot understand
you,” replied the Pumpkinhead. «If you wish me
to sit down you must make a sign for me to do so.”

The Scarecrow came down from his throne and
rolled an armchair to a position behind the Pump-
kinhead. Then he gave Jack a sudden push that
sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awk-
ward a fashion that he doubled up like a jack-
knife, and had hard work to untangle himself.

«Did you understand that sign?” asked His
Majesty, politely.

“Perfectly,” declared Jack, reaching up his arms
to turn his head to the front, the pumpkin having
twisted around upon the stick that supported it.

«You seem hastily made,” remarked the Scare-
crow, watching Jack’s efforts to straighten himself.

«Not more so than your Majesty,” was the frank
reply.

“There is this difference between us,” said the
Scarecrow, “that whereas I will bend, but not
break, you will break, but not bend.”

‘ 75

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His Majesty the Scarecrow
peace scent ccc Mm Lt debate

At this moment the soldier returned leading a
young girl by the hand. She seemed very sweet
and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green
eyes and hair. A dainty green silk skirt reached to
her knees, showing silk stockings embroidered with
pea-pods, and green satin slippers with bunches of
lettuce for decorations instead of bows or buckles.
Upon her silken waist clover leaves were embroid-
ered, and she wore a jaunty little jacket trammed
with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size.

“Why, it’s little Jellia Jamb!” ezclaimed the
Scarecrow, as the green maiden bowed her pretty
head before him. «Do-you understand the language
of the Gillikins, my dear?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” she answered, “for I was
born in the North Country.”

“Then you shall be our imterpreter,” said the
Scarecrow, “and explain to this Pumpkinhead all
that I say, and also explain to me all that 4e says.
Is this arrangement satisfactory?” he asked, turning
toward his guest.

“Very satisfactory indeed,” was the reply.

“Then ask him, to begin with,” resumed the
Scarecrow, turning to Jellia, «what brought him to
the Emerald City.”

But instead of this the girl, who had been stanng
at Jack, said to him: gy

His Majesty the Scarecrow

“You are certainly a wonderful creature. Who
made you?”

“A boy named Tip,” a

“What does he say?”
“ My ears must have deceive

“He sa

and felt of his head with his left
“What a fine thing it is to understand two dif.
ferent languages,” he said, with a Perplexed sigh,
“Ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to being
put in jail for insulting the ruler of the Emerald City,
“TI didn’t insult you!” protested
“Tut—tut!” cautioned the
we got
way?”

as genially
young woman.”
ou are hungry,” said

“Qa, not at all!” answered Jack, more. pleasantly,
“for it is impossible for me to eat.”
“It’s the same way with me,” remarked the Scare-
crow. «What did he say, Jellia, my dear?”
78

His Majesty the Scarecrow

“He asked if you were aware that one of your
eyes is painted larger than the other,” said the girl,
mischievously,

“Don’t you believe her, your Majesty,” cried
Jack.

«Oh, I don’t,” answered the Scarecrow, calmly.
Then, casting a sharp look at the girl, he asked:

“Are you quite certain you understand the lan-
guages of both the Gillikins and the Munchkins?”

“Quite certain, your Majesty,” said Jellia Jamb,
trying hard not to laugh in the face of royalty.

«Then how is it that I seem to understand them
myself?” inquired the Scarecrow.

«Because they are one and the same!” declared
the girl, now laughing merrily. «Does not your
Majesty know that in all the land of Oz but one
language is spoken?”

“Is it indeed so?” cried the Scarecrow, much
relieved to hear this; «then I might easily have been
my own ny gine “

«It was my fault, your Majesty,” said Jack,
looking rather foolish, «1 thought we must surely
speak different languages, since we came from dif-
ferent countries.”

“This should be a warning to you never to
think,” reiasned the Scarecrow, severely. «For

His Majesty the Scarecrow

unless one can think wisely it is better to remain a
dummy — which you most certainly are,”
“Iam!—_] surely am!” agreed the Pumpkin
“It seems to me,” continued the
More mildly, «that your manufacturer spoiled some
good pies to create an indifferent man.”
“I assure your Majesty that I did not ask to be
created,” answered Jack.
“Ah! It was the 8
King, Pleasantly,
ordinary People,
“With all my
“What!

inative—J] might say,
a : :
Prominent figure seems to be
so i must beg you to restrain an
i » you have no
ed the Scarecrow, warnin ly.
said Jack, without in the least
comprehending,

His Majesty then dismissed Jellia Jamb and the
Soldier with the Green Whiskers, and when they
were gone he took his new friend by the arm and
led him into the courtyard to playa game of quoits,

Tip was so anxious to rejoin his man Jack and
the Saw-Horse that he walked a full half the dis-
tance to the Emerald City without stopping to rest.
Then he discovered that he was hungry and the
crackers and cheese he had provided for the jour-
ney had all been eaten.

While wondering what he should do in this
emergency he came upon a girl sitting by the road-
side. She wore a costume that struck the boy as
being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being
of emerald green and her skirt of four distinct
colors—blue in front, yellow at the left side, red
at the back and purple at the right side. Fastening

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Gen. Jinjurs Army of Revolt

the waist in front were four buttons—the top one
blue, the next yellow, a third red and the last purple.

The splendor of this dress was almost barbaric;
so Tip was fully justified in staring at the gown for
some moments before his eyes were attracted by the

Gen. Jinjurs Army of Revolt

pretty face above it. Yes, the face was pretty enough,
he decided; but it wore an expression of discontent
coupled to a shade of defiance or audacity.

While the boy stared the girl looked upon him
calmly. A lunch basket stood beside her, and she
held a dainty sandwich in one hand and a hard-
boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident
appetite that aroused Tip’s sympathy.

He was just about to ask a share of the luncheon
when the girl stood up and brushed the crumbs
from her lap.

“There!” said she; “it is time for me to go.
Carry that basket for me and help yourself to its
contents if you are hungry.”

Tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat,
following for a time the strange girl without bother-
ing to ask questions. She walked along before him
with swift strides, and there was about her an air of
decision and importance that led him to suspect
she was some great personage.

Finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran
up beside her and tried to keep pace with her swift
footsteps—a very difficult feat, for she was much
taller than he, and evidently in a hurry.

«Thank you very much for the sandwiches,” said
Tip, as he trotted along, «May I ask your name?”

Gen. Jinjur’s Army of Revolt

“I am General Jinjur,” was the brief reply.

“Oh!” said the boy, surprised. «What sort of
a General?”

“I command the Army of Revolt in this war,”
answered the General, with unnecessary sharpness.

“Oh!” he again exclaimed. “I didn’t know
there was a war.”

“You were not supposed to know it,” she
returned, “for we have kept it a secret; and con-
sidering that our army is composed entirely of girls,”
she added, with some pride, “it is surely a remarkable
thing that our Revolt is not yet discovered.”

«It is, indeed,” acknowledged Tip. «But where
is your army?”

“About a mile from here,” said General Jinjur.
“The forces have assembled from all parts of the
Land of Oz, at my express command. For this is the
day we are to conquer His Majesty the Scarecrow,
and wrest from him the throne. The Army of
Revolt only awaits my coming to march upon the
Emerald City.”

“Well!” declared Tip, drawing a long breath,
«this is certainly a surprising thing! May I ask why
rou wish to conquer His Majesty the Scarecrow?”

«Because the Emerald City has been ruled by
men long enough, for one reason,” said the girl.

Gen. Jinjur’s Army of Revolt
pectin Hebert IstaSiaRcet eet Mba IR SSB iL

“Moreover, the City glitters with beautiful gems,
which might far better be used for rings, bracelets
and necklaces; and there is enough money in the
King’s treasury to buy every girl in our Army a
dozen new gowns. So we intend to conquer the
City and run the government to suit ourselves,”

Jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and
decision that proved she was in earnest.

“But war is a terrible thing,” said Tip, thought-
fully.

“This war will be pleasant,” replied the girl,
cheerfully.

“Many of you will be slain!” continued the boy,
in an awed voice.

“Oh, no,” said Jinjur. «¥ at man would oppose
a girl, or dare to harm her? And there is not an
ugly face in my entire Army.”

Tip laughed.

“Perhaps you are right,” said he. «But the
Guardian of the Gate is considered a faithful
Guardian, and the King’s Army will not let the
City be conquered without a struggle.”

“The Army is old and feeble,” replied General
Jinjur, scornfully, «His strength has all been used
to grow whiskers, and his wife has such a temper
that she has already pulled more than half of them

Gen. Jinjur’s Army of Revolt

out by the roots. When the Wonderful Wizard
reigned the Soldier with the Green Whiskers was a
very good Royal Army, for people feared the Wiz-
ard. But no one is afraid of the Scarecrow, so his
Royal Army don’t count for mu in time of war.”

After this conversation they proceeded some dis-
tance in silence, and before long reached a large
clearing in the forest where fully four hundred
young women were assembled. These were laughing
and talking together as gaily as if they had gathered
for a picnic instead of a war of conquest.

They were divided into four companies, and Tip
noticed that all were dressed in costumes similar to
that worn by General Jinjur. The only real dif-
ference was that while those girls from the Munch-
kin country had the blue strip in front of their
skirts, those from the country of the Quadlings had
the red strip in front; and those from the country
of the Winkies had the yellow strip in front, and
the Gillikin girls wore the purple strip in front. All
had green waists, representing the Emerald City
they intended to conquer, and the top button on
each waist indicated by its color which country the
wearer came from. The uniforms were jaunty and
becoming, and quite effective when massed together.

Tip thought this strange Armv bore no weapons

whatever; but in this he was wrong.
For each girl had stuck through the
knot of her back hair two long,
glittering knitting-needles.

General Jinjur immediately
mounted the stump of a tree and
addressed her army.

“Friends, fellow-citizens, and
girls!” she said; “we are about to
begin our great Revolt against the
men of Oz! We march to conquer
the Emerald City—to dethrone the
Scarecrow King—to acquire thou-
sands of gorgeous gems—to rifle
the royal treasury— and to obtain
power over our former oppressors!”

“Hurrah!” said those who had
listened; but Tip thought most of
the Army was too much engaged in
chattering to pay attention to the
words of the General.

} The command to march was
now given, and the girls formed
themselves into four bands, or com-
panies, and set off with eager strides
toward the Emerald City.

Gen. Jinjur’s Army of Rev

The boy followed after them, carrying several
baskets and wraps and packages which various
members of the Army of Revolt had placed in his
care. It was not long before they came to tt:
green granite walls of the City and halted before
the gateway.

a RI

ste
pr
it’s
of

Gen. Jinjur's Army o+ Revolt

The Guardian of the Gate at once came out and
looked at them curious] , as if a circus had come to
town. He carried a bunch of keys swung round
his neck by a golden chain 3 his hands were thrust
carelessly into his pockets, and he seemed to have
no idea at all that the City was threatened by rebels,
Speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said:

“Good morning, my dears! What can I do for you?”

“Surrender instantly!” answered General Jinjur,
standing before him and frowning as terribly as her
pretty face would allow her to.

“Surrender!” echoed the man, astounded. «Why,
it’s impossible. It’s against the law! I never heard
of such a thing in my life.”

Gen. jinjurs Army of Revolt

“Still, you must surrender!” exclaimed the Gen-
eral, fiercely. “We are revolting!”

“You don’t look it,” said the Guardian, gazing
from one to another, admiringly.

«But we are!” cried Jinjur, stamping her foot,
impatiently; “and we mean to conquer the Emer-
ald City!”

“Good gracious!” returned the surprised Guard-
ian of the Gates; “what a nonsensical ideal Go
home to your mothers, my good girls, and milk the
cows and bake the bread. Don’t you know it’s a
dangerous thing to conquer a city?”

«We are not afraid!” responded the General;
and she looked so determined that it made the
Guardian uneasy.

So he rang the bell for the Soldier with the
Green Whiskers, and the next minute was sorry he
had done so. For immediately he was surrounded
by a crowd of girls who drew the knitting-needles
from their hair and began jaLbing them at the
Guardian with the sharo points dangerously near
his fat cheeks and blinking eyes.

The poor man howled loudly for mercy and
made no resistance when finjur drew the bunch of
keys from around his neck.

Followed by her Army the General now rushed

Gen. Jinjurs Army of Revolt |

to the gateway, where she was confronted by the
Royal Army of Oz—which was the other name for
the Soldier with the Green Whiskers.

« Halt!” he cried, and pointed his long gun full
in the face of the leader.

Some of the girls screamed and ran back, but
‘Seneral jie bravely stood her ground and said,
reproachtully:

“Why, how now? Would you shoot a poor,
abeacelen girl?”

“No,” replied the soldier; “for my gun isn’t
loaded.”

«Not loaded?”

“No; for fear of accidents. And I've forgotten
where I hid the powder and shot to load it with.
But if you'll wait a short time I'll try to “unt
them up.”

«Don’t trouble yourself,” said Jinjur, cheerfully.
Then she turned to her Army and cried:

«Girls, the gun isn’t loaded!”

“Hooray,” shrieked the rebels, delighted at this
good uews, and they proceeded to rush upon
the Soldier with the Green Whiskers in such a
crowd that it was a wonder they didn’t stick the
kritting-needles into one another.

But the Royal Army of Oz was too much afraid

Gen. jinjur’s Army of Revolt

of women to meet the onslaught. He simply
turned about and ran with all his might through
the gate and toward the royal palace, while General
Jinjur and her mob flocked into the unprotected
City.

in this way was the Emerald City captured with-
out a drop of blood being spilled. The Army of
Revolt had become an Arm, of Conquerors!

= ar G a

lcarecrow
Plans an escape

Tip slipped away from the girls and followed
swiftly after the Soldier with the Green Whiskers.
The invading army entered the City more slowly,
for they stopped to dig emeralds out of the walls
and paving-stones with the points of their knitting-
needles, So the Soldier and the boy reached the
palace before the news had spread that the City was
conquered.

The Scarecrow and Jack Pumpkinhead were still
playing at quoits in the courtyard when the game
was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of the Royal
Army of Oz, who came flying in without his hat or
gun, his clothes in sad disarray and his long beard
floating a yard behind him as he ran.

The Scarecrow Plans an Escape

“Tally one for me,” said the Scarecrow, calmly.
*What’s wrong, my man?” he added, addressing
the Soldier.

“Oh! your Majesty—your Majesty! The City
is conquered!” gasped the Royal Army, who was
all out of breath.

“This is quite sudden,” said the Scarecrow. «But
please go and bar all the doors and windows of the
palace, while I show this Pumpkinhead how to
throw a quoit.”

The Soldier hastened to do this, while Tip, who
had arrived at his heels, remained in the courtyard
to look at the Scarecrow with wondering eyes.

His Majesty continued to throw the quoits as
coolly as if no danger threatened his throne, but the
Pumpkinhead, having caught sight of Tip, ambled
toward the boy as fast as his wooden legs would go.

“Good afternoon, noble parent!” he cried, de-
lightedly. «I’m glad to see you are here. That
terrible Saw-Horse rap away with me.”

«I suspected it,” said Tip. “Did you get hurt?
Are you cracked at all?”

«No, I arrived safely,” answered Jack, «and his
Majesty has been very kind indeed to me.”

At this moment the Soldier with the Green
Whiskers returned, and the Scarecrow asked:

vs)

The Scarecrow Plans an Escape
(edi cli hha ich SE vee id 2

“By the way, who has conquered me?”

“A regiment of girls, gathered from the four
corners of the Land of Oz,” replied the Soldier,
still pale with fear.

“But where was my Standing Army at the time?”
inquired his Majesty, looking at the Soldier,
gravely.

“Your Standing Army was running,” answered
the fellow, honestly; «for no man could face the
terrible weapons of the invaders.”

“Well,” said the Scarecrow, after a moment’s
thought, «I don’t mind much the loss of my throne,
for it’s a tiresome job to rule over the Emerald
City. And this crown is so heavy that it makes
my head ache. But I hope the Conquerors have
fo intention of injuring me, just because I happen
to be the King.”

“I heard them say,” remarked T ip, with some
hesitation, «that they intend to make a rag carpet
of your outside and stuff their sofa-cushions with
your inside.”

«Then I am really in danger,” declared his
Majesty, positively, «and it will be wise for me to
consider a means to escape.”

«Where can you go?” asked Jack Pumpkinhead.

“Why, to my friend the Tin Woodman, who

rules over the Winkies, and calls himse]f “:eir Em-

eror,” was the answer. “I am sure he will
P ?
protect me.”

Tip wa- looking out of the window.
“The palace is surrounded by the enemy,” said

100

The Scarecrow Plans an Escape
ES

he. «It is too late to escape. They would soon
tear you to pieces.”

The Scarecrow sighed.

“In an emergency,” he announced, “it is always
a good thing to pause and reflect. Please excuse
me while I pause and reflect.”

“But we also are ia danger,” said the Pumpkin-
head, anxiously, «If any of these girls understand
cooking, my end is not far off!”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed the Scarecrow; “they’re
too busy to cook, even if they know how!”

“But should I remain here a prisoner for any
length of time,” protested Jack, «I’m liable to spoil.”

“Ah! then you would not be fit to associate
with,” returned the Scarecrow. “The matter is
more serious than I suspected.”

“You,” said the Pumpkinhead, gloomily, «are
liable to live for many years. My life is necessarily
short. So I must take advantage of the few days
that remain to me.”

“There, there! Don’t worry,” answered the Scare-
crow, soothingly; «if you'll keep quiet long enough
for me to think, I'll try to find some way for us all
to escape.”

So the others waited in patient silence while the
Scarecrow walked to a corner and stood with his

101

.The Scarecrow Plans an Escape

~ face to the wall for a good five minutes. At the
end of that time he faced them with a more cheer-
ful expression upon his painted face.

“Where is the Saw-Horse you rode here?” he
asked the Pumpkinhead.

“Why, I said he was a jewel, and so your man
locked him up in the royal treasury,” said Jack.

«It was the only place I could think of, your
Majesty,” added the Soldier, fearing he had made a
blunder.

«It pleases me very much,” said the Scarecrow.
«Has the animal been fed?”

«Oh, yes; 1 gave him a heaping peck of sawdust.”

‘«sExcellent!” cried the Scarecrow. “Bring the
horse here at once.”

The Soldier hastened away, and presently they
heard the clattering of the horse’s wooden legs upon
the pavement as he was led ‘nto the courtyard.

His Majesty regarded the st :ed critically.

«He doesn’t seem especially graceful,” he re-
marked, musingly; “but i suppose he can run?”

« He can, indeed,” said Tip, gazing upon the Saw-
Horse admiringly.

«Then, bearing us upon his back, he must make
a dash through the ranks of the rcbels and carry us
to my friend the Tin Woodman,” announced the
Scarecrow. 102

The Scarecrow Plans an Escape
Ratchet Mercia ti

“He can’t carry four!” objected Tip.

“No, but he may be induced to carry three,” said
his Majesty. “I shall therefore leave my Royal Army
behind. For, from the ease with which he was
conquered, I have little confidence in his powers.”

“Still, he can run,” declared Tip, laughing.

“I expected this blow,” said the Soldier, sulkily;
“but I can bear it. I shall disguise myself by cut-
ting off my lovely green whiskers. And, after all,
it is no more dangerous to face those reckless girls
than to ride this fiery, untamed wooden horse!”

“Perhaps you are right,” observed his Majesty.
“But, for my part, not being a soldier, I am fond of
danger. Now, my boy, you must mount first. And
please sit as close to the horse’s neck as possible.”

Tip climbed quickly to his place, and the Sol-
dier and the Scarecrow managed to hoist the Pump-
kinhead to a seat just behind him. There remained
so little space for the King that he was liable to
fall off as soon as the horse started.

“Fetch a clothesline,” said the King to his Army,
“and tie us all together. Then if one falls off we
will all fall off.”

And while the Soldier was gone for the clothes-
line his Majesty continued, «it is well for me to be
careful, for my very existence is in danger.”

103

The Scarecrow Plans an Escape

«I have to be as careful as you do,” said Jack.

“Not exactly,” replied the Scarecrow; “for if
anything happened to me, that would be the end
of me. But if anything happened to you, they
could use you for seed.”

The Soldier now returned with a long line and
tied ali three firmly together, also lashing them to
the body of the Saw-Horse; so there seemed little
danger of their tumbling off.

«Now throw open the gates,” commanded the
Scarecrow, “and we will make a dash to liverty or
tu death.”

The courtyard in which they were standing was
located in the center of the great palace, which
surrounded it on all sides. But in one place a pas-
sage led to an outer gateway, which the Soldier had
barred by order of his sovereign. It was through
this gateway his Majesty proposed to escape, and the
Royal Army now led the Saw-Horse along the pas-
sage and unbarred the gate, which swung backward
with a loud crash.

“Now,” said Tip to the horse, “you must save us
all, Run as fast as you can for the gate of the
City, and don’t let anything stop you.”

All right!” answered the Saw-Horse, gruffly,
and dashed away so suddenly that Tip had to gasp

104

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The Scarecrow Plans an Escape
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for breath and hold firmly to the post he had driven
into the creature's neck.

Several of the girls, who stood outside guarding
the palace, were knocked over by the Saw-Horse’s
mad rush. Others ran screaming out of the way,
and only one or two jabbed their knitting-needles
frantically at the escaping prisoners. Tip got one
small prick in his left arm, which smarted for an
hour afterward; but the needles had no effect upon
the Scarecrow or Jack Pumpkinhead, who never
even suspected they were being prodded.

As for the Saw-Horse, he made a wonderful
record, upsetting a fruit cart, overturning several
meek looking men, and finally bowling over the
new Guardian of the Gate—a fussy little fat woman
appointed by General jinjur.

Nor did the impetuous charger stop then. Once
outside the walls of the Emerald City he dashed
along the road to the West with fast and violent
leaps that shook the breath out of the boy and
filled the Scarecrow with wonder.

Jack had ridden at this mad rate once before, so
he devoted every effort to holding, with both hands,
his pumpkin head upon its stick, erduring mean-
time the dreadful jolting with the courage of a
philosopher.

106

THE WOODEN STEED GAVE ONE FINA. \4P.,

The Scarecrow Plans an Escape

“Slow him up! Slow him up!” shouted the
Scarecrow. “My straw is all shaking down into
my legs.”

But Tip had no breath to speak, so the Saw-
Horse continued his wild career unchecked and with
unabated speed.

Presently tl. » came to the banks of a wide river,
and without a pause the wooden steed gave one
final leap and launched them all in mid-air.

A second later they were rolling, splashing and
bobbing about in the water, the horse struggling
frantically to find a rest for its feet and its riders
being firs: plunged beneath the rapid current and
then floating upon the surface like corks.

Tin Woodman

Tip was well soaked and dripping water from
every angle of his body; but he managed to lean
‘orward and shout in the ear of the Saw-Horse:

“Keep still, you fool! Keep still!”

The horse at once ceased strugg'ing and lated
calmly upon the surface, its wooden body being as
buoyant as a raft.

“What does that word ‘fool’ mean?” enquired
the horse.

“Tt is a term of reproach,” answered Tip, some-
what ashamed of the expression. «I only use it
when I am angry.”

“Then it pleases me to be able to call you a fool,
in return,” said the horse. “For I did not make

109

The Journey to the Tin Woodman

the river, nor put it in our way; so only a term of
reproach is fit for one who becomes angry with me
for falling into the water.”

“That is quite evident,” replied Tip; “so I will
acknowledge myself in the wrong.” Then he called
out to the Pumpkinhead: “are you all right, Jack?”

There was no retly. So the boy called to the
King: “are you all .:ght, your majesty?”

The Scarecrow groaned.

“I’m all wrong, somehow,” he said, in a weak
voice. ‘How very wet this water is!”

Tip was bound so tightly by the cord that he
could not turn his head to look at his companions;
so he said to the Saw-Horse:

«Paddle with your legs toward the shore.”

The horse obeyed, and although their progress
was slow they finally reached the opposite river
bank at a place where it was low enough to enable
the creature to scramble upon dry land.

With some difficulty the boy managed to get his
knife out of his pocket and cut the cords that
bound the riders to one another and to the wooden
horse. He heard the Scarecrow fall to the ground
with a mushy sound, and then he himself quickly
dismounted and looked at his friend Jack.

The wooden body, with its gorgeous clothing,

, 0

The Journey to the Tin Woodman

still sat upright upon the horse’s back; but the
pumpkin head was gone, and only the sharpened
stick that served for a neck was visible. As for the
Scarecrow, the straw in his body had shaken down
with the jolting and packed itself into his legs and
the lower part of his body—which appeared very
plump and round while his upper half seemed like
an empty sack. Upon his head the Scarecrow still
wore the heavy crown, which had been sewed on to
prevent his losing it; but the head was now so damp
and limp that the weight of the gold and jewels
sagged forward and crushed the painted face into a
mass of wrinkles that made him look exactly like a
Japanese pug dog.

Tip would have laughed—had he not been so
anxious about his man Jack. But the Scarecrow,
however damaged, was all there, while the pumpkin
head that was so necessary to Jack’s existence was
missing; so the boy seized a long pole that fortu-
nately lay near at hand and anxiously turned again
toward the river.

Far out upon the waters he sighted the golden
hue of the pumpkin, which gently bobbed up and
down with the motion of the waves. At that mo-
ment it was quite out of Tip’s reach, but after a
time it floated nearer and still nearer until the boy

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The Journey to the Tin Woodman

was able to reach it with his pole and draw it to the
shore. Then he brought it to the top of the bank,
carefully wiped the water from its pumpkin face with
his handkerchief, and ran with it to Jack and re-
placed the head upon the man’s neck.

“Dear me!” were Jack’s first words. «What a
dreadful experience! I wonder if water is liable to
spoil pumpkins?”

Tip did not think a reply was necessary, for he
knew that the Scarecrow also stood in need of his
help. So he carefully removed the straw from the
King’s body and legs, and spread it out in the sun
to dry. The wet clothing he hung over the body
of the Saw-Horse.

“If water spoils pumpkins,” observed Jack, with
a deep sigh, “then my days are numbered.”

“T’ve never noticed that wa’ - spoils pumpkins,”
returned Tip; “unless the water happens to be boil-
ing. If your head isn’t cracked, my friend, you
must be in fairly good condition.”

««Oh, my head isn’t cracked in the least,” declared
Jack, more cheerfully.

“Then don’t worry,” retorted the boy. “Care
once killed a cat.”

“Then,” said Jack, seriously, «I am very glad indeed
that I am not a cat.”

113

The Journey to the Tin Woodiaan

The sun was fast drying their clothing, and Tip
stirred up his Majesty’s straw so that the warm rays
might absorb the moisture and make it as crisp and
dry as ever. When this had been accomplished he
stuffed the Scarecrow intc symmetrical shape and
smoothed out his face so that he wore his usual gay
and charming expression.

“Thank you very much,” said the monarch,
brightly, as he walked about and found himself to
be well balanced. «There are several distinct ad-
vantages in being a Scarecrow. For if one has
friends near at hand to repair damages, nothing
very serious can happen to you.”

«J wonder if hot sunshine is liable to crack
pumpkins,” said Jack, with au anxious ring in his voice.

«Not at all—not at all!” replied the Scarecrow,
gaily. “All you need fear, my boy, is old age. When
your golden youth has decayed we shall quickly