"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."
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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!"
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"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.
Next chapter...
( The Astonishing Flight of the
Gump)
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