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"But you were the King until she
came," said the Woggle-Bug, strutting up and down with his hands in his
pockets; "so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of
you." "Especially as we have just
conquered her and put her to flight," added the Pumpkinhead, as he
raised
his hands to turn his face toward the Scarecrow. "Have we really conquered her?"
asked the Scarecrow, quietly. "Look out of the window, and tell me what
you see." Tip ran to the window and looked out. "The palace is surrounded by a
double row of girl soldiers," he announced. "I thought so," returned the
Scarecrow. "We are as truly their prisoners as we were before the mice
frightened them from the palace." "My friend is right," said Nick
Chopper, who had been polishing his breast with a bit of
chamois-leather.
"Jinjur is still the Queen, and we are her prisoners." "But I hope she cannot get at
us," exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, with a shiver of fear. "She
threatened to make tarts of me, you know." "Don't worry," said the Tin
Woodman. "It cannot matter greatly. If you stay shut up here you will
spoil
in time, anyway. A good tart is far more admirable than a decayed
intellect." "Very true," agreed the
Scarecrow. "Oh, dear!" moaned Jack;
"what an unhappy lot is mine! Why, dear father, did you not make me out
of
tin — or even out of straw — so that I would keep indefinitely." "Shucks!" returned Tip,
indignantly. "You ought to be glad that I made you at all." Then he
added, reflectively, "everything has to come to an end, some time." "But I beg to remind you,"
broke in the Woggle-Bug, who had a distressed look in his bulging,
round eyes,
"that this terrible Queen Jinjur suggested making a goulash of me — Me!
the only Highly Magnified and Thoroughly Educated Woggle-Bug in the
wide, wide
world!" "I think it was a brilliant
idea," remarked the Scarecrow, approvingly. "Don't you imagine he would make a
better soup?" asked the Tin Woodman, turning toward his friend. "Well, perhaps," acknowledged
the Scarecrow. The Woggle-Bug groaned. "I can see, in my mind's eye,"
said he, mournfully, "the goats eating small pieces of my dear comrade,
the Tin Woodman, while my soup is being cooked on a bonfire built of
the
Saw-Horse and Jack Pumpkinhead's body, and Queen Jinjur watches me boil
while
she feeds the flames with my friend the Scarecrow!" This morbid picture cast a gloom over the
entire party, making them restless and anxious. "It can't happen for some
time," said the Tin Woodman, trying to speak cheerfully; "for we
shall be able to keep Jinjur out of the palace until she manages to
break down
the doors." "And in the meantime I am liable to
starve to death, and so is the Woggle- Bug," announced Tip. "As for me," said the
Woggle-Bug, "I think that I could live for some time on Jack
Pumpkinhead.
Not that I prefer pumpkins for food; but I believe they are somewhat
nutritious, and Jack's head is large and plump." This cast a gloom over the entire party. "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. |