“I think you are a very bad man,” said Dorothy.
“Oh, no, my dear; I’m really a very good man; but I’m a very bad Wizard, I must admit.”
“Can’t you give me brains?” asked the Scarecrow.
“You don’t need them. You are learning something every day. A baby has brains, but it doesn’t know much. Experience is the only thing that brings knowledge, and the longer you are on earth the more experience you are sure to get.”
“That may all be true,” said the Scarecrow, “but I shall be very unhappy unless you give me brains.”
The false Wizard looked at him carefully.
“Well,” he said, with a sigh, “I’m not much of a magician, as I said; but if you will come to me to-morrow morning, I will stuff your head with brains. I cannot tell you how to use them, however; you must find that out for yourself.”
“Oh, thank you—thank you!” cried the Scarecrow. “I’ll find a way to use them, never fear!”
“But how about my courage?” asked the Lion, anxiously.
“You have plenty of courage, I am sure,” answered Oz. “All you need is confidence in yourself. There is no living thing that is not afraid when it faces danger. True courage is in facing danger when you are afraid, and that kind of courage you have in plenty.”
“Perhaps I have, but I’m scared just the same,” said the Lion. “I shall really be very unhappy unless you give me the sort of courage that makes one forget he is afraid.”
“Very well; I will give you that sort of courage to-morrow,” replied Oz.
“How about my heart?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“Why, as for that,” answered Oz, “I think you are wrong to want a heart. It makes most people unhappy. If you only knew it, you are in luck not to have a heart.”
“That must be a matter of opinion,” said the Tin Woodman. “For my part, I will bear all the unhappiness without a murmur, if you will give me the heart.”
“Very well,” answered Oz meekly. “Come to me tomorrow and you shall have a heart. I have played Wizard for so many years that I may as well continue the part a little longer.”
“And now,” said Dorothy, “how am I to get back to Kansas?”
“We shall have to think about that,” replied the little man. “Give me two or three days to consider the matter and I’ll try to find a way to carry you over the desert. In the meantime you shall all be treated as my guests, and while you live in the Palace my people will wait upon you and obey your slightest wish. There is only one thing I ask in return for my help—such as it is. You must keep my secret and tell no one I am a humbug.”
They agreed to say nothing of what they had learned, and went back to their rooms in high spirits. Even Dorothy had hope that “The Great and Terrible Humbug,” as she called him, would find a way to send her back to Kansas, and if he did she was willing to forgive him everything.
Chapter XVI.
The Magic Art of
the Great Humbug.
NEXT MORNING THE Scarecrow said to his friends:
“Congratulate me. I am going to Oz to get my brains at last. When I return I shall be as other men are.”
“I have always liked you as you were,” said Dorothy, simply.
“It is kind of you to like a Scarecrow,” he replied. “But surely you will think more of me when you hear the splendid thoughts my new brain is going to turn out.” Then he said good-bye to them all in a cheerful voice and went to the Throne Room, where he rapped upon the door.
“Come in,” said Oz.
The Scarecrow went in and found the little man sitting down by the window, engaged in deep thought.
“I have come for my brains,” remarked the Scarecrow, a little uneasily.
“Oh, yes; sit down in that chair, please,” replied Oz. “You must excuse me for taking your head off, but I shall have to do it in order to put your brains in their proper place.”
“That’s all right,” said the Scarecrow. “You are quite welcome to take my head off, as long as it will be a better one when you put it on again.”
So the Wizard unfastened his head and emptied out the straw. Then he entered the back room and took up a measure of bran, which he mixed with a great many pins and needles. Having shaken them together thoroughly, he filled the top of the Scarecrow’s head with the mixture and stuffed the rest of the space with straw, to hold it in place. When he had fastened the Scarecrow’s head on his body again he said to him,
“Hereafter you will be a great man, for I have given you a lot of bran-new brains.”
The Scarecrow was both pleased and proud at the fulfillment of his greatest wish, and having thanked Oz warmly he went back to his friends.
Dorothy looked at him curiously. His head was quite bulged out at the top with brains.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“I feel wise indeed,” he answered, earnestly. “When I get used to my brains I shall know everything.”
“Why are those needles and pins sticking out of your head?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“That is proof that he is sharp,” remarked the Lion.
“Well, I must go to Oz and get my heart,” said the Woodman. So he walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.
“Come in,” called Oz, and the Woodman entered and said,
“I have come for my heart.”
“Very well,” answered the little man. “But I shall have to cut a hole in your breast, so I can put your heart in the right place. I hope it won’t hurt you.”
“Oh, no;” answered the Woodman. “I shall not feel it at all.”
So Oz brought a pair of tinners’ shears and cut a small, square hole in the left side of the Tin Woodman’s breast. Then, going to a chest of drawers, he took out a pretty heart, made entirely of silk and stuffed with sawdust.
“Isn’t it a beauty?” he asked.
“It is, indeed!” replied the Woodman, who was greatly pleased. “But is it a kind heart?”
“Oh, very!” answered Oz. He put the heart in the Woodman’s breast and then replaced the square of tin, soldering it neatly together where it had been cut.
“There,” said he; “now you have a heart that any man might be proud of. I’m sorry I had to put a patch on your breast, but it really couldn’t be helped.”
“Never mind the patch,” exclaimed the happy Woodman. “I am very grateful to you, and shall never forget your kindness.”
“Don’t speak of it,” replied Oz.
Then the Tin Woodman went back to his friends, who wished him every joy on account of his good fortune.
The Lion now walked to the Throne Room and knocked at the door.
“Come in,” said Oz.
“I have come for my courage,” announced the Lion, entering the room.
“Very well,” answered the little man; “I will get it for you.”
He went to a cupboard and reaching up to a high shelf took down a square green bottle, the contents of which he poured into a green-gold dish, beautifully carved. Placing this before the Cowardly Lion, who sniffed at it as if he did not like it, the Wizard said,
“Drink.”
“What is it?” asked the Lion.
“Well,” answered Oz, “if it were inside of you, it would be courage. You know, of course, that courage is always inside one; so that this really cannot be called courage until you have swallowed it. Therefore I advise you to drink it as soon as possible.”
The Lion hesitated no longer, but drank till the dish was empty.
“How do you feel now?” asked Oz.
“Full of courage,” replied the Lion, who went joyfully back to his friends to tell them of his good fortune.
Oz, left to himself, smiled to think of his success in giving the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman and the Lion exactly what they thought they wanted. “How can I help being a humbug,” he said, “when all these people make me do things that everybody knows can’t be done? It was easy to make the Scarecrow and the Lion and the Woodman
happy, because they imagined I could do anything. But it will take more than imagination to carry Dorothy back to Kansas, and I’m sure I don’t know how it can be done.”
Chapter XVII.
How the Balloon
was Launched.
FOR THREE DAYS Dorothy heard nothing from Oz. These were sad days for the little girl, although her friends were all quite happy and contented. The Scarecrow told them there were wonderful thoughts in his head; but he would not say what they were because he knew no one could understand them but himself. When the Tin Woodman walked about he felt his heart rattling around in his breast; and he told Dorothy he had discovered it to be a kinder and more tender heart than the one he had owned when he was made of flesh. The Lion declared he was afraid of nothing on earth, and would gladly face an army of men or a dozen of the fierce Kalidahs.
Thus each of the little party was satisfied except Dorothy, who longed more than ever to get back to Kansas.
On the fourth day, to her great joy, Oz sent for her, and when she entered the Throne Room he said, pleasantly:
“Sit down, my dear; I think I have found the way to get you out of this country.”
“And back to Kansas?” she asked, eagerly.
“Well, I’m not sure about Kansas,” said Oz; “for I haven’t the faintest notion which way it lies. But the first thing to do is to cross the desert, and then it should be easy to find your way home.”
“How can I cross the desert?” she enquired.
“Well, I’ll tell you what I think,” said the little man. “You see, when I came to this country it was in a balloon. You also came through the air, being carried by a cyclone. So I believe the best way to get across the desert will be through the air. Now, it is quite beyond my powers to make a cyclone; but I’ve been thinking the matter over, and I believe I can make a balloon.”
“How?” asked Dorothy.
“A balloon,” said Oz, “is made of silk, which is coated with glue to keep the gas in it. I have plenty of silk in the Palace, so it will be no trouble for us to make the balloon. But in all this country there is no gas to fill the balloon with, to make it float.”
“If it won’t float,” remarked Dorothy, “it will be of no use to us.”
“True,” answered Oz. “But there is another way to make it float, which is to fill it with hot air. Hot air isn’t as good as gas, for if the air should get cold the balloon would come down in the desert, and we should be lost.”
“We!” exclaimed the girl; “are you going with me?”
“Yes, of course,” replied Oz. “I am tired of being such a humbug. If I should go out of this Palace my people would soon discover I am not a Wizard, and then they would be vexed with me for having deceived them. So I have to stay shut up in these rooms all day, and it gets tiresome. I’d much rather go back to Kansas with you and be in a circus again.”
“I shall be glad to have your company,” said Dorothy.
“Thank you,” he answered. “Now, if you will help me sew the silk together, we will begin to work on our balloon.”
So Dorothy took a needle and thread, and as fast as Oz cut the strips of silk into proper shape the girl sewed them neatly together. First there was a strip of light green silk, then a strip of dark green and then a strip of emerald green; for Oz had a fancy to make the balloon in different shades of the color about them. It took three days to sew all the strips together, but when it was finished they had a big bag of green silk more than twenty feet long.
Then Oz painted it on the inside with a coat of thin glue, to make it air-tight, after which he announced that the balloon was ready.
“But we must have a basket to ride in,” he said. So he sent the soldier with the green whiskers for a big clothes basket, which he fastened with many ropes to the bottom of the balloon.
When it was all ready, Oz sent word to his people that he was going to make a visit to a great brother Wizard who lived in the clouds. The news spread rapidly throughout the city and everyone came to see the wonderful sight.
Oz ordered the balloon carried out in front of the Palace, and the people gazed upon it with much curiosity. The Tin Woodman had chopped a big pile of wood, and now he made a fire of it, and Oz held the bottom of the balloon over the fire so that the hot air that arose from it would be caught in the silken bag. Gradually the balloon swelled out and rose into the air, until finally the basket just touched the ground.
Then Oz got into the basket and said to all the people in a loud voice:
“I am now going away to make a visit. While I am gone the Scarecrow will rule over you. I command you to obey him as you would me.”
The balloon was by this time tugging hard at the rope that held it to the ground, for the air within it was hot, and this made it so much lighter in weight than the air without that it pulled hard to rise into the sky.
“Come, Dorothy!” cried the Wizard; “hurry up, or the balloon will fly away.”
“I can’t find Toto anywhere,” replied Dorothy, who did not wish to leave her little dog behind. Toto had run into the crowd to bark at a kitten, and Dorothy at last found him. She picked him up and ran toward the balloon.
She was within a few steps of it, and Oz was holding out his hands to help her into the basket, when, crack! went the ropes, and the balloon rose into the air without her.
“Come back!” she screamed; “I want to go, too!”
“I can’t come back, my dear,” called Oz from the basket. “Good-bye!”
“Good-bye!” shouted everyone, and all eyes were turned upward to where the Wizard was riding in the basket, rising every moment farther and farther into the sky.
And that was the last any of them ever saw of Oz, the Wonderful Wizard, though he may have reached Omaha safely, and be there now, for all we know. But the people remembered him lovingly, and said to one another,
“Oz was always our friend. When he was here he built for us this beautiful Emerald City, and now he is gone he has left the Wise Scarecrow to rule over us.”
Still, for many days they grieved over the loss of the Wonderful Wizard, and would not be comforted.
Chapter XVIII.
Away to the
South.
DOROTHY WEPT BITTERLY at the passing of her hope to get home to Kansas again; but when she thought it all over she was glad she had not gone up in a balloon. And she also felt sorry at losing Oz, and so did her companions.
The Tin Woodman came to her and said,
“Truly I should be ungrateful if I failed to mourn for the man who gave me my lovely heart. I should like to cry a little because Oz is gone, if you will kindly wipe away my tears, so that I shall not rust.”
“With pleasure,” she answered, and brought a towel at once. Then the Tin Woodman wept for several minutes, and she watched the tears carefully and wiped them away with the towel. When he had finished, he thanked her kindly and oiled himself thoroughly with his jeweled oil-can, to guard against mishap.
The Scarecrow was now the ruler of the Emerald City, and although he was not a Wizard the people were proud of him. “For,” they said, “there is not another city in all the world that is ruled by a stuffed man.” And, so far as they knew, they were quite right.
The morning after the balloon had gone up with Oz,the four travellers met in the Throne Room and talked matters over. The Scarecrow sat in the big throne and the others stood respectfully before him.
“We are not so unlucky,” said the new ruler; “for this Palace and the Emerald City belong to us, and we can do just as we please. When I remember that a short time ago I was up on a pole in a farmer’s cornfield, and that I am now the ruler of this beautiful City, I am quite satisfied with my lot.”
“I also,” said the Tin Woodman, “am well pleased with my new heart; and, really, that was the only thing I wished in all the world.”
“For my part, I am content in knowing I am as brave as any beast that ever lived, if not braver,” said the Lion, modestly.
“If D
orothy would only be contented to live in the Emerald City,” continued the Scarecrow, “we might all be happy together.”
“But I don’t want to live here,” cried Dorothy. “I want to go to Kansas, and live with Aunt Em and Uncle Henry.”
“Well, then, what can be done?” enquired the Woodman.
The Scarecrow decided to think, and he thought so hard that the pins and needles began to stick out of his brains. Finally he said;
“Why not call the Winged Monkeys, and ask them to carry you over the desert?”
“I never thought of that!” said Dorothy, joyfully. “It’s just the thing. I’ll go at once for the Golden Cap.”
When she brought it into the Throne Room she spoke the magic words, and soon the band of Winged Monkeys flew in through the open window and stood beside her.
“This is the second time you have called us,” said the Monkey King, bowing before the little girl. “What do you wish?”
“I want you to fly with me to Kansas,” said Dorothy.
But the Monkey King shook his head.
“That cannot be done,” he said. “We belong to this country alone, and cannot leave it. There has never been a Winged Monkey in Kansas yet, and I suppose there never will be, for they don’t belong there. We shall be glad to serve you in any way in our power, but we cannot cross the desert. Good-bye.”