When Dorothy was left alone she began to feel hungry. So she went inside the house and got some bread and butter from the cupboard. She gave some of it to Toto. She then took a pail from the shelf and carried it down to the little brook and filled it with water. Then she saw some fruits on the trees and decided to get them for her breakfast.
Then she went back to the house, and having helped herself and Toto to some food and water, she set about making ready for the journey to the City of Emeralds.
Dorothy had only one other dress. It was gingham, with checks of white and blue; and although the blue was somewhat faded with many washings, it was still pretty. The girl washed herself carefully and dressed herself in the clean dress. She took a little basket and filled it with bread from the cupboard, laying a white cloth over the top. Then she looked down at her feet and noticed how old and worn her shoes were.
“They surely will fall apart in the long journey, Toto,” she said.
At that moment Dorothy saw lying on the table the silver shoes that had belonged to the Witch of the East.
“I wonder if they will fit me,” she said to Toto.
She tried on the silver ones, and they fit her so well as if they had been made for her.
Finally she picked up her basket.
“Come along, Toto,” she said. “We will go to the Emerald City and ask the Great Oz how to get back to Kansas again.”
She closed the door, locked it, and put the key carefully in the pocket of her dress. And so they started their journey.
There were several roads nearby, but they took the one paved with yellow bricks. Within a short time she was walking briskly toward the Emerald City. The sun shone bright and the birds sang sweetly.
She was surprised how pretty this country was. There were neat fences at the sides of the road, painted blue, and beyond them were fields of grain and vegetables. The Munchkins were good farmers. Once in a while she would pass a house, and the people came out to look at her. The houses of the Munchkins were round, with big domes for roofs. All were painted blue, for in this country of the East blue was the favorite color.
Toward evening, when Dorothy began to wonder where she should pass the night, she came to a house larger than the rest. On the green lawn before it many men and women were dancing. Five little fiddlers played as loudly as possible, and the people were laughing and singing. There was a big table nearby, with delicious fruits and nuts, pies and cakes, and many other good things to eat.
The people greeted Dorothy kindly, and invited her to pass the night with them.
Dorothy stayed with the Munchkins, she ate and talked to them, and then she went to sleep in the house, with Toto curled up on the blue rug beside her.
The next morning she told the Munchkins good-bye, and again started along the road of yellow brick. When she had gone several miles she decided to rest. There was a great cornfield nearby, and not far away she saw a Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep the birds from the ripe corn.
Dorothy looked at the Scarecrow. Its head was a small sack stuffed with straw, with eyes, nose, and mouth painted on it to represent a face. Ih has an old, pointed blue hat and a blue suit of clothes, worn and faded, which had also been stuffed with straw. On its feet were some old boots with blue tops.
While Dorothy was looking at the Scarecrow, she was surprised to see one of the eyes slowly wink at her. She thought she must have been mistaken at first, but then the figure nodded its head to her in a friendly way. Dorothy walked up to it, while Toto ran around the pole and barked.
“Good day,” said the Scarecrow.
“Did you speak?” asked the girl, in wonder.
“Certainly,” answered the Scarecrow. “How do you do?”
“I’m pretty well, thank you,” replied Dorothy politely. “How do you do?”
“I’m not feeling well,” said the Scarecrow, with a smile, “for it is very tedious being perched up here night and day to scare away crows.”
“Can’t you get down?” asked Dorothy.
“No, for this pole is stuck up my back. If you will please take away the pole I shall be thankful.”
Dorothy reached up both arms and lifted the figure off the pole. He was stuffed with straw and was quite light.
“Thank you very much,” said the Scarecrow. “I feel like a new man. Who are you? And where are you going?”
“My name is Dorothy,” said the girl, “and I am going to the Emerald City, to ask the Great Oz to send me back to Kansas.”
“Where is the Emerald City?” he inquired. “And who is Oz?”
“Why, don’t you know?” she returned, in surprise.
“No, indeed. I don’t know anything. You see, I am stuffed, so I have no brains at all,” he answered sadly.
“Oh,” said Dorothy, “I’m awfully sorry for you.”
“Do you think,” he asked, “if I go to the Emerald City with you, that Oz would give me some brains? You see, I don’t mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed, because I cannot get hurt. But I do not want people to call me a fool, and if my head stays stuffed with straw instead of with brains, as yours is, how am I ever to know anything?”
“I understand,” said the little girl, who was truly sorry for him. “If you will come with me I’ll ask Oz to do all he can for you.”
“Thank you,” he answered gratefully.
They walked back to the road and started along the path of yellow brick for the Emerald City.
Toto did not like this addition to the party at first. He smelled around the stuffed man and often growled in an unfriendly way at the Scarecrow.
“Don’t mind Toto,” said Dorothy to her new friend. “He never bites.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” replied the Scarecrow. “He can’t hurt the straw. Do let me carry that basket for you. I shall not mind it, for I can’t get tired. I’ll tell you a secret,” he continued, as he walked along. “There is only one thing in the world I am afraid of.”
“What is that?” asked Dorothy.
“A lighted match,” answered the Scarecrow.
After a few hours the road began to be rough, and it was difficult to walk. Some bricks were broken or missing altogether. Toto was jumping across the holes in the road and Dorothy walked around. As for the Scarecrow, having no brains, he walked straight ahead, and so stepped into the holes and fell at full length on the hard bricks. It didn’t hurt him, however, and Dorothy would pick him up and set him upon his feet again.
The farms here were not nearly as well cared as before. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees.
At noon they sat down by the roadside, near a little brook, and Dorothy opened her basket and got out some bread. She offered a piece to the Scarecrow, but he refused.
“I am never hungry,” he said.
Dorothy nodded and went on eating her bread.
“Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from,” said the Scarecrow, when she had finished her dinner. So she told him all about Kansas, and how gray everything was there, and how the cyclone had carried her to the Land of Oz.
The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, “I cannot understand why you want to leave this beautiful country and go back to Kansas.”
“No matter how dreary and gray our homes are, there is no place like home.”
The Scarecrow sighed.
“I cannot understand it,” he said.
They went on. There were no fences at all by the roadside now, and the land was rough. Toward evening they came to a great forest, where the trees grew big and close together. It was almost dark under the trees, for the branches shut out the daylight; but the travelers did not stop, and went on into the forest.
“If this road goes in, it must come out,” said the Scarecrow, “and as the Emerald City is at the other end of the road. We must go wherever it leads us.”
“Anyone would know that,” said Dorothy.
“Certainly; that is why I know it,” returned the Scarecrow. “If it required brains to figure it out, I never should have said it.”
After an hour or so all the light faded away, and they found themselves in the darkness. Dorothy could not see at all, but Toto could, for some dogs see very well in the dark. The Scarecrow declared he could see as well as by day. So she took his arm and managed to get along fairly well.
“If you see any house, or any place where we can pass the night,” she said, “you must tell me.”
Soon after the Scarecrow stopped.
“I see a little cottage at the right of us,” he said, “built of logs and branches. Shall we go there?”
“Yes, indeed,” answered the child. “I am tired.”
The Scarecrow led her through the trees to the cottage. Inside, Dorothy found a bed of dried leaves in one corner. She lay down at once, and Toto lied down beside her. The Scarecrow, who was never tired, stood up in another corner and waited patiently until morning came.
When Dorothy awoke the sun was shining through the trees and Toto had long been out chasing birds around him and squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. The Scarecrow was still standing in his corner, waiting for her.
“We must go and search for water,” she said to him.
“Why do you want water?” he asked.
“To wash my face clean after the dust of the road, and to drink.”
“It must be inconvenient to be made of flesh,” said the Scarecrow thoughtfully, “for you must sleep, and eat and drink. However, you have brains, and it is worth a lot.”
They left the cottage and walked through the trees until they found a little spring of clear water, where Dorothy drank and bathed and ate her breakfast. She saw there was not much bread left in the basket, and the girl was thankful the Scarecrow did not have to eat anything.
When she had finished her meal, and was about to go back to the road of yellow brick, she heard a deep groan nearby.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I cannot imagine,” replied the Scarecrow; “but we can go and see.”
Just then they heard another groan. They turned and walked through the forest a few steps, when Dorothy saw something shining in a ray of sunshine that fell between the trees. She ran to the place and then stopped, with a little cry of surprise.
One of the big trees had been partly chopped through, and standing beside it, with an uplifted axe in his hands, was a man made entirely of tin. He stood perfectly motionless, as if he could not move at all.
Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while Toto barked loudly.
“Did you groan?” asked Dorothy.
“Yes,” answered the tin man, “I did. I’ve been groaning for more than a year, and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me.”
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“Get an oil-can and oil my joints,” he answered. “They are rusted so badly that I cannot move them at all. You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage.”
Dorothy at once ran back to the cottage and found the oil-can, and then returned.
“Oil my neck, first,” replied the Tin Woodman. So she oiled it.
“Now oil the joints in my arms,” he said. And Dorothy oiled them and the Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were free from rust.
The Tin Woodman gave a sigh of satisfaction and lowered his axe, which he leaned against the tree.
“This is a great comfort,” he said. “I have been holding that axe in the air ever since I rusted, and I’m glad to be able to put it down at last. Now, if you will oil the joints of my legs, I shall be all right once more.”
So they oiled his legs until he could move them freely; and he thanked them again and again.
“I might have stood there always if you had not come along,” he said; “so you have certainly saved my life. What are you doing here?”
“We are on our way to the Emerald City to see the Great Oz,” she answered, “and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night.”
“Why do you wish to see Oz?” he asked.
“I want him to send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants him to put a few brains into his head,” she replied.
The Tin Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said:
“Do you suppose Oz could give me a heart?”
“Why, I guess so,” Dorothy answered. “It would be as easy as to give the Scarecrow brains.”
“True,” the Tin Woodman returned. “If you will allow me to join your party, I will also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz to help me.”
“Come along,” said the Scarecrow. So the Tin Woodman took his axe and they all passed through the forest until they came back to the road paved with yellow brick.
The Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in her basket, in case he gets caught in the rain again.
It was lucky that he joined them, for soon they came to a place where the trees and branches grew so thick over the road that the travelers could not pass. But the Tin Woodman set to work with his axe and chopped through it.
As they were walking, the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled over to the side of the road again. Dorothy helped him up.
“Why didn’t you walk around the hole?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“I don’t know enough,” replied the Scarecrow cheerfully. “My head is stuffed with straw, you know, and that is why I am going to Oz to ask him for some brains.”
“Oh, I see,” said the Tin Woodman. “But, after all, brains are not the best things in the world.”
“Have you any?” inquired the Scarecrow.
“No, my head is quite empty,” answered the Woodman. “But once I had brains, and a heart also; so, having tried them both, I’d rather have a heart.”
“And why is that?” asked the Scarecrow.
“I will tell you my story, and then you will know. I was born the son of a woodman who chopped down trees in the forest and sold the wood for a living. When I grew up, I too became a woodchopper, and after my father died I took care of my old mother as long as she lived. Then I decided that instead of living alone I would marry, so that I might not become lonely.
“There was one of the Munchkin girls that I loved with all my heart. She promised to marry me as soon as I could earn enough money to build a better house for her; so I set to work harder than ever. But the girl lived with an old woman who did not want her to marry anyone. She was lazy and wanted the girl to remain with her and do the cooking and the housework. So the old woman went to the Wicked Witch of the East, and promised her two sheep and a cow if she would prevent the marriage. The Wicked Witch enchanted my axe, and when I was chopping wood one day, it slipped out of my hands and cut off my left leg.
“I went to a tinsmith and had him make me a new leg out of tin. The leg worked very well, once I was used to it. But it angered the Wicked Witch of the East. So, when I began chopping again, my axe slipped and cut off my right leg. Again I went to the tinsmith, and again he made me a leg out of tin. After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after the other; but I replaced them with tin ones. The Wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my head, and at first I thought that was the end of me. But the tinsmith happened to come along, and he made me a new head out of tin.
“I thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch then, and I worked harder than ever. But she was cruel. She made my axe slip again, so that it cut right through my body, splitting me into two halves. Once more the tinsmith came to my help and made me a body of tin. But now I had now no heart, and so I lost all my love for the Munchkin girl.
“My body shone so brightly in the sun that I felt very proud of it. There was only one danger–that my joints would rust. There came a day when I forgot to oil them, and, being caught in a rainstorm, they had rusted, and I was left to stand in the woods until you came to help me. It was terrible, but during the year I stood there I had time to think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my heart. While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one can love who has not a heart, and so I want to ask Oz to give me one. If he does, I will go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her.”
Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow were very interested in the story of the Tin Woodman.
“All the same,” said the Scarecrow, “I shall ask for brains instead of a heart.”
“I shall take the heart,” returned the Tin Woodman.
Dorothy did not say anything, for she decided she only wanted to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em.
What worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone. Neither the Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate anything, but unlike them, she was not made of tin nor straw.