The Marvelous Land of Oz
You might think that was the end of the Gump; and so it was, as a
flying-machine. But the head over the mantle-piece continued to talk
whenever it took a notion to do so, and it frequently startled, with
its abrupt questions, the people who waited in the hall for an audience
with the Queen.
The Saw-Horse, being Ozma’s personal property, was tenderly cared for;
and often she rode the queer creature along the streets of the Emerald
City. She had its wooden legs shod with gold, to keep them from wearing
out, and the tinkle of these golden shoes upon the pavement always
filled the Queen’s subjects with awe as they thought upon this evidence
of her magical powers.
“The Wonderful Wizard was never so wonderful as Queen Ozma,” the people
said to one another, in whispers; “for he claimed to do many things he
could not do; whereas our new Queen does many things no one would ever
expect her to accomplish.”
Jack Pumpkinhead remained with Ozma to the end of his days; and he did
not spoil as soon as he had feared, although he always remained as
stupid as ever. The Woggle-Bug tried to teach him several arts and
sciences; but Jack was so poor a student that any attempt to educate
him was soon abandoned.
After Glinda’s army had marched back home, and peace was restored to
the Emerald City, the Tin Woodman announced his intention to return to
his own Kingdom of the Winkies.
“It isn’t a very big Kingdom,” said he to Ozma, “but for that very
reason it is easier to rule; and I have called myself an Emperor
because I am an Absolute Monarch, and no one interferes in any way with
my conduct of public or personal affairs. When I get home I shall have
a new coat of nickel plate; for I have become somewhat marred and
scratched lately; and then I shall be glad to have you pay me a visit.”
“Thank you,” replied Ozma. “Some day I may accept the invitation. But
what is to become of the Scarecrow?”
“I shall return with my friend the Tin Woodman,” said the stuffed one,
seriously. “We have decided never to be parted in the future.”
“And I have made the Scarecrow my Royal Treasurer,” explained the Tin
Woodman. “For it has occurred to me that it is a good thing to have a
Royal Treasurer who is made of money. What do you think?”
“I think,” said the little Queen, smiling, “that your friend must be
the richest man in all the world.”
“I am,” returned the Scarecrow. “but not on account of my money. For I
consider brains far superior to money, in every way. You may have
noticed that if one has money without brains, he cannot use it to
advantage; but if one has brains without money, they will enable him to
live comfortably to the end of his days.”
“At the same time,” declared the Tin Woodman, “you must acknowledge
that a good heart is a thing that brains can not create, and that money
can not buy. Perhaps, after all, it is I who am the richest man in all
the world.”
“You are both rich, my friends,” said Ozma, gently; “and your riches
are the only riches worth having—the riches of content!”
The End