The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
“My dress is blue and white checked,” said Dorothy, smoothing out the
wrinkles in it.
“It is kind of you to wear that,” said Boq. “Blue is the color of the
Munchkins, and white is the witch color. So we know you are a friendly
witch.”
Dorothy did not know what to say to this, for all the people seemed to
think her a witch, and she knew very well she was only an ordinary
little girl who had come by the chance of a cyclone into a strange
land.
When she had tired watching the dancing, Boq led her into the house,
where he gave her a room with a pretty bed in it. The sheets were made
of blue cloth, and Dorothy slept soundly in them till morning, with
Toto curled up on the blue rug beside her.
She ate a hearty breakfast, and watched a wee Munchkin baby, who played
with Toto and pulled his tail and crowed and laughed in a way that
greatly amused Dorothy. Toto was a fine curiosity to all the people,
for they had never seen a dog before.
“How far is it to the Emerald City?” the girl asked.
“I do not know,” answered Boq gravely, “for I have never been there. It
is better for people to keep away from Oz, unless they have business
with him. But it is a long way to the Emerald City, and it will take
you many days. The country here is rich and pleasant, but you must pass
through rough and dangerous places before you reach the end of your
journey.”
This worried Dorothy a little, but she knew that only the Great Oz
could help her get to Kansas again, so she bravely resolved not to turn
back.
She bade her friends good-bye, and again started along the road of
yellow brick. When she had gone several miles she thought she would
stop to rest, and so climbed to the top of the fence beside the road
and sat down. There was a great cornfield beyond the fence, and not far
away she saw a Scarecrow, placed high on a pole to keep the birds from
the ripe corn.
Dorothy leaned her chin upon her hand and gazed thoughtfully at the
Scarecrow. Its head was a small sack stuffed with straw, with eyes,
nose, and mouth painted on it to represent a face. An old, pointed blue
hat, that had belonged to some Munchkin, was perched on his head, and
the rest of the figure was a blue suit of clothes, worn and faded,
which had also been stuffed with straw. On the feet were some old boots
with blue tops, such as every man wore in this country, and the figure
was raised above the stalks of corn by means of the pole stuck up its
back.
While Dorothy was looking earnestly into the queer, painted face of the
Scarecrow, she was surprised to see one of the eyes slowly wink at her.
She thought she must have been mistaken at first, for none of the
scarecrows in Kansas ever wink; but presently the figure nodded its
head to her in a friendly way. Then she climbed down from the fence and
walked up to it, while Toto ran around the pole and barked.
“Good day,” said the Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.
“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 greatly obliged to you.”
Dorothy reached up both arms and lifted the figure off the pole, for,
being stuffed with straw, it was quite light.
“Thank you very much,” said the Scarecrow, when he had been set down on
the ground. “I feel like a new man.”
Dorothy was puzzled at this, for it sounded queer to hear a stuffed man
speak, and to see him bow and walk along beside her.
“Who are you?” asked the Scarecrow when he had stretched himself and
yawned. “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?”
“I cannot tell,” she returned, “but you may come with me, if you like.
If Oz will not give you any brains you will be no worse off than you
are now.”
“That is true,” said the Scarecrow. “You see,” he continued
confidentially, “I don’t mind my legs and arms and body being stuffed,
because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes or sticks a pin
into me, it doesn’t matter, for I can’t feel it. 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 how you feel,” 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. Dorothy helped him over the fence, and
they 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 as if he suspected there might be a nest of rats
in the straw, and he 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; “the Munchkin farmer who made you?”
“No,” answered the Scarecrow; “it’s a lighted match.”
Chapter IV
The Road Through the Forest
After a few hours the road began to be rough, and the walking grew so
difficult that the Scarecrow often stumbled over the yellow bricks,
which were here very uneven. Sometimes, indeed, they were broken or
missing altogether, leaving holes that Toto jumped across 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 never hurt him, however, and Dorothy would pick
him up and set him upon his feet again, while he joined her in laughing
merrily at his own mishap.
The farms were not nearly so well cared for here as they were farther
back. There were fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther
they went the more dismal and lonesome the country became.
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, “and it is a lucky thing I am not, for my
mouth is only painted, and if I should cut a hole in it so I could eat,
the straw I am stuffed with would come out, and that would spoil the
shape of my head.”
Dorothy saw at once that this was true, so she only 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 this queer Land of Oz.
The Scarecrow listened carefully, and said, “I cannot understand why
you should wish to leave this beautiful country and go back to the dry,
gray place you call Kansas.”
“That is because you have no brains” answered the girl. “No matter how
dreary and gray our homes are, we people of flesh and blood would
rather live there than in any other country, be it ever so beautiful.
There is no place like home.”
The Scarecrow sighed.
“Of course I cannot understand it,” he said. “If your heads were
stuffed with straw, like mine, you would probably all live in the
beautiful places, and then Kansas would have no people at all. It is
fortunate for Kansas that you have brains.”
“Won’t you tell me a story, while we are resting?” asked the child.
The Scarecrow looked at her reproachfully, and answered:
“My life has been so short that I really know nothing whatever. I was
only made day before yesterday. What happened in the world before that
time is all unknown to me. Luckily, when the farmer made my head, one
of the first things he did was to paint my ears, so that I heard what
was going on. There was another Munchkin with him, and the first thing
I heard was the farmer saying, ‘How do you like those ears?’
“‘They aren’t straight,’” answered the other.
“‘Never mind,’” said the farmer. “‘They are ears just the same,’” which
was true enough.
“‘Now I’ll make the eyes,’” said the farmer. So he painted my right
eye, and as soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and
at everything around me with a great deal of curiosity, for this was my
first glimpse of the world.
“‘That’s a rather pretty eye,’” remarked the Munchkin who was watching
the farmer. “‘Blue paint is just the color for eyes.’
“‘I think I’ll make the other a little bigger,’” said the farmer. And
when the second eye was done I could see much better than before. Then
he made my nose and my mouth. But I did not speak, because at that time
I didn’t know what a mouth was for. I had the fun of watching them make
my body and my arms and legs; and when they fastened on my head, at
last, I felt very proud, for I thought I was just as good a man as
anyone.
“‘This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,’ said the farmer. ‘He
looks just like a man.’
“‘Why, he is a man,’ said the other, and I quite agreed with him. The
farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a
tall stick, where you found me. He and his friend soon after walked
away and left me alone.
“I did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them.
But my feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay on
that pole. It was a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing to think of,
having been made such a little while before. Many crows and other birds
flew into the cornfield, but as soon as they saw me they flew away
again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this pleased me and made me feel
that I was quite an important person. By and by an old crow flew near
me, and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder and
said:
“‘I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any
crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.’ Then he
hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn he wanted. The other birds,
seeing he was not harmed by me, came to eat the corn too, so in a short
time there was a great flock of them about me.
“I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow
after all; but the old crow comforted me, saying, ‘If you only had
brains in your head you would be as good a man as any of them, and a
better man than some of them. Brains are the only things worth having
in this world, no matter whether one is a crow or a man.’
“After the crows had gone I thought this over, and decided I would try
hard to get some brains. By good luck you came along and pulled me off
the stake, and from what you say I am sure the Great Oz will give me
brains as soon as we get to the Emerald City.”
“I hope so,” said Dorothy earnestly, “since you seem anxious to have
them.”
“Oh, yes; I am anxious,” returned the Scarecrow. “It is such an
uncomfortable feeling to know one is a fool.”
“Well,” said the girl, “let us go.” And she handed the basket to the
Scarecrow.