The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, by L. Frank Baum.
Chapter 5: The Rescue of the Tin Woodman
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.
There was the Scarecrow, still standing patiently
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, so the dry bread will
not stick in my throat."
"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 of bother to be able to think properly."
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, for there was
scarcely enough for herself and Toto for the
day.
When she had finished her meal, and was about
to go back to the road of yellow brick, she
was startled to hear a deep groan near by.
"What was that?" she asked timidly.
"I cannot imagine," replied the Scarecrow;
"but we can go and see."
Just then another groan reached their ears,
and the sound seemed to come from behind them.
They turned and walked through the forest
a few steps, when Dorothy discovered something
shining in a ray of sunshine that fell between
the trees.
She ran to the place and then stopped short,
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.
His head and arms and legs were jointed upon
his body, but he stood perfectly motionless,
as if he could not stir at all.
Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so
did the Scarecrow, while Toto barked sharply
and made a snap at the tin legs, which hurt
his teeth.
"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 inquired softly,
for she was moved by the sad voice in which
the man spoke.
"Get an oil-can and oil my joints," he answered.
"They are rusted so badly that I cannot move
them at all; if I am well oiled I shall soon
be all right again.
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 she returned and
asked anxiously, "Where are your joints?"
"Oil my neck, first," replied the Tin Woodman.
So she oiled it, and as it was quite badly
rusted the Scarecrow took hold of the tin
head and moved it gently from side to side
until it worked freely, and then the man could
turn it himself.
"Now oil the joints in my arms," he said.
And Dorothy oiled them and the Scarecrow bent
them carefully until they were quite free
from rust and as good as new.
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 for his release, for he seemed a very
polite creature, and very grateful.
"I might have stood there always if you had
not come along," he said; "so you have certainly
saved my life.
How did you happen to be 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.
"So, 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 heartily,
and Dorothy added that she would be pleased
to have his company.
So the Tin Woodman shouldered his axe and
they all passed through the forest until they
came to the road that was paved with yellow
brick.
The Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the
oil-can in her basket.
"For," he said, "if I should get caught in
the rain, and rust again, I would need the
oil-can badly."
It was a bit of good luck to have their new
comrade join the party, for soon after they
had begun their journey again 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 so well that soon he cleared a
passage for the entire party.
Dorothy was thinking so earnestly as they
walked along that she did not notice when
the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled
over to the side of the road.
Indeed he was obliged to call to her to help
him up again.
"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 should much
rather have a heart."
"And why is that?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I will tell you my story, and then you will
know."
So, while they were walking through the forest,
the Tin Woodman told the following story:
"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 made up my mind that instead of living
alone I would marry, so that I might not become
lonely.
"There was one of the Munchkin girls who was
so beautiful that I soon grew to love her
with all my heart.
She, on her part, 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, for she was
so lazy she wished 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.
Thereupon the Wicked Witch enchanted my axe,
and when I was chopping away at my best one
day, for I was anxious to get the new house
and my wife as soon as possible, the axe slipped
all at once and cut off my left leg.
"This at first seemed a great misfortune,
for I knew a one-legged man could not do very
well as a wood-chopper.
So 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 my action angered the Wicked Witch of
the East, for she had promised the old woman
I should not marry the pretty Munchkin girl.
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, nothing daunted,
I had them replaced 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 I little
knew how cruel my enemy could be.
She thought of a new way to kill my love for
the beautiful Munchkin maiden, and 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, fastening my tin arms
and legs and head to it, by means of joints,
so that I could move around as well as ever.
But, alas!
I had now no heart, so that I lost all my
love for the Munchkin girl, and did not care
whether I married her or not.
I suppose she is still living with the old
woman, waiting for me to come after her.
"My body shone so brightly in the sun that
I felt very proud of it and it did not matter
now if my axe slipped, for it could not cut
me.
There was only one danger--that my joints
would rust; but I kept an oil-can in my cottage
and took care to oil myself whenever I needed
it.
However, there came a day when I forgot to
do this, and, being caught in a rainstorm,
before I thought of the danger my joints had
rusted, and I was left to stand in the woods
until you came to help me.
It was a terrible thing to undergo, 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 am resolved 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 had been greatly
interested in the story of the Tin Woodman,
and now they knew why he was so anxious to
get a new heart.
"All the same," said the Scarecrow, "I shall
ask for brains instead of a heart; for a fool
would not know what to do with a heart if
he had one."
"I shall take the heart," returned the Tin
Woodman; "for brains do not make one happy,
and happiness is the best thing in the world."
Dorothy did not say anything, for she was
puzzled to know which of her two friends was
right, and she decided if she could only get
back to Kansas and Aunt Em, it did not matter
so much whether the Woodman had no brains
and the Scarecrow no heart, or each got what
he wanted.
What worried her most was that the bread was
nearly gone, and another meal for herself
and Toto would empty the basket.
To be sure, neither the Woodman nor the Scarecrow
ever ate anything, but she was not made of
tin nor straw, and could not live unless she
was fed.
