“So I should imagine,” replied the Emperor, with true politeness.
They were shown to their rooms and permitted to make such toilets as they could, and soon they assembled again in the grand tin dining-hall, even Toto being present. For the Emperor was fond of Dorothy’s little dog, and the girl explained to her friends that in Oz all animals were treated with as much consideration as the people—“if they behave themselves,” she added.
Toto behaved himself, and sat in a tin highchair beside Dorothy and ate his dinner from a tin platter.
Indeed, they all ate from tin dishes, but these were of pretty shapes and brightly polished; Dorothy thought they were just as good as silver.
Button-Bright looked curiously at the man who had “no appetite inside him,” for the Tin Woodman, although he had prepared so fine a feast for his guests, ate not a mouthful himself, sitting patiently in his place to see that all built so they could eat were well and plentifully served.
What pleased Button-Bright most about the dinner was the tin orchestra that played sweet music while the company ate. The players were not tin, being just ordinary Winkies; but the instruments they played upon were all tin—tin trumpets, tin fiddles, tin drums and cymbals and flutes and horns and all. They played so nicely the “Shining Emperor Waltz,” composed expressly in honor of the Tin Woodman by Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T.E., that Polly could not resist dancing to it. After she had tasted a few dewdrops, freshly gathered for her, she danced gracefully to the music while the others finished their repast; and when she whirled until her fleecy draperies of rainbow hues enveloped her like a cloud, the Tin Woodman was so delighted that he clapped his tin hands until the noise of them drowned the sound of the cymbals.
Altogether it was a merry meal, although Polychrome ate little and the host nothing at all.
“I’m sorry the Rainbow’s Daughter missed her mist-cakes,” said the Tin Woodman to Dorothy; “but by a mistake Miss Polly’s mist-cakes were mislaid and not missed until now. I’ll try to have some for her breakfast.”
They spent the evening telling stories, and the next morning left the splendid tin castle and set out upon the road to the Emerald City. The Tin Woodman went with them, of course, having by this time been so brightly polished that he sparkled like silver. His axe, which he always carried with him, had a steel blade that was tin plated and a handle covered with tin plate beautifully engraved and set with diamonds.
The Winkies assembled before the castle gates and cheered their Emperor as he marched away, and it was easy to see that they all loved him dearly.
XVI
Visiting the Pumpkin-Field
Dorothy let Button-Bright wind up the clockwork in the copper man this morning—his thinking machine first, then his speech, and finally his action; so he would doubtless run perfectly until they had reached the Emerald City. The copper man and the tin man were good friends, and not so much alike as you might think. For one was alive and the other moved by means of machinery; one was tall and angular and the other short and round. You could love the Tin Woodman because he had a fine nature, kindly and simple; but the machine man you could only admire without loving, since to love such a thing as he was as impossible as to love a sewing-machine or an automobile. Yet Tik-tok was popular with the people of Oz because he was so trustworthy, reliable and true; he was sure to do exactly what he was wound up to do, at all times and in all circumstances. Perhaps it is better to be a machine that does its duty than a flesh-and-blood person who will not, for a dead truth is better than a live falsehood.
About noon the travelers reached a large field of pumpkins—a vegetable quite appropriate to the yellow country of the Winkies—and some of the pumpkins which grew there were of remarkable size. Just before they entered upon this field they saw three little mounds that looked like graves, with a pretty headstone to each one of them.
“What is this?” asked Dorothy, in wonder.
“It’s Jack Pumpkinhead’s private graveyard,” replied the Tin Woodman.
“But I thought nobody ever died in Oz,” she said.
“Nor do they; although if one is bad, he may be condemned and killed by the good citizens,” he answered.
Dorothy ran over to the little graves and read the words engraved upon the tombstones. The first one said:
Here Lies the Mortal Part of
Jack Pumpkinhead
Which Spoiled April 9th.
She then went to the next stone, which read:
Here Lies the Mortal Part of
Jack Pumpkinhead
Which Spoiled October 2nd.
On the third stone were carved these words:
Here Lies the Mortal Part of
Jack Pumpkinhead
Which Spoiled January 24th.
“Poor Jack!” sighed Dorothy. “I’m sorry he had to die in three parts, for I hoped to see him again.”
“So you shall,” declared the Tin Woodman, “since he is still alive. Come with me to his house, for Jack is now a farmer and lives in this very pumpkin field.”
They walked over to a monstrous big, hollow pumpkin which had a door and windows cut through the rind. There was a stovepipe running through the stem, and six steps had been built leading up to the front door.
They walked up to this door and looked in. Seated on a bench was a man clothed in a spotted shirt, a red vest, and faded blue trousers, whose body was merely sticks of wood, jointed clumsily together. On his neck was set a round, yellow pumpkin, with a face carved on it such as a boy often carves on a jack-lantern.
This queer man was engaged in snapping slippery pumpkinseeds with his wooden fingers, trying to hit a target on the other side of the room with them. He did not know he had visitors
