L. Frank Baum_Oz 12

A Faithful Story of the Astonishing Adventure
Undertaken by the Tin Woodman, assisted
by Woot the Wanderer, the Scarecrow
of Oz, and Polychrome, the
Rainbow's Daughter

by
L. FRANK BAUM
"Royal historian of Oz"

This Book
is dedicated
to the son of
my son
Frank Alden Baum

I know that some of you have been waiting for this story of the Tin
Woodman, because many of my correspondents have asked me, time and
again what ever became of the "pretty Munchkin girl" whom Nick Chopper
was engaged to marry before the Wicked Witch enchanted his axe and he
traded his flesh for tin. I, too, have wondered what became of her, but
until Woot the Wanderer interested himself in the matter the Tin
Woodman knew no more than we did. However, he found her, after many
thrilling adventures, as you will discover when you have read this
story.

I am delighted at the continued interest of both young and old in the
Oz stories. A learned college professor recently wrote me to ask: "For
readers of what age are your books intended?" It puzzled me to answer
that properly, until I had looked over some of the letters I have
received. One says: "I'm a little boy 5 years old, and I Just love your
Oz stories. My sister, who is writing this for me, reads me the Oz
books, but I wish I could read them myself." Another letter says: "I'm
a great girl 13 years old, so you'll be surprised when I tell you I am
not too old yet for the Oz stories." Here's another letter: "Since I
was a young girl I've never missed getting a Baum book for Christmas.
I'm married, now, but am as eager to get and read the Oz stories as
ever." And still another writes: "My good wife and I, both more than 70
years of age, believe that we find more real enjoyment in your Oz books
than in any other books we read." Considering these statements, I wrote
the college professor that my books are intended for all those whose
hearts are young, no matter what their ages may be.

I think I am justified in promising that there will be some astonishing
revelations about The Magic of Oz in my book for 1919. Always your
loving and grateful friend,

L. FRANK BAUM.
Royal Historian of Oz.

"OZCOT"
at HOLLYWOOD
in CALIFORNIA
1918.

The Tin Woodman sat on his glittering tin throne in the handsome tin
hall of his splendid tin castle in the Winkie Country of the Land of
Oz. Beside him, in a chair of woven straw, sat his best friend, the
Scarecrow of Oz. At times they spoke to one another of curious things
they had seen and strange adventures they had known since first they
two had met and become comrades. But at times they were silent, for
these things had been talked over many times between them, and they
found themselves contented in merely being together, speaking now and
then a brief sentence to prove they were wide awake and attentive. But
then, these two quaint persons never slept. Why should they sleep, when
they never tired?

And now, as the brilliant sun sank low over the Winkie Country of Oz,
tinting the glistening tin towers and tin minarets of the tin castle
with glorious sunset hues, there approached along a winding pathway
Woot the Wanderer, who met at the castle entrance a Winkie servant.

The servants of the Tin Woodman all wore tin helmets and tin
breastplates and uniforms covered with tiny tin discs sewed closely
together on silver cloth, so that their bodies sparkled as beautifully
as did the tin castle—and almost as beautifully as did the Tin Woodman
himself.

Woot the Wanderer looked at the man servant—all bright and
glittering—and at the magnificent castle—all bright and
glittering—and as he looked his eyes grew big with wonder. For Woot
was not very big and not very old and, wanderer though he was, this
proved the most gorgeous sight that had ever met his boyish gaze.

"Who lives here?" he asked.

"The Emperor of the Winkies, who is the famous Tin Woodman of Oz,"
replied the servant, who had been trained to treat all strangers with
courtesy.

"A Tin Woodman? How queer!" exclaimed the little wanderer.

"Well, perhaps our Emperor is queer," admitted the servant; "but he is
a kind master and as honest and true as good tin can make him; so we,
who gladly serve him, are apt to forget that he is not like other
people."

"May I see him?" asked Woot the Wanderer, after a moment's thought.

"If it please you to wait a moment, I will go and ask him," said the
servant, and then he went into the hall where the Tin Woodman sat with
his friend the Scarecrow. Both were glad to learn that a stranger had
arrived at the castle, for this would give them something new to talk
about, so the servant was asked to admit the boy at once.

By the time Woot the Wanderer had passed through the grand
corridors—all lined with ornamental tin—and under stately tin
archways and through the many tin rooms all set with beautiful tin
furniture, his eyes had grown bigger than ever and his whole little
body thrilled with amazement. But, astonished though he was, he was
able to make a polite bow before the throne and to say in a respectful
voice: "I salute your Illustrious Majesty and offer you my humble
services."

"Very good!" answered the Tin Woodman in his accustomed cheerful
manner. "Tell me who you are, and whence you come."

"I am known as Woot the Wanderer," answered the boy, "and I have come,
through many travels and by roundabout ways, from my former home in a
far corner of the Gillikin Country of Oz."

"To wander from one's home," remarked the Scarecrow, "is to encounter
dangers and hardships, especially if one is made of meat and bone. Had
you no friends in that corner of the Gillikin Country? Was it not
homelike and comfortable?"

To hear a man stuffed with straw speak, and speak so well, quite
startled Woot, and perhaps he stared a bit rudely at the Scarecrow. But
after a moment he replied:

"I had home and friends, your Honorable Strawness, but they were so
quiet and happy and comfortable that I found them dismally stupid.
Nothing in that corner of Oz interested me, but I believed that in
other parts of the country I would find strange people and see new
sights, and so I set out upon my wandering journey. I have been a
wanderer for nearly a full year, and now my wanderings have brought me
to this splendid castle."

"I suppose," said the Tin Woodman, "that in this year you have seen so
much that you have become very wise."

"No," replied Woot, thoughtfully, "I am not at all wise, I beg to
assure your Majesty. The more I wander the less I find that I know, for
in the Land of Oz much wisdom and many things may be learned."

"To learn is simple. Don't you ask questions?" inquired the Scarecrow.

"Yes; I ask as many questions as I dare; but some people refuse to
answer questions."

"That is not kind of them," declared the Tin Woodman. "If one does not
ask for information he seldom receives it; so I, for my part, make it a
rule to answer any civil question that is asked me."

"So do I," added the Scarecrow, nodding.

"I am glad to hear this," said the Wanderer, "for it makes me bold to
ask for something to eat."

"Bless the boy!" cried the Emperor of the Winkies; "how careless of me
not to remember that wanderers are usually hungry. I will have food
brought you at once."

Saying this he blew upon a tin whistle that was suspended from his tin
neck, and at the summons a servant appeared and bowed low. The Tin
Woodman ordered food for the stranger, and in a few minutes the servant
brought in a tin tray heaped with a choice array of good things to eat,
all neatly displayed on tin dishes that were polished till they shone
like mirrors. The tray was set upon a tin table drawn before the
throne, and the servant placed a tin chair before the table for the boy
to seat himself.

"Eat, friend Wanderer," said the Emperor cordially, "and I trust the
feast will be to your liking. I, myself, do not eat, being made in such
manner that I require no food to keep me alive. Neither does my friend
the Scarecrow. But all my Winkie people eat, being formed of flesh, as
you are, and so my tin cupboard is never bare, and strangers are always
welcome to whatever it contains."

The boy ate in silence for a time, being really hungry, but after his
appetite was somewhat satisfied, he said:

"How happened your Majesty to be made of tin, and still be alive?"

"That," replied the tin man, "is a long story."

"The longer the better," said the boy. "Won't you please tell me the
story?"

"If you desire it," promised the Tin Woodman, leaning back in his tin
throne and crossing his tin legs. "I haven't related my history in a
long while, because everyone here knows it nearly as well as I do. But
you, being a stranger, are no doubt curious to learn how I became so
beautiful and prosperous, so I will recite for your benefit my strange
adventures."

"Thank you," said Woot the Wanderer, still eating.

"I was not always made of tin," began the Emperor, "for in the
beginning I was a man of flesh and bone and blood and lived in the
Munchkin Country of Oz. There I was, by trade, a woodchopper, and
contributed my share to the comfort of the Oz people by chopping up the
trees of the forest to make firewood, with which the women would cook
their meals while the children warmed themselves about the fires. For
my home I had a little hut by the edge of the forest, and my life was
one of much content until I fell in love with a beautiful Munchkin girl
who lived not far away."

"What was the Munchkin girl's name?" asked Woot.

"Nimmie Amee. This girl, so fair that the sunsets blushed when their
rays fell upon her, lived with a powerful witch who wore silver shoes
and who had made the poor child her slave. Nimmie Amee was obliged to
work from morning till night for the old Witch of the East, scrubbing
and sweeping her hut and cooking her meals and washing her dishes. She
had to cut firewood, too, until I found her one day in the forest and
fell in love with her. After that, I always brought plenty of firewood
to Nimmie Amee and we became very friendly. Finally I asked her to
marry me, and she agreed to do so, but the Witch happened to overhear
our conversation and it made her very angry, for she did not wish her
slave to be taken away from her. The Witch commanded me never to come
near Nimmie Amee again, but I told her I was my own master and would do
as I pleased, not realizing that this was a careless way to speak to a
Witch.