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
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