Number 94. The wonderful Wizard of Oz. If you stood on the great Kansas prairie and spun in a circle, you would see nothing but gray. The sky was not the bright, joyful blue you might see on a summer morning, but a soft, heavy gray that seemed to press down upon the earth.
The grass was not green. The fierce sun had burned the tips of the blades until they were the very same color as the soil. The house where little Dorothy lived with her Aunt Em and her Uncle Henry was gray too. Its paint had blistered and peeled under the relentless Kansas wind until the wood underneath looked like the dusty road.
Uncle Henry was a farmer, and he never laughed. He worked from the first light of dawn until the stars came out, and his face was set in a hard, quiet line. Aunt Em, when she had first come to this prairie, had been young and bright, but the wind had taken the color from her cheeks and the spark from her eyes.
She too had forgotten how to smile. But Dorothy had not forgotten. She had a secret weapon against the gray, and his name was Toto. Toto was a little black dog with long silky hair and small black eyes that twinkled merrily on either side of his funny wee nose.
Toto did not work, and Toto did not worry. He played all day long, and Dorothy played with him, and she loved him with all her heart. It was Toto who kept Dorothy from turning as gray as her surroundings.
This story, which has traveled all over the world and been told in theaters, on screens, and in countless bedtime hours, belongs to the folklore of the United States. It was written down at the very turn of the 20th century by a man named L. Frank Baum, who wanted to make a new kind of fairy tale.
One filled with wonder, where the monsters were not too dreadful, and the magic felt as fresh as a spring morning. And though many people today remember a famous movie with shoes of bright red, the story we are telling today is the older one, the original one, where the shoes that walk the yellow brick road are made of pure gleaming silver.
On the afternoon our story begins, the air was strangely still. Uncle Henry sat on the doorstep and looked anxiously at the sky, which was even grayer than usual. From the far north, there came a low, deep wailing sound. From the south, another whistling wind answered.
"There's a cyclone coming, Em!" Uncle Henry called out, his voice sharp with sudden fear. "I'll go look after the stock." Aunt Em ran to the door and looked at the sky. "Quick, Dorothy!" she screamed. "Run for the cellar!" In the middle of the floor of their tiny cabin was a trap door, leading down into a small, dark hole in the earth where they could hide from the terrible winds.
Dorothy snatched Toto up in her arms and started for the trap door, but Toto was frightened by the howling of the wind, which had suddenly grown deafening. He wiggled out of her arms and ran under the bed. Dorothy scrambled after him. "Dorothy, let him go! Get down!" Aunt Em cried, already climbing down the ladder into the dark safety of the cellar.
But Dorothy would not leave her dog. She crawled under the bed, caught Toto by his collar, and started back toward the trap door. She never made it. With a sound like the roar of a thousand steam engines, the cyclone hit the house. It did not tear the roof off or smash the walls to splinters, as cyclones often do.
Instead, the wind met exactly at the center of the house, lifted it gently off its foundations and carried it up, up, up into the air, as easily as you might carry a feather on a breezy afternoon. It was very dark, and the wind screamed horribly all around them, but the house itself rose quite smoothly.
After the first few terrifying moments, when Dorothy felt as though she were falling through space, she realized she was floating. The house tipped slightly, but then it settled into a gentle swaying motion, like a cradle being rocked by a giant invisible hand. Toto did not like it. He ran about the room, barking loudly at the gray clouds rushing past the windows.
But Dorothy sat on the floor, holding her little dog close, and waited to see what would happen next. Hour after hour went by, and the house traveled onward through the sky. At last, the constant rocking motion grew so soothing that Dorothy closed her eyes. With the wind howling a strange lullaby outside, she fell fast asleep.
When she woke up, the house was no longer moving.
The terrible roaring of the wind had stopped. Bright, warm sunlight was streaming through the window, flooding the little room with gold. Dorothy scrambled to her feet, with Toto barking at her heels, and pushed open the front door. She let out a little gasp of wonder. The gray prairie was gone.
In its place was a country of marvelous beauty. There were lovely lawns of rich green grass, dotted with beds of brilliant flowers in every color of the rainbow. Trees heavy with strange, delicious-looking fruit stood in groves, and clear, bubbling brooks wound their way through the meadows. Birds with feathers of blue and gold sang in the branches.
As Dorothy stood on the doorstep, looking at this paradise, she saw a group of the strangest people she had ever beheld coming toward her. They were about the same height as Dorothy herself, who was not a very tall girl, but they looked much older. Three of them were men, with round, friendly faces and long white beards.
They wore round hats that rose to a sharp point a foot above their heads, with little bells around the brims that tinkled sweetly as they walked. They were dressed in beautiful blue cloth that shone like silk. With them was a tiny woman, her hair as white as snow, wearing a beautiful gown of white lace that sparkled like diamonds in the sun.
The little woman walked up to Dorothy, made a low, polite bow, and said in a sweet, trembling voice, "You are most welcome, most noble sorceress, to the land of the Munchkins. We are so deeply grateful to you for having killed the wicked witch of the East, and for setting our people free from her terrible bondage." Dorothy stared at her in utter astonishment.
"You are very kind," she said, her voice shaking slightly, "but there must be some mistake. I have not killed anyone." "Your house did," the little woman replied with a smile, "and that is the same thing. Look." She pointed to the corner of the house. Dorothy looked, and her heart gave a little leap of fright.
There, sticking out from beneath the heavy wooden beams of her home, were two feet, shod in beautiful silver shoes with pointed toes. "Oh dear!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands together. "The house must have fallen on her. What shall we do? I didn't mean to." "There is nothing to be done," said the white-haired woman gently.
"She was a very wicked witch indeed, and she kept the Munchkins in slavery for many years, making them work for her day and night. Now they are all free, and they thank you for the favor." "Who are you?" asked Dorothy, looking at the woman's sparkling white dress. "I am the witch of the North," the woman answered.
"But I am a good witch, and the people love me. I am not as powerful as the wicked witch of the East was, or I should have set the people free myself." "Are there witches in Kansas?" Dorothy asked, thinking of her gray home. "Oh no," replied the good witch. "I believe Kansas is a civilized country, where there are no witches or wizards left.
But here, in the land of Oz, we are cut off from the rest of the world by a great desert, and so we still have magic among us. There were four witches in our land, two good ones in the North and the South, and two wicked ones in the East and the West. Now that your house has fallen on the witch of the East, there is only one wicked witch left, and she lives in the West." Suddenly, the good witch pointed to the feet under the house.
The body of the dead witch had shriveled away into dust in the warm sun, leaving nothing behind but the beautiful silver shoes. "The silver shoes are yours now," said the witch of the North, reaching down and picking them up. She shook the dust from them and handed them to Dorothy. "They have some wonderful power, though we do not know what it is.
You must wear them." Dorothy took the shoes. They were light and caught the light like polished mirrors. She took off her old, worn leather shoes and slipped the silver ones onto her feet. They fitted her as perfectly as if they had been made for her. "Now," said Dorothy, looking around the beautiful country, "I must find my way back to Kansas, to my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry.
They will be worrying about me. Can you help me find my way?" The Munchkins and the good witch looked at each other, and then they shook their heads. "To the East and the West," said one of the Munchkins. "There are great deserts that no one can cross. And to the South, there is a country of wild beasts and dark forests.
I cannot help you," said the good witch of the North, "but you must go to the Emerald City in the very center of our country. Perhaps the great Wizard of Oz can help you. He is more powerful than all of us combined." "How do I get there?" Dorothy asked. "You must walk," the witch replied.
"It is a long journey, through countries that are sometimes pleasant and sometimes dark and terrible. But I will give you my blessing, and no one will dare to hurt you." She stepped close to Dorothy and kissed her gently on the forehead. Where her lips touched the girl's skin, they left a round, shining mark, like a glowing star.
"The road to the Emerald City is paved with yellow brick," said the good witch. "You cannot miss it. When you find the wizard, do not be afraid, but tell him your story and ask for his help. Goodbye, my child." With a warm smile and a graceful wave of her hand, the good witch of the North turned on her left heel three times and disappeared into air, leaving Dorothy and Toto alone in the sunshine.
Disclaimer.
Dorothy did not feel like a sorceress. She felt like a little girl who was very far from home, with nothing but a small basket of bread, a little black dog, and a pair of silver shoes that shimmered with every step she took. But she was a brave girl, and she knew that sitting on the doorstep would not bring her back to Kansas.
She packed her small basket with bread from her kitchen, closed the door of her floating house, and set off. It did not take her long to find the road of yellow brick. It was broad and smooth, cutting a bright golden path through the green meadows. As she walked, the silver shoes made a cheerful, rhythmic clink, clink sound against the yellow stones.
The sun was warm, the air was sweet, and Toto trotted happily at her heels, his tail wagging like a little flag. After she had walked several miles, Dorothy decided to sit down by the roadside to rest. Opposite her, in a great cornfield, was a pole, and on top of the pole was a scarecrow, placed there to keep the birds from eating the ripe corn.
Dorothy leaned her chin on her hand and gazed at the scarecrow. He was a funny figure. His head was a small sack stuffed with straw, with eyes, a nose, and a mouth painted on it to represent a face. He wore an old, faded blue hat, a blue suit of clothes stuffed with straw, and a pair of old boots that had seen better days.
As Dorothy watched him, she was surprised to see one of the painted eyes slowly wink at her. She shook her head, thinking she must have imagined it. But then, the scarecrow nodded his head to her in a friendly, if rather stiff, way.
Dorothy got up and walked over to the fence. Toto ran to the foot of the pole and began to bark. "Good day," said the scarecrow, in a husky, rustling voice. "Did you speak?" asked Dorothy, her eyes wide with wonder. "Certainly," said the scarecrow. "How do you do?" "I am pretty well, thank you," replied Dorothy politely.
"How do you do?" "I'm not feeling very well," said the scarecrow, with a sigh that sounded like dry leaves blowing across a porch. "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 would be so kind as to take me off the pole, I should be extremely grateful." Dorothy reached up with both arms and lifted the scarecrow off the pole. He was very light, being stuffed with nothing but straw, and she set him gently on his feet on the green grass. "Thank you very much," said the scarecrow, stretching his arms and legs.
"I feel like a new man." Toto did not like the look of this straw creature and began to growl, sniffing at the scarecrow's boots. "Don't mind Toto," Dorothy said. "He never bites." "Oh, I'm not afraid," said the scarecrow. "He can't hurt the straw. But let me ask you, who are you and where are you going?" "My name is Dorothy," said the girl.
"And I am going to the Emerald City to ask the great Wizard of Oz to send me back to Kansas." "Where is the Emerald City?" he asked. "And who is the wizard?" "Why, don't you know?" Dorothy asked in surprise. "No, indeed," said the scarecrow sadly. "I don't know anything. You see, I am stuffed, so I have no brains at all." "Oh," said Dorothy, her heart softening.
"I am so sorry for you." "Do you think," the scarecrow asked, leaning closer and speaking in a whisper, "if I go to the Emerald City with you, that the great wizard would give me some brains?" "I cannot say," Dorothy replied. "But you may come with me if you like.
Even if the wizard cannot give you a brain, you will be no worse off than you are now." "That is true," said the scarecrow. "And so, he joined her on the road of yellow brick. As they walked, Dorothy watched her new companion with great interest. The scarecrow walked with a strange, wobbly gait, his legs swinging out in odd directions, because his knees were only stuffed with straw.
But as they traveled, it was the scarecrow who noticed that the road was getting rougher, and it was the scarecrow who reached out to catch Dorothy when she tripped on a loose stone. "If I had a brain," the scarecrow murmured, after he had saved her from a nasty fall, "I would know why the stones are loose.
But since I have only straw, I can only watch out for your feet." Dorothy smiled and thanked him, wondering silently if a person without a brain could really be so thoughtful. By afternoon, the road led them into a deep forest, where the trees grew tall and thick, casting long, cool shadows across the yellow bricks.
The singing birds had gone, and the only sound was the rustle of the wind in the high branches. Suddenly, from the depths of the forest, there came a deep, metallic groan. Dorothy stopped in her tracks. "What was that?" she whispered. "I do not know," said the scarecrow, "but we can go and see." They stepped off the road and made their way through the thick trees.
A few yards into the shadows, a gleam of light caught Dorothy's eye. She ran forward, then stopped, letting out a cry of surprise. Standing beside a half-cut tree, with an axe raised high in his hands, was a man made entirely of tin. He stood perfectly still, as if he had been frozen in the middle of a swing.
His joints were dull and dark, and his tin face was frozen in a look of quiet misery. "Did you groan?" Dorothy asked, stepping closer. "Yes," said the tin man, though his jaws were so stiff he could barely move them to speak. "I did. I have been groaning here for more than a year, and no one has come to help me." "What can I do for you?" Dorothy asked, her heart aching for the poor creature.
"Get an oil can," the tin man whispered. "There is one in my cottage, just through the trees. My joints are rusted so badly that I cannot move them at all. If you will oil them, I shall be well again." Dorothy did not lose a moment. She ran to the cottage, found the oil can and hurried back.
With the scarecrow holding the tin limbs steady, Dorothy carefully poured oil onto the rusted joints of the tin man's neck. Slowly, the tin man turned his head from side to side. "Oh, that is wonderful!" he sighed. "Next, they oiled his shoulders, and the tin man let out a long breath as he slowly lowered his heavy axe and leaned it against the tree.
They oiled his elbows, his wrists, his hips, and his knees, until he could stand and move as smoothly as any man of flesh and bone. "Thank you," he said, his voice ringing like a soft bell. "You have saved my life. I might have stood there forever if you had not come along. How did you happen to be here?" "We are on our way to the Emerald City to see the great wizard," Dorothy explained.
"I want him to send me back to Kansas, and the scarecrow wants to ask him for a brain." The tin man, who called himself the Tin Woodman, stood in silence for a moment, his polished chest rising and falling. "Tell me," he said softly, "does the wizard have the power to give a man a heart?" "I should think so," Dorothy replied.
"It would be no more difficult than giving the scarecrow a brain." "Then," said the tin woodman, "if you will allow me, I should like to join your company. For I have no heart, and I cannot know what it is to love, or to feel sorrow, or to be happy. If the wizard can give me a heart, I will be the happiest man alive." And so, the three of them, and little Toto, set off once more down the road of yellow brick, their footsteps making a strange, beautiful music.
The soft patter of Dorothy's silver shoes, the rustle of the scarecrow's straw, and the steady metallic ring of the Tin Woodman's stride. The forest grew thicker and darker as they went. The yellow brick road was now covered in places by fallen leaves and dry pine needles, making the path slippery and difficult to follow.
"How long will it take us to get out of the forest?" Dorothy asked, looking around at the towering trees that seemed to block out the sun. "I do not know," said the Tin Woodman, "but we must keep walking. For as long as we are on the road, we cannot lose our way." Suddenly, from the deep shadows of the brush, there came a roar that made the very ground shake.
Before they could run, a massive beast bounded out onto the road. It was a lion, with a great golden mane, eyes like burning coals, and a tail that lashed angrily from side to side. With one sweep of his great paw, he struck the scarecrow, sending him spinning off the road into the dust, where he lay flat and helpless.
The Tin Woodman stepped forward to protect Dorothy, but the lion struck him too. The blow did not hurt the woodman's tin body, but it knocked him off his feet, and he fell heavily into the grass, unable to rise. Little Toto, who was far too brave for his own good, ran forward, barking furiously at the giant beast.
The lion opened his great jaws, showing rows of sharp white teeth, and made a move toward the little dog. Dorothy forgot all her fear. She could not bear to see her beloved Toto hurt. She rushed forward, threw herself between the giant lion and her dog, and slapped the lion as hard as she could right on his big wet nose.
"Don't you dare bite Toto!" she cried, her voice ringing with anger. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, a big beast like you, to bite a poor little dog who is so much smaller than you are!" The lion rubbed his nose with his great paw, his eyes watering. To Dorothy's utter amazement, his ears drooped, his tail went between his legs, and he began to cry.
"I didn't bite him," the lion whimpered, his voice trembling. "No, but you tried to," Dorothy said, her hands on her hips. "You are nothing but a big coward." "I know it," said the lion, hanging his head in shame. "I've always known it. But how can I help it?" "A coward?" asked Dorothy, looking at him in surprise.
"And you, a lion, the king of beasts?" "That's just the trouble," the lion said, wiping a tear from his cheek with the tip of his tail. "People expect me to be brave, because I am a lion. Whenever I roar, everyone runs away in terror, and that makes me very happy. But if any of them ever stood their ground and fought back, I should run away myself.
Every time there is danger, my heart begins to beat so fast, and I feel so frightened that I want to hide." The scarecrow, who had managed to scramble back onto his feet, walked over and patted his straw back into shape. "That is very strange," he said. "Does your heart make you run?" "I don't know," said the lion.
"I have never seen my heart." "Perhaps," said the Tin Woodman, who had been helped up by Dorothy, "you have a heart disease. For if you have no heart, you cannot be a coward." "If you have no brain," the scarecrow added, "you cannot think of things to be afraid of. But I have no brain, so I am never afraid." "I see," said the lion.
"But I have a brain, and I have a heart, and yet I am a coward. It is a terrible thing." "We are going to the Emerald City," Dorothy told him, her anger entirely gone, replaced by pity. "We are going to ask the great Wizard of Oz for help. The scarecrow wants a brain, the Tin Woodman wants a heart, and I want to go home to Kansas.
Why don't you come with us and ask the wizard for courage?" "Do you think he could give me courage?" the lion asked, his eyes shining with hope. "It is just as easy as giving a brain or a heart," said the scarecrow. "Then I will go with you," said the lion, stepping into line beside them. "For a lion without courage is a very miserable beast indeed." As they resumed their journey, Dorothy watched her companions and felt a strange warmth in her chest.
They were a peculiar group. A girl from Kansas, a little dog, a man of straw, a man of tin, and a cowardly lion. Each of them believed they were missing the very thing that would make them whole. Yet, as the shadows of the forest lengthened, and the path grew steeper, Dorothy noticed something.
When a low branch hung across the road, blocking Dorothy's way, it was the scarecrow who carefully lifted it, holding it aside with his straw hands, so she would not scratch her face. "He did not have a brain," he said, "but he seemed to think of her comfort before his own." When the Tin Woodman accidentally stepped on a tiny beetle that was crawling across the yellow brick, he stopped in his tracks.
When he saw that he had killed the poor little creature, he sat down on a log and wept tears of pure sorrow, which ran down his tin cheeks and began to rust his jaw. "Quick, Dorothy!" the scarecrow cried. "The oil can!" Dorothy quickly oiled the woodman's jaw so he could speak again. "I must be very careful where I step," the Tin Woodman whispered, wiping his eyes.
"For if I should hurt a living thing, I have no heart to guide me, and I should be a monster. I must use all my care to be kind." Dorothy looked at him, her heart swelling. He believed he had no heart, yet he cried for a beetle. And the lion, though he claimed to be a coward, walked at the rear of the group, his great ears alert, his tail twitching.
Every time a strange noise echoed through the dark trees, he would step between the sound and Dorothy, his body tense and ready to spring, even as he whispered to her that his knees were shaking with fear. They did not know it, but the road was already showing them who they really were.
Ah.
The journey to the Emerald City was not an easy one, and the road of yellow brick soon brought them to obstacles that would have turned back any ordinary travelers. The first of these was a great gulf that lay across their path. It was a deep, wide ditch with jagged rocks at the bottom, stretching as far as the eye could see to the left and to the right.
To jump across it seemed impossible, and to climb down into it would mean certain death. "What shall we do?" asked Dorothy, looking into the dark depths of the chasm. "I haven't the faintest idea," said the Tin Woodman, looking sad. "I cannot think of anything," said the lion, his tail drooping.
"My heart is in my mouth just looking at it." But the scarecrow, whose head was filled with nothing but straw, walked to the edge of the cliff and looked across. He measured the distance with his painted eyes, then turned to the lion. "Can you jump over it?" he asked. "I think I could," said the lion, looking nervous.
"But if I should fall, it would be the end of me." "Still, we must try," said the scarecrow. "If you can jump it, you can carry us across one by one on your back. First, you should take me, for if I fall, I am only straw and will not be hurt. Then, if we succeed, you can come back for Dorothy and the woodman." The lion looked at the great gap, his body trembling.
"I am terribly frightened," he admitted, "but I will try." He backed up a few paces, took a deep breath, and ran forward. With a mighty leap, he soared through the air, his golden mane flying, and landed safely on the other side of the ditch. "Wonderful!" Dorothy cried, clapping her hands.
The lion trotted back to the edge, jumped back across, and one by one, he carried them over. First the scarecrow, then Dorothy and Toto, and finally the heavy Tin Woodman. Each time, the lion's heart hammered against his ribs, and each time he felt the icy grip of fear, yet he did not hesitate.
He did what needed to be done, despite his terror. Not long after they had crossed the ditch, they entered a part of the forest that was home to the Calidas. These were monstrous beasts with bodies like great bears and heads like tigers, with claws so long and sharp they could tear a man in two as easily as paper.
As the companions walked, they heard the terrifying sound of heavy paws crashing through the brush behind them. Looking back, they saw two of the great striped monsters running toward them, their jaws snapping. "We are lost!" cried the Tin Woodman. "Run!" the scarecrow shouted, "to the river!" They ran as fast as they could until they reached the banks of a wide, rushing river that cut across the road.
But there was no bridge, and the Calidas were closing in. "Woodman!" the scarecrow called out, his painted face bright with sudden thought. "Chop down that tall tree that stands by the water's edge. If it falls across the river, it will make a bridge for us to cross." The Tin Woodman did not lose a second.
With his great tin arms, he swung his axe with incredible speed and power. Chop, chop, chop. The wood flew in great chips, and just as the monsters reached the edge of the clearing, the great tree groaned and fell with a crash across the rushing water. Its top branches resting on the opposite bank. "Quick!" said the scarecrow.
"Cross over!" Dorothy went first, holding Toto tight, followed by the scarecrow and the woodman. The lion stood at the end of the bridge, turning to face the oncoming monsters. His knees shook, and his mane stood on end with terror, but he opened his great jaws and let out a roar so loud, so fierce, and so terrible that the Calidas paused in fear, wondering what kind of beast could make such a sound.
But the monsters were hungry, and they soon recovered their courage and began to crawl across the log. "We must cut the bridge!" the scarecrow shouted to the Tin Woodman. "Chop the end of the tree!" The Tin Woodman swung his axe again, striking the base of the fallen tree where it rested on their side of the river.
He chopped with all his might. His tin heart, or the place where he wished it to be, beating with love and desperation to save his friends. With a loud crack, the tree slipped from the bank and fell into the rushing river, carrying the screaming Calidas down the torrent with it. The friends stood on the safe bank, watching the monsters disappear down the river.
The lion sank to the ground, panting, his heart thumping. Dorothy was overjoyed. She jumped up and down and shouted for joy. The scarecrow laughed and clapped his hands so loud, he almost fell off the log. The Tin Woodman was moved to tears, and he begged the scarecrow to wipe his tears away.
Then, they all thought of Torus, and Dorothy began to search for him with all her heart. She hoped only she could find her in time to eat. They were scotters, and towards with Calidas, and were scottering the path. But they were all borrowed away from the deep wood and carried them to the washing gravel.
And carried them to the screaming Calidas down the torrent with it. The friends stood on the safe bank, watching the monsters disappear down the river. The lion sank to the ground, panting, his heart thumping. "That was a close shave," he whispered. "I thought my courage had failed me entirely. But we are safe." "You were magnificent," Dorothy said, hugging his great neck.
"You stood your ground when we needed you most." As they continued on, the forest began to thin, and they found themselves in a beautiful meadow, filled with millions of bright red poppies. The flowers were so thick that the ground looked like a vast scarlet carpet, and their sweet, heavy scent filled the warm air.
Now, the scent of these poppies was a dangerous magic. Anyone who breathed it for too long would grow sleepy, and if they fell asleep among the flowers, they would never wake again. Dorothy did not know this, but soon her eyes grew heavy. "I am so tired," she sighed, her steps slowing.
"I must lie down and sleep for a little while." "No, no!" cried the scarecrow. "If you sleep, you will die!" But Dorothy could not help it. Her limbs grew weak, and she sank down among the red flowers, her eyes closing. Toto too fell asleep beside her. "What shall we do?" asked the Tin Woodman, looking down at her in despair.
"We must carry her," said the scarecrow, "but we cannot carry the lion. He is too heavy." The lion's eyes were already glassy. "I cannot walk another step," he rumbled. "Leave me here. I am too heavy for you to save. Let me sleep." And with a low groan, the great beast fell fast asleep among the poppies.
The scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, who did not breathe, and therefore were not affected by the poison of the flowers, made a chair of their hands and lifted Dorothy and Toto. They carried them out of the poppy field as fast as they could, placing them gently on the green grass near the river, where the fresh breeze would wake them.
But they could not leave the lion to die. As they stood by the river, wondering how they could move such a massive beast, they saw a great wildcat chasing a little gray field mouse. The Tin Woodman, whose heart was so tender he could not bear to see any creature suffer, rushed forward and raised his axe, frightening the wildcat away and saving the little mouse.
The mouse turned out to be the queen of all the field mice. In gratitude for her life, she called upon thousands of her subjects to help. The scarecrow, using his non-existent brain, designed a great wagon made of tree branches. The Tin Woodman chopped the wood, and the thousands of little mice, using long pieces of string, harnessed themselves to the wagon.
Together, with the scarecrow and the woodman pushing from behind, the tiny mice pulled the great, heavy lion out of the poppy field and into the fresh air of the meadow. When Dorothy finally woke up and saw her friends standing around her, safe and sound, she wept tears of joy. And when the lion finally opened his eyes and learned how the tiny mice had saved him, he shook his head in wonder.
"I am a giant," he said softly, "and they are so small. Yet they saved my life. Truly, there is no creature too small to be of help, and no heart too grand to need it." The next morning, the travelers saw a beautiful green glow on the horizon. As they walked, the glow grew brighter and brighter, until they saw a great wall of green marble rising before them, studded with glittering emeralds.
They had reached the Emerald City. At the great gate, a small man, dressed in green clothes from head to foot, stood waiting for them. He was the guardian of the gates. "What do you want in the Emerald City?" he asked. "We have come to see the great Wizard of Oz," Dorothy replied. The guardian looked at them in surprise.
"It has been many years since anyone asked to see the wizard," he said. "He is powerful and terrible, and he does not like to be disturbed. But if you must go, you must wear these." He opened a large box, filled with spectacles of green glass. "You must wear these all the time you are in the city," he explained.
"Even when you sleep, the wizard has ordered it, for the brightness of the Emerald City is so great that it would blind you if you did not protect your eyes." He fitted the glasses onto Dorothy, the scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, the lion, and even made a tiny pair for Toto, locking them with a little key so they could not be taken off.
When they stepped through the gates, Dorothy let out a cry of delight. Everything in the city was green. The houses were built of green marble, the streets were paved with green stones, and the window panes were made of beautiful green glass. The people walked about in green clothing, buying green candy and green toys from green shops.
They were led to the great palace of Oz, where they were given beautiful rooms to rest in before their audience with the wizard. The next day, Dorothy was called into the great throne room. It was a vast, round room with a high ceiling, and every inch of it was decorated with sparkling emeralds.
In the center of the room, sat a throne of green marble, and on the throne, sat a giant, glowing head. It had no body, no arms, and no legs, but its face was wrinkled, and its eyes stared at Dorothy with a cold, terrifying light. "I am Oz, the great and terrible," said a voice that seemed to come from the very walls.
"Who are you, and why do you seek me?" Dorothy trembled, but she stood her ground. "I am Dorothy, and I have come to ask you to send me back to Kansas." The giant head stared at her. "Why should I do this for you?" "Because you are strong, and I am weak," she said, "and because you are a great wizard, and I am only a little girl." "You have the silver shoes of the wicked witch of the East," the voice boomed.
"And you have the mark of the good witch's kiss upon your forehead. You are not so weak. If you wish me to help you, you must do something for me first. You must kill the wicked witch of the West." Dorothy's heart sank. "But I cannot!" she cried. "I do not want to kill anyone." "Until the wicked witch of the West is dead, I will not help you," the head replied coldly.
"Go!" The others were called in turn, and to each, the wizard appeared in a different, terrifying form. To the scarecrow, he was a beautiful winged fairy. To the Tin Woodman, he was a horrible, many-headed beast. To the lion, he was a great ball of fire. But to each of them, the wizard gave the very same answer.
They must help Dorothy destroy the wicked witch of the West, or they would never receive their heart's desires. With heavy hearts, the companions left the Emerald City and set out toward the West. The journey to the land of the Winkies, where the wicked witch of the West ruled, was filled with danger.
The witch had only one eye, but it was as powerful as a telescope, and she saw them coming from miles away. She sent wild wolves to tear them to pieces, but the Tin Woodman, protecting his friends, chopped the wolves down with his axe. She sent wild crows to peck out their eyes, but the scarecrow caught them and wrung their necks to save Dorothy.
She sent a swarm of black bees to sting them to death, but the scarecrow took his straw and covered Dorothy, Toto, and the lion, while the bees broke their stings against the Tin Woodman's metal body. Finally, the witch used her most powerful magic, the golden cap, which allowed her to call upon the winged monkeys three times.
The winged monkeys flew down from the sky like a dark cloud. They caught the Tin Woodman, carried him high into the air, and dropped him onto sharp rocks, denting his body and breaking his joints. They caught the scarecrow, pulled all the straw out of his clothes, and threw his empty hat and boots into the branches of a tall tree.
But when they saw Dorothy, they saw the shining mark of the good witch's kiss on her forehead, and they dared not hurt her. Instead, they carried her and the lion to the castle of the wicked witch, where the lion was locked in a cage, and Dorothy was made a kitchen slave. The wicked witch of the West was cruel, but she was also afraid of Dorothy, for she saw the silver shoes on the girl's feet and knew they possessed a great secret power.
The witch wanted those shoes more than anything, but Dorothy only took them off when she slept, or when she took her bath, and the witch was deathly afraid of water and would never go near it. One day, the witch placed an invisible iron bar on the kitchen floor, causing Dorothy to trip.
As Dorothy fell, one of her silver shoes came off, and the witch snatched it up, laughing cruelly. "It is mine now," the witch shrieked, "and soon I shall have the other one too." Dorothy was so angry at this trick, and so tired of the witch's cruelty, that she grabbed a bucket of water that stood nearby and threw it over the witch, soaking her from head to foot.
The witch let out a scream of utter terror. "See what you have done!" she wailed, her body beginning to shrink and melt like sugar in a cup of hot tea. "I am melting! I am melting away!" Dorothy watched in astonishment as the wicked witch of the West dissolved into a shapeless, muddy puddle on the stone floor, leaving nothing behind but her old black hat.
Dorothy picked up her silver shoe, put it back on her foot, and ran to free the lion. Together, they called upon the Winkies, the friendly people of the West who had been enslaved by the witch. The Winkies were so grateful to be free that they found the Tin Woodman, hammered out his dents, polished his tin until it shone like silver, and stuffed the scarecrow with fresh, clean straw.
Once more, the friends were united, and they set off back to the Emerald City to claim their rewards. When they arrived, they went straight to the great throne room, but the room was empty, and though they called out to the wizard, there was no answer. "We have killed the wicked witch!" Dorothy called out.
"We have come for your promises!" "Come back tomorrow," a voice boomed from the empty air. "I must think about it." "No!" the lion roared, his voice shaking the walls. "We have waited long enough. You must keep your word." In his anger, the lion let out a roar so loud that little Toto jumped in fright.
The little dog ran into a corner of the room, got behind a heavy green screen that stood near the wall, and began to bark furiously. "Toto, come back!" Dorothy called. But Toto had found something. He began to pull at the screen with his teeth. With a soft rustle, the screen fell forward.
There, standing in the corner of the room, was an ordinary little bald man with a wrinkled face. He was holding a large megaphone in one hand, and with the other, he was pulling a set of levers that controlled the giant, glowing head on the throne. The companions stared at him in shocked silence.
The little man looked at them, his face turning pale. He lowered the megaphone and gave a weak, embarrassed smile. "Are you the great and terrible wizard?" Dorothy asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "Hush, my dear," the little man whispered, looking around as if he were afraid someone would hear him.
"Do not speak so loud. Yes, I am the wizard, but please, don't tell anyone. I am humbug." "A humbug?" cried the scarecrow. "But what about my brain?" "And my heart?" asked the Tin Woodman. "And my courage?" growled the lion. The little man sighed and sat down on a stool. "My friends," he said gently, "I am not a wizard at all.
I am just an ordinary man from Omaha. Many years ago, I went up in a hot air balloon at a circus, and the wind caught me and carried me far away, across the great desert, until I landed here. The people saw me descend from the sky and thought I must be a great wizard. I let them believe it, and I built this beautiful city, and I hid behind my screens so no one would ever know the truth." "But this is terrible!" Dorothy said.
"How am I to get back to Kansas?" "I do not know," the wizard admitted sadly. "But as for your friends," He turned to the scarecrow. "My friend, you do not need a brain. Every day on your journey, you have been the one to think of the plans. You knew how to cross the ditch, and you knew how to save us from the Calidas.
You think because you are stuffed with straw, you cannot think, but a brain is not what makes a man wise, it is experience, and you have plenty of that." "That may be," said the scarecrow, "but I shall be very unhappy unless you give me one." The wizard sighed. "Very well, if you will step close, I will give you a brain." He took the scarecrow's head, opened the top of the sack, and poured in a mixture of bran, pins, and needles.
"There," he said, sewing the head back up. "Now you have a brain that is as sharp as needles." The scarecrow walked around the room, his painted face beaming. "I can feel it working!" he cried. "I am the wisest man in Oz!" Then the wizard turned to the Tin Woodman. "You want a heart," he said.
"But you have the tenderest heart of any creature I have ever met. You wept for a tiny beetle, and you fought to save the mice. You do not need a heart to love, you already love everything you see." "But I want one anyway," said the woodman. The wizard went to a cabinet and brought out a beautiful heart made of red silk, stuffed with sawdust.
"Here," he said, slipping it inside the woodman's tin chest. "A heart that is kind and true." The Tin Woodman placed his hand over his chest. "I can feel it beating," he whispered, his eyes shining. "It is a beautiful heart." "Finally, the wizard looked at the lion. "You want courage," he said.
"But you jumped the great ditch, and you stood your ground against the Calidas. Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is doing what is right, even when you are terrified. You have always had courage." "Perhaps," said the lion, "but I should feel much better if I had some of the kind that is kept in a bottle." The wizard poured a green liquid from a fancy bottle into a gold cup.
"Drink this," he said. The lion drank it down, then shook his mane and let out a soft roar. "I can feel it filling my veins!" he cried. "I am the bravest lion in all the world!" The wizard smiled, a little sadly, as he watched them celebrate. He had given them nothing but things they had carried inside themselves the whole time.
But they needed to believe in them to make them real. But for Dorothy, there was no simple trick. The wizard tried to build a new hot air balloon to carry her home. But on the day of the launch, just as the balloon was about to rise, Toto ran into the crowd to chase a squirrel.
Dorothy ran to catch him, and before she could get back into the basket, the rope snapped, and the balloon sailed away into the sky, carrying the wizard of Omaha with it, leaving Dorothy behind. Dorothy sat on the green marble steps of the palace and cried, with Toto resting his head on her knee.
Her friends stood around her, their faces filled with love and sorrow. "We must find another way," said the scarecrow, who was now the ruler of the Emerald City, since the wizard had gone. "Let us go to the South to ask Glinda, the good witch of the South. She is wise and kind, and she may know how to help you." And so, for the last time, the friends set out together.
Their journey was long, but they faced it with the strength they now knew they possessed. The scarecrow guided them with his sharp brain, the Tin Woodman cared for them with his loving heart, and the lion protected them with his fierce courage. At last, they reached the beautiful castle of Glinda, the good witch of the South.
Glinda was beautiful and young, with rich red hair and eyes that were filled with a deep, quiet wisdom. She welcomed Dorothy and her friends with a warm smile. "What can I do for you, my child?" she asked. "I want to go home to Kansas," Dorothy said. "My Aunt Em and Uncle Henry must think I am dead, and I cannot bear to have them grieve." Glinda looked down at Dorothy's feet, and her smile grew warm and knowing.
"My dear," she said, "your silver shoes have the power to carry you over the desert and back to your home in an instant. If you had known their power, you could have gone back to Kansas on the very first day you arrived in the land of Oz." "But then," said the scarecrow, "we should never have met you, and I should never have had my brain." "And I should never have had my heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"And I should never have found my courage," said the lion. Dorothy looked at her friends, her eyes filling with tears of gratitude. "That is true," she said softly. "I am glad I did not know, for I have found the best friends a girl could ever have." She turned to Glinda. "How do the shoes work?" "You must clap your heels together three times," Glinda replied, "and command the shoes to carry you wherever you wish to go." Dorothy stood up.
She threw her arms around the neck of the cowardly lion, kissing him gently. She hugged the Tin Woodman, who was careful not to let his tears rust his polished chest. She kissed the scarecrow's painted cheek, holding his straw hands tight. "Goodbye, my dear friends," she whispered. "I shall never forget you." She snatched up Toto in her arms, stood in the center of the room, and clapped her silver heels together three times.
"Take me home to Kansas," she commanded, "take me home to Aunt Em." Instantly, there was a great rushing of wind. The beautiful castle of Glinda disappeared, and the world began to spin in a blur of silver and gold. Dorothy felt herself flying through the air, so fast that she could see nothing but the wind rushing past her ears.
And then, with a sudden, gentle bump, she fell onto the grass. She opened her eyes. The green grass of Oz was gone. In its place was the wide, dry, gray prairie of Kansas. Just a few yards away stood the new house her Uncle Henry had built to replace the one the cyclone had taken.
Dorothy looked down at her feet. The silver shoes were gone, having fallen off during her flight across the great desert, lost forever in the sand. But she did not mind. Aunt Em came out of the house, carrying a bucket of water. When she saw Dorothy sitting on the grass, she dropped the bucket with a splash and ran forward, throwing her arms around her little niece.
"Dorothy, my darling child!" she cried, kissing her face over and over. "Where in the world did you come from?" Dorothy hugged her tight, feeling the warm, dry sun on her face. "From the land of Oz," she said softly, as Toto wagged his tail and licked her chin. "And oh, Aunt Em, I am so glad to be home again." Dorothy was back in her gray world, but she brought with her a heart full of love, a mind full of wonder, and a courage that would keep the gray away forever.
What about you? What are the gifts you might already carry inside yourself, just waiting for the right road to reveal them?