“It is but honest that I should acknowledge at the beginning of my
recital that I was born an ordinary Woggle-Bug,” began the creature, in
a frank and friendly tone. “Knowing no better, I used my arms as well
as my legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid
among the roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects
smaller than myself to feed upon.
“The chill nights rendered me stiff and motionless, for I wore no
clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new life
and restored me to activity. A horrible existence is this, but you must
remember it is the regular ordained existence of Woggle-Bugs, as well
as of many other tiny creatures that inhabit the earth.
“But Destiny had singled me out, humble though I was, for a grander
fate! One day I crawled near to a country school house, and my
curiosity being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, I
made bold to enter and creep along a crack between two boards until I
reached the far end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat
the master at his desk.
“No one noticed so small a creature as a Woggle-Bug, and when I found
that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine,
I resolved to establish my future home beside it. So I found a charming
nest between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months.
“Professor Nowitall is, doubtless, the most famous scholar in the land
of Oz, and after a few days I began to listen to the lectures and
discourses he gave his pupils. Not one of them was more attentive than
the humble, unnoticed Woggle-Bug, and I acquired in this way a fund of
knowledge that I will myself confess is simply marvelous. That is why I
place ‘T.E.’ Thoroughly Educated upon my cards; for my greatest pride
lies in the fact that the world cannot produce another Woggle-Bug with
a tenth part of my own culture and erudition.”
“I do not blame you,” said the Scarecrow. “Education is a thing to be
proud of. I’m educated myself. The mess of brains given me by the Great
Wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled.”
“Nevertheless,” interrupted the Tin Woodman, “a good heart is, I
believe, much more desirable than education or brains.”
“To me,” said the Saw-Horse, “a good leg is more desirable than
either.”
“Could seeds be considered in the light of brains?” enquired the
Pumpkinhead, abruptly.
“Keep quiet!” commanded Tip, sternly.
“Very well, dear father,” answered the obedient Jack.
The Woggle-Bug listened patiently—even respectfully—to these remarks,
and then resumed his story.
“I must have lived fully three years in that secluded school-house
hearth,” said he, “drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of
limpid knowledge before me.”
“Quite poetical,” commented the Scarecrow, nodding his head
approvingly.
“But one, day” continued the Bug, “a marvelous circumstance occurred
that altered my very existence and brought me to my present pinnacle of
greatness. The Professor discovered me in the act of crawling across
the hearth, and before I could escape he had caught me between his
thumb and forefinger.
[Illustration: image167]
“‘My dear children,’ said he, ‘I have captured a Woggle-Bug—a very rare
and interesting specimen. Do any of you know what a Woggle-Bug is?’
“‘No!’ yelled the scholars, in chorus.
“‘Then,’ said the Professor, ‘I will get out my famous magnifying-glass
and throw the insect upon a screen in a highly-magnified condition,
that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction and become
acquainted with its habits and manner of life.’
“He then brought from a cupboard a most curious instrument, and before
I could realize what had happened I found myself thrown upon a screen
in a highly-magnified state—even as you now behold me.
[Illustration: image169]
“The students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward
to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the sill
of an open window where they could see more plainly.
“‘Behold!’ cried the Professor, in a loud voice, ‘this highly-magnified
Woggle-Bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!’
“Being Thoroughly Educated, and knowing what is required of a cultured
gentleman, at this juncture I stood upright and, placing my hand upon
my bosom, made a very polite bow. My action, being unexpected, must
have startled them, for one of the little girls perched upon the
window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the window, drawing her
companion with her as she disappeared.
“The Professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed away through the door
to see if the poor children were injured by the fall. The scholars
followed after him in a wild mob, and I was left alone in the
school-room, still in a Highly-Magnified state and free to do as I
pleased.
“It immediately occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to
escape. I was proud of my great size, and realized that now I could
safely travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would
make me a fit associate for the most learned person I might chance to
meet.
“So, while the Professor picked the little girls—who were more
frightened than hurt—off the ground, and the pupils clustered around
him closely grouped, I calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a
corner, and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near”
“Wonderful!” exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, admiringly.
“It was, indeed,” agreed the Woggle-Bug. “I have never ceased to
congratulate myself for escaping while I was Highly Magnified; for even
my excessive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had I
remained a tiny, insignificant insect.”
[Illustration: image171]
“I didn’t know before,” said Tip, looking at the Woggle-Bug with a
puzzled expression, “that insects wore clothes.”
“Nor do they, in their natural state,” returned the stranger. “But in
the course of my wanderings I had the good fortune to save the ninth
life of a tailor—tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably
know. The fellow was exceedingly grateful, for had he lost that ninth
life it would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to
furnish me with the stylish costume I now wear. It fits very nicely,
does it not?” and the Woggle-Bug stood up and turned himself around
slowly, that all might examine his person.
“He must have been a good tailor,” said the Scarecrow, somewhat
enviously.
“He was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate,” observed Nick Chopper.
“But where were you going, when you met us?” Tip asked the Woggle-Bug.
“Nowhere in particular,” was the reply, “although it is my intention
soon to visit the Emerald City and arrange to give a course of lectures
to select audiences on the ‘Advantages of Magnification.’”
“We are bound for the Emerald City now,” said the Tin Woodman; “so, if
it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company.”
The Woggle-Bug bowed with profound grace.
“It will give me great pleasure,” said he “to accept your kind
invitation; for nowhere in the Land of Oz could I hope to meet with so
congenial a company.”
“That is true,” acknowledged the Pumpkinhead. “We are quite as
congenial as flies and honey.”
“But—pardon me if I seem inquisitive—are you not all rather—ahem!
rather unusual?” asked the Woggle-Bug, looking from one to another with
unconcealed interest.
“Not more so than yourself,” answered the Scarecrow. “Everything in
life is unusual until you get accustomed to it.”
“What rare philosophy!” exclaimed the Woggle-Bug, admiringly.
“Yes; my brains are working well today,” admitted the Scarecrow, an
accent of pride in his voice.
“Then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend our
steps toward the Emerald City,” suggested the magnified one.
“We can’t,” said Tip. “The Saw-Horse has broken a leg, so he can’t bend
his steps. And there is no wood around to make him a new limb from. And
we can’t leave the horse behind because the Pumpkinhead is so stiff in
his Joints that he has to ride.”
“How very unfortunate!” cried the Woggle-Bug. Then he looked the party
over carefully and said:
“If the Pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a
leg for the horse that carries him? I judge that both are made of
wood.”
“Now, that is what I call real cleverness,” said the Scarecrow,
approvingly. “I wonder my brains did not think of that long ago! Get to
work, my dear Nick, and fit the Pumpkinhead’s leg to the Saw-Horse.”
Jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he submitted to
having his left leg amputated by the Tin Woodman and whittled down to
fit the left leg of the Saw-Horse. Nor was the Saw-Horse especially
pleased with the operation, either; for he growled a good deal about
being “butchered,” as he called it, and afterward declared that the new
leg was a disgrace to a respectable Saw-Horse.
“I beg you to be more careful in your speech,” said the Pumpkinhead,
sharply. “Remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing.”
“I cannot forget it,” retorted the Saw-Horse, “for it is quite as
flimsy as the rest of your person.”
“Flimsy! me flimsy!” cried Jack, in a rage. “How dare you call me
flimsy?”
“Because you are built as absurdly as a jumping-jack,” sneered the
horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. “Even your head
won’t stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking
backwards or forwards!”
“Friends, I entreat you not to quarrel!” pleaded the Tin Woodman,
anxiously. “As a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so
let us bear with each others’ faults.”
“An excellent suggestion,” said the Woggle-Bug, approvingly. “You must
have an excellent heart, my metallic friend.”
“I have,” returned Nick, well pleased. “My heart is quite the best part
of me. But now let us start upon our Journey.
They perched the one-legged Pumpkinhead upon the Saw-Horse, and tied
him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off.
And then, following the lead of the Scarecrow, they all advanced in the
direction of the Emerald City.
[Illustration: image175]
[Illustration: image176]
[Illustration: image177]