When Dorothy awoke the sun was shining through the trees and Toto had long been out chasing birds around him and squirrels. She sat up and looked around her. The Scarecrow was still standing in his corner, waiting for her.
“We must go and search for water,” she said to him.
“Why do you want water?” he asked.
“To wash my face clean after the dust of the road, and to drink.”
“It must be inconvenient to be made of flesh,” said the Scarecrow thoughtfully, “for you must sleep, and eat and drink. However, you have brains, and it is worth a lot.”
They left the cottage and walked through the trees until they found a little spring of clear water, where Dorothy drank and bathed and ate her breakfast. She saw there was not much bread left in the basket, and the girl was thankful the Scarecrow did not have to eat anything.
When she had finished her meal, and was about to go back to the road of yellow brick, she heard a deep groan nearby.
“What was that?” she asked.
“I cannot imagine,” replied the Scarecrow; “but we can go and see.”
Just then they heard another groan. They turned and walked through the forest a few steps, when Dorothy saw something shining in a ray of sunshine that fell between the trees. She ran to the place and then stopped, with a little cry of surprise.
One of the big trees had been partly chopped through, and standing beside it, with an uplifted axe in his hands, was a man made entirely of tin. He stood perfectly motionless, as if he could not move at all.
Dorothy looked at him in amazement, and so did the Scarecrow, while Toto barked loudly.
“Did you groan?” asked Dorothy.
“Yes,” answered the tin man, “I did. I’ve been groaning for more than a year, and no one has ever heard me before or come to help me.”
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
“Get an oil-can and oil my joints,” he answered. “They are rusted so badly that I cannot move them at all. You will find an oil-can on a shelf in my cottage.”
Dorothy at once ran back to the cottage and found the oil-can, and then returned.
“Oil my neck, first,” replied the Tin Woodman. So she oiled it.
“Now oil the joints in my arms,” he said. And Dorothy oiled them and the Scarecrow bent them carefully until they were free from rust.
The Tin Woodman gave a sigh of satisfaction and lowered his axe, which he leaned against the tree.
“This is a great comfort,” he said. “I have been holding that axe in the air ever since I rusted, and I’m glad to be able to put it down at last. Now, if you will oil the joints of my legs, I shall be all right once more.”
So they oiled his legs until he could move them freely; and he thanked them again and again.
“I might have stood there always if you had not come along,” he said; “so you have certainly saved my life. What are you doing here?”
“We are on our way to the Emerald City to see the Great Oz,” she answered, “and we stopped at your cottage to pass the night.”
“Why do you wish to see Oz?” he asked.
“I want him to send me back to Kansas, and the Scarecrow wants him to put a few brains into his head,” she replied.
The Tin Woodman appeared to think deeply for a moment. Then he said:
“Do you suppose Oz could give me a heart?”
“Why, I guess so,” Dorothy answered. “It would be as easy as to give the Scarecrow brains.”
“True,” the Tin Woodman returned. “If you will allow me to join your party, I will also go to the Emerald City and ask Oz to help me.”
“Come along,” said the Scarecrow. So the Tin Woodman took his axe and they all passed through the forest until they came back to the road paved with yellow brick.
The Tin Woodman had asked Dorothy to put the oil-can in her basket, in case he gets caught in the rain again.
It was lucky that he joined them, for soon 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 through it.
As they were walking, the Scarecrow stumbled into a hole and rolled over to the side of the road again. Dorothy helped him up.
“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’d rather have a heart.”
“And why is that?” asked the Scarecrow.
“I will tell you my story, and then you will know. 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 woodchopper, and after my father died I took care of my old mother as long as she lived. Then I decided that instead of living alone I would marry, so that I might not become lonely.
“There was one of the Munchkin girls that I loved with all my heart. She promised to marry me as soon as I could earn enough money to build a better house for her; so I set to work harder than ever. But the girl lived with an old woman who did not want her to marry anyone. She was lazy and wanted the girl to remain with her and do the cooking and the housework. So the old woman went to the Wicked Witch of the East, and promised her two sheep and a cow if she would prevent the marriage. The Wicked Witch enchanted my axe, and when I was chopping wood one day, it slipped out of my hands and cut off my left leg.
“I went to a tinsmith and had him make me a new leg out of tin. The leg worked very well, once I was used to it. But it angered the Wicked Witch of the East. So, when I began chopping again, my axe slipped and cut off my right leg. Again I went to the tinsmith, and again he made me a leg out of tin. After this the enchanted axe cut off my arms, one after the other; but I replaced them with tin ones. The Wicked Witch then made the axe slip and cut off my head, and at first I thought that was the end of me. But the tinsmith happened to come along, and he made me a new head out of tin.
“I thought I had beaten the Wicked Witch then, and I worked harder than ever. But she was cruel. She made my axe slip again, so that it cut right through my body, splitting me into two halves. Once more the tinsmith came to my help and made me a body of tin. But now I had now no heart, and so I lost all my love for the Munchkin girl.
“My body shone so brightly in the sun that I felt very proud of it. There was only one danger–that my joints would rust. There came a day when I forgot to oil them, and, being caught in a rainstorm, they had rusted, and I was left to stand in the woods until you came to help me. It was terrible, but during the year I stood there I had time to think that the greatest loss I had known was the loss of my heart. While I was in love I was the happiest man on earth; but no one can love who has not a heart, and so I want to ask Oz to give me one. If he does, I will go back to the Munchkin maiden and marry her.”
Both Dorothy and the Scarecrow were very interested in the story of the Tin Woodman.
“All the same,” said the Scarecrow, “I shall ask for brains instead of a heart.”
“I shall take the heart,” returned the Tin Woodman.
Dorothy did not say anything, for she decided she only wanted to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em.
What worried her most was that the bread was nearly gone. Neither the Woodman nor the Scarecrow ever ate anything, but unlike them, she was not made of tin nor straw.
