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Chapter Eighteen

The Tin Woodman Talks to Himself
The Tin Woodman had just noticed the cupboards and was

curious to know what they contained, so he went to one
of them and opened the door. There were shelves inside,

and upon one of the shelves which was about on a level
with his tin chin the Emperor discovered a Head -- it

looked like a doll's head, only it was larger, and he
soon saw it was the Head of some person. It was facing

the Tin Woodman and as the cupboard door swung back,
the eyes of the Head slowly opened and looked at him.

The Tin Woodman was not at all surprised, for in the
Land of Oz one runs into magic at every turn.

"Dear me!" said the Tin Woodman, staring hard. "It
seems as if I had met you, somewhere, before. Good

morning, sir!"
"You have the advantage of me," replied the Head. "I

never saw you before in my life."
"Still, your face is very familiar," persisted the

Tin Woodman. "Pardon me, but may I ask if you -- eh --
eh -- if you ever had a Body?"

"Yes, at one time," answered the Head, "but that is
so long ago I can't remember it. Did you think," with a

pleasant smile, "that I was born just as I am? That a
Head would be created without a Body?"

"No, of course not," said the other. "But how came
you to lose your body?"

"Well, I can't recollect the details; you'll have to
ask Ku-Klip about it," returned the Head. "For, curious

as it may seem to you, my memory is not good since my
separation from the rest of me. I still possess my

brains and my intellect is as good as ever, but my
memory of some of the events I formerlyexperienced is

quite hazy."
"How long have you been in this cupboard?" asked the

Emperor.
"I don't know."

"Haven't you a name?"
"Oh, yes," said the Head; "I used to be called Nick

Chopper, when I was a woodman and cut down trees for a
living."

"Good gracious!" cried the Tin Woodman in
astonishment. "If you are Nick Chopper's Head, then you

are Me -- or I'm You -- or -- or -- What relation are
we, anyhow?"

"Don't ask me," replied the Head. "For my part, I'm
not anxious to claim relationship with any common,

manufactured article, like you. You may be all right in
your class, but your class isn't my class. You're tin."

The poor Emperor felt so bewildered that for a time he could
only stare at his old Head in silence. Then he said:

"I must admit that I wasn't at all bad looking before
I became tin. You're almost handsome -- for meat. If

your hair was combed, you'd be quite attractive."
"How do you expect me to comb my hair without help?"

demanded the Head, indignantly. "I used to keep it
smooth and neat, when I had arms, but after I was

removed from the rest of me, my hair got mussed,
and old Ku-Klip never has combed it for me."

"I'll speak to him about it," said the Tin Woodman.
"Do you remember loving a pretty Munchkin girl named

Nimmie Amee?"
"No," answered the Head. "That is a foolish question.

The heart in my body -- when I had a body -- might have
loved someone, for all I know, but a head isn't made to

love; it's made to think."
"Oh; do you think, then?"

"I used to think."
"You must have been shut up in this cupboard for

years and years. What have you thought about, in all
that time?"

"Nothing. That's another foolish question. A little
reflection will convince you that I have had nothing to

think about, except the boards on the inside of the
cupboard door, and it didn't take me long to think of

everything about those boards that could be thought of.
Then, of course, I quit thinking."

"And are you happy?"
"Happy? What's that?"

"Don't you know what happiness is?" inquired the Tin
Woodman.

"I haven't the faintest idea whether it's round or
square, or black or white, or what it is. And, if you

will pardon my lack of interest in it, I will say that
I don't care."

The Tin Woodman was much puzzled by these answers.
His traveling companions had grouped themselves at his

back, and had fixed their eyes on the Head and listened
to the conversation with much interest, but until now,

they had not interrupted because they thought the Tin
Woodman had the best right to talk to his own head and

renew acquaintance with it.
But now the Tin Soldier remarked:

"I wonder if my old head happens to be in any of
these cupboards," and he proceeded to open all the

cupboard doors. But no other head was to be found on
any of the shelves.

"Oh, well; never mind," said Woot the Wanderer; "I
can't imagine what anyone wants of a cast-off head,

anyhow."
"I can understand the Soldier's interest," asserted

Polychrome, dancing around the grimy workshop until her
draperies formed a cloud around her dainty form. "For

sentimental reasons a man might like to see his old
head once more, just as one likes to revisit an old

home."
"And then to kiss it good-bye," added the Scarecrow.

"I hope that tin thing won't try to kiss me good-
bye!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman's former head. "And I

don't see what right you folks have to disturb my peace
and comfort, either."

"You belong to me," the Tin Woodman declared.
"I do not!"

"You and I are one."
"We've been parted," asserted the Head. "It would be

unnatural for me to have any interest in a man made of
tin. Please close the door and leave me alone."

"I did not think that my old Head could be so
agreeable" target="_blank" title="a.令人不悦的">disagreeable," said the Emperor. "I -- I'm quite

ashamed of myself; meaning you."
"You ought to be glad that I've enough sense to know

what my rights are," retorted the Head. "In this
cupboard I am leading a simple life, peaceful and

dignified, and when a mob of people in whom I am not
interested disturb me, they are the agreeable" target="_blank" title="a.令人不悦的">disagreeable ones;

not I."
With a sigh the Tin Woodman closed and latched the

cupboard door and turned away.
"Well," said the Tin Soldier, "if my old head would

have treated me as coldly and in so unfriendly a manner
as your old head has treated you, friend Chopper, I'm

glad I could not find it."
"Yes; I'm rather surprised at my head, myself,"

replied the Tin Woodman, thoughtfully. "I thought I had
a more pleasant disposition when I was made of meat."

But just then old Ku-Klip the Tinsmith arrived, and
he seemed surprised to find so many visitors. Ku-Klip

was a stout man and a short man. He had his sleeves
rolled above his elbows, showing muscular arms, and he

wore a leathern apron that covered all the front of
him, and was so long that Woot was surprised he didn't

step on it and trip whenever he walked. And Ku-Klip had
a gray beard that was almost as long as his apron, and

his head was bald on top and his ears stuck out from
his head like two fans. Over his eyes, which were

bright and twinkling, he wore big spectacles. It was
easy to see that the tinsmith was a kind hearted man,

as well as a merry and agreeable one. "Oh-ho!" he cried
in a joyous bass voice; "here are both my tin men come

to visit me, and they and their friends are welcome
indeed. I'm very proud of you two characters, I assure

you, for you are so perfect that you are proof that I'm
a good workman. Sit down. Sit down, all of you -- if

you can find anything to sit on -- and tell me why you
are here."

So they found seats and told him all of their
adventures that they thought he would like to know. Ku-

Klip was glad to learn that Nick Chopper, the Tin
Woodman, was now Emperor of the Winkies and a friend of

Ozma of Oz, and the tinsmith was also interested in the
Scarecrow and Polychrome.

He turned the straw man around, examining him
curiously, and patted him on all sides, and then said:

"You are certainly wonderful, but I think you would
be more durable and steady on your legs if you were

made of tin. Would you like me to --"
"No, indeed!" interrupted the Scarecrow hastily; "I

like myself better as I am."
But to Polychrome the tinsmith said:

"Nothing could improve you, my dear, for you are the
most beautiful maiden I have ever seen. It is pure

happiness just to look at you."
"That is praise, indeed, from so skillful a workman,"

returned the Rainbow's Daughter, laughing and dancing
in and out the room.

"Then it must be this boy you wish me to help," said
Ku-Klip, looking at Woot.

"No," said Woot, "we are not here to seek your skill,
but have merely come to you for information."

Then, between them, they related their search for
Nimmie Amee, whom the Tin Woodman explained he had

resolved to marry, yet who had promised to become the
bride of the Tin Soldier before he unfortunately became

rusted. And when the story was told, they asked Ku-Klip
if he knew what had become of Nimmie Amee.

"Not exactly," replied the old man, "but I know that
she wept bitterly when the Tin Soldier did not come to

marry her, as he had promised to do. The old Witch was
so provoked at the girl's tears that she beat Nimmie

Amee with her crooked stick and then hobbled away to
gather some magic herbs, with which she intended to

transform the girl into an old hag, so that no one
would again love her or care to marry her. It was while

she was away on this errand that Dorothy's house fell
on the Wicked Witch, and she turned to dust and blew

away. When I heard this good news, I sent Nimmie Amee
to find the Silver Shoes which the Witch had worn, but

Dorothy had taken them with her to the Emerald City."
"Yes, we know all about those Silver Shoes," said the

Scarecrow.
"Well," continued Ku-Klip, "after that, Nimmie Amee



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