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CHAPTER 26 - DOROTHY FORGIVES
The gray dove which had once been Ugu the Shoemaker sat on its tree in the
far Quadling Country and moped, chirping dismally and brooding over its
misfortunes. After a time, the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman came along
and sat beneath the tree, paying no heed to the mutterings of the gray dove.
The Tin Woodman took a small oilcan from his tin pocket and carefully oiled
his tin joints with it.
While he was thus engaged, the Scarecrow remarked, "I feel much better, dear
comrade, since we found that heap of nice, clean straw and you stuffed me
anew with it."
"
And I feel much better now that my joints are oiled," returned the Tin
Woodman with a sigh of pleasure. "You and I, friend Scarecrow, are much
more easily cared for than those clumsy meat people, who spend half their
time dressing in fine clothes and who must live in splendid dwellings in order
to be contented and happy. You and I do not eat, and so we are spared the
dreadful bother of getting three meals a day. Nor do we waste half our lives in
sleep, a condition that causes the meat people to lose all consciousness and
become as thoughtless and helpless as logs of wood."
"
You speak truly," responded the Scarecrow, tucking some wisps of straw into
his breast with his padded fingers. "I often feel sorry for the meat people,
many of whom are my friends. Even the beasts are happier than they, for
they require less to make them content. And the birds are the luckiest
creatures of all, for they can fly swiftly where they will and find a home at any
place they care to perch. Their food consists of seeds and grains they gather
from the fields, and their drink is a sip of water from some running brook. If I
could not be a Scarecrow or a Tin Woodman, my next choice would be to live
as a bird does."
The gray dove had listened carefully to this speech and seemed to find comfort
in it, for it hushed its moaning. And just then the Tin Woodman discovered
Cayke's dishpan, which was on the ground quite near to him. "Here is a
rather pretty utensil," he said, taking it in his tin hand to examine it, "but I
would not care to own it. Whoever fashioned it of gold and covered it with
diamonds did not add to its usefulness, nor do I consider it as beautiful as the
bright dishpans of tin one usually sees. No yellow color is ever so handsome
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