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For a long time the Scarecrow stood perfectly still beside the bean pole--
thinking. Then he got a spade from the shed and began clearing away the
cornstalks and dried leaves from around the base of the pole. It was slow
work, for his fingers were clumsy, but he persevered. Then a wonderful idea
came to him.
"
Perhaps if I dig down a bit, I may discover--" He got no further, for at the
word "discover," he pushed the spade down with all his might. There was a
loud crash. The bottom dropped out of things, and the Scarecrow fell
through.
"
Gr-eat cornstalks!" cried the Scarecrow, throwing up his arms. To his
surprise, they came in contact with a stout pole, which he embraced. It was
a lifesaver, for he was shooting down into the darkness at a great rate.
"Why!" he gasped as soon as he regained his breath, for he was falling at a
terrific rate of speed, "Why, I believe I'm sliding down the bean pole!"
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