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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 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 disagreeable ones; not I."

With a sigh the Tin Woodman closed and latched the cupboard door and

turned away.

The Tin Woodman of Oz