"And you promised to give me a heart," said the Tin Woodman.
"And you promised to give me courage," said the Cowardly
Lion.
"Is the Wicked Witch really destroyed?" asked the Voice, and
Dorothy thought it trembled a little.
"Yes," she answered, "I melted her with a bucket of water."
"Dear me," said the Voice, "how sudden! Well, come to me
tomorrow, for I must have time to think it over."
"You've had plenty of time already," said the Tin Woodman
angrily.
"We shan't wait a day longer," said the Scarecrow.
"You must keep your promises to us!" exclaimed Dorothy.
The Lion thought it might be as well to frighten the Wizard, so
he gave a large, loud roar, which was so fierce and dreadful that
Toto jumped away from him in alarm and tipped over the screen that
stood in a corner. As it fell with a crash they looked that way,
and the next moment all of them were filled with wonder. For they
saw, standing in just the spot the screen had hidden, a little old
man, with a bald head and a wrinkled face, who seemed to be as much
surprised as they were. The Tin Woodman, raising his axe, rushed
toward the little man and cried out, "Who are you?"
"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible," said the little man, in a
trembling voice. "But don't strike me—please don't—and I'll do
anything you want me to."
Our friends looked at him in surprise and dismay.
"I thought Oz was a great Head," said Dorothy.
"And I thought Oz was a lovely Lady," said the Scarecrow.
"And I thought Oz was a terrible Beast," said the Tin
Woodman.
"And I thought Oz was a Ball of Fire," exclaimed the Lion.
"No, you are all wrong," said the little man meekly. "I have
been making believe."
"Making believe!" cried Dorothy. "Are you not a Great
Wizard?"
"Hush, my dear," he said. "Don't speak so loud, or you will be
overheard—and I should be ruined. I'm supposed to be a Great
Wizard."
"And aren't you?" she asked.
"Not a bit of it, my dear; I'm just a common man."
"You're more than that," said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone;
"you're a humbug.""You're more than that," said the Scarecrow, in a grieved tone;
"you're a humbug."
"Exactly so!" declared the little man, rubbing his hands
together as if it pleased him. "I am a humbug."
"But this is terrible," said the Tin Woodman. "How shall I ever
get my heart?"
"Or I my courage?" asked the Lion.
"Or I my brains?" wailed the Scarecrow, wiping the tears from
his eyes with his coat sleeve.
"My dear friends," said Oz, "I pray you not to speak of these
little things. Think of me, and the terrible trouble I'm in at
being found out."
"Doesn't anyone else know you're a humbug?" asked Dorothy.
"No one knows it but you four—and myself," replied Oz. "I have
fooled everyone so long that I thought I should never be found out.
It was a great mistake my ever letting you into the Throne Room.
Usually I will not see even my subjects, and so they believe I am
something terrible."
"But, I don't understand," said Dorothy, in bewilderment. "How
was it that you appeared to me as a great Head?"
"That was one of my tricks," answered Oz. "Step this way,
please, and I will tell you all about it."
He led the way to a small chamber in the rear of the Throne
Room, and they all followed him. He pointed to one corner, in which
lay the great Head, made out of many thicknesses of paper, and with
a carefully painted face.
"This I hung from the ceiling by a wire," said Oz. "I stood
behind the screen and pulled a thread, to make the eyes move and
the mouth open."
"But how about the voice?" she inquired.
"Oh, I am a ventriloquist," said the little man. "I can throw
the sound of my voice wherever I wish, so that you thought it was
coming out of the Head. Here are the other things I used to deceive
you." He showed the Scarecrow the dress and the mask he had worn
when he seemed to be the lovely Lady. And the Tin Woodman saw that
his terrible Beast was nothing but a lot of skins, sewn together,
with slats to keep their sides out. As for the Ball of Fire, the
false Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling. It was really afalse Wizard had hung that also from the ceiling. It was really a
ball of cotton, but when oil was poured upon it the ball burned
fiercely.
"Really," said the Scarecrow, "you ought to be ashamed of
yourself for being such a humbug."
"I am—I certainly am," answered the little man sorrowfully; "but
it was the only thing I could do. Sit down, please, there are
plenty of chairs; and I will tell you my story."
So they sat down and listened while he told the following
tale.
"I was born in Omaha—"
"Why, that isn't very far from Kansas!" cried Dorothy.
"No, but it's farther from here," he said, shaking his head at
her sadly. "When I grew up I became a ventriloquist, and at that I
was very well trained by a great master. I can imitate any kind of
a bird or beast." Here he mewed so like a kitten that Toto pricked
up his ears and looked everywhere to see where she was. "After a
time," continued Oz, "I tired of that, and became a
balloonist."
"What is that?" asked Dorothy.
"A man who goes up in a balloon on circus day, so as to draw a
crowd of people together and get them to pay to see the circus," he
explained.
"Oh," she said, "I know."
"Well, one day I went up in a balloon and the ropes got twisted,
so that I couldn't come down again. It went way up above the
clouds, so far that a current of air struck it and carried it many,
many miles away. For a day and a night I traveled through the air,
and on the morning of the second day I awoke and found the balloon
floating over a strange and beautiful country.
"It came down gradually, and I was not hurt a bit. But I found
myself in the midst of a strange people, who, seeing me come from
the clouds, thought I was a great Wizard. Of course I let them
think so, because they were afraid of me, and promised to do
anything I wished them to.
"Just to amuse myself, and keep the good people busy, I ordered
them to build this City, and my Palace; and they did it all
willingly and well. Then I thought, as the country was so green and