Cap'n Bill for me."

"I will try, anyhow," he promised. "But who is that old woman who is
running toward us and shaking her stick at us?"

Trot and Pon turned around and both uttered an exclamation of fear. The
next instant they took to their heels and ran fast up the path. For it
was old Blinkie, the Wicked Witch, who had at last traced them to this
place. Her anger was so great that she was determined not to abandon
the chase of Pon and Trot until she had caught and punished them. The
Scarecrow understood at once that the old woman meant harm to his new
friends, so as she drew near he stepped before her. His appearance was
so sudden and unexpected that Blinkie ran into him and toppled him
over, but she tripped on his straw body and went rolling in the path
beside him.

The Scarecrow sat up and said: "I beg your pardon!" but she whacked him
with her stick and knocked him flat again. Then, furious with rage, the
old witch sprang upon her victim and began pulling the straw out of his
body. The poor Scarecrow was helpless to resist and in a few moments
all that was left of him was an empty suit of clothes and a heap of
straw beside it. Fortunately, Blinkie did not harm his head, for it
rolled into a little hollow and escaped her notice. Fearing that Pon
and Trot would escape her, she quickly resumed the chase and
disappeared over the brow of a hill, following the direction in which
she had seen them go.

Only a short time elapsed before a gray grasshopper with a wooden leg
came hopping along and lit directly on the upturned face of the
Scarecrow's head.

"Pardon me, but you are resting yourself upon my nose," remarked the
Scarecrow.

"Oh! are you alive?" asked the grasshopper.

"That is a question I have never been able to decide," said the
Scarecrow's head. "When my body is properly stuffed I have animation
and can move around as well as any live person. The brains in the head
you are now occupying as a throne, are of very superior quality and do
a lot of very clever thinking. But whether that is being alive, or not,
I cannot prove to you; for one who lives is liable to death, while I am
only liable to destruction."

"Seems to me," said the grasshopper, rubbing his nose with his front
legs, "that in your case it doesn't matter--unless you're destroyed
already."

"I am not; all I need is re-stuffing," declared the Scarecrow; "and if
Pon and Trot escape the witch, and come back here, I am sure they will
do me