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"Friday is not unlucky," declared the Emperor. "It's just one of seven days. Do you suppose all the world becomes unlucky one-seventh of the time?" "It was the thirteenth day of the month," said Ojo. "Thirteen! Ah, that is indeed a lucky number," replied the Tin Woodman. "All my good luck seems to happen on the thirteenth.
But this one was so broad and deep that the Lion knew at once he could not leap across it. So they sat down to consider what they should do, and after serious thought the Scarecrow said: "Here is a great tree, standing close to the ditch. If the Tin Woodman can chop it down, so that it will fall to the other side, we can walk across it easily." "That is a first-rate idea," said the Lion.
"Well, den," the deep-voiced woodman stood with one boot on a low stump, fiercely trimming a branch that he had struck from the parent stem with one blow of his big, keen clasp-knife, "self not for self, for what he gone off and lef' me in de swamp?" "Ah, sir!" replied Bonaventure, "what do I unceasingly tell those dear school-chil'run?
He carried a gleaming axe to prove he was a woodman, but seldom had cause to use it because he lived in a magnificent tin castle in the Winkie Country of Oz and was the Emperor of all the Winkies. The Tin Woodman's name was Nick Chopper. He had a very good mind, but his heart was not of much account, so he was very careful to do nothing unkind or to hurt anyone's feelings.
To this distant perception of man of man "purified, removed, and to a distance that was fit" was added, in his first summer vacation, a somewhat closer interest in the small joys and sorrows of the villagers of Hawkshead, a new sympathy for the old Dame in whose house the poet still lodged, for "the quiet woodman in the woods," and even for the "frank-hearted maids of rocky Cumberland," with whom he now delighted to spend an occasional evening in dancing and country mirth.
"I honestly do feel, girls, something wonderful will come from our woodman mystery. His letter proves he is nice." "So you have given up the tramp idea, Grace," Cleo smilingly remarked. "I'm glad of that. I didn't just fancy writing my best stationery letters to some hobo."
But by using a piece of Captain Fyter here and a piece of Nick Chopper there, I finally got together a very decent body, with heart and all the trimmings complete." "Whose heart did you use in making the body?" asked the Tin Woodman anxiously. "I can't tell, for the parts had no tags on them and one heart looks much like another.
"Are we going to the Munchkin Country by way of the Emerald City?" inquired the Scarecrow, who looked upon the Tin Woodman as the leader of the party. "I think not," was the reply. "We are engaged upon a rather delicate adventure, for we are seeking a girl who fears her former lover has forgotten her.
The two weeks which followed the Bivens ball, were the happiest Harriet Woodman had known since Nan's shadow had fallen across her life. Every moment was crowded with the work of preparing for her trip, except the hours she could not refuse Stuart, who had suddenly waked to the fact that something beautiful was going out of his life.
"And she to be so pitiful over him," said the woodman, laughing till the floor shook under him, "and to talk and boast of our house, and insist on helping him to more potatoes, when he has a palace of his own, and heaps of riches! Oh, dear! oh, dear!" "Don't laugh, Will," said the wife, "and I'll make you the most beautiful firmity you ever tasted to-morrow. Don't let him hear you laughing."
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