“Be careful,” said the Tin Woodman to the Scarecrow, who was leaning far over the side to look at the army below. “You might fall.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” remarked the educated Woggle-Bug. “he can’t get broke so long as he is stuffed with money.”
“Didn’t I ask you” began Tip, in a reproachful voice.
“You did!” said the Woggle-Bug, promptly. “And I beg your pardon. I will really try to restrain myself.”
“You’d better,” declared the boy. “That is, if you wish to travel in our company.”
“Ah! I couldn’t bear to part with you now,” murmured the Insect, feelingly; so Tip let the subject drop.
The army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came to the walls of the Emerald City. By the dim light of the new moon, however, Glinda’s forces silently surrounded the city and pitched their tents of scarlet silk upon the greensward. The tent of the Sorceress was larger than the others, and was composed of pure white silk, with scarlet banners flying above it. A tent was also pitched for the Scarecrow’s party; and when these preparations had been made, with military precision and quickness, the army retired to rest.
Great was the amazement of Queen Jinjur next morning when her soldiers came running to inform her of the vast army surrounding them. She at once climbed to a high tower of the royal palace and saw banners waving in every direction and the great white tent of Glinda standing directly before the gates.
“We are surely lost!” cried Jinjur, in despair; “for how can our knitting-needles avail against the long spears and terrible swords of our foes?”