So again he walked through the rows between the cornstalks and they came to a little clear place in the middle of the field.
There, flat on his back, lay Mr. Scarecrow.
He too looked as if he were dead. But he was not.
For his body was only two sticks of wood nailed together like a cross. He was dressed in Father Green's old blue trousers and the Toyman's old black coat. His arms were outstretched. But he had lost his hat. His wooden head stuck out.
The Toyman picked him up and stood him straight on his one wooden leg. Then he put the old felt hat on his hard head.
"There, old wooden top," the Toyman spoke to him sternly. "Don't leave your beat."
But Marmaduke was puzzled.
"How could he scare Mr. Jim Crow away like a policeman? He can't run with that wooden leg."
"Silly," said Jehosophat, for he was older than Marmaduke and knew Mr. Scarecrow very well.
"Ha, ha, ha, that's another good one," said the Toyman. "Of course he can't run. But when all the Crows see him standing up in the cornfield they think he is a real man. They are afraid Mr. Scarecrow will shoot. For they know that things that wear coats and hats often have guns. And guns have killed their chums. So they do not come very near when Mr. Scarecrow is around."