“Yes, and a wooden body and wooden legs—which are as swift as the wind and as tireless. I’ve heard Dorothy say that ‘handsome is as handsome does,’ and I surely perform my duties in a handsome manner. Therefore, if you wish my honest judgment, I will confess that among us all I am the most beautiful.”

The Mule snorted and the Woozy laughed; Toto had lost his growl and could only look scornfully at the Sawhorse, who stood in his place unmoved. But the Lion stretched himself and yawned, saying quietly:

“Were we all like the Sawhorse we would all be Sawhorses, which would be too many of the kind; were we all like Hank, we would be a herd of mules; if like Toto, we would be a pack of dogs; should we all become the shape of the Woozy, he would no longer be remarkable for his unusual appearance. Finally, were you all like me, I would consider you so common that I would not care to associate with you. To be individual, my friends, to be different from others, is the only way to become distinguished from the common herd. Let us be glad, therefore, that we differ from one another in form and in disposition. Variety is the spice of life and we are various enough to enjoy one another’s society; so let us be content.”

“There is some truth in that speech,” remarked Toto reflectively. “But how about my lost growl?”

“The growl is of importance only to you,” responded the Lion, “so it is your business to worry over the loss, not ours. If you love us, do not inflict your burdens on us; be unhappy all by yourself.”

“If the same person stole my growl who stole Ozma,” said the little dog, “I hope we shall find him very soon and punish him as he deserves. He must be the most cruel person in all the world, for to prevent a dog from growling when it is his nature to growl is just as wicked, in my opinion, as stealing all the magic in Oz.”

Chapter 11

Button-Bright Loses Himself

The Patchwork Girl, who never slept and who could see very well in the dark, had wandered among the rocks and bushes all night long, with the result that she was able to tell some good news the next morning.

“Over the crest of the hill before us,” she said, “is a big grove of trees of many kinds, on which all sorts of fruits grow. If you will go there you will find a nice breakfast awaiting you.”

This made them eager to start, so as soon as the blankets were folded and strapped to the back of the Sawhorse they all took their places on the animals and set out for the big grove Scraps had told them of.