"No, indeed. I don't know anything. You see, I am stuffed,
so I have no brains at all," he answered sadly.
"Oh," said Dorothy, "I'm awfully sorry for you."
"Do you think," he asked, "if I go to the Emerald City with you,
that Oz would give me some brains?"
"I cannot tell," she returned, "but you may come with me,
if you like. If Oz will not give you any brains you will be
no worse off than you are now."
"That is true," said the Scarecrow. "You see," he continued
confidentially, "I don't mind my legs and arms and body being
stuffed, because I cannot get hurt. If anyone treads on my toes
or sticks a pin into me, it doesn't matter, for I can't feel it.
But I do not want people to call me a fool, and if my head stays
stuffed with straw instead of with brains, as yours is, how am I
ever to know anything?"
"I understand how you feel," said the little girl, who was
truly sorry for him. "If you will come with me I'll ask Oz to
do all he can for you.
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