“Now I’ll make the eyes,” said the farmer. So he painted my right eye, and as soon as it was finished I found myself looking at him and at everything around me with a great deal of curiosity, for this was my first glimpse of the world. “That’s a rather pretty eye,” remarked the Munchkin who was watching the farmer. “Blue paint is just the color for eyes.’ “I think I’ll make the other a little bigger,” said the farmer. And when the second eye was done I could see much better than before.
Then he made my nose and my mouth. But I did not speak, because at that time I didn’t know what a mouth was for. I had the fun of watching them make my body and my arms and legs; and when they fastened on my head, at last, I felt very proud, for I thought I was just as good a man as anyone. “This fellow will scare the crows fast enough,’ said the farmer. He looks just like a man.’ “Why, he is a man,’ said the other, and I quite agreed with him.
The farmer carried me under his arm to the cornfield, and set me up on a tall stick, where you found me. He and his friend soon after walked away and left me alone. “I did not like to be deserted this way. So I tried to walk after them. But my feet would not touch the ground, and I was forced to stay on that pole. It was a lonely life to lead, for I had nothing to think of, having been made such a little while before.
Many crows and other birds flew into the cornfield, but as soon as they saw me they flew away again, thinking I was a Munchkin; and this pleased me and made me feel that I was quite an important person. By and by an old crow flew near me, and after looking at me carefully he perched upon my shoulder and said: “I wonder if that farmer thought to fool me in this clumsy manner. Any crow of sense could see that you are only stuffed with straw.’ Then he hopped down at my feet and ate all the corn he wanted. The other birds, seeing he was not harmed by me, came to eat the corn too, so in a short time there was a great flock of them about me. “I felt sad at this, for it showed I was not such a good Scarecrow after all; but the old crow comforted me, saying, If you only had brains in your head you would be as good a man as any of them, and a better