With some difficulty the boy managed to get his knife out of his pocket and
cut the cords that bound the riders to one another and to the wooden horse.
He heard the Scarecrow fall to the ground with a mushy sound, and then he
himself quickly dismounted and looked at his friend Jack.
The wooden body, with its gorgeous clothing,
111
still sat upright upon the horse's back; but the pumpkin head was gone, and
only the sharpened stick that served for a neck was visible. As for the
Scarecrow, the straw in his body had shaken down with the jolting and packed
itself into his legs and the lower part of his body -- which appeared very
plump and round while his upper half seemed like an empty sack. Upon his
head the Scarecrow still wore the heavy crown, which had been sewed on to
prevent his losing it; but the head was now so damp and limp that the weight
of the gold and jewels sagged forward and crushed the painted face into a
mass of wrinkles that made him look exactly like a Japanese pug dog.
Tip would have laughed -- had he not been so anxious about his man Jack. But
the Scarecrow, however damaged, was all there, while the pumpkin head that
was so necessary to Jack's existence was missing; so the boy seized a long
pole that fortunately lay near at hand and anxiously turned again toward the
river.
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