Not until the Scarecrow had been neatly restuffed and set upon his feet again--when he bowed to his restorers and expressed his thanks--did the grasshopper move from his perch.

Then he leaped lightly into the path and called out: "Trot--Trot! Look at me.

I'm Cap'n Bill! See what the Wicked Witch has done to me." The voice was small, to be sure, but it reached Trot's ears and startled her greatly.

She looked intently at the grasshopper, her eyes wide with fear at first; then she knelt down and, noticing the wooden leg, she began to weep sorrowfully.
"Oh, Cap'n Bill--dear Cap'n Bill! What a cruel thing to do!" she sobbed.
"Don't cry, Trot," begged the grasshopper.

"It didn't hurt any, and it doesn't hurt now.