"What a remarkable thing, to be alive!" exclaimed Dorothy.
"I quiet agree with you," replied the Sawhorse, in a rough but not
unpleasant voice. "A creature like me has no business to live, as we
all know. But it was the magic powder that did it, so I cannot justly
be blamed."
"Of course not," said Dorothy. "And you seem to be of some use,
'cause I noticed the Scarecrow riding upon your back."
"Oh, yes; I'm of use," returned the Sawhorse; "and I never tire, never
have to be fed, or cared for in any way."
"Are you intel'gent?" asked the girl.
"Not very," said the creature. "It would be foolish to waste
intelligence on a common Sawhorse, when so many professors need it.
But I know enough to obey my masters, and to gid-dup, or whoa, when
I'm told to. So I'm pretty well satisfied."
That night Dorothy slept in a pleasant little bed-chamber next to that
occupied by Ozma of Oz, and Billina perched upon the foot of the bed
and tucked her head under her wing and slept as soundly in that
position as did Dorothy upon her soft cushions.
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