"The butterflies are among the prettiest of all
created things, and they are very sensitive to
pain. To tear a wing from one would cause it
exquisite torture and it would soon die in great
agony. I would not permit such a wicked deed
under any circumstances!"
Ojo was astounded at hearing this. Dorothy, too,
looked grave and disconcerted, but she knew in her
heart that the Tin Woodman was right. The
Scarecrow nodded his head in approval of his
friend's speech, so it was evident that he agreed
with the Emperor's decision. Scraps looked from
one to another in perplexity.
"Who cares for a butterfly?" she asked.
"Don't you?" inquired the Tin Woodman.
"Not the snap of a finger, for I have no heart,"
said the Patchwork Girl. "But I want to help
Ojo, who is my friend, to rescue the uncle whom
he loves, and I'd kill a dozen useless butterflies
to enable him to do that."
The Tin Woodman sighed regretfully.
"You have kind instincts," he said, "and with a
heart you would indeed be a fine creature. I
cannot blame you for your heartless remark, as you
cannot understand the feelings of those who
possess hearts. I, for instance, have a very neat
and responsive heart which the wonderful Wizard
of Oz once gave me, and so I shall never--never--
never permit a poor yellow butterfly to be
tortured by anyone.
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