When they marched him out before
the concourse of people he turned to the King with great
calmness and said:
"This wicked deed will cost you your throne, as well as
much suffering, for my friends will avenge my
destruction."
"Your friends are not here, nor will they know what I
have done to you, when you are gone and can-not tell
them," answered the King in a scornful voice.
Then he ordered the Scarecrow bound to a stout stake
that he had had driven into the ground, and the materials
for the fire were heaped all around him. When this had
been done, the King's brass band struck up a lively tune
and old Googly-Goo came forward with a lighted match and
set fire to the pile.
At once the flames shot up and crept closer and closer
toward the Scarecrow. The King and all his people were so
intent upon this terrible spectacle that none of them
noticed how the sky grew suddenly dark. Perhaps they
thought that the loud buzzing sound -- like the noise of
a dozen moving railway trains -- came from the blazing
fagots; that the rush of wind was merely a breeze.
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