They had not gone far before a man ran out of a house shouting wildly,
"Help! Help!"
The Sawhorse stopped short and the Wizard and Uncle Henry and the
Shaggy Man and Omby Amby jumped out of the wagon and ran to the poor
man's assistance. Dorothy followed them as quickly as she could.
"What's the matter?" asked the Wizard.
"Help! help!" screamed the man; "my wife has cut her finger off and
she's bleeding to death!"
Then he turned and rushed back to the house, and all the party went
with him. They found a woman in the front dooryard moaning and
groaning as if in great pain.
"Be brave, madam!" said the Wizard, consolingly. "You won't die just
because you have cut off a finger, you may be sure."
"But I haven't cut off a finger!" she sobbed.
"Then what HAS happened?" asked Dorothy.
"I--I pricked my finger with a needle while I was sewing, and--and the
blood came!" she replied. "And now I'll have blood-poisoning, and the
doctors will cut off my finger, and that will give me a fever and I
shall die!"
"Pshaw!" said Dorothy; "I've pricked my finger many a time,
and nothing happened."
"Really?" asked the woman, brightening and wiping her eyes
upon her apron.
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