"Would they bite on hooks?" asked Aunt Em, curiously.
The Tin Woodman seemed hurt at this question.
"Madam," said he, "do you suppose I would allow anyone to catch my
beautiful fishes, even if they were foolish enough to bite on hooks?
No, indeed! Every created thing is safe from harm in my domain, and I
would as soon think of killing my little friend Dorothy as killing one
of my tin fishes."
"The Emperor is very kind-hearted, ma'am," explained the Wizard. "If
a fly happens to light upon his tin body he doesn't rudely brush it
off, as some people might do; he asks it politely to find some other
resting place."
"What does the fly do then?" enquired Aunt Em.
"Usually it begs his pardon and goes away," said the Wizard, gravely.
"Flies like to be treated politely as well as other creatures, and
here in Oz they understand what we say to them, and behave very nicely."
"Well," said Aunt Em, "the flies in Kansas, where I came from, don't
understand anything but a swat. You have to smash 'em to make 'em
behave; and it's the same way with 'skeeters. Do you have 'skeeters
in Oz?"
"We have some very large mosquitoes here, which sing as beautifully as
song birds," replied the Tin Woodman.
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