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Chapter 18. The Tin Woodman Talks to Himself (continued)
"Oh, yes," said the Head; "I used to be called Nick Chopper, when I was a woodman and cut down trees for a living."
"Good gracious!" cried the Tin Woodman in astonishment. "If you are Nick Chopper's Head, then you are Me -- or I'm You -- or -- or -- What relation are we, anyhow?"
"Don't ask me," replied the Head. "For my part, I'm not anxious to claim relationship with any common, manufactured article, like you. You may be all right in your class, but your class isn't my class. You're tin."
The poor Emperor felt so bewildered that for a time he could only stare at his old Head in silence. Then he said:
"I must admit that I wasn't at all bad looking before I became tin. You're almost handsome -- for meat. If your hair was combed, you'd be quite attractive."
"How do you expect me to comb my hair without help?" demanded the Head, indignantly. "I used to keep it smooth and neat, when I had arms, but after I was removed from the rest of me, my hair got mussed, and old Ku-Klip never has combed it for me."
"I'll speak to him about it," said the Tin Woodman. "Do you remember loving a pretty Munchkin girl named Nimmie Amee?"
"No," answered the Head. "That is a foolish question. The heart in my body -- when I had a body -- might have loved someone, for all I know, but a head isn't made to love; it's made to think."
"Oh; do you think, then?"
"I used to think."
"You must have been shut up in this cupboard for years and years. What have you thought about, in all that time?"
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