When I returned to my work the axe slipped and cut off my head, which was the only meat part of me then remaining.

Moreover, the old woman grabbed up my severed head and carried it away with her and hid it.

But Nimmie Amee came into the forest and found me wandering around helplessly, because I could not see where to go, and she led me to my friend the tinsmith.

The faithful fellow at once set to work to make me a tin head, and he had just completed it when Nimmie Amee came running up with my old head, which she had stolen from the Witch.

But, on reflection, I considered the tin head far superior to the meat one--I am wearing it yet, so you can see its beauty and grace of outline--and the girl agreed with me that a man all made of tin was far more perfect than one formed of different materials.