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The Patchwork Girl Of Oz<=
/b>
By
L. Frank Baum
(AKA Edith Van Dyne)
Affectionately
Dedicated to my young friend
Sumner
Hamilton Britton of Chicago
Through the kindn=
ess
of Dorothy Gale of Kansas, afterward Princess Dorothy of Oz, an humble writ=
er
in the United States of America was once appointed Royal Historian of Oz, w=
ith
the privilege of writing the chronicle of that wonderful fairyland. But aft=
er
making six books about the adventures of those interesting but queer people=
who
live in the Land of Oz, the Historian learned with sorrow that by an edict =
of
the Supreme Ruler, Ozma of Oz, her country would thereafter be rendered inv=
isible
to all who lived outside its borders and that all communication with Oz wou=
ld,
in the future, be cut off.
The children who =
had
learned to look for the books about Oz and who loved the stories about the =
gay
and happy people inhabiting that favored country, were as sorry as their
Historian that there would be no more books of Oz stories. They wrote many
letters asking if the Historian did not know of some adventures to write ab=
out
that had happened before the Land of Oz was shut out from all the rest of t=
he world.
But he did not know of any. Finally one of the children inquired why we
couldn't hear from Princess Dorothy by wireless telegraph, which would enab=
le
her to communicate to the Historian whatever happened in the far-off Land o=
f Oz
without his seeing her, or even knowing just where Oz is.
That seemed a good
idea; so the Historian rigged up a high tower in his back yard, and took
lessons in wireless telegraphy until he understood it, and then began to ca=
ll
"Princess Dorothy of Oz" by sending messages into the air.
Now, it wasn't li=
kely
that Dorothy would be looking for wireless messages or would heed the call;=
but
one thing the Historian was sure of, and that was that the powerful Sorcere=
ss,
Glinda, would know what he was doing and that he desired to communicate with
Dorothy. For Glinda has a big book in which is recorded every event that ta=
kes
place anywhere in the world, just the moment that it happens, and so of cou=
rse
the book would tell her about the wireless message.
And that was the =
way
Dorothy heard that the Historian wanted to speak with her, and there was a
Shaggy Man in the Land of Oz who knew how to telegraph a wireless reply. The
result was that the Historian begged so hard to be told the latest news of =
Oz,
so that he could write it down for the children to read, that Dorothy asked
permission of Ozma and Ozma graciously consented.
That is why, after
two long years of waiting, another Oz story is now presented to the childre=
n of
America. This would not have been possible had not some clever man invented=
the
"wireless" and an equally clever child suggested the idea of reac=
hing
the mysterious Land of Oz by its means.
L. Frank Baum.
"OZCOT"=
at Hollywood in California
Contents:
Chapter One - The Pat=
chwork
Girl of Oz
Chapter Two - The Cro=
oked
Magician
Chapter Three - The P=
atchwork
Girl
Chapter Four - The Gl=
ass Cat
Chapter Five - A Terr=
ible
Accident
Chapter Seven - The
Troublesome Phonograph
Chapter Eight - The F=
oolish
Owl and the Wise Donkey
Chapter Nine - They M=
eet the
Woozy
Chapter Ten - Shaggy =
Man to
the Rescue
Chapter Eleven - A Go=
od
Friend
Chapter Twelve - The =
Giant
Porcupine
Chapter Thirteen - Sc=
raps and
the Scarecrow
Chapter Fourteen - Oj=
o Breaks
the Law
Chapter Fifteen - Ozm=
a's
Prisoner
Chapter Sixteen - Pri=
ncess
Dorothy
Chapter Seventeen - O=
zma and
Her Friends
Chapter Eighteen - Oj=
o is
Forgiven
Chapter Nineteen - Tr=
ouble
with the Tottenhots
Chapter Twenty - The =
Captive
Yoop
Chapter Twenty-One - =
Hip
Hopper the Champion
Chapter Twenty-Two - =
The
Joking Horners
Chapter Twenty-Three =
- Peace
Is Declared
Chapter Twenty-Four -=
Ojo
Finds the Dark Well
Chapter Twenty-Five -=
They
Bribe the Lazy Quadling
Chapter Twenty-Six - =
The
Trick River
Chapter Twenty-Seven =
- The
Tin Woodman Objects
Chapter Twenty-Eight =
- The
Wonderful Wizard of Oz
Ojo and Unc Nunki=
e
"Where's the butter, Unc
Nunkie?" asked Ojo.
Unc looked out of=
the
window and stroked his long beard. Then he turned to the Munchkin boy and s=
hook
his head.
"Isn't,"
said he.
"Isn't any
butter? That's too bad, Unc. Where's the jam then?" inquired Ojo, stan=
ding
on a stool so he could look through all the shelves of the cupboard. But Unc
Nunkie shook his head again.
"Gone,"=
he
said.
"No jam, eit=
her?
And no cake--no jelly--no apples--nothing but bread?"
"All," =
said
Unc, again stroking his beard as he gazed from the window.
The little boy
brought the stool and sat beside his uncle, munching the dry bread slowly a=
nd
seeming in deep thought.
"Nothing gro=
ws
in our yard but the bread tree," he mused, "and there are only two
more loaves on that tree; and they're not ripe yet. Tell me, Unc; why are w=
e so
poor?"
The old Munchkin
turned and looked at Ojo. He had kindly eyes, but he hadn't smiled or laugh=
ed
in so long that the boy had forgotten that Unc Nunkie could look any other =
way
than solemn. And Unc never spoke any more words than he was obliged to, so =
his
little nephew, who lived alone with him, had learned to understand a great =
deal
from one word.
"Why are we =
so
poor, Unc?" repeated the boy.
"Not," =
said
the old Munchkin.
"I think we
are," declared Ojo. "What have we got?"
"House,"
said Unc Nunkie.
"I know; but
everyone in the Land of Oz has a place to live. What else, Unc?"
"Bread."=
;
"I'm eating =
the
last loaf that's ripe. There; I've put aside your share, Unc. It's on the
table, so you can eat it when you get hungry. But when that is gone, what s=
hall
we eat, Unc?"
The old man shift=
ed
in his chair but merely shook his head.
"Of
course," said Ojo, who was obliged to talk because his uncle would not,
"no one starves in the Land of Oz, either. There is plenty for everyon=
e,
you know; only, if it isn't just where you happen to be, you must go where =
it
is."
The aged Munchkin
wriggled again and stared at his small nephew as if disturbed by his argume=
nt.
"By to-morrow
morning," the boy went on, "we must go where there is something to
eat, or we shall grow very hungry and become very unhappy."
"Where?"
asked Unc.
"Where shall=
we
go? I don't know, I'm sure," replied Ojo. "But you must know, Unc.
You must have traveled, in your time, because you're so old. I don't rememb=
er
it, because ever since I could remember anything we've lived right here in =
this
lonesome, round house, with a little garden back of it and the thick woods =
all
around. All I've ever seen of the great Land of Oz, Unc dear, is the view of
that mountain over at the south, where they say the Hammerheads live--who w=
on't
let anybody go by them--and that mountain at the north, where they say nobo=
dy
lives."
"One,"
declared Unc, correcting him.
"Oh, yes; one
family lives there, I've heard. That's the Crooked Magician, who is named D=
r.
Pipt, and his wife Margolotte. One year you told me about them; I think it =
took
you a whole year, Unc, to say as much as I've just said about the Crooked
Magician and his wife. They live high up on the mountain, and the good Munc=
hkin
Country, where the fruits and flowers grow, is just the other side. It's fu=
nny
you and I should live here all alone, in the middle of the forest, isn't
it?"
"Yes," =
said
Unc.
"Then let's =
go
away and visit the Munchkin Country and its jolly, good-natured people. I'd
love to get a sight of something besides woods, Unc Nunkie."
"Too
little," said Unc.
"Why, I'm no=
t so
little as I used to be," answered the boy earnestly. "I think I c=
an
walk as far and as fast through the woods as you can, Unc. And now that not=
hing
grows in our back yard that is good to eat, we must go where there is
food."
Unc Nunkie made no
reply for a time. Then he shut down the window and turned his chair to face=
the
room, for the sun was sinking behind the tree-tops and it was growing cool.=
By and by Ojo lig=
hted
the fire and the logs blazed freely in the broad fireplace. The two sat in =
the
firelight a long time--the old, white-bearded Munchkin and the little boy. =
Both
were thinking. When it grew quite dark outside, Ojo said:
"Eat your br=
ead,
Unc, and then we will go to bed."
But Unc Nunkie did
not eat the bread; neither did he go directly to bed. Long after his little
nephew was sound asleep in the corner of the room the old man sat by the fi=
re,
thinking.
Just at dawn next morning Unc Nunkie laid his hand tenderly on Ojo's head and awakened him. <= o:p>
"Come,"=
he
said.
Ojo dressed. He w=
ore
blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with gold buckles, a blue ruffled waist
and a jacket of bright blue braided with gold. His shoes were of blue leath=
er
and turned up at the toes, which were pointed. His hat had a peaked crown a=
nd a
flat brim, and around the brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled =
when
he moved. This was the native costume of those who inhabited the Munchkin
Country of the Land of Oz, so Unc Nunkie's dress was much like that of his =
nephew.
Instead of shoes, the old man wore boots with turnover tops and his blue co=
at
had wide cuffs of gold braid.
The boy noticed t=
hat
his uncle had not eaten the bread, and supposed the old man had not been
hungry. Ojo was hungry, though; so he divided the piece of bread upon the t=
able
and ate his half for breakfast, washing it down with fresh, cool water from=
the
brook. Unc put the other piece of bread in his jacket pocket, after which he
again said, as he walked out through the doorway: "Come."
Ojo was well plea=
sed.
He was dreadfully tired of living all alone in the woods and wanted to trav=
el
and see people. For a long time he had wished to explore the beautiful Land=
of
Oz in which they lived. When they were outside, Unc simply latched the door=
and
started up the path. No one would disturb their little house, even if anyone
came so far into the thick forest while they were gone.
At the foot of the
mountain that separated the Country of the Munchkins from the Country of the
Gillikins, the path divided. One way led to the left and the other to the
right--straight up the mountain. Unc Nunkie took this right-hand path and O=
jo
followed without asking why. He knew it would take them to the house of the
Crooked Magician, whom he had never seen but who was their nearest neighbor=
.
All the morning t=
hey
trudged up the mountain path and at noon Unc and Ojo sat on a fallen tree-t=
runk
and ate the last of the bread which the old Munchkin had placed in his pock=
et.
Then they started on again and two hours later came in sight of the house of
Dr. Pipt.
It was a big hous=
e,
round, as were all the Munchkin houses, and painted blue, which is the
distinctive color of the Munchkin Country of Oz. There was a pretty garden
around the house, where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance and in
one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots and blue lettuce, all of
which were delicious to eat. In Dr. Pipt's garden grew bun-trees, cake-tree=
s,
cream-puff bushes, blue buttercups which yielded excellent blue butter and a
row of chocolate-caramel plants. Paths of blue gravel divided the vegetable=
and
flower beds and a wider path led up to the front door. The place was in a
clearing on the mountain, but a little way off was the grim forest, which
completely surrounded it.
Unc knocked at the
door of the house and a chubby, pleasant-faced woman, dressed all in blue,
opened it and greeted the visitors with a smile.
"Ah," s=
aid
Ojo; "you must be Dame Margolotte, the good wife of Dr. Pipt."
"I am, my de=
ar,
and all strangers are welcome to my home."
"May we see =
the
famous Magician, Madam?"
"He is very =
busy
just now," she said, shaking her head doubtfully. "But come in and
let me give you something to eat, for you must have traveled far in order to
get our lonely place."
"We have,&qu=
ot;
replied Ojo, as he and Unc entered the house. "We have come from a far
lonelier place than this."
"A lonelier
place! And in the Munchkin Country?" she exclaimed. "Then it must=
be
somewhere in the Blue Forest."
"It is, good
Dame Margolotte."
"Dear me!&qu=
ot;
she said, looking at the man, "you must be Unc Nunkie, known as the Si=
lent
One." Then she looked at the boy. "And you must be Ojo the
Unlucky," she added.
"Yes," =
said
Unc.
"I never kne=
w I
was called the Unlucky," said Ojo, soberly; "but it is really a g=
ood
name for me."
"Well,"
remarked the woman, as she bustled around the room and set the table and
brought food from the cupboard, "you were unlucky to live all alone in
that dismal forest, which is much worse than the forest around here; but
perhaps your luck will change, now you are away from it. If, during your
travels, you can manage to lose that 'Un' at the beginning of your name
'Unlucky,' you will then become Ojo the Lucky, which will be a great
improvement."
"How can I l=
ose
that 'Un,' Dame Margolotte?"
"I do not kn=
ow
how, but you must keep the matter in mind and perhaps the chance will come =
to
you," she replied.
Ojo had never eat=
en
such a fine meal in all his life. There was a savory stew, smoking hot, a d=
ish
of blue peas, a bowl of sweet milk of a delicate blue tint and a blue puddi=
ng
with blue plums in it. When the visitors had eaten heartily of this fare the
woman said to them:
"Do you wish=
to
see Dr. Pipt on business or for pleasure?"
Unc shook his hea=
d.
"We are
traveling," replied Ojo, "and we stopped at your house just to re=
st
and refresh ourselves. I do not think Unc Nunkie cares very much to see the
famous Crooked Magician; but for my part I am curious to look at such a gre=
at
man."
The woman seemed
thoughtful.
"I remember =
that
Unc Nunkie and my husband used to be friends, many years ago," she sai=
d,
"so perhaps they will be glad to meet again. The Magician is very busy=
, as
I said, but if you will promise not to disturb him you may come into his
workshop and watch him prepare a wonderful charm."
"Thank
you," replied the boy, much pleased. "I would like to do that.&qu=
ot;
She led the way t=
o a
great domed hall at the back of the house, which was the Magician's worksho=
p.
There was a row of windows extending nearly around the sides of the circular
room, which rendered the place very light, and there was a back door in
addition to the one leading to the front part of the house. Before the row =
of
windows a broad seat was built and there were some chairs and benches in the
room besides. At one end stood a great fireplace, in which a blue log was
blazing with a blue flame, and over the fire hung four kettles in a row, all
bubbling and steaming at a great rate. The Magician was stirring all four o=
f these
kettles at the same time, two with his hands and two with his feet, to the
latter, wooden ladles being strapped, for this man was so very crooked that=
his
legs were as handy as his arms.
Unc Nunkie came f=
orward
to greet his old friend, but not being able to shake either his hands or his
feet, which were all occupied in stirring, he patted the Magician's bald he=
ad
and asked: "What?"
"Ah, it's the
Silent One," remarked Dr. Pipt, without looking up, "and he wants=
to
know what I'm making. Well, when it is quite finished this compound will be=
the
wonderful Powder of Life, which no one knows how to make but myself. Whenev=
er
it is sprinkled on anything, that thing will at once come to life, no matter
what it is. It takes me several years to make this magic Powder, but at this
moment I am pleased to say it is nearly done. You see, I am making it for my
good wife Margolotte, who wants to use some of it for a purpose of her own.=
Sit
down and make yourself comfortable, Unc Nunkie, and after I've finished my =
task
I will talk to you."
"You must
know," said Margolotte, when they were all seated together on the broad
window-seat, "that my husband foolishly gave away all the Powder of Li=
fe
he first made to old Mombi the Witch, who used to live in the Country of the
Gillikins, to the north of here. Mombi gave to Dr. Pipt a Powder of Perpetu=
al
Youth in exchange for his Powder of Life, but she cheated him wickedly, for=
the
Powder of Youth was no good and could work no magic at all."
"Perhaps the
Powder of Life couldn't either," said Ojo.
"Yes; it is
perfection," she declared. "The first lot we tested on our Glass =
Cat,
which not only began to live but has lived ever since. She's somewhere arou=
nd
the house now."
"A Glass
Cat!" exclaimed Ojo, astonished.
"Yes; she ma=
kes
a very pleasant companion, but admires herself a little more than is consid=
ered
modest, and she positively refuses to catch mice," explained Margolott=
e.
"My husband made the cat some pink brains, but they proved to be too
high-bred and particular for a cat, so she thinks it is undignified in her =
to
catch mice. Also she has a pretty blood-red heart, but it is made of stone-=
-a
ruby, I think--and so is rather hard and unfeeling. I think the next Glass =
Cat
the Magician makes will have neither brains nor heart, for then it will not
object to catching mice and may prove of some use to us."
"What did old
Mombi the Witch do with the Powder of Life your husband gave her?" ask=
ed
the boy.
"She brought
Jack Pumpkinhead to life, for one thing," was the reply. "I suppo=
se
you've heard of Jack Pumpkinhead. He is now living near the Emerald City an=
d is
a great favorite with the Princess Ozma, who rules all the Land of Oz."=
;
"No; I've ne=
ver
heard of him," remarked Ojo. "I'm afraid I don't know much about =
the
Land of Oz. You see, I've lived all my life with Unc Nunkie, the Silent One,
and there was no one to tell me anything."
"That is one
reason you are Ojo the Unlucky," said the woman, in a sympathetic tone.
"The more one knows, the luckier he is, for knowledge is the greatest =
gift
in life."
"But tell me,
please, what you intend to do with this new lot of the Powder of Life, which
Dr. Pipt is making. He said his wife wanted it for some especial purpose.&q=
uot;
"So I do,&qu=
ot;
she answered. "I want it to bring my Patchwork Girl to life."
"Oh! A Patch=
work
Girl? What is that?" Ojo asked, for this seemed even more strange and
unusual than a Glass Cat.
"I think I m=
ust
show you my Patchwork Girl," said Margolotte, laughing at the boy's
astonishment, "for she is rather difficult to explain. But first I will
tell you that for many years I have longed for a servant to help me with the
housework and to cook the meals and wash the dishes. No servant will come h=
ere
because the place is so lonely and out-of-the-way, so my clever husband, the
Crooked Magician, proposed that I make a girl out of some sort of material =
and
he would make her live by sprinkling over her the Powder of Life. This seem=
ed
an excellent suggestion and at once Dr. Pipt set to work to make a new batc=
h of
his magic powder. He has been at it a long, long while, and so I have had
plenty of time to make the girl. Yet that task was not so easy as you may
suppose. At first I couldn't think what to make her of, but finally in
searching through a chest I came across an old patchwork quilt, which my
grandmother once made when she was young."
"What is a
patchwork quilt?" asked Ojo.
"A bed-quilt
made of patches of different kinds and colors of cloth, all neatly sewed
together. The patches are of all shapes and sizes, so a patchwork quilt is a
very pretty and gorgeous thing to look at. Sometimes it is called a
'crazy-quilt,' because the patches and colors are so mixed up. We never have
used my grandmother's many-colored patchwork quilt, handsome as it is, for =
we
Munchkins do not care for any color other than blue, so it has been packed =
away
in the chest for about a hundred years. When I found it, I said to myself t=
hat
it would do nicely for my servant girl, for when she was brought to life sh=
e would
not be proud nor haughty, as the Glass Cat is, for such a dreadful mixture =
of
colors would discourage her from trying to be as dignified as the blue
Munchkins are."
"Is blue the
only respectable color, then?" inquired Ojo.
"Yes, for a
Munchkin. All our country is blue, you know. But in other parts of Oz the
people favor different colors. At the Emerald City, where our Princess Ozma
lives, green is the popular color. But all Munchkins prefer blue to anything
else and when my housework girl is brought to life she will find herself to=
be
of so many unpopular colors that she'll never dare be rebellious or impuden=
t,
as servants are sometimes liable to be when they are made the same way their
mistresses are."
Unc Nunkie nodded
approval.
"Good
i-dea," he said; and that was a long speech for Unc Nunkie because it =
was
two words.
"So I cut up=
the
quilt," continued Margolotte, "and made from it a very well-shaped
girl, which I stuffed with cotton-wadding. I will show you what a good job I
did," and she went to a tall cupboard and threw open the doors.
Then back she cam=
e,
lugging in her arms the Patchwork Girl, which she set upon the bench and
propped up so that the figure would not tumble over.
Ojo examined this
curious contrivance with wonder. The Patchwork Girl was taller than he, when
she stood upright, and her body was plump and rounded because it had been so
neatly stuffed with cotton. Margolotte had first made the girl's form from =
the
patchwork quilt and then she had dressed it with a patchwork skirt and an a=
pron
with pockets in it--using the same gay material throughout. Upon the feet s=
he
had sewn a pair of red leather shoes with pointed toes. All the fingers and=
thumbs
of the girl's hands had been carefully formed and stuffed and stitched at t=
he
edges, with gold plates at the ends to serve as finger-nails.
"She will ha=
ve
to work, when she comes to life," said Margolotte.
The head of the
Patchwork Girl was the most curious part of her. While she waited for her
husband to finish making his Powder of Life the woman had found ample time =
to
complete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a good serva=
nt's
head must be properly constructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down=
on
her neck in several neat braids. Her eyes were two silver suspender-buttons=
cut
from a pair of the Magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on with bla=
ck
threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. Margolotte had puzzled over t=
he
ears for some time, for these were important if the servant was to hear
distinctly, but finally she had made them out of thin plates of gold and
attached them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in the
metal. Gold is the most common metal in the Land of Oz and is used for many
purposes because it is soft and pliable.
The woman had cut=
a
slit for the Patchwork Girl's mouth and sewn two rows of white pearls in it=
for
teeth, using a strip of scarlet plush for a tongue. This mouth Ojo consider=
ed
very artistic and lifelike, and Margolotte was pleased when the boy praised=
it.
There were almost too many patches on the face of the girl for her to be
considered strictly beautiful, for one cheek was yellow and the other red, =
her
chin blue, her forehead purple and the center, where her nose had been form=
ed
and padded, a bright yellow.
"You ought to
have had her face all pink," suggested the boy.
"I suppose s=
o;
but I had no pink cloth," replied the woman. "Still, I cannot see=
as
it matters much, for I wish my Patchwork Girl to be useful rather than
ornamental. If I get tired looking at her patched face I can whitewash
it."
"Has she any
brains?" asked Ojo.
"No; I forgot
all about the brains!" exclaimed the woman. "I am glad you remind=
ed
me of them, for it is not too late to supply them, by any means. Until she =
is
brought to life I can do anything I please with this girl. But I must be
careful not to give her too much brains, and those she has must be such as =
are
fitted to the station she is to occupy in life. In other words, her brains
mustn't be very good."
"Wrong,"
said Unc Nunkie.
"No; I am su=
re I
am right about that," returned the woman.
"He means,&q=
uot;
explained Ojo, "that unless your servant has good brains she won't know
how to obey you properly, nor do the things you ask her to do."
"Well, that =
may
be true," agreed Margolotte; "but, on the contrary, a servant with
too much brains is sure to become independent and high-and-mighty and feel
above her work. This is a very delicate task, as I said, and I must take ca=
re
to give the girl just the right quantity of the right sort of brains. I want
her to know just enough, but not too much."
With this she wen=
t to
another cupboard which was filled with shelves. All the shelves were lined =
with
blue glass bottles, neatly labeled by the Magician to show what they contai=
ned.
One whole shelf was marked: "Brain Furniture," and the bottles on
this shelf were labeled as follows: "Obedience,"
"Cleverness," "Judgment," "Courage,"
"Ingenuity," "Amiability," "Learning,"
"Truth," "Poesy," "Self Reliance."
"Let me see,=
"
said Margolotte; "of those qualities she must have 'Obedience' first of
all," and she took down the bottle bearing that label and poured from =
it
upon a dish several grains of the contents. "'Amiability' is also good=
and
'Truth.'" She poured into the dish a quantity from each of these bottl=
es.
"I think that will do," she continued, "for the other qualit=
ies
are not needed in a servant."
Unc Nunkie, who w=
ith
Ojo stood beside her, touched the bottle marked "Cleverness."
"Little,&quo=
t;
said he.
"A little 'C=
leverness'?
Well, perhaps you are right, sir," said she, and was about to take down
the bottle when the Crooked Magician suddenly called to her excitedly from =
the
fireplace.
"Quick,
Margolotte! Come and help me."
She ran to her
husband's side at once and helped him lift the four kettles from the fire.
Their contents had all boiled away, leaving in the bottom of each kettle a =
few
grains of fine white powder. Very carefully the Magician removed this powde=
r,
placing it all together in a golden dish, where he mixed it with a golden
spoon. When the mixture was complete there was scarcely a handful, all told=
.
"That,"
said Dr. Pipt, in a pleased and triumphant tone, "is the wonderful Pow=
der
of Life, which I alone in the world know how to make. It has taken me nearly
six years to prepare these precious grains of dust, but the little heap on =
that
dish is worth the price of a kingdom and many a king would give all he has =
to
possess it. When it has become cooled I will place it in a small bottle; but
meantime I must watch it carefully, lest a gust of wind blow it away or sca=
tter
it."
Unc Nunkie,
Margolotte and the Magician all stood looking at the marvelous Powder, but =
Ojo
was more interested just then in the Patchwork Girl's brains. Thinking it b=
oth
unfair and unkind to deprive her of any good qualities that were handy, the=
boy
took down every bottle on the shelf and poured some of the contents in
Margolotte's dish. No one saw him do this, for all were looking at the Powd=
er
of Life; but soon the woman remembered what she had been doing, and came ba=
ck
to the cupboard.
"Let's
see," she remarked; "I was about to give my girl a little 'Clever=
ness,'
which is the Doctor's substitute for 'Intelligence'--a quality he has not y=
et
learned how to manufacture." Taking down the bottle of
"Cleverness" she added some of the powder to the heap on the dish.
Ojo became a bit uneasy at this, for he had already put quite a lot of the
"Cleverness" powder in the dish; but he dared not interfere and s=
o he
comforted himself with the thought that one cannot have too much cleverness=
.
Margolotte now
carried the dish of brains to the bench. Ripping the seam of the patch on t=
he
girl's forehead, she placed the powder within the head and then sewed up the
seam as neatly and securely as before.
"My girl is =
all
ready for your Powder of Life, my dear," she said to her husband. But =
the
Magician replied:
"This powder
must not be used before to-morrow morning; but I think it is now cool enoug=
h to
be bottled."
He selected a sma=
ll
gold bottle with a pepper-box top, so that the powder might be sprinkled on=
any
object through the small holes. Very carefully he placed the Powder of Life=
in
the gold bottle and then locked it up in a drawer of his cabinet.
"At last,&qu=
ot;
said he, rubbing his hands together gleefully, "I have ample leisure f=
or a
good talk with my old friend Unc Nunkie. So let us sit down cosily and enjoy
ourselves. After stirring those four kettles for six years I am glad to hav=
e a
little rest."
"You will ha=
ve
to do most of the talking," said Ojo, "for Unc is called the Sile=
nt
One and uses few words."
"I know; but
that renders your uncle a most agreeable companion and gossip," declar=
ed
Dr. Pipt. "Most people talk too much, so it is a relief to find one who
talks too little."
Ojo looked at the
Magician with much awe and curiosity.
"Don't you f=
ind
it very annoying to be so crooked?" he asked.
"No; I am qu=
ite
proud of my person," was the reply. "I suppose I am the only Croo=
ked
Magician in all the world. Some others are accused of being crooked, but I =
am
the only genuine."
He was really very
crooked and Ojo wondered how he managed to do so many things with such a
twisted body. When he sat down upon a crooked chair that had been made to f=
it
him, one knee was under his chin and the other near the small of his back; =
but
he was a cheerful man and his face bore a pleasant and agreeable expression=
.
"I am not
allowed to perform magic, except for my own amusement," he told his
visitors, as he lighted a pipe with a crooked stem and began to smoke.
"Too many people were working magic in the Land of Oz, and so our love=
ly
Princess Ozma put a stop to it. I think she was quite right. There were sev=
eral
wicked Witches who caused a lot of trouble; but now they are all out of
business and only the great Sorceress, Glinda the Good, is permitted to
practice her arts, which never harm anybody. The Wizard of Oz, who used to =
be a
humbug and knew no magic at all, has been taking lessons of Glinda, and I'm
told he is getting to be a pretty good Wizard; but he is merely the assista=
nt
of the great Sorceress. I've the right to make a servant girl for my wife, =
you
know, or a Glass Cat to catch our mice--which she refuses to do--but I am f=
orbidden
to work magic for others, or to use it as a profession."
"Magic must =
be a
very interesting study," said Ojo.
"It truly
is," asserted the Magician. "In my time I've performed some magic=
al
feats that were worthy of the skill of Glinda the Good. For instance, there=
's
the Powder of Life, and my Liquid of Petrifaction, which is contained in th=
at
bottle on the shelf yonder--over the window."
"What does t=
he
Liquid of Petrifaction do?" inquired the boy.
"Turns
everything it touches to solid marble. It's an invention of my own, and I f=
ind
it very useful. Once two of those dreadful Kalidahs, with bodies like bears=
and
heads like tigers, came here from the forest to attack us; but I sprinkled =
some
of that Liquid on them and instantly they turned to marble. I now use them =
as
ornamental statuary in my garden. This table looks to you like wood, and on=
ce
it really was wood; but I sprinkled a few drops of the Liquid of Petrifacti=
on
on it and now it is marble. It will never break nor wear out."
"Fine!"
said Unc Nunkie, wagging his head and stroking his long gray beard.
"Dear me; wh=
at a
chatterbox you're getting to be, Unc," remarked the Magician, who was
pleased with the compliment. But just then there came a scratching at the b=
ack
door and a shrill voice cried:
"Let me in!
Hurry up, can't you? Let me in!"
Margolotte got up=
and
went to the door.
"Ask like a =
good
cat, then," she said.
"Mee-ee-ow-w=
-w!
There; does that suit your royal highness?" asked the voice, in scornf=
ul
accents.
"Yes; that's
proper cat talk," declared the woman, and opened the door.
At once a cat entered, came to the center of the room and stopped short at the sight of strangers. Ojo and Unc Nunkie both stared at it with wide open eyes, for su= rely no such curious creature had ever existed before--even in the Land of Oz. <= o:p>
The cat was made =
of
glass, so clear and transparent that you could see through it as easily as
through a window. In the top of its head, however, was a mass of delicate p=
ink
balls which looked like jewels, and it had a heart made of a blood-red ruby.
The eyes were two large emeralds, but aside from these colors all the rest =
of
the animal was clear glass, and it had a spun-glass tail that was really
beautiful.
"Well, Doc P=
ipt,
do you mean to introduce us, or not?" demanded the cat, in a tone of
annoyance. "Seems to me you are forgetting your manners."
"Excuse
me," returned the Magician. "This is Unc Nunkie, the descendant of
the former kings of the Munchkins, before this country became a part of the
Land of Oz."
"He needs a
haircut," observed the cat, washing its face.
"True,"
replied Unc, with a low chuckle of amusement.
"But he has
lived alone in the heart of the forest for many years," the Magician
explained; "and, although that is a barbarous country, there are no
barbers there."
"Who is the
dwarf?" asked the cat.
"That is not=
a
dwarf, but a boy," answered the Magician. "You have never seen a =
boy
before. He is now small because he is young. With more years he will grow b=
ig
and become as tall as Unc Nunkie."
"Oh. Is that
magic?" the glass animal inquired.
"Yes; but it=
is
Nature's magic, which is more wonderful than any art known to man. For
instance, my magic made you, and made you live; and it was a poor job becau=
se
you are useless and a bother to me; but I can't make you grow. You will alw=
ays
be the same size--and the same saucy, inconsiderate Glass Cat, with pink br=
ains
and a hard ruby heart."
"No one can
regret more than I the fact that you made me," asserted the cat, crouc=
hing
upon the floor and slowly swaying its spun-glass tail from side to side.
"Your world is a very uninteresting place. I've wandered through your
gardens and in the forest until I'm tired of it all, and when I come into t=
he
house the conversation of your fat wife and of yourself bores me
dreadfully."
"That is bec=
ause
I gave you different brains from those we ourselves possess--and much too g=
ood
for a cat," returned Dr. Pipt.
"Can't you t=
ake
'em out, then, and replace 'em with pebbles, so that I won't feel above my
station in life?" asked the cat, pleadingly.
"Perhaps so.
I'll try it, after I've brought the Patchwork Girl to life," he said. =
The cat walked up=
to
the bench on which the Patchwork Girl reclined and looked at her attentivel=
y.
"Are you goi=
ng
to make that dreadful thing live?" she asked.
The Magician nodd=
ed.
"It is inten=
ded
to be my wife's servant maid," he said. "When she is alive she wi=
ll
do all our work and mind the house. But you are not to order her around,
Bungle, as you do us. You must treat the Patchwork Girl respectfully."=
"I won't. I
couldn't respect such a bundle of scraps under any circumstances."
"If you don'=
t,
there will be more scraps than you will like," cried Margolotte, angri=
ly.
"Why didn't =
you
make her pretty to look at?" asked the cat. "You made me pretty--=
very
pretty, indeed--and I love to watch my pink brains roll around when they're
working, and to see my precious red heart beat." She went to a long
mirror, as she said this, and stood before it, looking at herself with an a=
ir
of much pride. "But that poor patched thing will hate herself, when sh=
e's
once alive," continued the cat. "If I were you I'd use her for a =
mop,
and make another servant that is prettier."
"You have a
perverted taste," snapped Margolotte, much annoyed at this frank
criticism. "I think the Patchwork Girl is beautiful, considering what
she's made of. Even the rainbow hasn't as many colors, and you must admit t=
hat
the rainbow is a pretty thing."
The Glass Cat yaw=
ned
and stretched herself upon the floor.
"Have your o=
wn
way," she said. "I'm sorry for the Patchwork Girl, that's all.&qu=
ot;
Ojo and Unc Nunkie
slept that night in the Magician's house, and the boy was glad to stay beca=
use
he was anxious to see the Patchwork Girl brought to life. The Glass Cat was
also a wonderful creature to little Ojo, who had never seen or known anythi=
ng
of magic before, although he had lived in the Fairyland of Oz ever since he=
was
born. Back there in the woods nothing unusual ever happened. Unc Nunkie, who
might have been King of the Munchkins, had not his people united with all t=
he other
countries of Oz in acknowledging Ozma as their sole ruler, had retired into
this forgotten forest nook with his baby nephew and they had lived all alone
there. Only that the neglected garden had failed to grow food for them, they
would always have lived in the solitary Blue Forest; but now they had start=
ed
out to mingle with other people, and the first place they came to proved so
interesting that Ojo could scarcely sleep a wink all night.
Margolotte was an
excellent cook and gave them a fine breakfast. While they were all engaged =
in
eating, the good woman said:
"This is the
last meal I shall have to cook for some time, for right after breakfast Dr.
Pipt has promised to bring my new servant to life. I shall let her wash the
breakfast dishes and sweep and dust the house. What a relief it will be!&qu=
ot;
"It will,
indeed, relieve you of much drudgery," said the Magician. "By the
way, Margolotte, I thought I saw you getting some brains from the cupboard,
while I was busy with my kettles. What qualities have you given your new
servant?"
"Only those =
that
an humble servant requires," she answered. "I do not wish her to =
feel
above her station, as the Glass Cat does. That would make her discontented =
and
unhappy, for of course she must always be a servant."
Ojo was somewhat
disturbed as he listened to this, and the boy began to fear he had done wro=
ng
in adding all those different qualities of brains to the lot Margolotte had
prepared for the servant. But it was too late now for regret, since all the
brains were securely sewn up inside the Patchwork Girl's head. He might have
confessed what he had done and thus allowed Margolotte and her husband to
change the brains; but he was afraid of incurring their anger. He believed =
that
Unc had seen him add to the brains, and Unc had not said a word against it;=
but
then, Unc never did say anything unless it was absolutely necessary.
As soon as breakf=
ast
was over they all went into the Magician's big workshop, where the Glass Cat
was lying before the mirror and the Patchwork Girl lay limp and lifeless up=
on
the bench.
"Now, then," said Dr. Pipt, in a brisk tone, "we shall perform one of t= he greatest feats of magic possible to man, even in this marvelous Land of Oz.= In no other country could it be done at all. I think we ought to have a little music while the Patchwork Girl comes to life. It is pleasant to reflect that the first sounds her golden ears will hear will be delicious music." <= o:p>
As he spoke he we=
nt
to a phonograph, which screwed fast to a small table, and wound up the spri=
ng
of the instrument and adjusted the big gold horn.
"The music my
servant will usually hear," remarked Margolotte, "will be my orde=
rs
to do her work. But I see no harm in allowing her to listen to this unseen =
band
while she wakens to her first realization of life. My orders will beat the
band, afterward."
The phonograph was
now playing a stirring march tune and the Magician unlocked his cabinet and
took out the gold bottle containing the Powder of Life.
They all bent over
the bench on which the Patchwork Girl reclined. Unc Nunkie and Margolotte s=
tood
behind, near the windows, Ojo at one side and the Magician in front, where =
he
would have freedom to sprinkle the powder. The Glass Cat came near, too,
curious to watch the important scene.
"All
ready?" asked Dr. Pipt.
"All is
ready," answered his wife.
So the Magician
leaned over and shook from the bottle some grains of the wonderful Powder, =
and
they fell directly on the Patchwork Girl's head and arms.
"It will tak=
e a
few minutes for this powder to do its work," remarked the Magician,
sprinkling the body up and down with much care.
But suddenly the
Patchwork Girl threw up one arm, which knocked the bottle of powder from the
crooked man's hand and sent it flying across the room. Unc Nunkie and
Margolotte were so startled that they both leaped backward and bumped toget=
her,
and Unc's head joggled the shelf above them and upset the bottle containing=
the
Liquid of Petrifaction.
The Magician utte=
red
such a wild cry that Ojo jumped away and the Patchwork Girl sprang after him
and clasped her stuffed arms around him in terror. The Glass Cat snarled and
hid under the table, and so it was that when the powerful Liquid of
Petrifaction was spilled it fell only upon the wife of the Magician and the
uncle of Ojo. With these two the charm worked promptly. They stood motionle=
ss
and stiff as marble statues, in exactly the positions they were in when the
Liquid struck them.
Ojo pushed the
Patchwork Girl away and ran to Unc Nunkie, filled with a terrible fear for =
the
only friend and protector he had ever known. When he grasped Unc's hand it =
was
cold and hard. Even the long gray beard was solid marble. The Crooked Magic=
ian
was dancing around the room in a frenzy of despair, calling upon his wife to
forgive him, to speak to him, to come to life again!
The Patchwork Gir=
l,
quickly recovering from her fright, now came nearer and looked from one to
another of the people with deep interest. Then she looked at herself and
laughed. Noticing the mirror, she stood before it and examined her
extraordinary features with amazement--her button eyes, pearl bead teeth and
puffy nose. Then, addressing her reflection in the glass, she exclaimed:
"Whee, but there'=
s a
gaudy dame! Makes
a paint-box blush with shame. Razzle-dazzle, fi=
zzle-fazzle!
Howdy-do, M=
iss
What's-your-name?"
She bowed, and the reflection bowed=
. Then
she laughed again, long and merrily, and the Glass Cat crept out from under=
the
table and said:
"I don't bla=
me
you for laughing at yourself. Aren't you horrid?"
"Horrid?&quo=
t;
she replied. "Why, I'm thoroughly delightful. I'm an Original, if you
please, and therefore incomparable. Of all the comic, absurd, rare and amus=
ing
creatures the world contains, I must be the supreme freak. Who but poor
Margolotte could have managed to invent such an unreasonable being as I? But
I'm glad--I'm awfully glad!--that I'm just what I am, and nothing else.&quo=
t;
"Be quiet, w=
ill
you?" cried the frantic Magician; "be quiet and let me think! If I
don't think I shall go mad."
"Think
ahead," said the Patchwork Girl, seating herself in a chair. "Thi=
nk
all you want to. I don't mind."
"Gee! but I'm
tired playing that tune," called the phonograph, speaking through its =
horn
in a brazen, scratchy voice. "If you don't mind, Pipt, old boy, I'll c=
ut
it out and take a rest."
The Magician look=
ed
gloomily at the music-machine.
"What dreadf=
ul
luck!" he wailed, despondently. "The Powder of Life must have fal=
len
on the phonograph."
He went up to it =
and
found that the gold bottle that contained the precious powder had dropped u=
pon
the stand and scattered its life-giving grains over the machine. The phonog=
raph
was very much alive, and began dancing a jig with the legs of the table to
which it was attached, and this dance so annoyed Dr. Pipt that he kicked th=
e thing
into a corner and pushed a bench against it, to hold it quiet.
"You were bad
enough before," said the Magician, resentfully; "but a live
phonograph is enough to drive every sane person in the Land of Oz stark
crazy."
"No insults,
please," answered the phonograph in a surly tone. "You did it, my
boy; don't blame me."
"You've bung=
led
everything, Dr. Pipt," added the Glass Cat, contemptuously.
"Except
me," said the Patchwork Girl, jumping up to whirl merrily around the r=
oom.
"I think,&qu=
ot;
said Ojo, almost ready to cry through grief over Unc Nunkie's sad fate,
"it must all be my fault, in some way. I'm called Ojo the Unlucky, you
know."
"That's
nonsense, kiddie," retorted the Patchwork Girl cheerfully. "No one
can be unlucky who has the intelligence to direct his own actions. The unlu=
cky
ones are those who beg for a chance to think, like poor Dr. Pipt here. What=
's
the row about, anyway, Mr. Magic-maker?"
"The Liquid =
of
Petrifaction has accidentally fallen upon my dear wife and Unc Nunkie and
turned them into marble," he sadly replied.
"Well, why d=
on't
you sprinkle some of that powder on them and bring them to life again?"
asked the Patchwork Girl.
The Magician gave=
a
jump.
"Why, I hadn=
't
thought of that!" he joyfully cried, and grabbed up the golden bottle,
with which he ran to Margolotte.
Said the Patchwork
Girl:
"Higgledy, piggle=
dy,
dee-- What =
fools
magicians be! His
head's so thick He can't think qu=
ick, So he takes advic=
e from
me."
Standing upon the bench, for he was=
so
crooked he could not reach the top of his wife's head in any other way, Dr.
Pipt began shaking the bottle. But not a grain of powder came out. He pulled
off the cover, glanced within, and then threw the bottle from him with a wa=
il
of despair.
"Gone--gone!
Every bit gone," he cried. "Wasted on that miserable phonograph w=
hen
it might have saved my dear wife!"
Then the Magician
bowed his head on his crooked arms and began to cry.
Ojo was sorry for
him. He went up to the sorrowful man and said softly:
"You can make
more Powder of Life, Dr. Pipt."
"Yes; but it
will take me six years--six long, weary years of stirring four kettles with
both feet and both hands," was the agonized reply. "Six years! wh=
ile
poor Margolotte stands watching me as a marble image."
"Can't anyth=
ing
else be done?" asked the Patchwork Girl.
The Magician shook
his head. Then he seemed to remember something and looked up.
"There is one
other compound that would destroy the magic spell of the Liquid of Petrifac=
tion
and restore my wife and Unc Nunkie to life," said he. "It may be =
hard
to find the things I need to make this magic compound, but if they were fou=
nd I
could do in an instant what will otherwise take six long, weary years of
stirring kettles with both hands and both feet."
"All right; =
let's
find the things, then," suggested the Patchwork Girl. "That seems=
a
lot more sensible than those stirring times with the kettles."
"That's the
idea, Scraps," said the Glass Cat, approvingly. "I'm glad to find=
you
have decent brains. Mine are exceptionally good. You can see 'em work; they=
're
pink."
"Scraps?&quo= t; repeated the girl. "Did you call me 'Scraps'? Is that my name?" <= o:p>
"I--I believ=
e my
poor wife had intended to name you 'Angeline,'" said the Magician.
"But I like
'Scraps' best," she replied with a laugh. "It fits me better, for=
my
patchwork is all scraps, and nothing else. Thank you for naming me, Miss Ca=
t.
Have you any name of your own?"
"I have a
foolish name that Margolotte once gave me, but which is quite undignified f=
or
one of my importance," answered the cat. "She called me 'Bungle.'=
"
"Yes,"
sighed the Magician; "you were a sad bungle, taken all in all. I was w=
rong
to make you as I did, for a more useless, conceited and brittle thing never
before existed."
"I'm not so
brittle as you think," retorted the cat. "I've been alive a good =
many
years, for Dr. Pipt experimented on me with the first magic Powder of Life =
he
ever made, and so far I've never broken or cracked or chipped any part of
me."
"You seem to
have a chip on your shoulder," laughed the Patchwork Girl, and the cat
went to the mirror to see.
"Tell me,&qu=
ot;
pleaded Ojo, speaking to the Crooked Magician, "what must we find to m=
ake
the compound that will save Unc Nunkie?"
"First,"
was the reply, "I must have a six-leaved clover. That can only be foun=
d in
the green country around the Emerald City, and six-leaved clovers are very
scarce, even there."
"I'll find it
for you," promised Ojo.
"The next
thing," continued the Magician, "is the left wing of a yellow but=
terfly.
That color can only be found in the yellow country of the Winkies, West of =
the
Emerald City."
"I'll find
it," declared Ojo. "Is that all?"
"Oh, no; I'll
get my Book of Recipes and see what comes next."
Saying this, the
Magician unlocked a drawer of his cabinet and drew out a small book covered
with blue leather. Looking through the pages he found the recipe he wanted =
and
said: "I must have a gill of water from a dark well."
"What kind o=
f a
well is that, sir?" asked the boy.
"One where t=
he
light of day never penetrates. The water must be put in a gold bottle and
brought to me without any light ever reaching it."
"I'll get the
water from the dark well," said Ojo.
"Then I must
have three hairs from the tip of a Woozy's tail, and a drop of oil from a l=
ive
man's body."
Ojo looked grave =
at
this.
"What is a
Woozy, please?" he inquired.
"Some sort o=
f an
animal. I've never seen one, so I can't describe it," replied the
Magician.
"If I can fi=
nd a
Woozy, I'll get the hairs from its tail," said Ojo. "But is there
ever any oil in a man's body?"
The Magician look=
ed
in the book again, to make sure.
"That's what=
the
recipe calls for," he replied, "and of course we must get everyth=
ing
that is called for, or the charm won't work. The book doesn't say 'blood'; =
it
says 'oil,' and there must be oil somewhere in a live man's body or the book
wouldn't ask for it."
"All
right," returned Ojo, trying not to feel discouraged; "I'll try t=
o find
it."
The Magician look=
ed
at the little Munchkin boy in a doubtful way and said:
"All this wi=
ll
mean a long journey for you; perhaps several long journeys; for you must se=
arch
through several of the different countries of Oz in order to get the things=
I
need."
"I know it, =
sir;
but I must do my best to save Unc Nunkie."
"And also my
poor wife Margolotte. If you save one you will save the other, for both sta=
nd
there together and the same compound will restore them both to life. Do the
best you can, Ojo, and while you are gone I shall begin the six years job of
making a new batch of the Powder of Life. Then, if you should unluckily fai=
l to
secure any one of the things needed, I will have lost no time. But if you
succeed you must return here as quickly as you can, and that will save me m=
uch
tiresome stirring of four kettles with both feet and both hands."
"I will star=
t on
my journey at once, sir," said the boy.
"And I will =
go
with you," declared the Patchwork Girl.
"No, no!&quo=
t;
exclaimed the Magician. "You have no right to leave this house. You are
only a servant and have not been discharged."
Scraps, who had b=
een
dancing up and down the room, stopped and looked at him.
"What is a
servant?" she asked.
"One who ser=
ves.
A--a sort of slave," he explained.
"Very
well," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'm going to serve you and your =
wife
by helping Ojo find the things you need. You need a lot, you know, such as =
are
not easily found."
"It is
true," sighed Dr. Pipt. "I am well aware that Ojo has undertaken a
serious task."
Scraps laughed, a=
nd
resuming her dance she said:
"Here's a job for=
a boy
of brains: =
A drop
of oil from a live man's veins; A six-leaved clov=
er;
three nice hairs From a Woozy's ta=
il,
the book declares Are needed for the
magic spell, And
water from a pitch-dark well. The yellow wing o=
f a
butterfly T=
o find
must Ojo also try, And if he gets th=
em
without harm, Doc
Pipt will make the magic charm; But if he doesn't=
get
'em, Unc Wi=
ll
always stand a marble chunk."
The Magician looked at her thoughtf=
ully.
"Poor Margol=
otte
must have given you some of the quality of poesy, by mistake," he said.
"And, if that is true, I didn't make a very good article when I prepar=
ed
it, or else you got an overdose or an underdose. However, I believe I shall=
let
you go with Ojo, for my poor wife will not need your services until she is
restored to life. Also I think you may be able to help the boy, for your he=
ad
seems to contain some thoughts I did not expect to find in it. But be very
careful of yourself, for you're a souvenir of my dear Margolotte. Try not to
get ripped, or your stuffing may fall out. One of your eyes seems loose, and
you may have to sew it on tighter. If you talk too much you'll wear out your
scarlet plush tongue, which ought to have been hemmed on the edges. And
remember you belong to me and must return here as soon as your mission is
accomplished."
"I'm going w=
ith
Scraps and Ojo," announced the Glass Cat.
"You
can't," said the Magician.
"Why not?&qu=
ot;
"You'd get
broken in no time, and you couldn't be a bit of use to the boy and the
Patchwork Girl."
"I beg to di=
ffer
with you," returned the cat, in a haughty tone. "Three heads are
better than two, and my pink brains are beautiful. You can see 'em work.&qu=
ot;
"Well, go
along," said the Magician, irritably. "You're only an annoyance,
anyhow, and I'm glad to get rid of you."
"Thank you f=
or
nothing, then," answered the cat, stiffly.
Dr. Pipt took a s=
mall
basket from a cupboard and packed several things in it. Then he handed it to
Ojo.
"Here is some
food and a bundle of charms," he said. "It is all I can give you,=
but
I am sure you will find friends on your journey who will assist you in your
search. Take care of the Patchwork Girl and bring her safely back, for she
ought to prove useful to my wife. As for the Glass Cat--properly named
Bungle--if she bothers you I now give you my permission to break her in two,
for she is not respectful and does not obey me. I made a mistake in giving =
her
the pink brains, you see."
Then Ojo went to =
Unc
Nunkie and kissed the old man's marble face very tenderly.
"I'm going to
try to save you, Unc," he said, just as if the marble image could hear
him; and then he shook the crooked hand of the Crooked Magician, who was
already busy hanging the four kettles in the fireplace, and picking up his
basket left the house.
The Patchwork Girl
followed him, and after them came the Glass Cat.
Ojo had never
traveled before and so he only knew that the path down the mountainside led
into the open Munchkin Country, where large numbers of people dwelt. Scraps=
was
quite new and not supposed to know anything of the Land of Oz, while the Gl=
ass
Cat admitted she had never wandered very far away from the Magician's house.
There was only one path before them, at the beginning, so they could not mi=
ss
their way, and for a time they walked through the thick forest in silent
thought, each one impressed with the importance of the adventure they had u=
ndertaken.
Suddenly the
Patchwork Girl laughed. It was funny to see her laugh, because her cheeks
wrinkled up, her nose tipped, her silver button eyes twinkled and her mouth
curled at the corners in a comical way.
"Has somethi=
ng
pleased you?" asked Ojo, who was feeling solemn and joyless through
thinking upon his uncle's sad fate.
"Yes," =
she
answered. "Your world pleases me, for it's a queer world, and life in =
it
is queerer still. Here am I, made from an old bedquilt and intended to be a
slave to Margolotte, rendered free as air by an accident that none of you c=
ould
foresee. I am enjoying life and seeing the world, while the woman who made =
me is
standing helpless as a block of wood. If that isn't funny enough to laugh a=
t, I
don't know what is."
"You're not
seeing much of the world yet, my poor, innocent Scraps," remarked the =
Cat.
"The world doesn't consist wholly of the trees that are on all sides of
us."
"But they're
part of it; and aren't they pretty trees?" returned Scraps, bobbing her
head until her brown yarn curls fluttered in the breeze. "Growing betw=
een
them I can see lovely ferns and wild-flowers, and soft green mosses. If the
rest of your world is half as beautiful I shall be glad I'm alive."
"I don't know
what the rest of the world is like, I'm sure," said the cat; "but=
I
mean to find out."
"I have never
been out of the forest," Ojo added; "but to me the trees are gloo=
my
and sad and the wild-flowers seem lonesome. It must be nicer where there ar=
e no
trees and there is room for lots of people to live together."
"I wonder if=
any
of the people we shall meet will be as splendid as I am," said the
Patchwork Girl. "All I have seen, so far, have pale, colorless skins a=
nd
clothes as blue as the country they live in, while I am of many gorgeous
colors--face and body and clothes. That is why I am bright and contented, O=
jo,
while you are blue and sad."
"I think I m=
ade
a mistake in giving you so many sorts of brains," observed the boy.
"Perhaps, as the Magician said, you have an overdose, and they may not
agree with you."
"What had yo=
u to
do with my brains?" asked Scraps.
"A lot,"
replied Ojo. "Old Margolotte meant to give you only a few--just enough=
to
keep you going--but when she wasn't looking I added a good many more, of the
best kinds I could find in the Magician's cupboard."
"Thanks,&quo=
t;
said the girl, dancing along the path ahead of Ojo and then dancing back to=
his
side. "If a few brains are good, many brains must be better."
"But they ou=
ght
to be evenly balanced," said the boy, "and I had no time to be
careful. From the way you're acting, I guess the dose was badly mixed."=
;
"Scraps hasn=
't
enough brains to hurt her, so don't worry," remarked the cat, which was
trotting along in a very dainty and graceful manner. "The only brains
worth considering are mine, which are pink. You can see 'em work."
After walking a l=
ong
time they came to a little brook that trickled across the path, and here Ojo
sat down to rest and eat something from his basket. He found that the Magic=
ian
had given him part of a loaf of bread and a slice of cheese. He broke off s=
ome
of the bread and was surprised to find the loaf just as large as it was bef=
ore.
It was the same way with the cheese: however much he broke off from the sli=
ce,
it remained exactly the same size.
"Ah," s=
aid
he, nodding wisely; "that's magic. Dr. Pipt has enchanted the bread and
the cheese, so it will last me all through my journey, however much I eat.&=
quot;
"Why do you =
put
those things into your mouth?" asked Scraps, gazing at him in
astonishment. "Do you need more stuffing? Then why don't you use cotto=
n,
such as I am stuffed with?"
"I don't need
that kind," said Ojo.
"But a mouth=
is
to talk with, isn't it?"
"It is also =
to
eat with," replied the boy. "If I didn't put food into my mouth, =
and
eat it, I would get hungry and starve.
"Ah, I didn't
know that," she said. "Give me some."
Ojo handed her a =
bit
of the bread and she put it in her mouth.
"What next?&=
quot;
she asked, scarcely able to speak.
"Chew it and
swallow it," said the boy.
Scraps tried that.
Her pearl teeth were unable to chew the bread and beyond her mouth there wa=
s no
opening. Being unable to swallow she threw away the bread and laughed.
"I must get
hungry and starve, for I can't eat," she said.
"Neither can
I," announced the cat; "but I'm not fool enough to try. Can't you
understand that you and I are superior people and not made like these poor
humans?"
"Why should I
understand that, or anything else?" asked the girl. "Don't bother=
my
head by asking conundrums, I beg of you. Just let me discover myself in my =
own
way."
With this she beg=
an
amusing herself by leaping across the brook and back again.
"Be careful,=
or
you'll fall in the water," warned Ojo.
"Never
mind."
"You'd bette=
r.
If you get wet you'll be soggy and can't walk. Your colors might run,
too," he said.
"Don't my co=
lors
run whenever I run?" she asked.
"Not in the =
way
I mean. If they get wet, the reds and greens and yellows and purples of your
patches might run into each other and become just a blur--no color at all, =
you
know."
"Then,"
said the Patchwork Girl, "I'll be careful, for if I spoiled my splendid
colors I would cease to be beautiful."
"Pah!"
sneered the Glass Cat, "such colors are not beautiful; they're ugly, a=
nd
in bad taste. Please notice that my body has no color at all. I'm transpare=
nt,
except for my exquisite red heart and my lovely pink brains--you can see 'em
work."
"Shoo--shoo-=
-shoo!"
cried Scraps, dancing around and laughing. "And your horrid green eyes,
Miss Bungle! You can't see your eyes, but we can, and I notice you're very
proud of what little color you have. Shoo, Miss Bungle, shoo--shoo--shoo! If
you were all colors and many colors, as I am, you'd be too stuck up for
anything." She leaped over the cat and back again, and the startled Bu=
ngle
crept close to a tree to escape her. This made Scraps laugh more heartily t=
han
ever, and she said:
"Whoop-te-doodle-=
doo! The cat has lost =
her
shoe. Her t=
ootsie's
bare, but she don't care, So what's the odd=
s to
you?"
"Dear me, Ojo," said the =
cat;
"don't you think the creature is a little bit crazy?"
"It may
be," he answered, with a puzzled look.
"If she
continues her insults I'll scratch off her suspender-button eyes,"
declared the cat.
"Don't quarr=
el,
please," pleaded the boy, rising to resume the journey. "Let us be
good comrades and as happy and cheerful as possible, for we are likely to m=
eet
with plenty of trouble on our way."
It was nearly sun=
down
when they came to the edge of the forest and saw spread out before them a
delightful landscape. There were broad blue fields stretching for miles over
the valley, which was dotted everywhere with pretty, blue domed houses, non=
e of
which, however, was very near to the place where they stood. Just at the po=
int
where the path left the forest stood a tiny house covered with leaves from =
the trees,
and before this stood a Munchkin man with an axe in his hand. He seemed very
much surprised when Ojo and Scraps and the Glass Cat came out of the woods,=
but
as the Patchwork Girl approached nearer he sat down upon a bench and laughe=
d so
hard that he could not speak for a long time.
This man was a
woodchopper and lived all alone in the little house. He had bushy blue whis=
kers
and merry blue eyes and his blue clothes were quite old and worn.
"Mercy me!&q=
uot;
exclaimed the woodchopper, when at last he could stop laughing. "Who w=
ould
think such a funny harlequin lived in the Land of Oz? Where did you come fr=
om,
Crazy-quilt?"
"Do you mean
me?" asked the Patchwork Girl.
"Of
course," he replied.
"You misjudg=
e my
ancestry. I'm not a crazy-quilt; I'm patchwork," she said.
"There's no
difference," he replied, beginning to laugh again. "When my old
grandmother sews such things together she calls it a crazy-quilt; but I nev=
er
thought such a jumble could come to life."
"It was the
Magic Powder that did it," explained Ojo.
"Oh, then you
have come from the Crooked Magician on the mountain. I might have known it,
for--Well, I declare! here's a glass cat. But the Magician will get in trou=
ble
for this; it's against the law for anyone to work magic except Glinda the G=
ood
and the royal Wizard of Oz. If you people--or things--or glass spectacles--=
or
crazy-quilts--or whatever you are, go near the Emerald City, you'll be
arrested."
"We're going
there, anyhow," declared Scraps, sitting upon the bench and swinging h=
er
stuffed legs.
"If any of us tak=
es a
rest, We'll=
be
arrested sure, And get no restit=
ution 'Cause the rest w=
e must
endure."
"I see," said the woodcho=
pper,
nodding; "you're as crazy as the crazy-quilt you're made of."
"She really =
is
crazy," remarked the Glass Cat. "But that isn't to be wondered at
when you remember how many different things she's made of. For my part, I'm
made of pure glass--except my jewel heart and my pretty pink brains. Did you
notice my brains, stranger? You can see 'em work."
"So I can,&q=
uot;
replied the woodchopper; "but I can't see that they accomplish much. A
glass cat is a useless sort of thing, but a Patchwork Girl is really useful.
She makes me laugh, and laughter is the best thing in life. There was once a
woodchopper, a friend of mine, who was made all of tin, and I used to laugh
every time I saw him."
"A tin
woodchopper?" said Ojo. "That is strange."
"My friend
wasn't always tin," said the man, "but he was careless with his a=
xe,
and used to chop himself very badly. Whenever he lost an arm or a leg he ha=
d it
replaced with tin; so after a while he was all tin."
"And could he
chop wood then?" asked the boy.
"He could if=
he
didn't rust his tin joints. But one day he met Dorothy in the forest and we=
nt
with her to the Emerald City, where he made his fortune. He is now one of t=
he
favorites of Princess Ozma, and she has made him the Emperor of the
Winkies--the Country where all is yellow."
"Who is
Dorothy?" inquired the Patchwork Girl.
"A little ma=
id
who used to live in Kansas, but is now a Princess of Oz. She's Ozma's best
friend, they say, and lives with her in the royal palace."
"Is Dorothy =
made
of tin?" inquired Ojo.
"Is she
patchwork, like me?" inquired Scraps.
"No," s=
aid
the man; "Dorothy is flesh, just as I am. I know of only one tin perso=
n,
and that is Nick Chopper, the Tin Woodman; and there will never be but one
Patchwork Girl, for any magician that sees you will refuse to make another =
one
like you."
"I suppose we
shall see the Tin Woodman, for we are going to the Country of the
Winkies," said the boy.
"What for?&q=
uot;
asked the woodchopper.
"To get the =
left
wing of a yellow butterfly."
"It is a long journey," declared the man, "and you will go through lonely parts= of Oz and cross rivers and traverse dark forests before you get there." <= o:p>
"Suits me all
right," said Scraps. "I'll get a chance to see the country."=
"You're craz=
y,
girl. Better crawl into a rag-bag and hide there; or give yourself to some
little girl to play with. Those who travel are likely to meet trouble; that=
's
why I stay at home."
The woodchopper t=
hen
invited them all to stay the night at his little hut, but they were anxious=
to
get on and so left him and continued along the path, which was broader, now,
and more distinct.
They expected to
reach some other house before it grew dark, but the twilight was brief and =
Ojo
soon began to fear they had made a mistake in leaving the woodchopper.
"I can scarc=
ely
see the path," he said at last. "Can you see it, Scraps?"
"No,"
replied the Patchwork Girl, who was holding fast to the boy's arm so he cou=
ld
guide her.
"I can
see," declared the Glass Cat. "My eyes are better than yours, and=
my
pink brains--"
"Never mind =
your
pink brains, please," said Ojo hastily; "just run ahead and show =
us
the way. Wait a minute and I'll tie a string to you; for then you can lead
us."
He got a string f=
rom
his pocket and tied it around the cat's neck, and after that the creature
guided them along the path. They had proceeded in this way for about an hour
when a twinkling blue light appeared ahead of them.
"Good! there=
's a
house at last," cried Ojo. "When we reach it the good people will
surely welcome us and give us a night's lodging." But however far they
walked the light seemed to get no nearer, so by and by the cat stopped shor=
t,
saying:
"I think the
light is traveling, too, and we shall never be able to catch up with it. But
here is a house by the roadside, so why go farther?"
"Where is the
house, Bungle?"
"Just here
beside us, Scraps."
Ojo was now able =
to
see a small house near the pathway. It was dark and silent, but the boy was
tired and wanted to rest, so he went up to the door and knocked.
"Who is
there?" cried a voice from within.
"I am Ojo the
Unlucky, and with me are Miss Scraps Patchwork and the Glass Cat," he
replied.
"What do you
want?" asked the Voice.
"A place to
sleep," said Ojo.
"Come in, th=
en;
but don't make any noise, and you must go directly to bed," returned t=
he
Voice.
Ojo unlatched the
door and entered. It was very dark inside and he could see nothing at all. =
But
the cat exclaimed: "Why, there's no one here!"
"There must
be," said the boy. "Some one spoke to me."
"I can see
everything in the room," replied the cat, "and no one is present =
but
ourselves. But here are three beds, all made up, so we may as well go to
sleep."
"What is
sleep?" inquired the Patchwork Girl.
"It's what y=
ou
do when you go to bed," said Ojo.
"But why do =
you
go to bed?" persisted the Patchwork Girl.
"Here, here!=
You
are making altogether too much noise," cried the Voice they had heard
before. "Keep quiet, strangers, and go to bed."
The cat, which co=
uld
see in the dark, looked sharply around for the owner of the Voice, but could
discover no one, although the Voice had seemed close beside them. She arched
her back a little and seemed afraid. Then she whispered to Ojo:
"Come!" and led him to a bed.
With his hands the
boy felt of the bed and found it was big and soft, with feather pillows and
plenty of blankets. So he took off his shoes and hat and crept into the bed.
Then the cat led Scraps to another bed and the Patchwork Girl was puzzled to
know what to do with it.
"Lie down and
keep quiet," whispered the cat, warningly.
"Can't I
sing?" asked Scraps.
"No." <= o:p>
"Can't I
whistle?" asked Scraps.
"No." <= o:p>
"Can't I dan=
ce
till morning, if I want to?" asked Scraps.
"You must ke=
ep
quiet," said the cat, in a soft voice.
"I don't want
to," replied the Patchwork Girl, speaking as loudly as usual. "Wh=
at
right have you to order me around? If I want to talk, or yell, or
whistle--"
Before she could =
say
anything more an unseen hand seized her firmly and threw her out of the doo=
r,
which closed behind her with a sharp slam. She found herself bumping and
rolling in the road and when she got up and tried to open the door of the h=
ouse
again she found it locked.
"What has
happened to Scraps?" asked Ojo.
"Never mind.
Let's go to sleep, or something will happen to us," answered the Glass
Cat.
So Ojo snuggled d=
own
in his bed and fell asleep, and he was so tired that he never wakened until
broad daylight.
When the boy open=
ed
his eyes next morning he looked carefully around the room. These small Munc=
hkin
houses seldom had more than one room in them. That in which Ojo now found
himself had three beds, set all in a row on one side of it. The Glass Cat l=
ay
asleep on one bed, Ojo was in the second, and the third was neatly made up =
and
smoothed for the day. On the other side of the room was a round table on wh=
ich
breakfast was already placed, smoking hot. Only one chair was drawn up to t=
he
table, where a place was set for one person. No one seemed to be in the roo=
m except
the boy and Bungle.
Ojo got up and pu=
t on
his shoes. Finding a toilet stand at the head of his bed he washed his face=
and
hands and brushed his hair. Then he went to the table and said:
"I wonder if
this is my breakfast?"
"Eat it!&quo=
t;
commanded a Voice at his side, so near that Ojo jumped. But no person could=
he
see.
He was hungry, and
the breakfast looked good; so he sat down and ate all he wanted. Then, risi=
ng,
he took his hat and wakened the Glass Cat.
"Come on,
Bungle," said he; "we must go."
He cast another
glance about the room and, speaking to the air, he said: "Whoever lives
here has been kind to me, and I'm much obliged."
There was no answ=
er,
so he took his basket and went out the door, the cat following him. In the
middle of the path sat the Patchwork Girl, playing with pebbles she had pic=
ked
up.
"Oh, there y=
ou
are!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "I thought you were never coming =
out.
It has been daylight a long time."
"What did yo=
u do
all night?" asked the boy.
"Sat here and
watched the stars and the moon," she replied. "They're interestin=
g. I
never saw them before, you know."
"Of course
not," said Ojo.
"You were cr=
azy
to act so badly and get thrown outdoors," remarked Bungle, as they ren=
ewed
their journey.
"That's all
right," said Scraps. "If I hadn't been thrown out I wouldn't have
seen the stars, nor the big gray wolf."
"What
wolf?" inquired Ojo.
"The one that
came to the door of the house three times during the night."
"I don't see=
why
that should be," said the boy, thoughtfully; "there was plenty to=
eat
in that house, for I had a fine breakfast, and I slept in a nice bed."=
"Don't you f=
eel
tired?" asked the Patchwork Girl, noticing that the boy yawned.
"Why, yes; I=
'm
as tired as I was last night; and yet I slept very well."
"And aren't =
you
hungry?"
"It's
strange," replied Ojo. "I had a good breakfast, and yet I think I=
'll
now eat some of my crackers and cheese."
Scraps danced up =
and
down the path. Then she sang:
"Kizzle-kazzle-ko=
re; The wolf is at the
door, There=
's
nothing to eat but a bone without meat, And a bill from t=
he
grocery store."
"What does that mean?" as=
ked
Ojo.
"Don't ask
me," replied Scraps. "I say what comes into my head, but of cours=
e I
know nothing of a grocery store or bones without meat or--very much else.&q=
uot;
"No," s=
aid
the cat; "she's stark, staring, raving crazy, and her brains can't be
pink, for they don't work properly."
"Bother the
brains!" cried Scraps. "Who cares for 'em, anyhow? Have you notic=
ed
how beautiful my patches are in this sunlight?"
Just then they he=
ard
a sound as of footsteps pattering along the path behind them and all three
turned to see what was coming. To their astonishment they beheld a small ro=
und
table running as fast as its four spindle legs could carry it, and to the t=
op
was screwed fast a phonograph with a big gold horn.
"Hold on!&qu=
ot;
shouted the phonograph. "Wait for me!"
"Goodness me;
it's that music thing which the Crooked Magician scattered the Powder of Li=
fe
over," said Ojo.
"So it is,&q=
uot;
returned Bungle, in a grumpy tone of voice; and then, as the phonograph
overtook them, the Glass Cat added sternly: "What are you doing here,
anyhow?"
"I've run
away," said the music thing. "After you left, old Dr. Pipt and I =
had
a dreadful quarrel and he threatened to smash me to pieces if I didn't keep
quiet. Of course I wouldn't do that, because a talking-machine is supposed =
to
talk and make a noise--and sometimes music. So I slipped out of the house w=
hile
the Magician was stirring his four kettles and I've been running after you =
all
night. Now that I've found such pleasant company, I can talk and play tunes=
all
I want to."
Ojo was greatly
annoyed by this unwelcome addition to their party. At first he did not know
what to say to the newcomer, but a little thought decided him not to make
friends.
"We are
traveling on important business," he declared, "and you'll excuse=
me
if I say we can't be bothered."
"How very
impolite!" exclaimed the phonograph.
"I'm sorry; =
but
it's true," said the boy. "You'll have to go somewhere else."=
;
"This is very
unkind treatment, I must say," whined the phonograph, in an injured to=
ne.
"Everyone seems to hate me, and yet I was intended to amuse people.&qu=
ot;
"It isn't yo=
u we
hate, especially," observed the Glass Cat; "it's your dreadful mu=
sic.
When I lived in the same room with you I was much annoyed by your squeaky h=
orn.
It growls and grumbles and clicks and scratches so it spoils the music, and
your machinery rumbles so that the racket drowns every tune you attempt.&qu=
ot;
"That isn't =
my
fault; it's the fault of my records. I must admit that I haven't a clear
record," answered the machine.
"Just the sa=
me,
you'll have to go away," said Ojo.
"Wait a
minute," cried Scraps. "This music thing interests me. I remember=
to
have heard music when I first came to life, and I would like to hear it aga=
in.
What is your name, my poor abused phonograph?"
"Victor Colu=
mbia
Edison," it answered.
"Well, I sha=
ll
call you 'Vic' for short," said the Patchwork Girl. "Go ahead and
play something."
"It'll drive=
you
crazy," warned the cat.
"I'm crazy n= ow, according to your statement. Loosen up and reel out the music, Vic." <= o:p>
"The only re=
cord
I have with me," explained the phonograph, "is one the Magician
attached just before we had our quarrel. It's a highly classical
composition."
"A what?&quo=
t;
inquired Scraps.
"It is class=
ical
music, and is considered the best and most puzzling ever manufactured. You'=
re
supposed to like it, whether you do or not, and if you don't, the proper th=
ing
is to look as if you did. Understand?"
"Not in the
least," said Scraps.
"Then,
listen!"
At once the machi=
ne
began to play and in a few minutes Ojo put his hands to his ears to shut out
the sounds and the cat snarled and Scraps began to laugh.
"Cut it out,
Vic," she said. "That's enough."
But the phonograph
continued playing the dreary tune, so Ojo seized the crank, jerked it free =
and
threw it into the road. However, the moment the crank struck the ground it
bounded back to the machine again and began winding it up. And still the mu=
sic
played.
"Let's
run!" cried Scraps, and they all started and ran down the path as fast=
as
they could go. But the phonograph was right behind them and could run and p=
lay
at the same time. It called out, reproachfully:
"What's the
matter? Don't you love classical music?"
"No, Vic,&qu=
ot;
said Scraps, halting. "We will passical the classical and preserve what
joy we have left. I haven't any nerves, thank goodness, but your music make=
s my
cotton shrink."
"Then turn o=
ver
my record. There's a rag-time tune on the other side," said the machin=
e.
"What's
rag-time?"
"The opposit=
e of
classical."
"All
right," said Scraps, and turned over the record.
The phonograph now
began to play a jerky jumble of sounds which proved so bewildering that aft=
er a
moment Scraps stuffed her patchwork apron into the gold horn and cried:
"Stop--stop! That's the other extreme. It's extremely bad!"
Muffled as it was,
the phonograph played on.
"If you don't
shut off that music I'll smash your record," threatened Ojo.
The music stopped=
, at
that, and the machine turned its horn from one to another and said with gre=
at
indignation: "What's the matter now? Is it possible you can't apprecia=
te
rag-time?"
"Scraps ought
to, being rags herself," said the cat; "but I simply can't stand =
it;
it makes my whiskers curl."
"It is, inde=
ed,
dreadful!" exclaimed Ojo, with a shudder.
"It's enough=
to
drive a crazy lady mad," murmured the Patchwork Girl. "I'll tell =
you
what, Vic," she added as she smoothed out her apron and put it on agai=
n,
"for some reason or other you've missed your guess. You're not a conce=
rt;
you're a nuisance."
"Music hath
charms to soothe the savage breast," asserted the phonograph sadly.
"Then we're =
not
savages. I advise you to go home and beg the Magician's pardon."
"Never! He'd
smash me."
"That's what=
we
shall do, if you stay here," Ojo declared.
"Run along, =
Vic,
and bother some one else," advised Scraps. "Find some one who is =
real
wicked, and stay with him till he repents. In that way you can do some good=
in
the world."
The music thing
turned silently away and trotted down a side path, toward a distant Munchkin
village.
"Is that the=
way
we go?" asked Bungle anxiously.
"No," s=
aid
Ojo; "I think we shall keep straight ahead, for this path is the widest
and best. When we come to some house we will inquire the way to the Emerald
City."
On they went, and
half an hour's steady walking brought them to a house somewhat better than =
the
two they had already passed. It stood close to the roadside and over the do=
or
was a sign that read: "Miss Foolish Owl and Mr. Wise Donkey: Public
Advisers."
When Ojo read this
sign aloud Scraps said laughingly: "Well, here is a place to get all t=
he
advice we want, maybe more than we need. Let's go in."
The boy knocked at
the door.
"Come in!&qu=
ot;
called a deep bass voice.
So they opened the
door and entered the house, where a little light-brown donkey, dressed in a
blue apron and a blue cap, was engaged in dusting the furniture with a blue
cloth. On a shelf over the window sat a great blue owl with a blue sunbonne=
t on
her head, blinking her big round eyes at the visitors.
"Good
morning," said the donkey, in his deep voice, which seemed bigger than=
he
was. "Did you come to us for advice?"
"Why, we cam=
e,
anyhow," replied Scraps, "and now we are here we may as well have
some advice. It's free, isn't it?"
"Certainly,&=
quot;
said the donkey. "Advice doesn't cost anything--unless you follow it.
Permit me to say, by the way, that you are the queerest lot of travelers th=
at
ever came to my shop. Judging you merely by appearances, I think you'd bett=
er
talk to the Foolish Owl yonder."
They turned to lo=
ok
at the bird, which fluttered its wings and stared back at them with its big
eyes.
"Hoot-ti-too=
t-ti-toot!"
cried the owl.
"Fiddle-cum-foo, =
Howdy-do? Riddle-cum, tiddl=
e-cum,
Too-ra-la-loo!&qu=
ot;
"That beats your poetry,
Scraps," said Ojo.
"It's just
nonsense!" declared the Glass Cat.
"But it's go=
od
advice for the foolish," said the donkey, admiringly. "Listen to =
my
partner, and you can't go wrong."
Said the owl in a
grumbling voice:
"Patchwork Girl h=
as
come to life; No
one's sweetheart, no one's wife; Lacking sense and
loving fun, She'll be snubbed=
by
everyone."
"Quite a compliment! Quite a
compliment, I declare," exclaimed the donkey, turning to look at Scrap=
s.
"You are certainly a wonder, my dear, and I fancy you'd make a splendid
pincushion. If you belonged to me, I'd wear smoked glasses when I looked at
you."
"Why?"
asked the Patchwork Girl.
"Because you=
are
so gay and gaudy."
"It is my be=
auty
that dazzles you," she asserted. "You Munchkin people all strut
around in your stupid blue color, while I--"
"You are wro=
ng
in calling me a Munchkin," interrupted the donkey, "for I was bor=
n in
the Land of Mo and came to visit the Land of Oz on the day it was shut off =
from
all the rest of the world. So here I am obliged to stay, and I confess it i=
s a
very pleasant country to live in."
"Hoot-ti-too=
t!"
cried the owl;
"Ojo's searching =
for a
charm, 'Cau=
se Unc
Nunkie's come to harm. Charms are scarce;
they're hard to get; Ojo's got a job, =
you
bet!"
"Is the owl so very foolish?&q=
uot;
asked the boy.
"Extremely
so," replied the donkey. "Notice what vulgar expressions she uses.
But I admire the owl for the reason that she is positively foolish. Owls are
supposed to be so very wise, generally, that a foolish one is unusual, and =
you
perhaps know that anything or anyone unusual is sure to be interesting to t=
he
wise."
The owl flapped i=
ts
wings again, muttering these words:
"It's hard to be a
glassy cat-- No
cat can be more hard than that; She's so transpar=
ent,
every act Is
clear to us, and that's a fact."
"Have you noticed my pink brains?" inquired Bungle, proudly. "You can see 'em work." <= o:p>
"Not in the =
daytime,"
said the donkey. "She can't see very well by day, poor thing. But her
advice is excellent. I advise you all to follow it."
"The owl has=
n't
given us any advice, as yet," the boy declared.
"No? Then wh=
at
do you call all those sweet poems?"
"Just foolis=
hness,"
replied Ojo. "Scraps does the same thing."
"Foolishness=
! Of
course! To be sure! The Foolish Owl must be foolish or she wouldn't be the
Foolish Owl. You are very complimentary to my partner, indeed," assert=
ed
the donkey, rubbing his front hoofs together as if highly pleased.
"The sign sa=
ys
that you are wise," remarked Scraps to the donkey. "I wish you wo=
uld
prove it."
"With great
pleasure," returned the beast. "Put me to the test, my dear Patch=
es,
and I'll prove my wisdom in the wink of an eye."
"What is the
best way to get to the Emerald City?" asked Ojo.
"Walk,"
said the donkey.
"I know; but
what road shall I take?" was the boy's next question.
"The road of
yellow bricks, of course. It leads directly to the Emerald City."
"And how sha=
ll
we find the road of yellow bricks?"
"By keeping
along the path you have been following. You'll come to the yellow bricks pr=
etty
soon, and you'll know them when you see them because they're the only yellow
things in the blue country."
"Thank
you," said the boy. "At last you have told me something."
"Is that the
extent of your wisdom?" asked Scraps.
"No,"
replied the donkey; "I know many other things, but they wouldn't inter=
est
you. So I'll give you a last word of advice: move on, for the sooner you do=
that
the sooner you'll get to the Emerald City of Oz."
"Hoot-ti-too=
t-ti-toot-ti-too!"
screeched the owl;
"Off you go! fast=
or
slow, Where
you're going you don't know. Patches, Bungle,
Munchkin lad, Facing fortunes g=
ood
and bad, Me=
eting
dangers grave and sad, Sometimes worried,
sometimes glad-- Where you're goin=
g you
don't know, Nor
do I, but off you go!"
"Sounds like a hint, to me,&qu=
ot;
said the Patchwork Girl.
"Then let's =
take
it and go," replied Ojo.
They said good-by=
e to
the Wise Donkey and the Foolish Owl and at once resumed their journey.
"There seem =
to
be very few houses around here, after all," remarked Ojo, after they h=
ad
walked for a time in silence.
"Never
mind," said Scraps; "we are not looking for houses, but rather the
road of yellow bricks. Won't it be funny to run across something yellow in =
this
dismal blue country?"
"There are w=
orse
colors than yellow in this country," asserted the Glass Cat, in a spit=
eful
tone.
"Oh; do you =
mean
the pink pebbles you call your brains, and your red heart and green eyes?&q=
uot;
asked the Patchwork Girl.
"No; I mean =
you,
if you must know it," growled the cat.
"You're
jealous!" laughed Scraps. "You'd give your whiskers for a lovely
variegated complexion like mine."
"I
wouldn't!" retorted the cat. "I've the clearest complexion in the=
world,
and I don't employ a beauty-doctor, either."
"I see you
don't," said Scraps.
"Please don't
quarrel," begged Ojo. "This is an important journey, and quarreli=
ng
makes me discouraged. To be brave, one must be cheerful, so I hope you will=
be
as good-tempered as possible."
They had traveled
some distance when suddenly they faced a high fence which barred any further
progress straight ahead. It ran directly across the road and enclosed a sma=
ll
forest of tall trees, set close together. When the group of adventurers pee=
red
through the bars of the fence they thought this forest looked more gloomy a=
nd
forbidding than any they had ever seen before.
They soon discove=
red that
the path they had been following now made a bend and passed around the
enclosure, but what made Ojo stop and look thoughtful was a sign painted on=
the
fence which read:
"BEWARE OF THE
WOOZY!"
"That means," he said,
"that there's a Woozy inside that fence, and the Woozy must be a dange=
rous
animal or they wouldn't tell people to beware of it."
"Let's keep =
out,
then," replied Scraps. "That path is outside the fence, and Mr. W=
oozy
may have all his little forest to himself, for all we care."
"But one of =
our
errands is to find a Woozy," Ojo explained. "The Magician wants m=
e to
get three hairs from the end of a Woozy's tail."
"Let's go on=
and
find some other Woozy," suggested the cat. "This one is ugly and
dangerous, or they wouldn't cage him up. Maybe we shall find another that is
tame and gentle."
"Perhaps the=
re
isn't any other, at all," answered Ojo. "The sign doesn't say:
'Beware a Woozy'; it says: 'Beware the Woozy,' which may mean there's only =
one
in all the Land of Oz."
"Then,"
said Scraps, "suppose we go in and find him? Very likely if we ask him
politely to let us pull three hairs out of the tip of his tail he won't hurt
us."
"It would hu=
rt
him, I'm sure, and that would make him cross," said the cat.
"You needn't
worry, Bungle," remarked the Patchwork Girl; "for if there is dan=
ger
you can climb a tree. Ojo and I are not afraid; are we, Ojo?"
"I am, a
little," the boy admitted; "but this danger must be faced, if we
intend to save poor Unc Nunkie. How shall we get over the fence?"
"Climb,"=
; answered
Scraps, and at once she began climbing up the rows of bars. Ojo followed and
found it more easy than he had expected. When they got to the top of the fe=
nce
they began to get down on the other side and soon were in the forest. The G=
lass
Cat, being small, crept between the lower bars and joined them.
Here there was no
path of any sort, so they entered the woods, the boy leading the way, and
wandered through the trees until they were nearly in the center of the fore=
st.
They now came upon a clear space in which stood a rocky cave.
So far they had m=
et
no living creature, but when Ojo saw the cave he knew it must be the den of=
the
Woozy.
It is hard to face
any savage beast without a sinking of the heart, but still more terrifying =
is
it to face an unknown beast, which you have never seen even a picture of. So
there is little wonder that the pulses of the Munchkin boy beat fast as he =
and
his companions stood facing the cave. The opening was perfectly square, and
about big enough to admit a goat.
"I guess the
Woozy is asleep," said Scraps. "Shall I throw in a stone, to waken
him?"
"No; please
don't," answered Ojo, his voice trembling a little. "I'm in no
hurry."
But he had not lo=
ng
to wait, for the Woozy heard the sound of voices and came trotting out of h=
is
cave. As this is the only Woozy that has ever lived, either in the Land of =
Oz
or out of it, I must describe it to you.
The creature was =
all
squares and flat surfaces and edges. Its head was an exact square, like one=
of
the building-blocks a child plays with; therefore it had no ears, but heard
sounds through two openings in the upper corners. Its nose, being in the ce=
nter
of a square surface, was flat, while the mouth was formed by the opening of=
the
lower edge of the block. The body of the Woozy was much larger than its hea=
d,
but was likewise block-shaped--being twice as long as it was wide and high.=
The
tail was square and stubby and perfectly straight, and the four legs were m=
ade
in the same way, each being four-sided. The animal was covered with a thick,
smooth skin and had no hair at all except at the extreme end of its tail, w=
here
there grew exactly three stiff, stubby hairs. The beast was dark blue in co=
lor
and his face was not fierce nor ferocious in expression, but rather
good-humored and droll.
Seeing the strang=
ers,
the Woozy folded his hind legs as if they had been hinged and sat down to l=
ook
his visitors over.
"Well,
well," he exclaimed; "what a queer lot you are! At first I thought
some of those miserable Munchkin farmers had come to annoy me, but I am
relieved to find you in their stead. It is plain to me that you are a
remarkable group--as remarkable in your way as I am in mine--and so you are
welcome to my domain. Nice place, isn't it? But lonesome--dreadfully
lonesome."
"Why did the=
y shut
you up here?" asked Scraps, who was regarding the queer, square creatu=
re
with much curiosity.
"Because I e=
at
up all the honey-bees which the Munchkin farmers who live around here keep =
to
make them honey."
"Are you fon=
d of
eating honey-bees?" inquired the boy.
"Very. They =
are
really delicious. But the farmers did not like to lose their bees and so th=
ey
tried to destroy me. Of course they couldn't do that."
"Why not?&qu=
ot;
"My skin is =
so
thick and tough that nothing can get through it to hurt me. So, finding they
could not destroy me, they drove me into this forest and built a fence arou=
nd
me. Unkind, wasn't it?"
"But what do=
you
eat now?" asked Ojo.
"Nothing at =
all.
I've tried the leaves from the trees and the mosses and creeping vines, but
they don't seem to suit my taste. So, there being no honey-bees here, I've
eaten nothing for years.
"You must be
awfully hungry," said the boy. "I've got some bread and cheese in=
my
basket. Would you like that kind of food?"
"Give me a
nibble and I will try it; then I can tell you better whether it is grateful=
to
my appetite," returned the Woozy.
So the boy opened=
his
basket and broke a piece off the loaf of bread. He tossed it toward the Woo=
zy,
who cleverly caught it in his mouth and ate it in a twinkling.
"That's rath=
er
good," declared the animal. "Any more?"
"Try some
cheese," said Ojo, and threw down a piece.
The Woozy ate tha=
t,
too, and smacked its long, thin lips.
"That's migh=
ty
good!" it exclaimed. "Any more?"
"Plenty,&quo=
t;
replied Ojo. So he sat down on a Stump and fed the Woozy bread and cheese f=
or a
long time; for, no matter how much the boy broke off, the loaf and the slice
remained just as big.
"That'll
do," said the Woozy, at last; "I'm quite full. I hope the strange
food won't give me indigestion."
"I hope
not," said Ojo. "It's what I eat."
"Well, I must
say I'm much obliged, and I'm glad you came," announced the beast.
"Is there anything I can do in return for your kindness?"
"Yes," =
said
Ojo earnestly, "you have it in your power to do me a great favor, if y=
ou
will."
"What is
it?" asked the Woozy. "Name the favor and I will grant it." =
"I--I want t=
hree
hairs from the tip of your tail," said Ojo, with some hesitation.
"Three hairs!
Why, that's all I have--on my tail or anywhere else," exclaimed the be=
ast.
"I know; but=
I
want them very much."
"They are my
sole ornaments, my prettiest feature," said the Woozy, uneasily. "=
;If
I give up those three hairs I--I'm just a blockhead."
"Yet I must =
have
them," insisted the boy, firmly, and he then told the Woozy all about =
the
accident to Unc Nunkie and Margolotte, and how the three hairs were to be a
part of the magic charm that would restore them to life. The beast listened
with attention and when Ojo had finished the recital it said, with a sigh: =
"I always ke=
ep
my word, for I pride myself on being square. So you may have the three hair=
s,
and welcome. I think, under such circumstances, it would be selfish in me to
refuse you."
"Thank you!
Thank you very much," cried the boy, joyfully. "May I pull out the
hairs now?"
"Any time you
like," answered the Woozy.
So Ojo went up to=
the
queer creature and taking hold of one of the hairs began to pull. He pulled
harder. He pulled with all his might; but the hair remained fast.
"What's the
trouble?" asked the Woozy, which Ojo had dragged here and there all ar=
ound
the clearing in his endeavor to pull out the hair.
"It won't
come," said the boy, panting.
"I was afrai=
d of
that," declared the beast. "You'll have to pull harder."
"I'll help
you," exclaimed Scraps, coming to the boy's side. "You pull the h=
air,
and I'll pull you, and together we ought to get it out easily."
"Wait a
jiffy," called the Woozy, and then it went to a tree and hugged it with
its front paws, so that its body couldn't be dragged around by the pull.
"All ready, now. Go ahead!"
Ojo grasped the h=
air
with both hands and pulled with all his strength, while Scraps seized the b=
oy
around his waist and added her strength to his. But the hair wouldn't budge.
Instead, it slipped out of Ojo's hands and he and Scraps both rolled upon t=
he
ground in a heap and never stopped until they bumped against the rocky cave=
.
"Give it
up," advised the Glass Cat, as the boy arose and assisted the Patchwork
Girl to her feet. "A dozen strong men couldn't pull out those hairs. I
believe they're clinched on the under side of the Woozy's thick skin."=
"Then what s=
hall
I do?" asked the boy, despairingly. "If on our return I fail to t=
ake
these three hairs to the Crooked Magician, the other things I have come to =
seek
will be of no use at all, and we cannot restore Unc Nunkie and Margolotte to
life."
"They're gon=
ers,
I guess," said the Patchwork Girl.
"Never
mind," added the cat. "I can't see that old Unc and Margolotte are
worth all this trouble, anyhow."
But Ojo did not f=
eel
that way. He was so disheartened that he sat down upon a stump and began to
cry.
The Woozy looked =
at
the boy thoughtfully.
"Why don't y=
ou
take me with you?" asked the beast. "Then, when at last you get to
the Magician's house, he can surely find some way to pull out those three
hairs."
Ojo was overjoyed=
at
this suggestion.
"That's
it!" he cried, wiping away the tears and springing to his feet with a
smile. "If I take the three hairs to the Magician, it won't matter if =
they
are still in your body."
"It can't ma=
tter
in the least," agreed the Woozy.
"Come on,
then," said the boy, picking up his basket; "let us start at once=
. I
have several other things to find, you know."
But the Glass Cat
gave a little laugh and inquired in her scornful way:
"How do you =
intend
to get the beast out of this forest?"
That puzzled them=
all
for a time.
"Let us go to
the fence, and then we may find a way," suggested Scraps. So they walk=
ed
through the forest to the fence, reaching it at a point exactly opposite th=
at
where they had entered the enclosure.
"How did you=
get
in?" asked the Woozy.
"We climbed
over," answered Ojo.
"I can't do
that," said the beast. "I'm a very swift runner, for I can overta=
ke a
honey-bee as it flies; and I can jump very high, which is the reason they m=
ade
such a tall fence to keep me in. But I can't climb at all, and I'm too big =
to
squeeze between the bars of the fence."
Ojo tried to think
what to do.
"Can you
dig?" he asked.
"No," answered the Woozy, "for I have no claws. My feet are quite flat on the bottom of them. Nor can I gnaw away the boards, as I have no teeth." <= o:p>
"You're not =
such
a terrible creature, after all," remarked Scraps.
"You haven't
heard me growl, or you wouldn't say that," declared the Woozy. "W=
hen
I growl, the sound echoes like thunder all through the valleys and woodland=
s,
and children tremble with fear, and women cover their heads with their apro=
ns,
and big men run and hide. I suppose there is nothing in the world so terrib=
le
to listen to as the growl of a Woozy."
"Please don't
growl, then," begged Ojo, earnestly.
"There is no
danger of my growling, for I am not angry. Only when angry do I utter my
fearful, ear-splitting, soul-shuddering growl. Also, when I am angry, my ey=
es
flash fire, whether I growl or not."
"Real
fire?" asked Ojo.
"Of course, =
real
fire. Do you suppose they'd flash imitation fire?" inquired the Woozy,=
in
an injured tone.
"In that cas=
e,
I've solved the riddle," cried Scraps, dancing with glee. "Those
fence-boards are made of wood, and if the Woozy stands close to the fence a=
nd
lets his eyes flash fire, they might set fire to the fence and burn it up. =
Then
he could walk away with us easily, being free."
"Ah, I have
never thought of that plan, or I would have been free long ago," said =
the
Woozy. "But I cannot flash fire from my eyes unless I am very angry.&q=
uot;
"Can't you g=
et
angry 'bout something, please?" asked Ojo.
"I'll try. Y=
ou
just say 'Krizzle-Kroo' to me."
"Will that m=
ake
you angry?" inquired the boy.
"Terribly
angry."
"What does it
mean?" asked Scraps.
"I don't kno=
w;
that's what makes me so angry," replied the Woozy.
He then stood clo=
se
to the fence, with his head near one of the boards, and Scraps called out
"Krizzle-Kroo!" Then Ojo said "Krizzle-Kroo!" and the G=
lass
Cat said "Krizzle-Kroo!" The Woozy began to tremble with anger and
small sparks darted from his eyes. Seeing this, they all cried
"Krizzle-Kroo!" together, and that made the beast's eyes flash fi=
re
so fiercely that the fence-board caught the sparks and began to smoke. Then=
it
burst into flame, and the Woozy stepped back and said triumphantly:
"Aha! That d=
id
the business, all right. It was a happy thought for you to yell all togethe=
r,
for that made me as angry as I have ever been. Fine sparks, weren't they?&q=
uot;
"Reg'lar
fireworks," replied Scraps, admiringly.
In a few moments =
the
board had burned to a distance of several feet, leaving an opening big enou=
gh
for them all to pass through. Ojo broke some branches from a tree and with =
them
whipped the fire until it was extinguished.
"We don't wa=
nt
to burn the whole fence down," said he, "for the flames would att=
ract
the attention of the Munchkin farmers, who would then come and capture the
Woozy again. I guess they'll be rather surprised when they find he's
escaped."
"So they
will," declared the Woozy, chuckling gleefully. "When they find I=
'm
gone the farmers will be badly scared, for they'll expect me to eat up their
honey-bees, as I did before."
"That reminds
me," said the boy, "that you must promise not to eat honey-bees w=
hile
you are in our company."
"None at
all?"
"Not a bee. =
You
would get us all into trouble, and we can't afford to have any more trouble
than is necessary. I'll feed you all the bread and cheese you want, and that
must satisfy you."
"All right; =
I'll
promise," said the Woozy, cheerfully. "And when I promise anything
you can depend on it, 'cause I'm square."
"I don't see
what difference that makes," observed the Patchwork Girl, as they found
the path and continued their journey. "The shape doesn't make a thing
honest, does it?"
"Of course it
does," returned the Woozy, very decidedly. "No one could trust th=
at
Crooked Magician, for instance, just because he is crooked; but a square Wo=
ozy
couldn't do anything crooked if he wanted to."
"I am neither
square nor crooked," said Scraps, looking down at her plump body.
"No; you're
round, so you're liable to do anything," asserted the Woozy. "Do =
not
blame me, Miss Gorgeous, if I regard you with suspicion. Many a satin ribbon
has a cotton back."
Scraps didn't
understand this, but she had an uneasy misgiving that she had a cotton back
herself. It would settle down, at times, and make her squat and dumpy, and =
then
she had to roll herself in the road until her body stretched out again.
They had not gone
very far before Bungle, who had run on ahead, came bounding back to say that
the road of yellow bricks was just before them. At once they hurried forwar=
d to
see what this famous road looked like.
It was a broad ro=
ad,
but not straight, for it wandered over hill and dale and picked out the eas=
iest
places to go. All its length and breadth was paved with smooth bricks of a
bright yellow color, so it was smooth and level except in a few places where
the bricks had crumbled or been removed, leaving holes that might cause the
unwary to stumble.
"I wonder,&q=
uot;
said Ojo, looking up and down the road, "which way to go."
"Where are y=
ou
bound for?" asked the Woozy.
"The Emerald
City," he replied.
"Then go
west," said the Woozy. "I know this road pretty well, for I've ch=
ased
many a honey-bee over it."
"Have you ev=
er
been to the Emerald City?" asked Scraps.
"No. I am ve=
ry
shy by nature, as you may have noticed, so I haven't mingled much in
society."
"Are you afr=
aid
of men?" inquired the Patchwork Girl.
"Me? With my
heart-rending growl--my horrible, shudderful growl? I should say not. I am =
not
afraid of anything," declared the Woozy.
"I wish I co=
uld
say the same," sighed Ojo. "I don't think we need be afraid when =
we
get to the Emerald City, for Unc Nunkie has told me that Ozma, our girl Rul=
er,
is very lovely and kind, and tries to help everyone who is in trouble. But =
they
say there are many dangers lurking on the road to the great Fairy City, and=
so
we must be very careful."
"I hope noth=
ing
will break me," said the Glass Cat, in a nervous voice. "I'm a li=
ttle
brittle, you know, and can't stand many hard knocks."
"If anything
should fade the colors of my lovely patches it would break my heart," =
said
the Patchwork Girl.
"I'm not sure
you have a heart," Ojo reminded her.
"Then it wou=
ld
break my cotton," persisted Scraps. "Do you think they are all fa=
st
colors, Ojo?" she asked anxiously.
"They seem f=
ast
enough when you run," he replied; and then, looking ahead of them, he
exclaimed: "Oh, what lovely trees!"
They were certain=
ly
pretty to look upon and the travelers hurried forward to observe them more
closely.
"Why, they a=
re
not trees at all," said Scraps; "they are just monstrous plants.&=
quot;
That is what they
really were: masses of great broad leaves which rose from the ground far in=
to
the air, until they towered twice as high as the top of the Patchwork Girl's
head, who was a little taller than Ojo. The plants formed rows on both side=
s of
the road and from each plant rose a dozen or more of the big broad leaves,
which swayed continually from side to side, although no wind was blowing. B=
ut
the most curious thing about the swaying leaves was their color. They seeme=
d to
have a general groundwork of blue, but here and there other colors glinted =
at times
through the blue--gorgeous yellows, turning to pink, purple, orange and
scarlet, mingled with more sober browns and grays--each appearing as a blot=
ch
or stripe anywhere on a leaf and then disappearing, to be replaced by some
other color of a different shape. The changeful coloring of the great leaves
was very beautiful, but it was bewildering, as well, and the novelty of the
scene drew our travelers close to the line of plants, where they stood watc=
hing
them with rapt interest.
Suddenly a leaf b=
ent
lower than usual and touched the Patchwork Girl. Swiftly it enveloped her in
its embrace, covering her completely in its thick folds, and then it swayed
back upon its stem.
"Why, she's gone!" gasped Ojo, in amazement, and listening carefully he thought he could hear the muffled screams of Scraps coming from the center of the fold= ed leaf. But, before he could think what he ought to do to save her, another l= eaf bent down and captured the Glass Cat, rolling around the little creature un= til she was completely hidden, and then straightening up again upon its stem. <= o:p>
"Look out,&q=
uot;
cried the Woozy. "Run! Run fast, or you are lost."
Ojo turned and saw
the Woozy running swiftly up the road. But the last leaf of the row of plan=
ts
seized the beast even as he ran and instantly he disappeared from sight.
The boy had no ch=
ance
to escape. Half a dozen of the great leaves were bending toward him from
different directions and as he stood hesitating one of them clutched him in=
its
embrace. In a flash he was in the dark. Then he felt himself gently lifted
until he was swaying in the air, with the folds of the leaf hugging him on =
all
sides.
At first he strug=
gled
hard to escape, crying out in anger: "Let me go! Let me go!" But
neither struggles nor protests had any effect whatever. The leaf held him
firmly and he was a prisoner.
Then Ojo quieted
himself and tried to think. Despair fell upon him when he remembered that a=
ll
his little party had been captured, even as he was, and there was none to s=
ave
them.
"I might have
expected it," he sobbed, miserably. "I'm Ojo the Unlucky, and
something dreadful was sure to happen to me."
He pushed against=
the
leaf that held him and found it to be soft, but thick and firm. It was like=
a
great bandage all around him and he found it difficult to move his body or
limbs in order to change their position.
The minutes passed
and became hours. Ojo wondered how long one could live in such a condition =
and
if the leaf would gradually sap his strength and even his life, in order to
feed itself. The little Munchkin boy had never heard of any person dying in=
the
Land of Oz, but he knew one could suffer a great deal of pain. His greatest
fear at this time was that he would always remain imprisoned in the beautif=
ul leaf
and never see the light of day again.
No sound came to =
him
through the leaf; all around was intense silence. Ojo wondered if Scraps had
stopped screaming, or if the folds of the leaf prevented his hearing her. By
and by he thought he heard a whistle, as of some one whistling a tune. Yes;=
it
really must be some one whistling, he decided, for he could follow the stra=
ins
of a pretty Munchkin melody that Unc Nunkie used to sing to him. The sounds
were low and sweet and, although they reached Ojo's ears very faintly, they=
were
clear and harmonious.
Could the leaf
whistle, Ojo wondered? Nearer and nearer came the sounds and then they seem=
ed
to be just the other side of the leaf that was hugging him.
Suddenly the whole
leaf toppled and fell, carrying the boy with it, and while he sprawled at f=
ull
length the folds slowly relaxed and set him free. He scrambled quickly to h=
is
feet and found that a strange man was standing before him--a man so curious=
in
appearance that the boy stared with round eyes.
He was a big man,
with shaggy whiskers, shaggy eyebrows, shaggy hair--but kindly blue eyes th=
at
were gentle as those of a cow. On his head was a green velvet hat with a
jeweled band, which was all shaggy around the brim. Rich but shaggy laces w=
ere
at his throat; a coat with shaggy edges was decorated with diamond buttons;=
the
velvet breeches had jeweled buckles at the knees and shags all around the
bottoms. On his breast hung a medallion bearing a picture of Princess Dorot=
hy
of Oz, and in his hand, as he stood looking at Ojo, was a sharp knife shaped
like a dagger.
"Oh!" e=
xclaimed
Ojo, greatly astonished at the sight of this stranger; and then he added:
"Who has saved me, sir?"
"Can't you
see?" replied the other, with a smile; "I'm the Shaggy Man."=
"Yes; I can =
see
that," said the boy, nodding. "Was it you who rescued me from the
leaf?"
"None other,=
you
may be sure. But take care, or I shall have to rescue you again."
Ojo gave a jump, =
for
he saw several broad leaves leaning toward him; but the Shaggy Man began to
whistle again, and at the sound the leaves all straightened up on their ste=
ms
and kept still.
The man now took
Ojo's arm and led him up the road, past the last of the great plants, and n=
ot
till he was safely beyond their reach did he cease his whistling.
"You see, the
music charms 'em," said he. "Singing or whistling--it doesn't mat=
ter
which--makes 'em behave, and nothing else will. I always whistle as I go by=
'em
and so they always let me alone. To-day as I went by, whistling, I saw a le=
af
curled and knew there must be something inside it. I cut down the leaf with=
my
knife and--out you popped. Lucky I passed by, wasn't it?"
"You were ve=
ry
kind," said Ojo, "and I thank you. Will you please rescue my
companions, also?"
"What
companions?" asked the Shaggy Man.
"The leaves
grabbed them all," said the boy. "There's a Patchwork Girl and--&=
quot;
"A what?&quo=
t;
"A girl made=
of
patchwork, you know. She's alive and her name is Scraps. And there's a Glass
Cat--"
"Glass?"
asked the Shaggy Man.
"All
glass."
"And
alive?"
"Yes," =
said
Ojo; "she has pink brains. And there's a Woozy--"
"What's a
Woozy?" inquired the Shaggy Man.
"Why,
I--I--can't describe it," answered the boy, greatly perplexed. "B=
ut
it's a queer animal with three hairs on the tip of its tail that won't come=
out
and--"
"What won't =
come
out?" asked the Shaggy Man; "the tail?"
"The hairs w=
on't
come out. But you'll see the Woozy, if you'll please rescue it, and then yo=
u'll
know just what it is."
"Of
course," said the Shaggy Man, nodding his shaggy head. And then he wal=
ked
back among the plants, still whistling, and found the three leaves which we=
re
curled around Ojo's traveling companions. The first leaf he cut down releas=
ed
Scraps, and on seeing her the Shaggy Man threw back his shaggy head, opened
wide his mouth and laughed so shaggily and yet so merrily that Scraps liked=
him
at once. Then he took off his hat and made her a low bow, saying:
"My dear, yo=
u're
a wonder. I must introduce you to my friend the Scarecrow."
When he cut down =
the
second leaf he rescued the Glass Cat, and Bungle was so frightened that she=
scampered
away like a streak and soon had joined Ojo, when she sat beside him panting=
and
trembling. The last plant of all the row had captured the Woozy, and a big
bunch in the center of the curled leaf showed plainly where he was. With his
sharp knife the Shaggy Man sliced off the stem of the leaf and as it fell a=
nd unfolded
out trotted the Woozy and escaped beyond the reach of any more of the dange=
rous
plants.
Soon the entire p=
arty
was gathered on the road of yellow bricks, quite beyond the reach of the
beautiful but treacherous plants. The Shaggy Man, staring first at one and =
then
at the other, seemed greatly pleased and interested.
"I've seen q=
ueer
things since I came to the Land of Oz," said he, "but never anyth=
ing
queerer than this band of adventurers. Let us sit down a while, and have a =
talk
and get acquainted."
"Haven't you
always lived in the Land of Oz?" asked the Munchkin boy.
"No; I used =
to
live in the big, outside world. But I came here once with Dorothy, and Ozma=
let
me stay."
"How do you =
like
Oz?" asked Scraps. "Isn't the country and the climate grand?"=
;
"It's the fi=
nest
country in all the world, even if it is a fairyland, and I'm happy every mi=
nute
I live in it," said the Shaggy Man. "But tell me something about
yourselves."
So Ojo related the
story of his visit to the house of the Crooked Magician, and how he met the=
re
the Glass Cat, and how the Patchwork Girl was brought to life and of the
terrible accident to Unc Nunkie and Margolotte. Then he told how he had set=
out
to find the five different things which the Magician needed to make a charm
that would restore the marble figures to life, one requirement being three
hairs from a Woozy's tail.
"We found the
Woozy," explained the boy, "and he agreed to give us the three ha=
irs;
but we couldn't pull them out. So we had to bring the Woozy along with
us."
"I see,"
returned the Shaggy Man, who had listened with interest to the story. "=
;But
perhaps I, who am big and strong, can pull those three hairs from the Woozy=
's
tail."
"Try it, if =
you
like," said the Woozy.
So the Shaggy Man
tried it, but pull as hard as he could he failed to get the hairs out of the
Woozy's tail. So he sat down again and wiped his shaggy face with a shaggy =
silk
handkerchief and said:
"It doesn't
matter. If you can keep the Woozy until you get the rest of the things you
need, you can take the beast and his three hairs to the Crooked Magician and
let him find a way to extract 'em. What are the other things you are to
find?"
"One," =
said
Ojo, "is a six-leaved clover."
"You ought to
find that in the fields around the Emerald City," said the Shaggy Man.
"There is a Law against picking six-leaved clovers, but I think I can =
get
Ozma to let you have one."
"Thank
you," replied Ojo. "The next thing is the left wing of a yellow b=
utterfly."
"For that you
must go to the Winkie Country," the Shaggy Man declared. "I've ne=
ver
noticed any butterflies there, but that is the yellow country of Oz and it's
ruled by a good friend of mine, the Tin Woodman."
"Oh, I've he=
ard
of him!" exclaimed Ojo. "He must be a wonderful man."
"So he is, a=
nd
his heart is wonderfully kind. I'm sure the Tin Woodman will do all in his
power to help you to save your Unc Nunkie and poor Margolotte."
"The next th=
ing
I must find," said the Munchkin boy, "is a gill of water from a d=
ark
well."
"Indeed! Wel=
l,
that is more difficult," said the Shaggy Man, scratching his left ear =
in a
puzzled way. "I've never heard of a dark well; have you?"
"No," s=
aid
Ojo.
"Do you know
where one may be found?" inquired the Shaggy Man.
"I can't
imagine," said Ojo.
"Then we must
ask the Scarecrow."
"The Scarecr=
ow!
But surely, sir, a scarecrow can't know anything."
"Most scarec=
rows
don't, I admit," answered the Shaggy Man. "But this Scarecrow of =
whom
I speak is very intelligent. He claims to possess the best brains in all
Oz."
"Better than
mine?" asked Scraps.
"Better than
mine?" echoed the Glass Cat. "Mine are pink, and you can see 'em
work."
"Well, you c=
an't
see the Scarecrow's brains work, but they do a lot of clever thinking,"
asserted the Shaggy Man. "If anyone knows where a dark well is, it's my
friend the Scarecrow."
"Where does =
he
live?" inquired Ojo.
"He has a
splendid castle in the Winkie Country, near to the palace of his friend the=
Tin
Woodman, and he is often to be found in the Emerald City, where he visits
Dorothy at the royal palace."
"Then we will
ask him about the dark well," said Ojo.
"But what el=
se
does this Crooked Magician want?" asked the Shaggy Man.
"A drop of o=
il
from a live man's body."
"Oh; but the=
re
isn't such a thing."
"That is wha=
t I
thought," replied Ojo; "but the Crooked Magician said it wouldn't=
be
called for by the recipe if it couldn't be found, and therefore I must sear=
ch
until I find it."
"I wish you =
good
luck," said the Shaggy Man, shaking his head doubtfully; "but I
imagine you'll have a hard job getting a drop of oil from a live man's body.
There's blood in a body, but no oil."
"There's cot=
ton
in mine," said Scraps, dancing a little jig.
"I don't dou=
bt
it," returned the Shaggy Man admiringly. "You're a regular comfor=
ter
and as sweet as patchwork can be. All you lack is dignity."
"I hate
dignity," cried Scraps, kicking a pebble high in the air and then tryi=
ng
to catch it as it fell. "Half the fools and all the wise folks are
dignified, and I'm neither the one nor the other."
"She's just
crazy," explained the Glass Cat.
The Shaggy Man
laughed.
"She's
delightful, in her way," he said. "I'm sure Dorothy will be pleas=
ed
with her, and the Scarecrow will dote on her. Did you say you were traveling
toward the Emerald City?"
"Yes,"
replied Ojo. "I thought that the best place to go, at first, because t=
he
six-leaved clover may be found there."
"I'll go with
you," said the Shaggy Man, "and show you the way."
"Thank
you," exclaimed Ojo. "I hope it won't put you out any."
"No," s=
aid
the other, "I wasn't going anywhere in particular. I've been a rover a=
ll
my life, and although Ozma has given me a suite of beautiful rooms in her
palace I still get the wandering fever once in a while and start out to roam
the country over. I've been away from the Emerald City several weeks, this
time, and now that I've met you and your friends I'm sure it will interest =
me
to accompany you to the great city of Oz and introduce you to my friends.&q=
uot;
"That will be
very nice," said the boy, gratefully.
"I hope your
friends are not dignified," observed Scraps.
"Some are, a=
nd
some are not," he answered; "but I never criticise my friends. If
they are really true friends, they may be anything they like, for all of
me."
"There's some
sense in that," said Scraps, nodding her queer head in approval.
"Come on, and let's get to the Emerald City as soon as possible."
With this she ran up the path, skipping and dancing, and then turned to awa=
it
them.
"It is quite=
a
distance from here to the Emerald City," remarked the Shaggy Man, &quo=
t;so
we shall not get there to-day, nor to-morrow. Therefore let us take the jau=
nt
in an easy manner. I'm an old traveler and have found that I never gain
anything by being in a hurry. 'Take it easy' is my motto. If you can't take=
it
easy, take it as easy as you can."
After walking some
distance over the road of yellow bricks Ojo said he was hungry and would st=
op
to eat some bread and cheese. He offered a portion of the food to the Shaggy
Man, who thanked him but refused it.
"When I start
out on my travels," said he, "I carry along enough square meals to
last me several weeks. Think I'll indulge in one now, as long as we're stop=
ping
anyway."
Saying this, he t=
ook
a bottle from his pocket and shook from it a tablet about the size of one of
Ojo's finger-nails.
"That,"
announced the Shaggy Man, "is a square meal, in condensed form. Invent=
ion
of the great Professor Woggle-Bug, of the Royal College of Athletics. It
contains soup, fish, roast meat, salad, apple-dumplings, ice cream and
chocolate-drops, all boiled down to this small size, so it can be convenien=
tly
carried and swallowed when you are hungry and need a square meal."
"I'm
square," said the Woozy. "Give me one, please."
So the Shaggy Man
gave the Woozy a tablet from his bottle and the beast ate it in a twinkling=
.
"You have now
had a six course dinner," declared the Shaggy Man.
"Pshaw!"
said the Woozy, ungratefully, "I want to taste something. There's no f=
un
in that sort of eating."
"One should =
only
eat to sustain life," replied the Shaggy Man, "and that tablet is
equal to a peck of other food."
"I don't care
for it. I want something I can chew and taste," grumbled the Woozy.
"You are qui=
te
wrong, my poor beast," said the Shaggy Man in a tone of pity. "Th=
ink
how tired your jaws would get chewing a square meal like this, if it were n=
ot
condensed to the size of a small tablet--which you can swallow in a
jiffy."
"Chewing isn=
't
tiresome; it's fun," maintained the Woozy. "I always chew the
honey-bees when I catch them. Give me some bread and cheese, Ojo."
"No, no! You=
've
already eaten a big dinner!" protested the Shaggy Man.
"May be,&quo=
t;
answered the Woozy; "but I guess I'll fool myself by munching some bre=
ad
and cheese. I may not be hungry, having eaten all those things you gave me,=
but
I consider this eating business a matter of taste, and I like to realize wh=
at's
going into me."
Ojo gave the beast
what he wanted, but the Shaggy Man shook his shaggy head reproachfully and =
said
there was no animal so obstinate or hard to convince as a Woozy.
At this moment a
patter of footsteps was heard, and looking up they saw the live phonograph
standing before them. It seemed to have passed through many adventures since
Ojo and his comrades last saw the machine, for the varnish of its wooden ca=
se
was all marred and dented and scratched in a way that gave it an aged and
disreputable appearance.
"Dear me!&qu=
ot;
exclaimed Ojo, staring hard. "What has happened to you?"
"Nothing
much," replied the phonograph in a sad and depressed voice. "I've=
had
enough things thrown at me, since I left you, to stock a department store a=
nd
furnish half a dozen bargain-counters."
"Are you so
broken up that you can't play?" asked Scraps.
"No; I still=
am
able to grind out delicious music. Just now I've a record on tap that is re=
ally
superb," said the phonograph, growing more cheerful.
"That is too
bad," remarked Ojo. "We've no objection to you as a machine, you
know; but as a music-maker we hate you."
"Then why wa=
s I
ever invented?" demanded the machine, in a tone of indignant protest. =
They looked at one
another inquiringly, but no one could answer such a puzzling question. Fina=
lly
the Shaggy Man said:
"I'd like to
hear the phonograph play."
Ojo sighed.
"We've been very happy since we met you, sir," he said.
"I know. But=
a
little misery, at times, makes one appreciate happiness more. Tell me, Phon=
y,
what is this record like, which you say you have on tap?"
"It's a popu=
lar
song, sir. In all civilized lands the common people have gone wild over
it."
"Makes civil=
ized
folks wild folks, eh? Then it's dangerous."
"Wild with j=
oy,
I mean," explained the phonograph. "Listen. This song will prove a
rare treat to you, I know. It made the author rich--for an author. It is ca=
lled
'My Lulu.'"
Then the phonogra=
ph
began to play. A strain of odd, jerky sounds was followed by these words, s=
ung
by a man through his nose with great vigor of expression:
"Ah wants mah Lul=
u, mah
coal-black Lulu; Ah wants mah loo-=
loo,
loo-loo, loo-loo, Lu! Ah loves mah Lulu=
, mah
coal-black Lulu, There ain't nobod=
y else
loves loo-loo, Lu!"
"Here--shut that off!" cr=
ied
the Shaggy Man, springing to his feet. "What do you mean by such
impertinence?"
"It's the la=
test
popular song," declared the phonograph, speaking in a sulky tone of vo=
ice.
"A popular
song?"
"Yes. One th=
at
the feeble-minded can remember the words of and those ignorant of music can
whistle or sing. That makes a popular song popular, and the time is coming =
when
it will take the place of all other songs."
"That time w=
on't
come to us, just yet," said the Shaggy Man, sternly: "I'm somethi=
ng
of a singer myself, and I don't intend to be throttled by any Lulus like yo=
ur
coal-black one. I shall take you all apart, Mr. Phony, and scatter your pie=
ces
far and wide over the country, as a matter of kindness to the people you mi=
ght
meet if allowed to run around loose. Having performed this painful duty I
shall--"
But before he cou=
ld
say more the phonograph turned and dashed up the road as fast as its four
table-legs could carry it, and soon it had entirely disappeared from their
view.
The Shaggy Man sat
down again and seemed well pleased. "Some one else will save me the
trouble of scattering that phonograph," said he; "for it is not
possible that such a music-maker can last long in the Land of Oz. When you =
are
rested, friends, let us go on our way."
During the aftern=
oon
the travelers found themselves in a lonely and uninhabited part of the coun=
try.
Even the fields were no longer cultivated and the country began to resemble=
a
wilderness. The road of yellow bricks seemed to have been neglected and bec=
ame
uneven and more difficult to walk upon. Scrubby under-brush grew on either =
side
of the way, while huge rocks were scattered around in abundance.
But this did not
deter Ojo and his friends from trudging on, and they beguiled the journey w=
ith
jokes and cheerful conversation. Toward evening they reached a crystal spri=
ng
which gushed from a tall rock by the roadside and near this spring stood a
deserted cabin. Said the Shaggy Man, halting here:
"We may as w=
ell
pass the night here, where there is shelter for our heads and good water to
drink. Road beyond here is pretty bad; worst we shall have to travel; so le=
t's
wait until morning before we tackle it."
They agreed to th=
is
and Ojo found some brushwood in the cabin and made a fire on the hearth. The
fire delighted Scraps, who danced before it until Ojo warned her she might =
set
fire to herself and burn up. After that the Patchwork Girl kept at a respec=
tful
distance from the darting flames, but the Woozy lay down before the fire li=
ke a
big dog and seemed to enjoy its warmth.
For supper the Sh=
aggy
Man ate one of his tablets, but Ojo stuck to his bread and cheese as the mo=
st
satisfying food. He also gave a portion to the Woozy.
When darkness cam=
e on
and they sat in a circle on the cabin floor, facing the firelight--there be=
ing
no furniture of any sort in the place--Ojo said to the Shaggy Man:
"Won't you t=
ell
us a story?"
"I'm not goo=
d at
stories," was the reply; "but I sing like a bird."
"Raven, or
crow?" asked the Glass Cat.
"Like a song
bird. I'll prove it. I'll sing a song I composed myself. Don't tell anyone =
I'm
a poet; they might want me to write a book. Don't tell 'em I can sing, or t=
hey'd
want me to make records for that awful phonograph. Haven't time to be a pub=
lic
benefactor, so I'll just sing you this little song for your own
amusement."
They were glad en=
ough
to be entertained, and listened with interest while the Shaggy Man chanted =
the
following verses to a tune that was not unpleasant:
"I'll sing a song=
of
Ozland, where wondrous creatures dwell And fruits and fl=
owers
and shady bowers abound in every dell, Where magic is a
science and where no one shows surprise If some amazing t=
hing
takes place before his very eyes.
Our Ruler's a bewitchi=
ng
girl whom fairies love to please; She's always kept=
her
magic sceptre to enforce decrees To make her people
happy, for her heart is kind and true And to aid the ne=
edy
and distressed is what she longs to do.
And then there's Princ=
ess
Dorothy, as sweet as any rose, A lass from Kansa=
s,
where they don't grow fairies, I suppose; And there's the b=
rainy
Scarecrow, with a body stuffed with straw, Who utters words =
of
wisdom rare that fill us all with awe.
I'll not forget Nick
Chopper, the Woodman made of Tin, Whose tender heart
thinks killing time is quite a dreadful sin, Nor old Professor
Woggle-Bug, who's highly magnified And looks so big =
to
everyone that he is filled with pride.
Jack Pumpkinhead's a d=
ear
old chum who might be called a chump, But won renown by
riding round upon a magic Gump; The Sawhorse is a
splendid steed and though he's made of wood He does as many t=
hrilling
stunts as any meat horse could.
And now I'll introduce=
a
beast that ev'ryone adores-- The Cowardly Lion
shakes with fear 'most ev'ry time he roars, And yet he does t=
he
bravest things that any lion might, Because he knows =
that
cowardice is not considered right.
There's Tik-Tok--he's a
clockwork man and quite a funny sight-- He talks and walks
mechanically, when he's wound up tight; And we've a Hungry
Tiger who would babies love to eat But never does be=
cause
we feed him other kinds of meat.
It's hard to name all =
of the
freaks this noble Land's acquired; 'Twould make my s=
ong so
very long that you would soon be tired; But give attention
while I mention one wise Yellow Hen And Nine fine Tiny
Piglets living in a golden pen.
Just search the whole =
world
over--sail the seas from coast to coast-- No other nation in
creation queerer folk can boast; And now our rare =
museum
will include a Cat of Glass, A Woozy, and--las=
t but
not least--a crazy Patchwork Lass."
Ojo was so pleased with this song t=
hat he
applauded the singer by clapping his hands, and Scraps followed suit by
clapping her padded fingers together, although they made no noise. The cat
pounded on the floor with her glass paws--gently, so as not to break them--=
and
the Woozy, which had been asleep, woke up to ask what the row was about.
"I seldom si= ng in public, for fear they might want me to start an opera company," remarked the Shaggy Man, who was pleased to know his effort was appreciated. "Voice, just now, is a little out of training; rusty, perhaps." <= o:p>
"Tell me,&qu=
ot;
said the Patchwork Girl earnestly, "do all those queer people you ment=
ion
really live in the Land of Oz?"
"Every one of
'em. I even forgot one thing: Dorothy's Pink Kitten."
"For goodness
sake!" exclaimed Bungle, sitting up and looking interested. "A Pi=
nk
Kitten? How absurd! Is it glass?"
"No; just
ordinary kitten."
"Then it can=
't
amount to much. I have pink brains, and you can see 'em work."
"Dorothy's
kitten is all pink--brains and all--except blue eyes. Name's Eureka. Great
favorite at the royal palace," said the Shaggy Man, yawning.
The Glass Cat see=
med
annoyed.
"Do you thin=
k a
pink kitten--common meat--is as pretty as I am?" she asked.
"Can't say.
Tastes differ, you know," replied the Shaggy Man, yawning again. "=
;But
here's a pointer that may be of service to you: make friends with Eureka and
you'll be solid at the palace."
"I'm solid n=
ow;
solid glass."
"You don't
understand," rejoined the Shaggy Man, sleepily. "Anyhow, make fri=
ends
with the Pink Kitten and you'll be all right. If the Pink Kitten despises y=
ou,
look out for breakers."
"Would anyon=
e at
the royal palace break a Glass Cat?"
"Might. You
never can tell. Advise you to purr soft and look humble--if you can. And now
I'm going to bed."
Bungle considered=
the
Shaggy Man's advice so carefully that her pink brains were busy long after =
the
others of the party were fast asleep.
Next morning they
started out bright and early to follow the road of yellow bricks toward the
Emerald City. The little Munchkin boy was beginning to feel tired from the =
long
walk, and he had a great many things to think of and consider besides the
events of the journey. At the wonderful Emerald City, which he would presen=
tly
reach, were so many strange and curious people that he was half afraid of
meeting them and wondered if they would prove friendly and kind. Above all
else, he could not drive from his mind the important errand on which he had=
come,
and he was determined to devote every energy to finding the things that were
necessary to prepare the magic recipe. He believed that until dear Unc Nunk=
ie
was restored to life he could feel no joy in anything, and often he wished =
that
Unc could be with him, to see all the astonishing things Ojo was seeing. But
alas Unc Nunkie was now a marble statue in the house of the Crooked Magician
and Ojo must not falter in his efforts to save him.
The country throu=
gh
which they were passing was still rocky and deserted, with here and there a
bush or a tree to break the dreary landscape. Ojo noticed one tree, especia=
lly,
because it had such long, silky leaves and was so beautiful in shape. As he
approached it he studied the tree earnestly, wondering if any fruit grew on=
it
or if it bore pretty flowers.
Suddenly he became
aware that he had been looking at that tree a long time--at least for five
minutes--and it had remained in the same position, although the boy had
continued to walk steadily on. So he stopped short, and when he stopped, the
tree and all the landscape, as well as his companions, moved on before him =
and
left him far behind.
Ojo uttered such a
cry of astonishment that it aroused the Shaggy Man, who also halted. The ot=
hers
then stopped, too, and walked back to the boy.
"What's
wrong?" asked the Shaggy Man.
"Why, we're =
not
moving forward a bit, no matter how fast we walk," declared Ojo. "=
;Now
that we have stopped, we are moving backward! Can't you see? Just notice th=
at
rock."
Scraps looked dow=
n at
her feet and said: "The yellow bricks are not moving."
"But the who=
le
road is," answered Ojo.
"True; quite
true," agreed the Shaggy Man. "I know all about the tricks of this
road, but I have been thinking of something else and didn't realize where we
were."
"It will car=
ry
us back to where we started from," predicted Ojo, beginning to be nerv=
ous.
"No,"
replied the Shaggy Man; "it won't do that, for I know a trick to beat =
this
tricky road. I've traveled this way before, you know. Turn around, all of y=
ou,
and walk backward."
"What good w=
ill
that do?" asked the cat.
"You'll find
out, if you obey me," said the Shaggy Man.
So they all turned
their backs to the direction in which they wished to go and began walking
backward. In an instant Ojo noticed they were gaining ground and as they
proceeded in this curious way they soon passed the tree which had first
attracted his attention to their difficulty.
"How long mu=
st
we keep this up, Shags?" asked Scraps, who was constantly tripping and
tumbling down, only to get up again with a laugh at her mishap.
"Just a litt=
le
way farther," replied the Shaggy Man.
A few minutes lat=
er
he called to them to turn about quickly and step forward, and as they obeyed
the order they found themselves treading solid ground.
"That task i=
s well
over," observed the Shaggy Man. "It's a little tiresome to walk
backward, but that is the only way to pass this part of the road, which has=
a
trick of sliding back and carrying with it anyone who is walking upon it.&q=
uot;
With new courage =
and
energy they now trudged forward and after a time came to a place where the =
road
cut through a low hill, leaving high banks on either side of it. They were
traveling along this cut, talking together, when the Shaggy Man seized Scra=
ps
with one arm and Ojo with another and shouted: "Stop!"
"What's wrong
now?" asked the Patchwork Girl.
"See
there!" answered the Shaggy Man, pointing with his finger.
Directly in the
center of the road lay a motionless object that bristled all over with sharp
quills, which resembled arrows. The body was as big as a ten-bushel-basket,=
but
the projecting quills made it appear to be four times bigger.
"Well, what =
of
it?" asked Scraps.
"That is Chi=
ss,
who causes a lot of trouble along this road," was the reply.
"Chiss! What=
is
Chiss?
"I think it =
is
merely an overgrown porcupine, but here in Oz they consider Chiss an evil
spirit. He's different from a reg'lar porcupine, because he can throw his
quills in any direction, which an American porcupine cannot do. That's what
makes old Chiss so dangerous. If we get too near, he'll fire those quills a=
t us
and hurt us badly."
"Then we wil=
l be
foolish to get too near," said Scraps.
"I'm not
afraid," declared the Woozy. "The Chiss is cowardly, I'm sure, an=
d if
it ever heard my awful, terrible, frightful growl, it would be scared
stiff."
"Oh; can you
growl?" asked the Shaggy Man.
"That is the
only ferocious thing about me," asserted the Woozy with evident pride.
"My growl makes an earthquake blush and the thunder ashamed of itself.=
If
I growled at that creature you call Chiss, it would immediately think the w=
orld
had cracked in two and bumped against the sun and moon, and that would cause
the monster to run as far and as fast as its legs could carry it."
"In that
case," said the Shaggy Man, "you are now able to do us all a great
favor. Please growl."
"But you
forget," returned the Woozy; "my tremendous growl would also frig=
hten
you, and if you happen to have heart disease you might expire."
"True; but we
must take that risk," decided the Shaggy Man, bravely. "Being war=
ned
of what is to occur we must try to bear the terrific noise of your growl; b=
ut
Chiss won't expect it, and it will scare him away."
The Woozy hesitat=
ed.
"I'm fond of=
you
all, and I hate to shock you," it said.
"Never
mind," said Ojo.
"You may be =
made
deaf."
"If so, we w=
ill
forgive you."
"Very well,
then," said the Woozy in a determined voice, and advanced a few steps
toward the giant porcupine. Pausing to look back, it asked: "All
ready?"
"All
ready!" they answered.
"Then cover =
up
your ears and brace yourselves firmly. Now, then--look out!"
The Woozy turned
toward Chiss, opened wide its mouth and said:
"Quee-ee-ee-=
eek."
"Go ahead and
growl," said Scraps.
"Why, I--I d=
id
growl!" retorted the Woozy, who seemed much astonished.
"What, that
little squeak?" she cried.
"It is the m=
ost
awful growl that ever was heard, on land or sea, in caverns or in the
sky," protested the Woozy. "I wonder you stood the shock so well.
Didn't you feel the ground tremble? I suppose Chiss is now quite dead with
fright."
The Shaggy Man
laughed merrily.
"Poor
Wooz!" said he; "your growl wouldn't scare a fly."
The Woozy seemed = to be humiliated and surprised. It hung its head a moment, as if in shame or sorrow, but then it said with renewed confidence: "Anyhow, my eyes can flash fire; and good fire, too; good enough to set fire to a fence!" <= o:p>
"That is
true," declared Scraps; "I saw it done myself. But your ferocious
growl isn't as loud as the tick of a beetle--or one of Ojo's snores when he=
's
fast asleep."
"Perhaps,&qu=
ot;
said the Woozy, humbly, "I have been mistaken about my growl. It has
always sounded very fearful to me, but that may have been because it was so
close to my ears."
"Never
mind," Ojo said soothingly; "it is a great talent to be able to f=
lash
fire from your eyes. No one else can do that."
As they stood
hesitating what to do Chiss stirred and suddenly a shower of quills came fl=
ying
toward them, almost filling the air, they were so many. Scraps realized in =
an
instant that they had gone too near to Chiss for safety, so she sprang in f=
ront
of Ojo and shielded him from the darts, which stuck their points into her o=
wn
body until she resembled one of those targets they shoot arrows at in arche=
ry
games. The Shaggy Man dropped flat on his face to avoid the shower, but one=
quill
struck him in the leg and went far in. As for the Glass Cat, the quills rat=
tled
off her body without making even a scratch, and the skin of the Woozy was so
thick and tough that he was not hurt at all.
When the attack w=
as
over they all ran to the Shaggy Man, who was moaning and groaning, and Scra=
ps
promptly pulled the quill out of his leg. Then up he jumped and ran over to
Chiss, putting his foot on the monster's neck and holding it a prisoner. The
body of the great porcupine was now as smooth as leather, except for the ho=
les
where the quills had been, for it had shot every single quill in that one
wicked shower.
"Let me
go!" it shouted angrily. "How dare you put your foot on Chiss?&qu=
ot;
"I'm going t=
o do
worse than that, old boy," replied the Shaggy Man. "You have anno=
yed
travelers on this road long enough, and now I shall put an end to you."=
;
"You
can't!" returned Chiss. "Nothing can kill me, as you know perfect=
ly
well."
"Perhaps tha=
t is
true," said the Shaggy Man in a tone of disappointment. "Seems to=
me
I've been told before that you can't be killed. But if I let you go, what w=
ill
you do?"
"Pick up my
quills again," said Chiss in a sulky voice.
"And then sh=
oot
them at more travelers? No; that won't do. You must promise me to stop thro=
wing
quills at people."
"I won't pro=
mise
anything of the sort," declared Chiss.
"Why not?&qu=
ot;
"Because it =
is
my nature to throw quills, and every animal must do what Nature intends it =
to
do. It isn't fair for you to blame me. If it were wrong for me to throw qui=
lls,
then I wouldn't be made with quills to throw. The proper thing for you to d=
o is
to keep out of my way."
"Why, there's
some sense in that argument," admitted the Shaggy Man, thoughtfully;
"but people who are strangers, and don't know you are here, won't be a=
ble
to keep out of your way."
"Tell you
what," said Scraps, who was trying to pull the quills out of her own b=
ody,
"let's gather up all the quills and take them away with us; then old C=
hiss
won't have any left to throw at people."
"Ah, that's a
clever idea. You and Ojo must gather up the quills while I hold Chiss a
prisoner; for, if I let him go, he will get some of his quills and be able =
to
throw them again."
So Scraps and Ojo
picked up all the quills and tied them in a bundle so they might easily be
carried. After this the Shaggy Man released Chiss and let him go, knowing t=
hat
he was harmless to injure anyone.
"It's the
meanest trick I ever heard of," muttered the porcupine gloomily. "=
;How
would you like it, Shaggy Man, if I took all your shags away from you?"=
;
"If I threw =
my
shags and hurt people, you would be welcome to capture them," was the
reply.
Then they walked =
on
and left Chiss standing in the road sullen and disconsolate. The Shaggy Man
limped as he walked, for his wound still hurt him, and Scraps was much anno=
yed
because the quills had left a number of small holes in her patches.
When they came to=
a
flat stone by the roadside the Shaggy Man sat down to rest, and then Ojo op=
ened
his basket and took out the bundle of charms the Crooked Magician had given
him.
"I am Ojo the
Unlucky," he said, "or we would never have met that dreadful
porcupine. But I will see if I can find anything among these charms which w=
ill
cure your leg."
Soon he discovered
that one of the charms was labelled: "For flesh wounds," and this=
the
boy separated from the others. It was only a bit of dried root, taken from =
some
unknown shrub, but the boy rubbed it upon the wound made by the quill and i=
n a
few moments the place was healed entirely and the Shaggy Man's leg was as g=
ood
as ever.
"Rub it on t=
he
holes in my patches," suggested Scraps, and Ojo tried it, but without =
any
effect.
"The charm y=
ou
need is a needle and thread," said the Shaggy Man. "But do not wo=
rry,
my dear; those holes do not look badly, at all."
"They'll let=
in
the air, and I don't want people to think I'm airy, or that I've been stuck
up," said the Patchwork Girl.
"You were
certainly stuck up until we pulled out those quills," observed Ojo, wi=
th a
laugh.
So now they went =
on
again and coming presently to a pond of muddy water they tied a heavy stone=
to
the bundle of quills and sunk it to the bottom of the pond, to avoid carryi=
ng
it farther.
From here on the
country improved and the desert places began to give way to fertile spots;
still no houses were yet to be seen near the road. There were some hills, w=
ith
valleys between them, and on reaching the top of one of these hills the
travelers found before them a high wall, running to the right and the left =
as
far as their eyes could reach. Immediately in front of them, where the wall
crossed the roadway, stood a gate having stout iron bars that extended from=
top
to bottom. They found, on coming nearer, that this gate was locked with a g=
reat
padlock, rusty through lack of use.
"Well,"
said Scraps, "I guess we'll stop here."
"It's a good
guess," replied Ojo. "Our way is barred by this great wall and ga=
te.
It looks as if no one had passed through in many years."
"Looks are
deceiving," declared the Shaggy Man, laughing at their disappointed fa=
ces,
"and this barrier is the most deceiving thing in all Oz."
"It prevents=
our
going any farther, anyhow," said Scraps. "There is no one to mind=
the
gate and let people through, and we've no key to the padlock."
"True,"
replied Ojo, going a little nearer to peep through the bars of the gate.
"What shall we do, Shaggy Man? If we had wings we might fly over the w=
all,
but we cannot climb it and unless we get to the Emerald City I won't be abl=
e to
find the things to restore Unc Nunkie to life."
"All very
true," answered the Shaggy Man, quietly; "but I know this gate,
having passed through it many times."
"How?" =
they
all eagerly inquired.
"I'll show y=
ou
how," said he. He stood Ojo in the middle of the road and placed Scraps
just behind him, with her padded hands on his shoulders. After the Patchwork
Girl came the Woozy, who held a part of her skirt in his mouth. Then, last =
of
all, was the Glass Cat, holding fast to the Woozy's tail with her glass jaw=
s.
"Now," =
said
the Shaggy Man, "you must all shut your eyes tight, and keep them shut
until I tell you to open them."
"I can't,&qu=
ot;
objected Scraps. "My eyes are buttons, and they won't shut."
So the Shaggy Man
tied his red handkerchief over the Patchwork Girl's eyes and examined all t=
he
others to make sure they had their eyes fast shut and could see nothing.
"What's the
game, anyhow--blind-man's-buff?" asked Scraps.
"Keep
quiet!" commanded the Shaggy Man, sternly. "All ready? Then follow
me."
He took Ojo's hand
and led him forward over the road of yellow bricks, toward the gate. Holding
fast to one another they all followed in a row, expecting every minute to b=
ump
against the iron bars. The Shaggy Man also had his eyes closed, but marched
straight ahead, nevertheless, and after he had taken one hundred steps, by
actual count, he stopped and said:
"Now you may
open your eyes."
They did so, and =
to
their astonishment found the wall and the gateway far behind them, while in
front the former Blue Country of the Munchkins had given way to green field=
s,
with pretty farm-houses scattered among them.
"That
wall," explained the Shaggy Man, "is what is called an optical il=
lusion.
It is quite real while you have your eyes open, but if you are not looking =
at
it the barrier doesn't exist at all. It's the same way with many other evil=
s in
life; they seem to exist, and yet it's all seeming and not true. You will
notice that the wall--or what we thought was a wall--separates the Munchkin
Country from the green country that surrounds the Emerald City, which lies
exactly in the center of Oz. There are two roads of yellow bricks through t=
he
Munchkin Country, but the one we followed is the best of the two. Dorothy o=
nce
traveled the other way, and met with more dangers than we did. But all our
troubles are over for the present, as another day's journey will bring us to
the great Emerald City."
They were delight=
ed
to know this, and proceeded with new courage. In a couple of hours they sto=
pped
at a farmhouse, where the people were very hospitable and invited them to
dinner. The farm folk regarded Scraps with much curiosity but no great
astonishment, for they were accustomed to seeing extraordinary people in the
Land of Oz.
The woman of this
house got her needle and thread and sewed up the holes made by the porcupine
quills in the Patchwork Girl's body, after which Scraps was assured she loo=
ked
as beautiful as ever.
"You ought to
have a hat to wear," remarked the woman, "for that would keep the=
sun
from fading the colors of your face. I have some patches and scraps put awa=
y,
and if you will wait two or three days I'll make you a lovely hat that will
match the rest of you."
"Never mind =
the
hat," said Scraps, shaking her yarn braids; "it's a kind offer, b=
ut
we can't stop. I can't see that my colors have faded a particle, as yet; can
you?"
"Not much,&q=
uot;
replied the woman. "You are still very gorgeous, in spite of your long
journey."
The children of t=
he
house wanted to keep the Glass Cat to play with, so Bungle was offered a go=
od
home if she would remain; but the cat was too much interested in Ojo's
adventures and refused to stop.
"Children are
rough playmates," she remarked to the Shaggy Man, "and although t=
his
home is more pleasant than that of the Crooked Magician I fear I would soon=
be
smashed to pieces by the boys and girls."
After they had re=
sted
themselves they renewed their journey, finding the road now smooth and plea=
sant
to walk upon and the country growing more beautiful the nearer they drew to=
the
Emerald City.
By and by Ojo beg=
an
to walk on the green grass, looking carefully around him.
"What are you
trying to find?" asked Scraps.
"A six-leaved
clover," said he.
"Don't do
that!" exclaimed the Shaggy Man, earnestly. "It's against the Law=
to
pick a six-leaved clover. You must wait until you get Ozma's consent."=
"She wouldn't
know it," declared the boy.
"Ozma knows =
many
things," said the Shaggy Man. "In her room is a Magic Picture that
shows any scene in the Land of Oz where strangers or travelers happen to be.
She may be watching the picture of us even now, and noticing everything tha=
t we
do."
"Does she al=
ways
watch the Magic Picture?" asked Ojo.
"Not always,=
for
she has many other things to do; but, as I said, she may be watching us this
very minute."
"I don't
care," said Ojo, in an obstinate tone of voice; "Ozma's only a gi=
rl."
The Shaggy Man lo=
oked
at him in surprise.
"You ought to
care for Ozma," said he, "if you expect to save your uncle. For, =
if
you displease our powerful Ruler, your journey will surely prove a failure;
whereas, if you make a friend of Ozma, she will gladly assist you. As for h=
er
being a girl, that is another reason why you should obey her laws, if you a=
re
courteous and polite. Everyone in Oz loves Ozma and hates her enemies, for =
she
is as just as she is powerful."
Ojo sulked a whil=
e,
but finally returned to the road and kept away from the green clover. The b=
oy
was moody and bad tempered for an hour or two afterward, because he could
really see no harm in picking a six-leaved clover, if he found one, and in =
spite
of what the Shaggy Man had said he considered Ozma's law to be unjust.
They presently ca=
me
to a beautiful grove of tall and stately trees, through which the road woun=
d in
sharp curves--first one way and then another. As they were walking through =
this
grove they heard some one in the distance singing, and the sounds grew near=
er
and nearer until they could distinguish the words, although the bend in the
road still hid the singer. The song was something like this:
"Here's to the ha=
le old
bale of straw That's cut from t=
he
waving grain, The
sweetest sight man ever saw In forest, dell or
plain. It f=
ills
me with a crunkling joy A straw-stack to
behold, For=
then
I pad this lucky boy With strands of y=
ellow
gold."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Shagg=
y Man;
"here comes my friend the Scarecrow."
"What, a live
Scarecrow?" asked Ojo.
"Yes; the on=
e I
told you of. He's a splendid fellow, and very intelligent. You'll like him,=
I'm
sure."
Just then the fam=
ous
Scarecrow of Oz came around the bend in the road, riding astride a wooden
Sawhorse which was so small that its rider's legs nearly touched the ground=
.
The Scarecrow wore
the blue dress of the Munchkins, in which country he was made, and on his h=
ead
was set a peaked hat with a flat brim trimmed with tinkling bells. A rope w=
as
tied around his waist to hold him in shape, for he was stuffed with straw in
every part of him except the top of his head, where at one time the Wizard =
of
Oz had placed sawdust, mixed with needles and pins, to sharpen his wits. The
head itself was merely a bag of cloth, fastened to the body at the neck, an=
d on
the front of this bag was painted the face--ears, eyes, nose and mouth.
The Scarecrow's f=
ace
was very interesting, for it bore a comical and yet winning expression,
although one eye was a bit larger than the other and ears were not mates. T=
he
Munchkin farmer who had made the Scarecrow had neglected to sew him together
with close stitches and therefore some of the straw with which he was stuff=
ed
was inclined to stick out between the seams. His hands consisted of padded
white gloves, with the fingers long and rather limp, and on his feet he wor=
e Munchkin
boots of blue leather with broad turns at the tops of them.
The Sawhorse was
almost as curious as its rider. It had been rudely made, in the beginning, =
to
saw logs upon, so that its body was a short length of a log, and its legs w=
ere
stout branches fitted into four holes made in the body. The tail was formed=
by
a small branch that had been left on the log, while the head was a gnarled =
bump
on one end of the body. Two knots of wood formed the eyes, and the mouth wa=
s a
gash chopped in the log. When the Sawhorse first came to life it had no ear=
s at
all, and so could not hear; but the boy who then owned him had whittled two
ears out of bark and stuck them in the head, after which the Sawhorse heard
very distinctly.
This queer wooden
horse was a great favorite with Princess Ozma, who had caused the bottoms of
its legs to be shod with plates of gold, so the wood would not wear away. I=
ts
saddle was made of cloth-of-gold richly encrusted with precious gems. It had
never worn a bridle.
As the Scarecrow =
came
in sight of the party of travelers, he reined in his wooden steed and
dismounted, greeting the Shaggy Man with a smiling nod. Then he turned to s=
tare
at the Patchwork Girl in wonder, while she in turn stared at him.
"Shags,"=
; he
whispered, drawing the Shaggy Man aside, "pat me into shape, there's a
good fellow!"
While his friend
punched and patted the Scarecrow's body, to smooth out the humps, Scraps tu=
rned
to Ojo and whispered: "Roll me out, please; I've sagged down dreadfully
from walking so much and men like to see a stately figure."
She then fell upon
the ground and the boy rolled her back and forth like a rolling-pin, until =
the
cotton had filled all the spaces in her patchwork covering and the body had
lengthened to its fullest extent. Scraps and the Scarecrow both finished th=
eir
hasty toilets at the same time, and again they faced each other.
"Allow me, M=
iss
Patchwork," said the Shaggy Man, "to present my friend, the Right
Royal Scarecrow of Oz. Scarecrow, this is Miss Scraps Patches; Scraps, this=
is
the Scarecrow. Scarecrow--Scraps; Scraps--Scarecrow."
They both bowed w=
ith
much dignity.
"Forgive me =
for
staring so rudely," said the Scarecrow, "but you are the most
beautiful sight my eyes have ever beheld."
"That is a h=
igh
compliment from one who is himself so beautiful," murmured Scraps, cas=
ting
down her suspender-button eyes by lowering her head. "But, tell me, go=
od sir,
are you not a trifle lumpy?"
"Yes, of cou=
rse;
that's my straw, you know. It bunches up, sometimes, in spite of all my eff=
orts
to keep it even. Doesn't your straw ever bunch?"
"Oh, I'm stu=
ffed
with cotton," said Scraps. "It never bunches, but it's inclined to
pack down and make me sag."
"But cotton =
is a
high-grade stuffing. I may say it is even more stylish, not to say
aristocratic, than straw," said the Scarecrow politely. "Still, i=
t is
but proper that one so entrancingly lovely should have the best stuffing th=
ere
is going. I--er--I'm so glad I've met you, Miss Scraps! Introduce us again,
Shaggy."
"Once is
enough," replied the Shaggy Man, laughing at his friend's enthusiasm. =
"Then tell me
where you found her, and--Dear me, what a queer cat! What are you made
of--gelatine?"
"Pure
glass," answered the cat, proud to have attracted the Scarecrow's atte=
ntion.
"I am much more beautiful than the Patchwork Girl. I'm transparent, and
Scraps isn't; I've pink brains--you can see 'em work; and I've a ruby heart,
finely polished, while Scraps hasn't any heart at all."
"No more have
I," said the Scarecrow, shaking hands with Scraps, as if to congratula=
te
her on the fact. "I've a friend, the Tin Woodman, who has a heart, but=
I
find I get along pretty well without one. And so--Well, well! here's a litt=
le
Munchkin boy, too. Shake hands, my little man. How are you?"
Ojo placed his ha=
nd
in the flabby stuffed glove that served the Scarecrow for a hand, and the
Scarecrow pressed it so cordially that the straw in his glove crackled.
Meantime, the Woo=
zy
had approached the Sawhorse and begun to sniff at it. The Sawhorse resented
this familiarity and with a sudden kick pounded the Woozy squarely on its h=
ead
with one gold-shod foot.
"Take that, =
you
monster!" it cried angrily.
The Woozy never e=
ven
winked.
"To be
sure," he said; "I'll take anything I have to. But don't make me =
angry,
you wooden beast, or my eyes will flash fire and burn you up."
The Sawhorse roll=
ed
its knot eyes wickedly and kicked again, but the Woozy trotted away and sai=
d to
the Scarecrow:
"What a sweet
disposition that creature has! I advise you to chop it up for kindling-wood=
and
use me to ride upon. My back is flat and you can't fall off."
"I think the
trouble is that you haven't been properly introduced," said the Scarec=
row,
regarding the Woozy with much wonder, for he had never seen such a queer an=
imal
before.
"The Sawhors=
e is
the favorite steed of Princess Ozma, the Ruler of the Land of Oz, and he li=
ves
in a stable decorated with pearls and emeralds, at the rear of the royal
palace. He is swift as the wind, untiring, and is kind to his friends. All =
the
people of Oz respect the Sawhorse highly, and when I visit Ozma she sometim=
es
allows me to ride him--as I am doing to-day. Now you know what an important
personage the Sawhorse is, and if some one--perhaps yourself--will tell me =
your
name, your rank and station, and your history, it will give me pleasure to =
relate
them to the Sawhorse. This will lead to mutual respect and friendship."=
;
The Woozy was som=
ewhat
abashed by this speech and did not know how to reply. But Ojo said:
"This square
beast is called the Woozy, and he isn't of much importance except that he h=
as
three hairs growing on the tip of his tail."
The Scarecrow loo=
ked
and saw that this was true.
"But," =
said
he, in a puzzled way, "what makes those three hairs important? The Sha=
ggy
Man has thousands of hairs, but no one has ever accused him of being
important."
So Ojo related the
sad story of Unc Nunkie's transformation into a marble statue, and told how=
he
had set out to find the things the Crooked Magician wanted, in order to mak=
e a
charm that would restore his uncle to life. One of the requirements was thr=
ee
hairs from a Woozy's tail, but not being able to pull out the hairs they had
been obliged to take the Woozy with them.
The Scarecrow loo=
ked
grave as he listened and he shook his head several times, as if in disappro=
val.
"We must see
Ozma about this matter," he said. "That Crooked Magician is break=
ing
the Law by practicing magic without a license, and I'm not sure Ozma will a=
llow
him to restore your uncle to life."
"Already I h=
ave
warned the boy of that," declared the Shaggy Man.
At this Ojo began=
to
cry. "I want my Unc Nunkie!" he exclaimed. "I know how he ca=
n be
restored to life, and I'm going to do it--Ozma or no Ozma! What right has t=
his
girl Ruler to keep my Unc Nunkie a statue forever?"
"Don't worry
about that just now," advised the Scarecrow. "Go on to the Emerald
City, and when you reach it have the Shaggy Man take you to see Dorothy. Te=
ll
her your story and I'm sure she will help you. Dorothy is Ozma's best frien=
d,
and if you can win her to your side your uncle is pretty safe to live
again." Then he turned to the Woozy and said: "I'm afraid you are=
not
important enough to be introduced to the Sawhorse, after all."
"I'm a better
beast than he is," retorted the Woozy, indignantly. "My eyes can
flash fire, and his can't."
"Is this
true?" inquired the Scarecrow, turning to the Munchkin boy.
"Yes," =
said
Ojo, and told how the Woozy had set fire to the fence.
"Have you any
other accomplishments?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I have a mo=
st
terrible growl--that is, sometimes," said the Woozy, as Scraps laughed
merrily and the Shaggy Man smiled. But the Patchwork Girl's laugh made the =
Scarecrow
forget all about the Woozy. He said to her:
"What an
admirable young lady you are, and what jolly good company! We must be better
acquainted, for never before have I met a girl with such exquisite coloring=
or
such natural, artless manners."
"No wonder t=
hey
call you the Wise Scarecrow," replied Scraps.
"When you ar=
rive
at the Emerald City I will see you again," continued the Scarecrow.
"Just now I am going to call upon an old friend--an ordinary young lady
named Jinjur--who has promised to repaint my left ear for me. You may have
noticed that the paint on my left ear has peeled off and faded, which affec=
ts
my hearing on that side. Jinjur always fixes me up when I get
weather-worn."
"When do you
expect to return to the Emerald City?" asked the Shaggy Man.
"I'll be the=
re
this evening, for I'm anxious to have a long talk with Miss Scraps. How is =
it,
Sawhorse; are you equal to a swift run?"
"Anything th=
at
suits you suits me," returned the wooden horse.
So the Scarecrow
mounted to the jeweled saddle and waved his hat, when the Sawhorse darted a=
way
so swiftly that they were out of sight in an instant.
"What a queer
man," remarked the Munchkin boy, when the party had resumed its journe=
y.
"And so nice=
and
polite," added Scraps, bobbing her head. "I think he is the
handsomest man I've seen since I came to life."
"Handsome is=
as
handsome does," quoted the Shaggy Man; "but we must admit that no
living scarecrow is handsomer. The chief merit of my friend is that he is a
great thinker, and in Oz it is considered good policy to follow his
advice."
"I didn't no=
tice
any brains in his head," observed the Glass Cat.
"You can't s=
ee
'em work, but they're there, all right," declared the Shaggy Man. &quo=
t;I
hadn't much confidence in his brains myself, when first I came to Oz, for a
humbug Wizard gave them to him; but I was soon convinced that the Scarecrow=
is
really wise; and, unless his brains make him so, such wisdom is
unaccountable."
"Is the Wiza=
rd
of Oz a humbug?" asked Ojo.
"Not now. He=
was
once, but he has reformed and now assists Glinda the Good, who is the Royal
Sorceress of Oz and the only one licensed to practice magic or sorcery. Gli=
nda
has taught our old Wizard a good many clever things, so he is no longer a
humbug."
They walked a lit=
tle
while in silence and then Ojo said:
"If Ozma for=
bids
the Crooked Magician to restore Unc Nunkie to life, what shall I do?" =
The Shaggy Man sh=
ook
his head.
"In that case
you can't do anything," he said. "But don't be discouraged yet. We
will go to Princess Dorothy and tell her your troubles, and then we will let
her talk to Ozma. Dorothy has the kindest little heart in the world, and she
has been through so many troubles herself that she is sure to sympathize wi=
th
you."
"Is Dorothy =
the
little girl who came here from Kansas?" asked the boy.
"Yes. In Kan=
sas
she was Dorothy Gale. I used to know her there, and she brought me to the L=
and
of Oz. But now Ozma has made her a Princess, and Dorothy's Aunt Em and Uncle
Henry are here, too." Here the Shaggy Man uttered a long sigh, and the=
n he
continued: "It's a queer country, this Land of Oz; but I like it,
nevertheless."
"What is que=
er
about it?" asked Scraps.
"You, for
instance," said he.
"Did you see=
no
girls as beautiful as I am in your own country?" she inquired.
"None with t=
he
same gorgeous, variegated beauty," he confessed. "In America a gi=
rl
stuffed with cotton wouldn't be alive, nor would anyone think of making a g=
irl
out of a patchwork quilt."
"What a queer
country America must be!" she exclaimed in great surprise. "The
Scarecrow, whom you say is wise, told me I am the most beautiful creature he
has ever seen."
"I know; and
perhaps you are--from a scarecrow point of view," replied the Shaggy M=
an;
but why he smiled as he said it Scraps could not imagine.
As they drew near=
er
to the Emerald City the travelers were filled with admiration for the splen=
did
scenery they beheld. Handsome houses stood on both sides of the road and ea=
ch
had a green lawn before it as well as a pretty flower garden.
"In another
hour," said the Shaggy Man, "we shall come in sight of the walls =
of
the Royal City."
He was walking ah=
ead,
with Scraps, and behind them came the Woozy and the Glass Cat. Ojo had lagg=
ed
behind, for in spite of the warnings he had received the boy's eyes were
fastened on the clover that bordered the road of yellow bricks and he was e=
ager
to discover if such a thing as a six-leaved clover really existed.
Suddenly he stopp=
ed
short and bent over to examine the ground more closely. Yes; here at last w=
as a
clover with six spreading leaves. He counted them carefully, to make sure. =
In
an instant his heart leaped with joy, for this was one of the important thi=
ngs
he had come for--one of the things that would restore dear Unc Nunkie to li=
fe.
He glanced ahead =
and
saw that none of his companions was looking back. Neither were any other pe=
ople
about, for it was midway between two houses. The temptation was too strong =
to
be resisted.
"I might sea=
rch
for weeks and weeks, and never find another six-leaved clover," he told
himself, and quickly plucking the stem from the plant he placed the prized
clover in his basket, covering it with the other things he carried there. T=
hen,
trying to look as if nothing had happened, he hurried forward and overtook =
his comrades.
The Emerald City,
which is the most splendid as well as the most beautiful city in any fairyl=
and,
is surrounded by a high, thick wall of green marble, polished smooth and set
with glistening emeralds. There are four gates, one facing the Munchkin
Country, one facing the Country of the Winkies, one facing the Country of t=
he
Quadlings and one facing the Country of the Gillikins. The Emerald City lies
directly in the center of these four important countries of Oz. The gates h=
ad
bars of pure gold, and on either side of each gateway were built high tower=
s, from
which floated gay banners. Other towers were set at distances along the wal=
ls,
which were broad enough for four people to walk abreast upon.
This enclosure, a=
ll
green and gold and glittering with precious gems, was indeed a wonderful si=
ght
to greet our travelers, who first observed it from the top of a little hill;
but beyond the wall was the vast city it surrounded, and hundreds of jeweled
spires, domes and minarets, flaunting flags and banners, reared their crests
far above the towers of the gateways. In the center of the city our friends
could see the tops of many magnificent trees, some nearly as tall as the sp=
ires
of the buildings, and the Shaggy Man told them that these trees were in the=
royal
gardens of Princess Ozma.
They stood a long
time on the hilltop, feasting their eyes on the splendor of the Emerald Cit=
y.
"Whee!"
exclaimed Scraps, clasping her padded hands in ecstacy, "that'll do fo=
r me
to live in, all right. No more of the Munchkin Country for these patches--a=
nd
no more of the Crooked Magician!"
"Why, you be=
long
to Dr. Pipt," replied Ojo, looking at her in amazement. "You were
made for a servant, Scraps, so you are personal property and not your own
mistress."
"Bother Dr.
Pipt! If he wants me, let him come here and get me. I'll not go back to his=
den
of my own accord; that's certain. Only one place in the Land of Oz is fit to
live in, and that's the Emerald City. It's lovely! It's almost as beautiful=
as
I am, Ojo."
"In this cou=
ntry,"
remarked the Shaggy Man, "people live wherever our Ruler tells them to=
. It
wouldn't do to have everyone live in the Emerald City, you know, for some m=
ust
plow the land and raise grains and fruits and vegetables, while others chop
wood in the forests, or fish in the rivers, or herd the sheep and the
cattle."
"Poor
things!" said Scraps.
"I'm not sure
they are not happier than the city people," replied the Shaggy Man.
"There's a freedom and independence in country life that not even the
Emerald City can give one. I know that lots of the city people would like to
get back to the land. The Scarecrow lives in the country, and so do the Tin
Woodman and Jack Pumpkinhead; yet all three would be welcome to live in Ozm=
a's
palace if they cared to. Too much splendor becomes tiresome, you know. But,=
if
we're to reach the Emerald City before sundown, we must hurry, for it is ye=
t a
long way off."
The entrancing si=
ght
of the city had put new energy into them all and they hurried forward with
lighter steps than before. There was much to interest them along the roadwa=
y,
for the houses were now set more closely together and they met a good many
people who were coming or going from one place or another. All these seemed
happy-faced, pleasant people, who nodded graciously to the strangers as they
passed, and exchanged words of greeting.
At last they reac=
hed
the great gateway, just as the sun was setting and adding its red glow to t=
he
glitter of the emeralds on the green walls and spires. Somewhere inside the
city a band could be heard playing sweet music; a soft, subdued hum, as of =
many
voices, reached their ears; from the neighboring yards came the low mooing =
of
cows waiting to be milked.
They were almost =
at
the gate when the golden bars slid back and a tall soldier stepped out and
faced them. Ojo thought he had never seen so tall a man before. The soldier
wore a handsome green and gold uniform, with a tall hat in which was a wavi=
ng
plume, and he had a belt thickly encrusted with jewels. But the most peculi=
ar
thing about him was his long green beard, which fell far below his waist and
perhaps made him seem taller than he really was.
"Halt!"
said the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, not in a stern voice but rather i=
n a
friendly tone.
They halted befor=
e he
spoke and stood looking at him.
"Good evenin=
g,
Colonel," said the Shaggy Man. "What's the news since I left?
Anything important?"
"Billina has
hatched out thirteen new chickens," replied the Soldier with the Green
Whiskers, "and they're the cutest little fluffy yellow balls you ever =
saw.
The Yellow Hen is mighty proud of those children, I can tell you."
"She has a r=
ight
to be," agreed the Shaggy Man. "Let me see; that's about seven
thousand chicks she has hatched out; isn't it, General?"
"That, at
least," was the reply. "You will have to visit Billina and congra=
tulate
her."
"It will giv=
e me
pleasure to do that," said the Shaggy Man. "But you will observe =
that
I have brought some strangers home with me. I am going to take them to see
Dorothy."
"One moment,
please," said the soldier, barring their way as they started to enter =
the
gate. "I am on duty, and I have orders to execute. Is anyone in your p=
arty
named Ojo the Unlucky?"
"Why, that's
me!" cried Ojo, astonished at hearing his name on the lips of a strang=
er.
The Soldier with =
the
Green Whiskers nodded. "I thought so," said he, "and I am so=
rry
to announce that it is my painful duty to arrest you."
"Arrest
me!" exclaimed the boy. "What for?"
"I haven't
looked to see," answered the soldier. Then he drew a paper from his br=
east
pocket and glanced at it. "Oh, yes; you are to be arrested for willful=
ly
breaking one of the Laws of Oz."
"Breaking a
law!" said Scraps. "Nonsense, Soldier; you're joking."
"Not this
time," returned the soldier, with a sigh. "My dear child--what are
you, a rummage sale or a guess-me-quick?--in me you behold the Body-Guard of
our gracious Ruler, Princess Ozma, as well as the Royal Army of Oz and the
Police Force of the Emerald City."
"And only one
man!" exclaimed the Patchwork Girl.
"Only one, a=
nd
plenty enough. In my official positions I've had nothing to do for a good m=
any
years--so long that I began to fear I was absolutely useless--until to-day.=
An
hour ago I was called to the presence of her Highness, Ozma of Oz, and told=
to
arrest a boy named Ojo the Unlucky, who was journeying from the Munchkin
Country to the Emerald City and would arrive in a short time. This command =
so astonished
me that I nearly fainted, for it is the first time anyone has merited arrest
since I can remember. You are rightly named Ojo the Unlucky, my poor boy, s=
ince
you have broken a Law of Oz.
"But you are
wrong," said Scraps. "Ozma is wrong--you are all wrong--for Ojo h=
as
broken no Law."
"Then he will
soon be free again," replied the Soldier with the Green Whiskers. &quo=
t;Anyone
accused of crime is given a fair trial by our Ruler and has every chance to
prove his innocence. But just now Ozma's orders must be obeyed."
With this he took
from his pocket a pair of handcuffs made of gold and set with rubies and
diamonds, and these he snapped over Ojo's wrists.
The boy was so
bewildered by this calamity that he made no resistance at all. He knew very
well he was guilty, but it surprised him that Ozma also knew it. He wondered
how she had found out so soon that he had picked the six-leaved clover. He
handed his basket to Scraps and said:
"Keep that,
until I get out of prison. If I never get out, take it to the Crooked Magic=
ian,
to whom it belongs."
The Shaggy Man had
been gazing earnestly in the boy's face, uncertain whether to defend him or
not; but something he read in Ojo's expression made him draw back and refus=
e to
interfere to save him. The Shaggy Man was greatly surprised and grieved, bu=
t he
knew that Ozma never made mistakes and so Ojo must really have broken the L=
aw
of Oz.
The Soldier with =
the
Green Whiskers now led them all through the gate and into a little room bui=
lt
in the wall. Here sat a jolly little man, richly dressed in green and having
around his neck a heavy gold chain to which a number of great golden keys w=
ere
attached. This was the Guardian of the Gate and at the moment they entered =
his
room he was playing a tune upon a mouth-organ.
"Listen!&quo=
t;
he said, holding up his hand for silence. "I've just composed a tune
called 'The Speckled Alligator.' It's in patch-time, which is much superior=
to
rag-time, and I've composed it in honor of the Patchwork Girl, who has just
arrived."
"How did you
know I had arrived?" asked Scraps, much interested.
"It's my
business to know who's coming, for I'm the Guardian of the Gate. Keep quiet
while I play you 'The Speckled Alligator.'"
It wasn't a very =
bad
tune, nor a very good one, but all listened respectfully while he shut his =
eyes
and swayed his head from side to side and blew the notes from the little
instrument. When it was all over the Soldier with the Green Whiskers said: =
"Guardian, I
have here a prisoner."
"Good gracio=
us!
A prisoner?" cried the little man, jumping up from his chair. "Wh=
ich
one? Not the Shaggy Man?"
"No; this
boy."
"Ah; I hope =
his
fault is as small as himself," said the Guardian of the Gate. "But
what can he have done, and what made him do it?"
"Can't
say," replied the soldier. "All I know is that he has broken the =
Law."
"But no one =
ever
does that!"
"Then he mus=
t be
innocent, and soon will be released. I hope you are right, Guardian. Just n=
ow I
am ordered to take him to prison. Get me a prisoner's robe from your Offici=
al
Wardrobe."
The Guardian unlo=
cked
a closet and took from it a white robe, which the soldier threw over Ojo. It
covered him from head to foot, but had two holes just in front of his eyes,=
so
he could see where to go. In this attire the boy presented a very quaint
appearance.
As the Guardian
unlocked a gate leading from his room into the streets of the Emerald City,=
the
Shaggy Man said to Scraps:
"I think I s=
hall
take you directly to Dorothy, as the Scarecrow advised, and the Glass Cat a=
nd
the Woozy may come with us. Ojo must go to prison with the Soldier with the
Green Whiskers, but he will be well treated and you need not worry about
him."
"What will t=
hey
do with him?" asked Scraps.
"That I cann=
ot
tell. Since I came to the Land of Oz no one has ever been arrested or
imprisoned--until Ojo broke the Law."
"Seems to me
that girl Ruler of yours is making a big fuss over nothing," remarked
Scraps, tossing her yarn hair out of her eyes with a jerk of her patched he=
ad.
"I don't know what Ojo has done, but it couldn't be anything very bad,=
for
you and I were with him all the time."
The Shaggy Man ma=
de
no reply to this speech and presently the Patchwork Girl forgot all about O=
jo
in her admiration of the wonderful city she had entered.
They soon separat=
ed
from the Munchkin boy, who was led by the Soldier with the Green Whiskers d=
own
a side street toward the prison. Ojo felt very miserable and greatly ashame=
d of
himself, but he was beginning to grow angry because he was treated in such a
disgraceful manner. Instead of entering the splendid Emerald City as a
respectable traveler who was entitled to a welcome and to hospitality, he w=
as
being brought in as a criminal, handcuffed and in a robe that told all he m=
et
of his deep disgrace.
Ojo was by nature
gentle and affectionate and if he had disobeyed the Law of Oz it was to res=
tore
his dear Unc Nunkie to life. His fault was more thoughtless than wicked, but
that did not alter the fact that he had committed a fault. At first he had =
felt
sorrow and remorse, but the more he thought about the unjust treatment he h=
ad
received--unjust merely because he considered it so--the more he resented h=
is
arrest, blaming Ozma for making foolish laws and then punishing folks who b=
roke
them. Only a six-leaved clover! A tiny green plant growing neglected and
trampled under foot. What harm could there be in picking it? Ojo began to t=
hink
Ozma must be a very bad and oppressive Ruler for such a lovely fairyland as=
Oz.
The Shaggy Man said the people loved her; but how could they?
The little Munchk=
in
boy was so busy thinking these things--which many guilty prisoners have tho=
ught
before him--that he scarcely noticed all the splendor of the city streets
through which they passed. Whenever they met any of the happy, smiling peop=
le,
the boy turned his head away in shame, although none knew who was beneath t=
he
robe.
By and by they
reached a house built just beside the great city wall, but in a quiet, reti=
red
place. It was a pretty house, neatly painted and with many windows. Before =
it
was a garden filled with blooming flowers. The Soldier with the Green Whisk=
ers
led Ojo up the gravel path to the front door, on which he knocked.
A woman opened the
door and, seeing Ojo in his white robe, exclaimed:
"Goodness me=
! A
prisoner at last. But what a small one, Soldier."
"The size
doesn't matter, Tollydiggle, my dear. The fact remains that he is a prisone=
r,"
said the soldier. "And, this being the prison, and you the jailer, it =
is
my duty to place the prisoner in your charge."
"True. Come =
in,
then, and I'll give you a receipt for him."
They entered the
house and passed through a hall to a large circular room, where the woman
pulled the robe off from Ojo and looked at him with kindly interest. The bo=
y,
on his part, was gazing around him in amazement, for never had he dreamed of
such a magnificent apartment as this in which he stood. The roof of the dom=
e was
of colored glass, worked into beautiful designs. The walls were paneled with
plates of gold decorated with gems of great size and many colors, and upon =
the tiled
floor were soft rugs delightful to walk upon. The furniture was framed in g=
old
and upholstered in satin brocade and it consisted of easy chairs, divans and
stools in great variety. Also there were several tables with mirror tops and
cabinets filled with rare and curious things. In one place a case filled wi=
th
books stood against the wall, and elsewhere Ojo saw a cupboard containing a=
ll
sorts of games.
"May I stay =
here
a little while before I go to prison?" asked the boy, pleadingly.
"Why, this is
your prison," replied Tollydiggle, "and in me behold your jailor.
Take off those handcuffs, Soldier, for it is impossible for anyone to escape
from this house."
"I know that
very well," replied the soldier and at once unlocked the handcuffs and
released the prisoner.
The woman touched=
a
button on the wall and lighted a big chandelier that hung suspended from the
ceiling, for it was growing dark outside. Then she seated herself at a desk=
and
asked:
"What
name?"
"Ojo the
Unlucky," answered the Soldier with the Green Whiskers.
"Unlucky? Ah,
that accounts for it," said she. "What crime?"
"Breaking a =
Law
of Oz."
"All right.
There's your receipt, Soldier; and now I'm responsible for the prisoner. I'm
glad of it, for this is the first time I've ever had anything to do, in my
official capacity," remarked the jailer, in a pleased tone.
"It's the sa=
me
with me, Tollydiggle," laughed the soldier. "But my task is finis=
hed
and I must go and report to Ozma that I've done my duty like a faithful Pol=
ice
Force, a loyal Army and an honest Body-Guard--as I hope I am."
Saying this, he
nodded farewell to Tollydiggle and Ojo and went away.
"Now,
then," said the woman briskly, "I must get you some supper, for y=
ou
are doubtless hungry. What would you prefer: planked whitefish, omelet with
jelly or mutton-chops with gravy?"
Ojo thought about=
it.
Then he said: "I'll take the chops, if you please."
"Very well;
amuse yourself while I'm gone; I won't be long," and then she went out=
by
a door and left the prisoner alone.
Ojo was much
astonished, for not only was this unlike any prison he had ever heard of, b=
ut
he was being treated more as a guest than a criminal. There were many windo=
ws
and they had no locks. There were three doors to the room and none were bol=
ted.
He cautiously opened one of the doors and found it led into a hallway. But =
he
had no intention of trying to escape. If his jailor was willing to trust hi=
m in
this way he would not betray her trust, and moreover a hot supper was being=
prepared
for him and his prison was very pleasant and comfortable. So he took a book
from the case and sat down in a big chair to look at the pictures.
This amused him u=
ntil
the woman came in with a large tray and spread a cloth on one of the tables.
Then she arranged his supper, which proved the most varied and delicious me=
al
Ojo had ever eaten in his life.
Tollydiggle sat n=
ear
him while he ate, sewing on some fancy work she held in her lap. When he had
finished she cleared the table and then read to him a story from one of the
books.
"Is this rea=
lly
a prison?" he asked, when she had finished reading.
"Indeed it
is," she replied. "It is the only prison in the Land of Oz."=
"And am I a
prisoner?"
"Bless the
child! Of course."
"Then why is=
the
prison so fine, and why are you so kind to me?" he earnestly asked.
Tollydiggle seemed
surprised by the question, but she presently answered:
"We consider=
a
prisoner unfortunate. He is unfortunate in two ways--because he has done
something wrong and because he is deprived of his liberty. Therefore we sho=
uld
treat him kindly, because of his misfortune, for otherwise he would become =
hard
and bitter and would not be sorry he had done wrong. Ozma thinks that one w=
ho
has committed a fault did so because he was not strong and brave; therefore=
she
puts him in prison to make him strong and brave. When that is accomplished =
he
is no longer a prisoner, but a good and loyal citizen and everyone is glad =
that
he is now strong enough to resist doing wrong. You see, it is kindness that
makes one strong and brave; and so we are kind to our prisoners."
Ojo thought this =
over
very carefully. "I had an idea," said he, "that prisoners we=
re
always treated harshly, to punish them."
"That would =
be
dreadful!" cried Tollydiggle. "Isn't one punished enough in knowi=
ng
he has done wrong? Don't you wish, Ojo, with all your heart, that you had n=
ot
been disobedient and broken a Law of Oz?"
"I--I hate t=
o be
different from other people," he admitted.
"Yes; one li=
kes
to be respected as highly as his neighbors are," said the woman.
"When you are tried and found guilty, you will be obliged to make amen=
ds,
in some way. I don't know just what Ozma will do to you, because this is the
first time one of us has broken a Law; but you may be sure she will be just=
and
merciful. Here in the Emerald City people are too happy and contented ever =
to
do wrong; but perhaps you came from some faraway corner of our land, and ha=
ving
no love for Ozma carelessly broke one of her Laws."
"Yes," =
said
Ojo, "I've lived all my life in the heart of a lonely forest, where I =
saw
no one but dear Unc Nunkie."
"I thought
so," said Tollydiggle. "But now we have talked enough, so let us =
play
a game until bedtime."
Dorothy Gale was
sitting in one of her rooms in the royal palace, while curled up at her feet
was a little black dog with a shaggy coat and very bright eyes. She wore a
plain white frock, without any jewels or other ornaments except an
emerald-green hair-ribbon, for Dorothy was a simple little girl and had not
been in the least spoiled by the magnificence surrounding her. Once the chi=
ld
had lived on the Kansas prairies, but she seemed marked for adventure, for =
she
had made several trips to the Land of Oz before she came to live there for
good. Her very best friend was the beautiful Ozma of Oz, who loved Dorothy =
so well
that she kept her in her own palace, so as to be near her. The girl's Uncle
Henry and Aunt Em--the only relatives she had in the world--had also been
brought here by Ozma and given a pleasant home. Dorothy knew almost everybo=
dy
in Oz, and it was she who had discovered the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and=
the
Cowardly Lion, as well as Tik-Tok the Clockwork Man. Her life was very plea=
sant
now, and although she had been made a Princess of Oz by her friend Ozma she=
did
not care much to be a Princess and remained as sweet as when she had been p=
lain
Dorothy Gale of Kansas.
Dorothy was readi=
ng
in a book this evening when Jellia Jamb, the favorite servant-maid of the
palace, came to say that the Shaggy Man wanted to see her.
"All
right," said Dorothy; "tell him to come right up."
"But he has =
some
queer creatures with him--some of the queerest I've ever laid eyes on,"
reported Jellia.
"Never mind;=
let
'em all come up," replied Dorothy.
But when the door
opened to admit not only the Shaggy Man, but Scraps, the Woozy and the Glass
Cat, Dorothy jumped up and looked at her strange visitors in amazement. The
Patchwork Girl was the most curious of all and Dorothy was uncertain at fir=
st
whether Scraps was really alive or only a dream or a nightmare. Toto, her d=
og,
slowly uncurled himself and going to the Patchwork Girl sniffed at her
inquiringly; but soon he lay down again, as if to say he had no interest in
such an irregular creation.
"You're a new
one to me," Dorothy said reflectively, addressing the Patchwork Girl.
"I can't imagine where you've come from."
"Who, me?&qu=
ot;
asked Scraps, looking around the pretty room instead of at the girl. "=
Oh,
I came from a bed-quilt, I guess. That's what they say, anyhow. Some call i=
t a
crazy-quilt and some a patchwork quilt. But my name is Scraps--and now you =
know
all about me."
"Not quite
all," returned Dorothy with a smile. "I wish you'd tell me how you
came to be alive."
"That's an e=
asy
job," said Scraps, sitting upon a big upholstered chair and making the
springs bounce her up and down. "Margolotte wanted a slave, so she mad=
e me
out of an old bed-quilt she didn't use. Cotton stuffing, suspender-button e=
yes,
red velvet tongue, pearl beads for teeth. The Crooked Magician made a Powde=
r of
Life, sprinkled me with it and--here I am. Perhaps you've noticed my differ=
ent
colors. A very refined and educated gentleman named the Scarecrow, whom I m=
et,
told me I am the most beautiful creature in all Oz, and I believe it."=
"Oh! Have you
met our Scarecrow, then?" asked Dorothy, a little puzzled to understand
the brief history related.
"Yes; isn't =
he
jolly?"
"The Scarecr=
ow
has many good qualities," replied Dorothy. "But I'm sorry to hear=
all
this 'bout the Crooked Magician. Ozma'll be mad as hops when she hears he's
been doing magic again. She told him not to."
"He only
practices magic for the benefit of his own family," explained Bungle, =
who
was keeping at a respectful distance from the little black dog.
"Dear me,&qu=
ot;
said Dorothy; "I hadn't noticed you before. Are you glass, or what?&qu=
ot;
"I'm glass, =
and
transparent, too, which is more than can be said of some folks," answe=
red
the cat. "Also I have some lovely pink brains; you can see 'em work.&q=
uot;
"Oh; is that=
so?
Come over here and let me see."
The Glass Cat
hesitated, eyeing the dog.
"Send that b=
east
away and I will," she said.
"Beast! Why,
that's my dog Toto, an' he's the kindest dog in all the world. Toto knows a
good many things, too; 'most as much as I do, I guess."
"Why doesn't=
he
say anything?" asked Bungle.
"He can't ta=
lk,
not being a fairy dog," explained Dorothy. "He's just a common Un=
ited
States dog; but that's a good deal; and I understand him, and he understands
me, just as well as if he could talk."
Toto, at this, go=
t up
and rubbed his head softly against Dorothy's hand, which she held out to hi=
m,
and he looked up into her face as if he had understood every word she had s=
aid.
"This cat,
Toto," she said to him, "is made of glass, so you mustn't bother =
it,
or chase it, any more than you do my Pink Kitten. It's prob'ly brittle and
might break if it bumped against anything."
"Woof!"
said Toto, and that meant he understood.
The Glass Cat was=
so
proud of her pink brains that she ventured to come close to Dorothy, in ord=
er
that the girl might "see 'em work." This was really interesting, =
but
when Dorothy patted the cat she found the glass cold and hard and unrespons=
ive,
so she decided at once that Bungle would never do for a pet.
"What do you
know about the Crooked Magician who lives on the mountain?" asked Doro=
thy.
"He made
me," replied the cat; "so I know all about him. The Patchwork Gir=
l is
new--three or four days old--but I've lived with Dr. Pipt for years; and,
though I don't much care for him, I will say that he has always refused to =
work
magic for any of the people who come to his house. He thinks there's no har=
m in
doing magic things for his own family, and he made me out of glass because =
the
meat cats drink too much milk. He also made Scraps come to life so she coul=
d do
the housework for his wife Margolotte."
"Then why did
you both leave him?" asked Dorothy.
"I think you=
'd
better let me explain that," interrupted the Shaggy Man, and then he t=
old
Dorothy all of Ojo's story and how Unc Nunkie and Margolotte had accidental=
ly
been turned to marble by the Liquid of Petrifaction. Then he related how the
boy had started out in search of the things needed to make the magic charm,
which would restore the unfortunates to life, and how he had found the Woozy
and taken him along because he could not pull the three hairs out of its ta=
il. Dorothy
listened to all this with much interest, and thought that so far Ojo had ac=
ted
very well. But when the Shaggy Man told her of the Munchkin boy's arrest by=
the
Soldier with the Green Whiskers, because he was accused of wilfully breakin=
g a
Law of Oz, the little girl was greatly shocked.
"What do you
s'pose he's done?" she asked.
"I fear he h=
as
picked a six-leaved clover," answered the Shaggy Man, sadly. "I d=
id
not see him do it, and I warned him that to do so was against the Law; but
perhaps that is what he did, nevertheless."
"I'm sorry '=
bout
that," said Dorothy gravely, "for now there will be no one to help
his poor uncle and Margolotte 'cept this Patchwork Girl, the Woozy and the
Glass Cat."
"Don't menti=
on
it," said Scraps. "That's no affair of mine. Margolotte and Unc
Nunkie are perfect strangers to me, for the moment I came to life they came=
to
marble."
"I see,"
remarked Dorothy with a sigh of regret; "the woman forgot to give you a
heart."
"I'm glad she
did," retorted the Patchwork Girl. "A heart must be a great annoy=
ance
to one. It makes a person feel sad or sorry or devoted or sympathetic--all =
of
which sensations interfere with one's happiness."
"I have a
heart," murmured the Glass Cat. "It's made of a ruby; but I don't
imagine I shall let it bother me about helping Unc Nunkie and Margolotte.&q=
uot;
"That's a pr=
etty
hard heart of yours," said Dorothy. "And the Woozy, of course--&q=
uot;
"Why, as for
me," observed the Woozy, who was reclining on the floor with his legs
doubled under him, so that he looked much like a square box, "I have n=
ever
seen those unfortunate people you are speaking of, and yet I am sorry for t=
hem,
having at times been unfortunate myself. When I was shut up in that forest I
longed for some one to help me, and by and by Ojo came and did help me. So =
I'm
willing to help his uncle. I'm only a stupid beast, Dorothy, but I can't he=
lp
that, and if you'll tell me what to do to help Ojo and his uncle, I'll glad=
ly
do it."
Dorothy walked ov=
er
and patted the Woozy on his square head.
"You're not
pretty," she said, "but I like you. What are you able to do; anyt=
hing
'special?"
"I can make =
my
eyes flash fire--real fire--when I'm angry. When anyone says: 'Krizzle-Kroo=
' to
me I get angry, and then my eyes flash fire."
"I don't see=
as
fireworks could help Ojo's uncle," remarked Dorothy. "Can you do
anything else?"
"I--I though=
t I
had a very terrifying growl," said the Woozy, with hesitation; "b=
ut
perhaps I was mistaken."
"Yes," =
said
the Shaggy Man, "you were certainly wrong about that." Then he tu=
rned
to Dorothy and added: "What will become of the Munchkin boy?"
"I don't
know," she said, shaking her head thoughtfully. "Ozma will see him
'bout it, of course, and then she'll punish him. But how, I don't know, 'ca=
use
no one ever has been punished in Oz since I knew anything about the place. =
Too
bad, Shaggy Man, isn't it?"
While they were
talking Scraps had been roaming around the room and looking at all the pret=
ty
things it contained. She had carried Ojo's basket in her hand, until now, w=
hen
she decided to see what was inside it. She found the bread and cheese, which
she had no use for, and the bundle of charms, which were curious but quite a
mystery to her. Then, turning these over, she came upon the six-leaved clov=
er
which the boy had plucked.
Scraps was
quick-witted, and although she had no heart she recognized the fact that Ojo
was her first friend. She knew at once that because the boy had taken the
clover he had been imprisoned, and she understood that Ojo had given her the
basket so they would not find the clover in his possession and have proof of
his crime. So, turning her head to see that no one noticed her, she took the
clover from the basket and dropped it into a golden vase that stood on
Dorothy's table. Then she came forward and said to Dorothy:
"I wouldn't =
care
to help Ojo's uncle, but I will help Ojo. He did not break the Law--no one =
can
prove he did--and that green-whiskered soldier had no right to arrest
him."
"Ozma ordered
the boy's arrest," said Dorothy, "and of course she knew what she=
was
doing. But if you can prove Ojo is innocent they will set him free at
once."
"They'll hav=
e to
prove him guilty, won't they?'' asked Scraps.
"I s'pose
so."
"Well, they
can't do that," declared the Patchwork Girl.
As it was nearly =
time
for Dorothy to dine with Ozma, which she did every evening, she rang for a
servant and ordered the Woozy taken to a nice room and given plenty of such
food as he liked best.
"That's
honey-bees," said the Woozy.
"You can't e=
at
honey-bees, but you'll be given something just as nice," Dorothy told =
him.
Then she had the Glass Cat taken to another room for the night and the
Patchwork Girl she kept in one of her own rooms, for she was much intereste=
d in
the strange creature and wanted to talk with her again and try to understand
her better.
The Shaggy Man ha=
d a
room of his own in the royal palace, so there he went to change his shaggy =
suit
of clothes for another just as shaggy but not so dusty from travel. He sele=
cted
a costume of pea-green and pink satin and velvet, with embroidered shags on=
all
the edges and iridescent pearls for ornaments. Then he bathed in an alabast=
er
pool and brushed his shaggy hair and whiskers the wrong way to make them st=
ill
more shaggy. This accomplished, and arrayed in his splendid shaggy garments=
, he
went to Ozma's banquet hall and found the Scarecrow, the Wizard and Dorothy
already assembled there. The Scarecrow had made a quick trip and returned to
the Emerald City with his left ear freshly painted.
A moment later, w=
hile
they all stood in waiting, a servant threw open a door, the orchestra struc=
k up
a tune and Ozma of Oz entered.
Much has been told
and written concerning the beauty of person and character of this sweet girl
Ruler of the Land of Oz--the richest, the happiest and most delightful
fairyland of which we have any knowledge. Yet with all her queenly qualities
Ozma was a real girl and enjoyed the things in life that other real girls
enjoy. When she sat on her splendid emerald throne in the great Throne Room=
of
her palace and made laws and settled disputes and tried to keep all her
subjects happy and contented, she was as dignified and demure as any queen
might be; but when she had thrown aside her jeweled robe of state and her
sceptre, and had retired to her private apartments, the girl--joyous, light=
-hearted
and free--replaced the sedate Ruler.
In the banquet ha=
ll
to-night were gathered only old and trusted friends, so here Ozma was
herself--a mere girl. She greeted Dorothy with a kiss, the Shaggy Man with a
smile, the little old Wizard with a friendly handshake and then she pressed=
the
Scarecrow's stuffed arm and cried merrily:
"What a love=
ly
left ear! Why, it's a hundred times better than the old one."
"I'm glad you
like it," replied the Scarecrow, well pleased. "Jinjur did a neat
job, didn't she? And my hearing is now perfect. Isn't it wonderful what a
little paint will do, if it's properly applied?"
"It really is
wonderful," she agreed, as they all took their seats; "but the
Sawhorse must have made his legs twinkle to have carried you so far in one =
day.
I didn't expect you back before to-morrow, at the earliest."
"Well,"
said the Scarecrow, "I met a charming girl on the road and wanted to s=
ee
more of her, so I hurried back."
Ozma laughed.
"I know,&quo=
t;
she returned; "it's the Patchwork Girl. She is certainly bewildering, =
if
not strictly beautiful."
"Have you se=
en
her, then?" the straw man eagerly asked.
"Only in my
Magic Picture, which shows me all scenes of interest in the Land of Oz.&quo=
t;
"I fear the
picture didn't do her justice," said the Scarecrow.
"It seemed t=
o me
that nothing could be more gorgeous," declared Ozma. "Whoever made
that patchwork quilt, from which Scraps was formed, must have selected the
gayest and brightest bits of cloth that ever were woven."
"I am glad y=
ou
like her," said the Scarecrow in a satisfied tone. Although the straw =
man
did not eat, not being made so he could, he often dined with Ozma and her
companions, merely for the pleasure of talking with them. He sat at the tab=
le
and had a napkin and plate, but the servants knew better than to offer him
food. After a little while he asked: "Where is the Patchwork Girl
now?"
"In my
room," replied Dorothy. "I've taken a fancy to her; she's so queer
and--and--uncommon."
"She's half
crazy, I think," added the Shaggy Man.
"But she is =
so
beautiful!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, as if that fact disarmed all
criticism. They all laughed at his enthusiasm, but the Scarecrow was quite
serious. Seeing that he was interested in Scraps they forbore to say anythi=
ng
against her. The little band of friends Ozma had gathered around her was so
quaintly assorted that much care must be exercised to avoid hurting their
feelings or making any one of them unhappy. It was this considerate kindness
that held them close friends and enabled them to enjoy one another's societ=
y.
Another thing they
avoided was conversing on unpleasant subjects, and for that reason Ojo and =
his
troubles were not mentioned during the dinner. The Shaggy Man, however, rel=
ated
his adventures with the monstrous plants which had seized and enfolded the
travelers, and told how he had robbed Chiss, the giant porcupine, of the qu=
ills
which it was accustomed to throw at people. Both Dorothy and Ozma were plea=
sed with
this exploit and thought it served Chiss right.
Then they talked =
of the
Woozy, which was the most remarkable animal any of them had ever before
seen--except, perhaps, the live Sawhorse. Ozma had never known that her
dominions contained such a thing as a Woozy, there being but one in existen=
ce
and this being confined in his forest for many years. Dorothy said she beli=
eved
the Woozy was a good beast, honest and faithful; but she added that she did=
not
care much for the Glass Cat.
"Still,"
said the Shaggy Man, "the Glass Cat is very pretty and if she were not=
so
conceited over her pink brains no one would object to her as a companion.&q=
uot;
The Wizard had be=
en
eating silently until now, when he looked up and remarked:
"That Powder=
of
Life which is made by the Crooked Magician is really a wonderful thing. But=
Dr.
Pipt does not know its true value and he uses it in the most foolish
ways."
"I must see
about that," said Ozma, gravely. Then she smiled again and continued i=
n a
lighter tone: "It was Dr. Pipt's famous Powder of Life that enabled me=
to
become the Ruler of Oz."
"I've never
heard that story," said the Shaggy Man, looking at Ozma questioningly.=
"Well, when I
was a baby girl I was stolen by an old Witch named Mombi and transformed in=
to a
boy," began the girl Ruler. "I did not know who I was and when I =
grew
big enough to work, the Witch made me wait upon her and carry wood for the =
fire
and hoe in the garden. One day she came back from a journey bringing some of
the Powder of Life, which Dr. Pipt had given her. I had made a pumpkin-head=
ed
man and set it up in her path to frighten her, for I was fond of fun and ha=
ted
the Witch. But she knew what the figure was and to test her Powder of Life =
she sprinkled
some of it on the man I had made. It came to life and is now our dear friend
Jack Pumpkinhead. That night I ran away with Jack to escape punishment, and=
I
took old Mombi's Powder of Life with me. During our journey we came upon a
wooden Sawhorse standing by the road and I used the magic powder to bring i=
t to
life. The Sawhorse has been with me ever since. When I got to the Emerald C=
ity
the good Sorceress, Glinda, knew who I was and restored me to my proper per=
son,
when I became the rightful Ruler of this land. So you see had not old Mombi=
brought
home the Powder of Life I might never have run away from her and become Ozm=
a of
Oz, nor would we have had Jack Pumpkinhead and the Sawhorse to comfort and
amuse us."
That story intere=
sted
the Shaggy Man very much, as well as the others, who had often heard it bef=
ore.
The dinner being now concluded, they all went to Ozma's drawing-room, where
they passed a pleasant evening before it came time to retire.
The next morning =
the
Soldier with the Green Whiskers went to the prison and took Ojo away to the
royal palace, where he was summoned to appear before the girl Ruler for
judgment. Again the soldier put upon the boy the jeweled handcuffs and white
prisoner's robe with the peaked top and holes for the eyes. Ojo was so asha=
med,
both of his disgrace and the fault he had committed, that he was glad to be
covered up in this way, so that people could not see him or know who he was=
. He
followed the Soldier with the Green Whiskers very willingly, anxious that h=
is
fate might be decided as soon as possible.
The inhabitants of
the Emerald City were polite people and never jeered at the unfortunate; bu=
t it
was so long since they had seen a prisoner that they cast many curious looks
toward the boy and many of them hurried away to the royal palace to be pres=
ent
during the trial.
When Ojo was esco=
rted
into the great Throne Room of the palace he found hundreds of people assemb=
led
there. In the magnificent emerald throne, which sparkled with countless jew=
els,
sat Ozma of Oz in her Robe of State, which was embroidered with emeralds and
pearls. On her right, but a little lower, was Dorothy, and on her left the
Scarecrow. Still lower, but nearly in front of Ozma, sat the wonderful Wiza=
rd
of Oz and on a small table beside him was the golden vase from Dorothy's ro=
om, into
which Scraps had dropped the stolen clover.
At Ozma's feet
crouched two enormous beasts, each the largest and most powerful of its kin=
d.
Although these beasts were quite free, no one present was alarmed by them; =
for
the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger were well known and respected in the
Emerald City and they always guarded the Ruler when she held high court in =
the
Throne Room. There was still another beast present, but this one Dorothy he=
ld
in her arms, for it was her constant companion, the little dog Toto. Toto k=
new
the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger and often played and romped with the=
m,
for they were good friends.
Seated on ivory
chairs before Ozma, with a clear space between them and the throne, were ma=
ny
of the nobility of the Emerald City, lords and ladies in beautiful costumes,
and officials of the kingdom in the royal uniforms of Oz. Behind these
courtiers were others of less importance, filling the great hall to the very
doors.
At the same moment
that the Soldier with the Green Whiskers arrived with Ojo, the Shaggy Man
entered from a side door, escorting the Patchwork Girl, the Woozy and the G=
lass
Cat. All these came to the vacant space before the throne and stood facing =
the
Ruler.
"Hullo,
Ojo," said Scraps; "how are you?"
"All
right," he replied; but the scene awed the boy and his voice trembled a
little with fear. Nothing could awe the Patchwork Girl, and although the Wo=
ozy
was somewhat uneasy in these splendid surroundings the Glass Cat was deligh=
ted
with the sumptuousness of the court and the impressiveness of the
occasion--pretty big words but quite expressive.
At a sign from Oz=
ma
the soldier removed Ojo's white robe and the boy stood face to face with the
girl who was to decide his punishment. He saw at a glance how lovely and sw=
eet
she was, and his heart gave a bound of joy, for he hoped she would be merci=
ful.
Ozma sat looking =
at
the prisoner a long time. Then she said gently:
"One of the =
Laws
of Oz forbids anyone to pick a six-leaved clover. You are accused of having
broken this Law, even after you had been warned not to do so."
Ojo hung his head=
and
while he hesitated how to reply the Patchwork Girl stepped forward and spoke
for him.
"All this fu=
ss
is about nothing at all," she said, facing Ozma unabashed. "You c=
an't
prove he picked the six-leaved clover, so you've no right to accuse him of =
it.
Search him, if you like, but you won't find the clover; look in his basket =
and
you'll find it's not there. He hasn't got it, so I demand that you set this
poor Munchkin boy free."
The people of Oz
listened to this defiance in amazement and wondered at the queer Patchwork =
Girl
who dared talk so boldly to their Ruler. But Ozma sat silent and motionless=
and
it was the little Wizard who answered Scraps.
"So the clov=
er
hasn't been picked, eh?" he said. "I think it has. I think the boy
hid it in his basket, and then gave the basket to you. I also think you dro=
pped
the clover into this vase, which stood in Princess Dorothy's room, hoping to
get rid of it so it would not prove the boy guilty. You're a stranger here,
Miss Patches, and so you don't know that nothing can be hidden from our
powerful Ruler's Magic Picture--nor from the watchful eyes of the humble Wi=
zard
of Oz. Look, all of you!" With these words he waved his hands toward t=
he
vase on the table, which Scraps now noticed for the first time.
From the mouth of=
the
vase a plant sprouted, slowly growing before their eyes until it became a
beautiful bush, and on the topmost branch appeared the six-leaved clover wh=
ich
Ojo had unfortunately picked.
The Patchwork Girl
looked at the clover and said: "Oh, so you've found it. Very well; pro=
ve
he picked it, if you can."
Ozma turned to Oj=
o.
"Did you pick
the six-leaved clover?" she asked.
"Yes," =
he
replied. "I knew it was against the Law, but I wanted to save Unc Nunk=
ie
and I was afraid if I asked your consent to pick it you would refuse me.&qu=
ot;
"What caused=
you
to think that?" asked the Ruler.
"Why, it see=
med
to me a foolish law, unjust and unreasonable. Even now I can see no harm in
picking a six-leaved clover. And I--I had not seen the Emerald City, then, =
nor
you, and I thought a girl who would make such a silly Law would not be like=
ly
to help anyone in trouble."
Ozma regarded him
musingly, her chin resting upon her hand; but she was not angry. On the
contrary she smiled a little at her thoughts and then grew sober again.
"I suppose a
good many laws seem foolish to those people who do not understand them,&quo=
t;
she said; "but no law is ever made without some purpose, and that purp=
ose
is usually to protect all the people and guard their welfare. As you are a =
stranger,
I will explain this Law which to you seems so foolish. Years ago there were
many Witches and Magicians in the Land of Oz, and one of the things they of=
ten
used in making their magic charms and transformations was a six-leaved clov=
er. These
Witches and Magicians caused so much trouble among my people, often using t=
heir
powers for evil rather than good, that I decided to forbid anyone to practi=
ce
magic or sorcery except Glinda the Good and her assistant, the Wizard of Oz,
both of whom I can trust to use their arts only to benefit my people and to
make them happier. Since I issued that Law the Land of Oz has been far more
peaceful and quiet; but I learned that some of the Witches and Magicians we=
re
still practicing magic on the sly and using the six-leaved clovers to make
their potions and charms. Therefore I made another Law forbidding anyone fr=
om plucking
a six-leaved clover or from gathering other plants and herbs which the Witc=
hes
boil in their kettles to work magic with. That has almost put an end to wic=
ked
sorcery in our land, so you see the Law was not a foolish one, but wise and
just; and, in any event, it is wrong to disobey a Law."
Ojo knew she was right and felt greatly mortified to realize he had acted and spoken so ridiculously. But he raised his head and looked Ozma in the face, saying: <= o:p>
"I am sorry I
have acted wrongly and broken your Law. I did it to save Unc Nunkie, and
thought I would not be found out. But I am guilty of this act and whatever
punishment you think I deserve I will suffer willingly."
Ozma smiled more
brightly, then, and nodded graciously.
"You are
forgiven," she said. "For, although you have committed a serious
fault, you are now penitent and I think you have been punished enough. Sold=
ier,
release Ojo the Lucky and--"
"I beg your
pardon; I'm Ojo the Unlucky," said the boy.
"At this mom=
ent
you are lucky," said she. "Release him, Soldier, and let him go
free."
The people were g=
lad
to hear Ozma's decree and murmured their approval. As the royal audience was
now over, they began to leave the Throne Room and soon there were none
remaining except Ojo and his friends and Ozma and her favorites.
The girl Ruler now
asked Ojo to sit down and tell her all his story, which he did, beginning at
the time he had left his home in the forest and ending with his arrival at =
the
Emerald City and his arrest. Ozma listened attentively and was thoughtful f=
or
some moments after the boy had finished speaking. Then she said:
"The Crooked
Magician was wrong to make the Glass Cat and the Patchwork Girl, for it was
against the Law. And if he had not unlawfully kept the bottle of Liquid of
Petrifaction standing on his shelf, the accident to his wife Margolotte and=
to
Unc Nunkie could not have occurred. I can understand, however, that Ojo, who
loves his uncle, will be unhappy unless he can save him. Also I feel it is
wrong to leave those two victims standing as marble statues, when they ough=
t to
be alive. So I propose we allow Dr. Pipt to make the magic charm which will
save them, and that we assist Ojo to find the things he is seeking. What do=
you
think, Wizard?"
"That is per=
haps
the best thing to do," replied the Wizard. "But after the Crooked
Magician has restored those poor people to life you must take away his magic
powers."
"I will,&quo=
t;
promised Ozma.
"Now tell me,
please, what magic things must you find?" continued the Wizard, addres=
sing
Ojo.
"The three h=
airs
from the Woozy's tail I have," said the boy. "That is, I have the
Woozy, and the hairs are in his tail. The six-leaved clover I--I--"
"You may tak=
e it
and keep it," said Ozma. "That will not be breaking the Law, for =
it
is already picked, and the crime of picking it is forgiven."
"Thank
you!" cried Ojo gratefully. Then he continued: "The next thing I =
must
find is a gill of water from a dark well."
The Wizard shook =
his
head. "That," said he, "will be a hard task, but if you trav=
el
far enough you may discover it."
"I am willin=
g to
travel for years, if it will save Unc Nunkie," declared Ojo, earnestly=
.
"Then you'd
better begin your journey at once," advised the Wizard.
Dorothy had been
listening with interest to this conversation. Now she turned to Ozma and as=
ked:
"May I go with Ojo, to help him?"
"Would you l=
ike
to?" returned Ozma.
"Yes. I know=
Oz
pretty well, but Ojo doesn't know it at all. I'm sorry for his uncle and po=
or
Margolotte and I'd like to help save them. May I go?"
"If you wish
to," replied Ozma.
"If Dorothy
goes, then I must go to take care of her," said the Scarecrow, decided=
ly.
"A dark well can only be discovered in some out-of-the-way place, and
there may be dangers there."
"You have my
permission to accompany Dorothy," said Ozma. "And while you are g=
one
I will take care of the Patchwork Girl."
"I'll take c=
are
of myself," announced Scraps, "for I'm going with the Scarecrow a=
nd
Dorothy. I promised Ojo to help him find the things he wants and I'll stick=
to
my promise."
"Very
well," replied Ozma. "But I see no need for Ojo to take the Glass=
Cat
and the Woozy."
"I prefer to
remain here," said the cat. "I've nearly been nicked half a dozen
times, already, and if they're going into dangers it's best for me to keep =
away
from them."
"Let Jellia =
Jamb
keep her till Ojo returns," suggested Dorothy. "We won't need to =
take
the Woozy, either, but he ought to be saved because of the three hairs in h=
is
tail."
"Better take=
me
along," said the Woozy. "My eyes can flash fire, you know, and I =
can
growl--a little."
"I'm sure yo=
u'll
be safer here," Ozma decided, and the Woozy made no further objection =
to
the plan.
After consulting
together they decided that Ojo and his party should leave the very next day=
to
search for the gill of water from a dark well, so they now separated to make
preparations for the journey.
Ozma gave the
Munchkin boy a room in the palace for that night and the afternoon he passed
with Dorothy--getting acquainted, as she said--and receiving advice from the
Shaggy Man as to where they must go. The Shaggy Man had wandered in many pa=
rts
of Oz, and so had Dorothy, for that matter, yet neither of them knew where a
dark well was to be found.
"If such a t=
hing
is anywhere in the settled parts of Oz," said Dorothy, "we'd prob=
'ly
have heard of it long ago. If it's in the wild parts of the country, no one
there would need a dark well. P'raps there isn't such a thing."
"Oh, there m=
ust
be!" returned Ojo, positively; "or else the recipe of Dr. Pipt
wouldn't call for it."
"That's
true," agreed Dorothy; "and, if it's anywhere in the Land of Oz,
we're bound to find it."
"Well, we're
bound to search for it, anyhow," said the Scarecrow. "As for find=
ing
it, we must trust to luck."
"Don't do
that," begged Ojo, earnestly. "I'm called Ojo the Unlucky, you
know."
A day's journey f=
rom
the Emerald City brought the little band of adventurers to the home of Jack
Pumpkinhead, which was a house formed from the shell of an immense pumpkin.
Jack had made it himself and was very proud of it. There was a door, and
several windows, and through the top was stuck a stovepipe that led from a
small stove inside. The door was reached by a flight of three steps and the=
re
was a good floor on which was arranged some furniture that was quite
comfortable.
It is certain that
Jack Pumpkinhead might have had a much finer house to live in had he wanted=
it,
for Ozma loved the stupid fellow, who had been her earliest companion; but =
Jack
preferred his pumpkin house, as it matched himself very well, and in this he
was not so stupid, after all.
The body of this
remarkable person was made of wood, branches of trees of various sizes havi=
ng
been used for the purpose. This wooden framework was covered by a red
shirt--with white spots in it--blue trousers, a yellow vest, a jacket of
green-and-gold and stout leather shoes. The neck was a sharpened stick on w=
hich
the pumpkin head was set, and the eyes, ears, nose and mouth were carved on=
the
skin of the pumpkin, very like a child's jack-o'-lantern.
The house of this
interesting creation stood in the center of a vast pumpkin-field, where the
vines grew in profusion and bore pumpkins of extraordinary size as well as
those which were smaller. Some of the pumpkins now ripening on the vines we=
re
almost as large as Jack's house, and he told Dorothy he intended to add ano=
ther
pumpkin to his mansion.
The travelers were
cordially welcomed to this quaint domicile and invited to pass the night th=
ere,
which they had planned to do. The Patchwork Girl was greatly interested in =
Jack
and examined him admiringly.
"You are qui=
te
handsome," she said; "but not as really beautiful as the Scarecro=
w."
Jack turned, at t=
his,
to examine the Scarecrow critically, and his old friend slyly winked one
painted eye at him.
"There is no
accounting for tastes," remarked the Pumpkinhead, with a sigh. "An
old crow once told me I was very fascinating, but of course the bird might =
have
been mistaken. Yet I have noticed that the crows usually avoid the Scarecro=
w,
who is a very honest fellow, in his way, but stuffed. I am not stuffed, you
will observe; my body is good solid hickory."
"I adore
stuffing," said the Patchwork Girl.
"Well, as for
that, my head is stuffed with pumpkin-seeds," declared Jack. "I u=
se
them for brains, and when they are fresh I am intellectual. Just now, I reg=
ret
to say, my seeds are rattling a bit, so I must soon get another head."=
"Oh; do you
change your head?" asked Ojo.
"To be sure.
Pumpkins are not permanent, more's the pity, and in time they spoil. That is
why I grow such a great field of pumpkins--that I may select a new head
whenever necessary."
"Who carves =
the
faces on them?" inquired the boy.
"I do that
myself. I lift off my old head, place it on a table before me, and use the =
face
for a pattern to go by. Sometimes the faces I carve are better than
others--more expressive and cheerful, you know--but I think they average ve=
ry
well."
Before she had
started on the journey Dorothy had packed a knapsack with the things she mi=
ght
need, and this knapsack the Scarecrow carried strapped to his back. The lit=
tle
girl wore a plain gingham dress and a checked sunbonnet, as she knew they w=
ere
best fitted for travel. Ojo also had brought along his basket, to which Ozma
had added a bottle of "Square Meal Tablets" and some fruit. But J=
ack
Pumpkinhead grew a lot of things in his garden besides pumpkins, so he cook=
ed
for them a fine vegetable soup and gave Dorothy, Ojo and Toto, the only ones
who found it necessary to eat, a pumpkin pie and some green cheese. For beds
they must use the sweet dried grasses which Jack had strewn along one side =
of
the room, but that satisfied Dorothy and Ojo very well. Toto, of course, sl=
ept
beside his little mistress.
The Scarecrow, Sc=
raps
and the Pumpkinhead were tireless and had no need to sleep, so they sat up =
and
talked together all night; but they stayed outside the house, under the bri=
ght
stars, and talked in low tones so as not to disturb the sleepers. During the
conversation the Scarecrow explained their quest for a dark well, and asked
Jack's advice where to find it.
The Pumpkinhead
considered the matter gravely.
"That is goi=
ng
to be a difficult task," said he, "and if I were you I'd take any
ordinary well and enclose it, so as to make it dark."
"I fear that
wouldn't do," replied the Scarecrow. "The well must be naturally
dark, and the water must never have seen the light of day, for otherwise the
magic charm might not work at all."
"How much of=
the
water do you need?" asked Jack.
"A gill.&quo=
t;
"How much is=
a
gill?"
"Why--a gill=
is
a gill, of course," answered the Scarecrow, who did not wish to display
his ignorance.
"I know!&quo=
t;
cried Scraps. "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch--"
"No, no; tha=
t's
wrong," interrupted the Scarecrow. "There are two kinds of gills,=
I
think; one is a girl, and the other is--"
"A
gillyflower," said Jack.
"No; a
measure."
"How big a
measure?"
"Well, I'll =
ask
Dorothy."
So next morning t=
hey
asked Dorothy, and she said:
"I don't just
know how much a gill is, but I've brought along a gold flask that holds a p=
int.
That's more than a gill, I'm sure, and the Crooked Magician may measure it =
to
suit himself. But the thing that's bothering us most, Jack, is to find the
well."
Jack gazed around=
the
landscape, for he was standing in the doorway of his house.
"This is a f=
lat
country, so you won't find any dark wells here," said he. "You mu=
st
go into the mountains, where rocks and caverns are."
"And where is
that?" asked Ojo.
"In the Quad=
ling
Country, which lies south of here," replied the Scarecrow. "I've
known all along that we must go to the mountains."
"So have
I," said Dorothy.
"But--goodne=
ss
me!--the Quadling Country is full of dangers," declared Jack. "I'=
ve
never been there myself, but--"
"I have,&quo=
t;
said the Scarecrow. "I've faced the dreadful Hammerheads, which have no
arms and butt you like a goat; and I've faced the Fighting Trees, which bend
down their branches to pound and whip you, and had many other adventures
there."
"It's a wild
country," remarked Dorothy, soberly, "and if we go there we're su=
re
to have troubles of our own. But I guess we'll have to go, if we want that =
gill
of water from the dark well."
So they said good=
-bye
to the Pumpkinhead and resumed their travels, heading now directly toward t=
he
South Country, where mountains and rocks and caverns and forests of great t=
rees
abounded. This part of the Land of Oz, while it belonged to Ozma and owed h=
er
allegiance, was so wild and secluded that many queer peoples hid in its jun=
gles
and lived in their own way, without even a knowledge that they had a Ruler =
in
the Emerald City. If they were left alone, these creatures never troubled t=
he
inhabitants of the rest of Oz, but those who invaded their domains encounte=
red
many dangers from them.
It was a two days
journey from Jack Pumkinhead's house to the edge of the Quadling Country, f=
or
neither Dorothy nor Ojo could walk very fast and they often stopped by the
wayside to rest. The first night they slept on the broad fields, among the
buttercups and daisies, and the Scarecrow covered the children with a gauze
blanket taken from his knapsack, so they would not be chilled by the night =
air.
Toward evening of the second day they reached a sandy plain where walking w=
as difficult;
but some distance before them they saw a group of palm trees, with many cur=
ious
black dots under them; so they trudged bravely on to reach that place by da=
rk
and spend the night under the shelter of the trees.
The black dots gr=
ew
larger as they advanced and although the light was dim Dorothy thought they
looked like big kettles turned upside down. Just beyond this place a jumble=
of
huge, jagged rocks lay scattered, rising to the mountains behind them.
Our travelers
preferred to attempt to climb these rocks by daylight, and they realized th=
at
for a time this would be their last night on the plains.
Twilight had fall=
en
by the time they came to the trees, beneath which were the black, circular
objects they had marked from a distance. Dozens of them were scattered arou=
nd
and Dorothy bent near to one, which was about as tall as she was, to examin=
e it
more closely. As she did so the top flew open and out popped a dusky creatu=
re,
rising its length into the air and then plumping down upon the ground just
beside the little girl. Another and another popped out of the circular, pot=
-like
dwelling, while from all the other black objects came popping more
creatures--very like jumping-jacks when their boxes are unhooked--until ful=
ly a
hundred stood gathered around our little group of travelers.
By this time Doro=
thy
had discovered they were people, tiny and curiously formed, but still peopl=
e.
Their skins were dusky and their hair stood straight up, like wires, and was
brilliant scarlet in color. Their bodies were bare except for skins fastened
around their waists and they wore bracelets on their ankles and wrists, and
necklaces, and great pendant earrings.
Toto crouched bes=
ide
his mistress and wailed as if he did not like these strange creatures a bit.
Scraps began to mutter something about "hoppity, poppity, jumpity,
dump!" but no one paid any attention to her. Ojo kept close to the
Scarecrow and the Scarecrow kept close to Dorothy; but the little girl turn=
ed
to the queer creatures and asked:
"Who are
you?"
They answered this
question all together, in a sort of chanting chorus, the words being as
follows:
"We're the jolly
Tottenhots; We do
not like the day, But in the night =
'tis
our delight To
gambol, skip and play.
"We hate the sun =
and
from it run, The
moon is cool and clear, So on this spot e=
ach
Tottenhot W=
aits
for it to appear.
"We're ev'ry one =
chock
full of fun, And
full of mischief, too; But if you're gay=
and
with us play We'll do no harm to you.
"Glad to meet you, Tottenhots,=
"
said the Scarecrow solemnly. "But you mustn't expect us to play with y=
ou
all night, for we've traveled all day and some of us are tired."
"And we never gamble," added the Patchwork Girl. "It's against the Law." <= o:p>
These remarks were
greeted with shouts of laughter by the impish creatures and one seized the
Scarecrow's arm and was astonished to find the straw man whirl around so
easily. So the Tottenhot raised the Scarecrow high in the air and tossed him
over the heads of the crowd. Some one caught him and tossed him back, and so
with shouts of glee they continued throwing the Scarecrow here and there, a=
s if
he had been a basket-ball.
Presently another=
imp
seized Scraps and began to throw her about, in the same way. They found her=
a
little heavier than the Scarecrow but still light enough to be tossed like a
sofa-cushion, and they were enjoying the sport immensely when Dorothy, angry
and indignant at the treatment her friends were receiving, rushed among the
Tottenhots and began slapping and pushing them until she had rescued the
Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl and held them close on either side of her.
Perhaps she would not have accomplished this victory so easily had not Toto=
helped
her, barking and snapping at the bare legs of the imps until they were glad=
to
flee from his attack. As for Ojo, some of the creatures had attempted to to=
ss
him, also, but finding his body too heavy they threw him to the ground and a
row of the imps sat on him and held him from assisting Dorothy in her battl=
e.
The little brown
folks were much surprised at being attacked by the girl and the dog, and on=
e or
two who had been slapped hardest began to cry. Then suddenly they gave a sh=
out,
all together, and disappeared in a flash into their various houses, the top=
s of
which closed with a series of pops that sounded like a bunch of firecrackers
being exploded.
The adventurers n=
ow
found themselves alone, and Dorothy asked anxiously:
"Is anybody
hurt?"
"Not me,&quo=
t;
answered the Scarecrow. "They have given my straw a good shaking up and
taken all the lumps out of it. I am now in splendid condition and am really
obliged to the Tottenhots for their kind treatment."
"I feel much=
the
same way," said Scraps. "My cotton stuffing had sagged a good deal
with the day's walking and they've loosened it up until I feel as plump as a
sausage. But the play was a little rough and I'd had quite enough of it when
you interfered."
"Six of them=
sat
on me," said Ojo, "but as they are so little they didn't hurt me
much."
Just then the roo=
f of
the house in front of them opened and a Tottenhot stuck his head out, very
cautiously, and looked at the strangers.
"Can't you t=
ake
a joke?" he asked, reproachfully; "haven't you any fun in you at
all?"
"If I had su=
ch a
quality," replied the Scarecrow, "your people would have knocked =
it
out of me. But I don't bear grudges. I forgive you."
"So do I,&qu=
ot;
added Scraps. "That is, if you behave yourselves after this."
"It was just=
a
little rough-house, that's all," said the Tottenhot. "But the
question is not if we will behave, but if you will behave? We can't be shut=
up
here all night, because this is our time to play; nor do we care to come out
and be chewed up by a savage beast or slapped by an angry girl. That slappi=
ng
hurts like sixty; some of my folks are crying about it. So here's the
proposition: you let us alone and we'll let you alone."
"You began
it," declared Dorothy.
"Well, you e=
nded
it, so we won't argue the matter. May we come out again? Or are you still c=
ruel
and slappy?"
"Tell you wh=
at
we'll do," said Dorothy. "We're all tired and want to sleep until
morning. If you'll let us get into your house, and stay there until dayligh=
t,
you can play outside all you want to."
"That's a
bargain!" cried the Tottenhot eagerly, and he gave a queer whistle that
brought his people popping out of their houses on all sides. When the house
before them was vacant, Dorothy and Ojo leaned over the hole and looked in,=
but
could see nothing because it was so dark. But if the Tottenhots slept there=
all
day the children thought they could sleep there at night, so Ojo lowered
himself down and found it was not very deep.
"There's a s=
oft
cushion all over," said he. "Come on in."
Dorothy handed To=
to
to the boy and then climbed in herself. After her came Scraps and the
Scarecrow, who did not wish to sleep but preferred to keep out of the way of
the mischievous Tottenhots.
There seemed no
furniture in the round den, but soft cushions were strewn about the floor a=
nd
these they found made very comfortable beds. They did not close the hole in=
the
roof but left it open to admit air. It also admitted the shouts and ceasele=
ss
laughter of the impish Tottenhots as they played outside, but Dorothy and O=
jo,
being weary from their journey, were soon fast asleep.
Toto kept an eye
open, however, and uttered low, threatening growls whenever the racket made=
by
the creatures outside became too boisterous; and the Scarecrow and the
Patchwork Girl sat leaning against the wall and talked in whispers all night
long. No one disturbed the travelers until daylight, when in popped the
Tottenhot who owned the place and invited them to vacate his premises.
As they were
preparing to leave, Dorothy asked: "Can you tell us where there is a d=
ark
well?"
"Never heard=
of
such a thing," said the Tottenhot. "We live our lives in the dark,
mostly, and sleep in the daytime; but we've never seen a dark well, or anyt=
hing
like one."
"Does anyone
live on those mountains beyond here?" asked the Scarecrow.
"Lots of peo=
ple.
But you'd better not visit them. We never go there," was the reply.
"What are the
people like?" Dorothy inquired.
"Can't say.
We've been told to keep away from the mountain paths, and so we obey. This
sandy desert is good enough for us, and we're not disturbed here,"
declared the Tottenhot.
So they left the =
man
snuggling down to sleep in his dusky dwelling, and went out into the sunshi=
ne,
taking the path that led toward the rocky places. They soon found it hard
climbing, for the rocks were uneven and full of sharp points and edges, and=
now
there was no path at all. Clambering here and there among the boulders they
kept steadily on, gradually rising higher and higher until finally they cam=
e to
a great rift in a part of the mountain, where the rock seemed to have split=
in two
and left high walls on either side.
"S'pose we go
this way," suggested Dorothy; "it's much easier walking than to c=
limb
over the hills."
"How about t=
hat
sign?" asked Ojo.
"What
sign?" she inquired.
The Munchkin boy
pointed to some words painted on the wall of rock beside them, which Dorothy
had not noticed. The words read:
"LOOK OUT FOR
YOOP."
The girl eyed this sign a moment and
turned to the Scarecrow, asking:
"Who is Yoop=
; or
what is Yoop?"
The straw man sho=
ok
his head. Then looked at Toto and the dog said "Woof!"
"Only way to
find out is to go on," said Scraps.
This being quite
true, they went on. As they proceeded, the walls of rock on either side grew
higher and higher. Presently they came upon another sign which read:
"BEWARE THE CAPTI=
VE
YOOP."
"Why, as for that," remar=
ked
Dorothy, "if Yoop is a captive there's no need to beware of him. Whate=
ver
Yoop happens to be, I'd much rather have him a captive than running around
loose."
"So had I,&q=
uot;
agreed the Scarecrow, with a nod of his painted head.
"Still,"
said Scraps, reflectively:
"Yoop-te-hoop-te-loop-te-goop! Who put noodles i=
n the
soup? We may
beware but we don't care, And dare go where=
we
scare the Yoop."
"Dear me! Aren't you feeling a
little queer, just now?" Dorothy asked the Patchwork Girl.
"Not queer, =
but
crazy," said Ojo. "When she says those things I'm sure her brains=
get
mixed somehow and work the wrong way.
"I don't see=
why
we are told to beware the Yoop unless he is dangerous," observed the
Scarecrow in a puzzled tone.
"Never mind;
we'll find out all about him when we get to where he is," replied the
little girl.
The narrow canyon
turned and twisted this way and that, and the rift was so small that they w=
ere
able to touch both walls at the same time by stretching out their arms. Toto
had run on ahead, frisking playfully, when suddenly he uttered a sharp bark=
of
fear and came running back to them with his tail between his legs, as dogs =
do
when they are frightened.
"Ah," s= aid the Scarecrow, who was leading the way, "we must be near Yoop." <= o:p>
Just then, as he
rounded a sharp turn, the Straw man stopped so suddenly that all the others
bumped against him.
"What is
it?" asked Dorothy, standing on tip-toes to look over his shoulder. But
then she saw what it was and cried "Oh!" in a tone of astonishmen=
t.
In one of the rock
walls--that at their left--was hollowed a great cavern, in front of which w=
as a
row of thick iron bars, the tops and bottoms being firmly fixed in the solid
rock. Over this cavern was a big sign, which Dorothy read with much curiosi=
ty,
speaking the words aloud that all might know what they said:
"MISTER YOOP--HIS=
CAVE
The Largest Untamed Gi=
ant in
Captivity. Height, 21 Feet.-=
-(And
yet he has but 2 feet.) Weight, 1640
Pounds.--(But he waits all the time.) Age, 400 Years 'a=
nd Up'
(as they say in the Depar=
tment
Store advertisements). Temper, Fierce and
Ferocious.--(Except when asleep.) Appetite, Ravenou=
s.--(Prefers
Meat People and Orange
Marmalade.)
STRANGERS APPROACHING =
THIS
CAVE DO SO AT THEIR OWN P=
ERIL!
P.S.--Don't feed the G=
iant
yourself."
"Very well," said Ojo, wi=
th a
sigh; "let's go back."
"It's a long=
way
back," declared Dorothy.
"So it is,&q=
uot;
remarked the Scarecrow, "and it means a tedious climb over those sharp
rocks if we can't use this passage. I think it will be best to run by the
Giant's cave as fast as we can go. Mister Yoop seems to be asleep just
now."
But the Giant was=
n't
asleep. He suddenly appeared at the front of his cavern, seized the iron ba=
rs
in his great hairy hands and shook them until they rattled in their sockets.
Yoop was so tall that our friends had to tip their heads way back to look i=
nto
his face, and they noticed he was dressed all in pink velvet, with silver
buttons and braid. The Giant's boots were of pink leather and had tassels on
them and his hat was decorated with an enormous pink ostrich feather, caref=
ully
curled.
"Yo-ho!"=
; he
said in a deep bass voice; "I smell dinner."
"I think you=
are
mistaken," replied the Scarecrow. "There is no orange marmalade
around here."
"Ah, but I e=
at
other things," asserted Mister Yoop. "That is, I eat them when I =
can
get them. But this is a lonely place, and no good meat has passed by my cave
for many years; so I'm hungry."
"Haven't you
eaten anything in many years?" asked Dorothy.
"Nothing exc=
ept
six ants and a monkey. I thought the monkey would taste like meat people, b=
ut
the flavor was different. I hope you will taste better, for you seem plump =
and
tender."
"Oh, I'm not
going to be eaten," said Dorothy.
"Why not?&qu=
ot;
"I shall keep
out of your way," she answered.
"How
heartless!" wailed the Giant, shaking the bars again. "Consider h=
ow
many years it is since I've eaten a single plump little girl! They tell me =
meat
is going up, but if I can manage to catch you I'm sure it will soon be going
down. And I'll catch you if I can."
With this the Gia=
nt
pushed his big arms, which looked like tree-trunks (except that tree-trunks
don't wear pink velvet) between the iron bars, and the arms were so long th=
at
they touched the opposite wall of the rock passage. Then he extended them as
far as he could reach toward our travelers and found he could almost touch =
the
Scarecrow--but not quite.
"Come a litt=
le
nearer, please," begged the Giant.
"I'm a
Scarecrow."
"A Scarecrow?
Ugh! I don't care a straw for a scarecrow. Who is that bright-colored delic=
acy
behind you?"
"Me?" a=
sked
Scraps. "I'm a Patchwork Girl, and I'm stuffed with cotton."
"Dear me,&qu=
ot;
sighed the Giant in a disappointed tone; "that reduces my dinner from =
four
to two--and the dog. I'll save the dog for dessert."
Toto growled, kee=
ping
a good distance away.
"Back up,&qu=
ot;
said the Scarecrow to those behind him. "Let us go back a little way a=
nd
talk this over."
So they turned and
went around the bend in the passage, where they were out of sight of the ca=
ve
and Mister Yoop could not hear them.
"My idea,&qu=
ot;
began the Scarecrow, when they had halted, "is to make a dash past the=
cave,
going on a run."
"He'd grab
us," said Dorothy.
"Well, he ca=
n't
grab but one at a time, and I'll go first. As soon as he grabs me the rest =
of
you can slip past him, out of his reach, and he will soon let me go because=
I
am not fit to eat."
They decided to t=
ry
this plan and Dorothy took Toto in her arms, so as to protect him. She foll=
owed
just after the Scarecrow. Then came Ojo, with Scraps the last of the four.
Their hearts beat a little faster than usual as they again approached the
Giant's cave, this time moving swiftly forward.
It turned out abo=
ut
the way the Scarecrow had planned. Mister Yoop was quite astonished to see =
them
come flying toward him, and thrusting his arms between the bars he seized t=
he
Scarecrow in a firm grip. In the next instant he realized, from the way the
straw crunched between his fingers, that he had captured the non-eatable ma=
n,
but during that instant of delay Dorothy and Ojo had slipped by the Giant a=
nd
were out of reach. Uttering a howl of rage the monster threw the Scarecrow
after them with one hand and grabbed Scraps with the other.
The poor Scarecrow
went whirling through the air and so cleverly was he aimed that he struck O=
jo's
back and sent the boy tumbling head over heels, and he tripped Dorothy and =
sent
her, also, sprawling upon the ground. Toto flew out of the little girl's ar=
ms
and landed some distance ahead, and all were so dazed that it was a moment
before they could scramble to their feet again. When they did so they turne=
d to
look toward the Giant's cave, and at that moment the ferocious Mister Yoop
threw the Patchwork Girl at them.
Down went all thr=
ee
again, in a heap, with Scraps on top. The Giant roared so terribly that for=
a
time they were afraid he had broken loose; but he hadn't. So they sat in the
road and looked at one another in a rather bewildered way, and then began to
feel glad.
"We did
it!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, with satisfaction. "And now we are =
free
to go on our way."
"Mister Yoop=
is
very impolite," declared Scraps. "He jarred me terribly. It's luc=
ky
my stitches are so fine and strong, for otherwise such harsh treatment might
rip me up the back."
"Allow me to
apologize for the Giant," said the Scarecrow, raising the Patchwork Gi=
rl
to her feet and dusting her skirt with his stuffed hands. "Mister Yoop=
is
a perfect stranger to me, but I fear, from the rude manner in which he has
acted, that he is no gentleman."
Dorothy and Ojo
laughed at this statement and Toto barked as if he understood the joke, aft=
er
which they all felt better and resumed the journey in high spirits.
"Of
course," said the little girl, when they had walked a way along the pa=
ssage,
"it was lucky for us the Giant was caged; for, if he had happened to be
loose, he--he--"
"Perhaps, in
that case, he wouldn't be hungry any more," said Ojo gravely.
They must have had
good courage to climb all those rocks, for after getting out of the canyon =
they
encountered more rock hills to be surmounted. Toto could jump from one rock=
to
another quite easily, but the others had to creep and climb with care, so t=
hat
after a whole day of such work Dorothy and Ojo found themselves very tired.=
As they gazed upw=
ard
at the great mass of tumbled rocks that covered the steep incline, Dorothy =
gave
a little groan and said:
"That's goin=
g to
be a ter'ble hard climb, Scarecrow. I wish we could find the dark well with=
out
so much trouble."
"Suppose,&qu=
ot;
said Ojo, "you wait here and let me do the climbing, for it's on my
account we're searching for the dark well. Then, if I don't find anything, =
I'll
come back and join you."
"No,"
replied the little girl, shaking her head positively, "we'll all go
together, for that way we can help each other. If you went alone, something
might happen to you, Ojo."
So they began the
climb and found it indeed difficult, for a way. But presently, in creeping =
over
the big crags, they found a path at their feet which wound in and out among=
the
masses of rock and was quite smooth and easy to walk upon. As the path
gradually ascended the mountain, although in a roundabout way, they decided=
to
follow it.
"This must be
the road to the Country of the Hoppers," said the Scarecrow.
"Who are the
Hoppers?" asked Dorothy.
"Some people
Jack Pumpkinhead told me about," he replied.
"I didn't he=
ar him,"
replied the girl.
"No; you were
asleep," explained the Scarecrow. "But he told Scraps and me that=
the
Hoppers and the Horners live on this mountain."
"He said in =
the
mountain," declared Scraps; "but of course he meant on it." =
"Didn't he s=
ay
what the Hoppers and Horners were like?" inquired Dorothy.
"No; he only
said they were two separate nations, and that the Horners were the most
important."
"Well, if we=
go
to their country we'll find out all about 'em," said the girl. "B=
ut
I've never heard Ozma mention those people, so they can't be very
important."
"Is this
mountain in the Land of Oz?" asked Scraps.
"Course it
is," answered Dorothy. "It's in the South Country of the Quadling=
s.
When one comes to the edge of Oz, in any direction, there is nothing more t=
o be
seen at all. Once you could see sandy desert all around Oz; but now it's
diff'rent, and no other people can see us, any more than we can see them.&q=
uot;
"If the moun=
tain
is under Ozma's rule, why doesn't she know about the Hoppers and the Horner=
s?"
Ojo asked.
"Why, it's a
fairyland," explained Dorothy, "and lots of queer people live in
places so tucked away that those in the Emerald City never even hear of 'em=
. In
the middle of the country it's diff'rent, but when you get around the edges
you're sure to run into strange little corners that surprise you. I know, f=
or
I've traveled in Oz a good deal, and so has the Scarecrow."
"Yes,"
admitted the straw man, "I've been considerable of a traveler, in my t=
ime,
and I like to explore strange places. I find I learn much more by traveling
than by staying at home."
During this
conversation they had been walking up the steep pathway and now found
themselves well up on the mountain. They could see nothing around them, for=
the
rocks beside their path were higher than their heads. Nor could they see fa=
r in
front of them, because the path was so crooked. But suddenly they stopped,
because the path ended and there was no place to go. Ahead was a big rock l=
ying
against the side of the mountain, and this blocked the way completely.
"There would=
n't
be a path, though, if it didn't go somewhere," said the Scarecrow,
wrinkling his forehead in deep thought.
"This is
somewhere, isn't it?" asked the Patchwork Girl, laughing at the bewild=
ered
looks of the others.
"The path is lock=
ed,
the way is blocked, Yet here we've
innocently flocked; And now we're her=
e it's
rather queer There's no front =
door
that can be knocked."
"Please don't, Scraps," s=
aid
Ojo. "You make me nervous."
"Well,"
said Dorothy, "I'm glad of a little rest, for that's a drea'ful steep
path."
As she spoke she
leaned against the edge of the big rock that stood in their way. To her
surprise it slowly swung backward and showed behind it a dark hole that loo=
ked
like the mouth of a tunnel.
"Why, here's
where the path goes to!" she exclaimed.
"So it is,&q=
uot;
answered the Scarecrow. "But the question is, do we want to go where t=
he
path does?"
"It's
underground; right inside the mountain," said Ojo, peering into the da=
rk
hole. "Perhaps there's a well there; and, if there is, it's sure to be=
a
dark one."
"Why, that's
true enough!" cried Dorothy with eagerness. "Let's go in, Scarecr=
ow;
'cause, if others have gone, we're pretty safe to go, too."
Toto looked in and
barked, but he did not venture to enter until the Scarecrow had bravely gone
first. Scraps followed closely after the straw man and then Ojo and Dorothy
timidly stepped inside the tunnel. As soon as all of them had passed the big
rock, it slowly turned and filled up the opening again; but now they were no
longer in the dark, for a soft, rosy light enabled them to see around them
quite distinctly.
It was only a
passage, wide enough for two of them to walk abreast--with Toto in between
them--and it had a high, arched roof. They could not see where the light wh=
ich
flooded the place so pleasantly came from, for there were no lamps anywhere
visible. The passage ran straight for a little way and then made a bend to =
the
right and another sharp turn to the left, after which it went straight agai=
n. But
there were no side passages, so they could not lose their way.
After proceeding =
some
distance, Toto, who had gone on ahead, began to bark loudly. They ran aroun=
d a
bend to see what was the matter and found a man sitting on the floor of the
passage and leaning his back against the wall. He had probably been asleep
before Toto's barks aroused him, for he was now rubbing his eyes and starin=
g at
the little dog with all his might.
There was somethi=
ng
about this man that Toto objected to, and when he slowly rose to his foot t=
hey
saw what it was. He had but one leg, set just below the middle of his round,
fat body; but it was a stout leg and had a broad, flat foot at the bottom of
it, on which the man seemed to stand very well. He had never had but this o=
ne
leg, which looked something like a pedestal, and when Toto ran up and made a
grab at the man's ankle he hopped first one way and then another in a very
active manner, looking so frightened that Scraps laughed aloud.
Toto was usually a
well behaved dog, but this time he was angry and snapped at the man's leg a=
gain
and again. This filled the poor fellow with fear, and in hopping out of Tot=
o's
reach he suddenly lost his balance and tumbled heel over head upon the floo=
r.
When he sat up he kicked Toto on the nose and made the dog howl angrily, but
Dorothy now ran forward and caught Toto's collar, holding him back.
"Do you
surrender?" she asked the man.
"Who? Me?&qu=
ot;
asked the Hopper.
"Yes; you,&q=
uot;
said the little girl.
"Am I
captured?" he inquired.
"Of course. =
My
dog has captured you," she said.
"Well,"
replied the man, "if I'm captured I must surrender, for it's the proper
thing to do. I like to do everything proper, for it saves one a lot of
trouble."
"It does,
indeed," said Dorothy. "Please tell us who you are."
"I'm Hip
Hopper--Hip Hopper, the Champion."
"Champion
what?" she asked in surprise.
"Champion
wrestler. I'm a very strong man, and that ferocious animal which you are so
kindly holding is the first living thing that has ever conquered me." =
"And you are=
a
Hopper?" she continued.
"Yes. My peo= ple live in a great city not far from here. Would you like to visit it?" <= o:p>
"I'm not
sure," she said with hesitation. "Have you any dark wells in your
city?"
"I think not=
. We
have wells, you know, but they're all well lighted, and a well lighted well
cannot well be a dark well. But there may be such a thing as a very dark we=
ll
in the Horner Country, which is a black spot on the face of the earth."=
;
"Where is the
Horner Country?" Ojo inquired.
"The other s=
ide
of the mountain. There's a fence between the Hopper Country and the Horner
Country, and a gate in the fence; but you can't pass through just now, beca=
use
we are at war with the Horners."
"That's too
bad," said the Scarecrow. "What seems to be the trouble?"
"Why, one of
them made a very insulting remark about my people. He said we were lacking =
in
understanding, because we had only one leg to a person. I can't see that le=
gs
have anything to do with understanding things. The Horners each have two le=
gs,
just as you have. That's one leg too many, it seems to me."
"No,"
declared Dorothy, "it's just the right number."
"You don't n=
eed
them," argued the Hopper, obstinately. "You've only one head, and=
one
body, and one nose and mouth. Two legs are quite unnecessary, and they spoil
one's shape."
"But how can=
you
walk, with only one leg?" asked Ojo.
"Walk! Who w=
ants
to walk?" exclaimed the man. "Walking is a terribly awkward way to
travel. I hop, and so do all my people. It's so much more graceful and
agreeable than walking."
"I don't agr=
ee
with you," said the Scarecrow. "But tell me, is there any way to =
get
to the Horner Country without going through the city of the Hoppers?" =
"Yes; there =
is
another path from the rocky lowlands, outside the mountain, that leads stra=
ight
to the entrance of the Horner Country. But it's a long way around, so you'd
better come with me. Perhaps they will allow you to go through the gate; bu=
t we
expect to conquer them this afternoon, if we get time, and then you may go =
and
come as you please."
They thought it b=
est
to take the Hopper's advice, and asked him to lead the way. This he did in a
series of hops, and he moved so swiftly in this strange manner that those w=
ith
two legs had to run to keep up with him.
It was not long
before they left the passage and came to a great cave, so high that it must
have reached nearly to the top of the mountain within which it lay. It was a
magnificent cave, illumined by the soft, invisible light, so that everythin=
g in
it could be plainly seen. The walls were of polished marble, white with vei=
ns
of delicate colors running through it, and the roof was arched and fantastic
and beautiful.
Built beneath this
vast dome was a pretty village--not very large, for there seemed not more t=
han
fifty houses altogether--and the dwellings were of marble and artistically
designed. No grass nor flowers nor trees grew in this cave, so the yards
surrounding the houses carved in designs both were smooth and bare and had =
low
walls around them to mark their boundaries.
In the streets and
the yards of the houses were many people all having one leg growing below t=
heir
bodies and all hopping here and there whenever they moved. Even the children
stood firmly upon their single legs and never lost their balance.
"All hail,
Champion!" cried a man in the first group of Hoppers they met; "w=
hom
have you captured?"
"No one,&quo=
t;
replied the Champion in a gloomy voice; "these strangers have captured
me."
"Then,"
said another, "we will rescue you, and capture them, for we are greate=
r in
number."
"No,"
answered the Champion, "I can't allow it. I've surrendered, and it isn=
't
polite to capture those you've surrendered to."
"Never mind
that," said Dorothy. "We will give you your liberty and set you
free."
"Really?&quo=
t;
asked the Champion in joyous tones.
"Yes," =
said
the little girl; "your people may need you to help conquer the
Horners."
At this all the
Hoppers looked downcast and sad. Several more had joined the group by this =
time
and quite a crowd of curious men, women and children surrounded the strange=
rs.
"This war wi=
th
our neighbors is a terrible thing," remarked one of the women. "S=
ome
one is almost sure to get hurt."
"Why do you =
say
that, madam?" inquired the Scarecrow.
"Because the
horns of our enemies are sharp, and in battle they will try to stick those
horns into our warriors," she replied.
"How many ho=
rns
do the Horners have?" asked Dorothy.
"Each has one
horn in the center of his forehead," was the answer.
"Oh, then
they're unicorns," declared the Scarecrow.
"No; they're
Horners. We never go to war with them if we can help it, on account of their
dangerous horns; but this insult was so great and so unprovoked that our br=
ave
men decided to fight, in order to be revenged," said the woman.
"What weapon=
s do
you fight with?" the Scarecrow asked.
"We have no
weapons," explained the Champion. "Whenever we fight the Horners,=
our
plan is to push them back, for our arms are longer than theirs."
"Then you are
better armed," said Scraps.
"Yes; but th=
ey have
those terrible horns, and unless we are careful they prick us with the
points," returned the Champion with a shudder. "That makes a war =
with
them dangerous, and a dangerous war cannot be a pleasant one."
"I see very
clearly," remarked the Scarecrow, "that you are going to have tro=
uble
in conquering those Horners--unless we help you."
"Oh!" c=
ried
the Hoppers in a chorus; "can you help us? Please do! We will be great=
ly
obliged! It would please us very much!" and by these exclamations the
Scarecrow knew that his speech had met with favor.
"How far is =
it
to the Horner Country?" he asked.
"Why, it's j= ust the other side of the fence," they answered, and the Champion added: <= o:p>
"Come with m=
e,
please, and I'll show you the Horners."
So they followed =
the
Champion and several others through the streets and just beyond the village
came to a very high picket fence, built all of marble, which seemed to divi=
de
the great cave into two equal parts.
But the part
inhabited by the Horners was in no way as grand in appearance as that of the
Hoppers. Instead of being marble, the walls and roof were of dull gray rock=
and
the square houses were plainly made of the same material. But in extent the
city was much larger than that of the Hoppers and the streets were thronged
with numerous people who busied themselves in various ways.
Looking through t=
he
open pickets of the fence our friends watched the Horners, who did not know
they were being watched by strangers, and found them very unusual in
appearance. They were little folks in size and had bodies round as balls and
short legs and arms. Their heads were round, too, and they had long, pointed
ears and a horn set in the center of the forehead. The horns did not seem v=
ery
terrible, for they were not more than six inches long; but they were ivory
white and sharp pointed, and no wonder the Hoppers feared them.
The skins of the
Horners were light brown, but they wore snow-white robes and were bare-foot=
ed.
Dorothy thought the most striking thing about them was their hair, which gr=
ew
in three distinct colors on each and every head--red, yellow and green. The=
red
was at the bottom and sometimes hung over their eyes; then came a broad cir=
cle
of yellow and the green was at the top and formed a brush-shaped top-knot. =
None of the Horne=
rs was
yet aware of the presence of strangers, who watched the little brown people=
for
a time and then went to the big gate in the center of the dividing fence. It
was locked on both sides and over the latch was a sign reading:
"WAR IS DECLARED&=
quot;
"Can't we go through?" as=
ked
Dorothy.
"Not now,&qu=
ot;
answered the Champion.
"I think,&qu=
ot;
said the Scarecrow, "that if I could talk with those Horners they would
apologize to you, and then there would be no need to fight."
"Can't you t=
alk
from this side?" asked the Champion.
"Not so
well," replied the Scarecrow. "Do you suppose you could throw me =
over
that fence? It is high, but I am very light."
"We can try
it," said the Hopper. "I am perhaps the strongest man in my count=
ry,
so I'll undertake to do the throwing. But I won't promise you will land on =
your
feet."
"No matter a=
bout
that," returned the Scarecrow. "Just toss me over and I'll be
satisfied."
So the Champion
picked up the Scarecrow and balanced him a moment, to see how much he weigh=
ed,
and then with all his strength tossed him high into the air.
Perhaps if the
Scarecrow had been a trifle heavier he would have been easier to throw and
would have gone a greater distance; but, as it was, instead of going over t=
he
fence he landed just on top of it, and one of the sharp pickets caught him =
in
the middle of his back and held him fast prisoner. Had he been face downward
the Scarecrow might have managed to free himself, but lying on his back on =
the
picket his hands waved in the air of the Horner Country while his feet kick=
ed
the air of the Hopper Country; so there he was.
"Are you
hurt?" called the Patchwork Girl anxiously.
"Course
not," said Dorothy. "But if he wiggles that way he may tear his c=
lothes.
How can we get him down, Mr. Champion?"
The Champion shoo=
k his
head.
"I don't
know," he confessed. "If he could scare Horners as well as he does
crows, it might be a good idea to leave him there."
"This is
terrible," said Ojo, almost ready to cry. "I s'pose it's because =
I am
Ojo the Unlucky that everyone who tries to help me gets into trouble."=
"You are luc=
ky
to have anyone to help you," declared Dorothy. "But don't worry.
We'll rescue the Scarecrow somehow."
"I know
how," announced Scraps. "Here, Mr. Champion; just throw me up to =
the
Scarecrow. I'm nearly as light as he is, and when I'm on top the fence I'll
pull our friend off the picket and toss him down to you."
"All
right," said the Champion, and he picked up the Patchwork Girl and thr=
ew
her in the same manner he had the Scarecrow. He must have used more strength
this time, however, for Scraps sailed far over the top of the fence and,
without being able to grab the Scarecrow at all, tumbled to the ground in t=
he
Horner Country, where her stuffed body knocked over two men and a woman and
made a crowd that had collected there run like rabbits to get away from her=
.
Seeing the next
moment that she was harmless, the people slowly returned and gathered around
the Patchwork Girl, regarding her with astonishment. One of them wore a jew=
eled
star in his hair, just above his horn, and this seemed a person of importan=
ce.
He spoke for the rest of his people, who treated him with great respect.
"Who are you,
Unknown Being?" he asked.
"Scraps,&quo=
t;
she said, rising to her feet and patting her cotton wadding smooth where it=
had
bunched up.
"And where d=
id
you come from?" he continued.
"Over the fe=
nce.
Don't be silly. There's no other place I could have come from," she
replied.
He looked at her
thoughtfully.
"You are not=
a
Hopper," said he, "for you have two legs. They're not very well
shaped, but they are two in number. And that strange creature on top the
fence--why doesn't he stop kicking?--must be your brother, or father, or so=
n,
for he also has two legs."
"You must ha=
ve
been to visit the Wise Donkey," said Scraps, laughing so merrily that =
the
crowd smiled with her, in sympathy. "But that reminds me, Captain--or
King--"
"I am Chief =
of
the Horners, and my name is Jak."
"Of course;
Little Jack Horner; I might have known it. But the reason I volplaned over =
the
fence was so I could have a talk with you about the Hoppers."
"What about =
the
Hoppers?" asked the Chief, frowning.
"You've insu=
lted
them, and you'd better beg their pardon," said Scraps. "If you do=
n't,
they'll probably hop over here and conquer you."
"We're not
afraid--as long as the gate is locked," declared the Chief. "And =
we
didn't insult them at all. One of us made a joke that the stupid Hoppers
couldn't see."
The Chief smiled =
as
he said this and the smile made his face look quite jolly.
"What was the
joke?" asked Scraps.
"A Horner sa=
id
they have less understanding than we, because they've only one leg. Ha, ha!=
You
see the point, don't you? If you stand on your legs, and your legs are under
you, then--ha, ha, ha!--then your legs are your under-standing. Hee, hee, h=
ee!
Ho, ho! My, but that's a fine joke. And the stupid Hoppers couldn't see it!
They couldn't see that with only one leg they must have less under-standing
than we who have two legs. Ha, ha, ha! Hee, hee! Ho, ho!" The Chief wi=
ped
the tears of laughter from his eyes with the bottom hem of his white robe, =
and all
the other Horners wiped their eyes on their robes, for they had laughed jus=
t as
heartily as their Chief at the absurd joke.
"Then,"
said Scraps, "their understanding of the understanding you meant led to
the misunderstanding."
"Exactly; an=
d so
there's no need for us to apologize," returned the Chief.
"No need for=
an
apology, perhaps, but much need for an explanation," said Scraps
decidedly. "You don't want war, do you?"
"Not if we c=
an
help it," admitted Jak Horner. "The question is, who's going to
explain the joke to the Horners? You know it spoils any joke to be obliged =
to
explain it, and this is the best joke I ever heard."
"Who made the
joke?" asked Scraps.
"Diksey Horn=
er.
He is working in the mines, just now, but he'll be home before long. Suppos=
e we
wait and talk with him about it? Maybe he'll be willing to explain his joke=
to
the Hoppers."
"All
right," said Scraps. "I'll wait, if Diksey isn't too long." =
"No, he's sh=
ort;
he's shorter than I am. Ha, ha, ha! Say! that's a better joke than Diksey's=
. He
won't be too long, because he's short. Hee, hee, ho!"
The other Horners=
who
were standing by roared with laughter and seemed to like their Chief's joke=
as
much as he did. Scraps thought it was odd that they could be so easily amus=
ed,
but decided there could be little harm in people who laughed so merrily.
"Come with m=
e to
my dwelling and I'll introduce you to my daughters," said the Chief.
"We're bringing them up according to a book of rules that was written =
by
one of our leading old bachelors, and everyone says they're a remarkable lo=
t of
girls."
So Scraps accompa= nied him along the street to a house that seemed on the outside exceptionally gr= imy and dingy. The streets of this city were not paved nor had any attempt been made to beautify the houses or their surroundings, and having noticed this condition Scraps was astonished when the Chief ushered her into his home. <= o:p>
Here was nothing
grimy or faded, indeed. On the contrary, the room was of dazzling brilliance
and beauty, for it was lined throughout with an exquisite metal that resemb=
led
translucent frosted silver. The surface of this metal was highly ornamented=
in
raised designs representing men, animals, flowers and trees, and from the m=
etal
itself was radiated the soft light which flooded the room. All the furniture
was made of the same glorious metal, and Scraps asked what it was.
"That's
radium," answered the Chief. "We Horners spend all our time diggi=
ng
radium from the mines under this mountain, and we use it to decorate our ho=
mes
and make them pretty and cosy. It is a medicine, too, and no one can ever be
sick who lives near radium."
"Have you pl=
enty
of it?" asked the Patchwork Girl.
"More than we
can use. All the houses in this city are decorated with it, just the same as
mine is."
"Why don't y=
ou
use it on your streets, then, and the outside of your houses, to make them =
as
pretty as they are within?" she inquired.
"Outside? Who
cares for the outside of anything?" asked the Chief. "We Horners
don't live on the outside of our homes; we live inside. Many people are like
those stupid Hoppers, who love to make an outside show. I suppose you stran=
gers
thought their city more beautiful than ours, because you judged from
appearances and they have handsome marble houses and marble streets; but if=
you
entered one of their stiff dwellings you would find it bare and uncomfortab=
le,
as all their show is on the outside. They have an idea that what is not see=
n by
others is not important, but with us the rooms we live in are our chief del=
ight
and care, and we pay no attention to outside show."
"Seems to
me," said Scraps, musingly, "it would be better to make it all
pretty--inside and out."
"Seems? Why,
you're all seams, my girl!" said the Chief; and then he laughed hearti=
ly
at his latest joke and a chorus of small voices echoed the chorus with
"tee-hee-hee! ha, ha!"
Scraps turned aro=
und
and found a row of girls seated in radium chairs ranged along one wall of t=
he
room. There were nineteen of them, by actual count, and they were of all si=
zes
from a tiny child to one almost a grown woman. All were neatly dressed in
spotless white robes and had brown skins, horns on their foreheads and
three-colored hair.
"These,"
said the Chief, "are my sweet daughters. My dears, I introduce to you =
Miss
Scraps Patchwork, a lady who is traveling in foreign parts to increase her
store of wisdom."
The nineteen Horn=
er
girls all arose and made a polite curtsey, after which they resumed their s=
eats
and rearranged their robes properly.
"Why do they=
sit
so still, and all in a row?" asked Scraps.
"Because it =
is
ladylike and proper," replied the Chief.
"But some are
just children, poor things! Don't they ever run around and play and laugh, =
and
have a good time?"
"No,
indeed," said the Chief. "That would be improper in young ladies,=
as
well as in those who will sometime become young ladies. My daughters are be=
ing
brought up according to the rules and regulations laid down by a leading ba=
chelor
who has given the subject much study and is himself a man of taste and cult=
ure.
Politeness is his great hobby, and he claims that if a child is allowed to =
do
an impolite thing one cannot expect the grown person to do anything
better."
"Is it impol=
ite
to romp and shout and be jolly?" asked Scraps.
"Well, somet=
imes
it is, and sometimes it isn't," replied the Horner, after considering =
the
question. "By curbing such inclinations in my daughters we keep on the
safe side. Once in a while I make a good joke, as you have heard, and then I
permit my daughters to laugh decorously; but they are never allowed to make=
a
joke themselves."
"That old
bachelor who made the rules ought to be skinned alive!" declared Scrap=
s,
and would have said more on the subject had not the door opened to admit a
little Horner man whom the Chief introduced as Diksey.
"What's up,
Chief?" asked Diksey, winking nineteen times at the nineteen girls, who
demurely cast down their eyes because their father was looking.
The Chief told the
man that his joke had not been understood by the dull Hoppers, who had beco=
me
so angry that they had declared war. So the only way to avoid a terrible ba=
ttle
was to explain the joke so they could understand it.
"All
right," replied Diksey, who seemed a good-natured man; "I'll go a=
t once
to the fence and explain. I don't want any war with the Hoppers, for wars
between nations always cause hard feelings."
So the Chief and
Diksey and Scraps left the house and went back to the marble picket fence. =
The
Scarecrow was still stuck on the top of his picket but had now ceased to
struggle. On the other side of the fence were Dorothy and Ojo, looking betw=
een
the pickets; and there, also, were the Champion and many other Hoppers.
Diksey went close=
to
the fence and said:
"My good
Hoppers, I wish to explain that what I said about you was a joke. You have =
but
one leg each, and we have two legs each. Our legs are under us, whether one=
or
two, and we stand on them. So, when I said you had less understanding than =
we,
I did not mean that you had less understanding, you understand, but that you
had less standundering, so to speak. Do you understand that?"
The Hoppers thoug=
ht
it over carefully. Then one said:
"That is cle=
ar
enough; but where does the joke come in?'"
Dorothy laughed, =
for
she couldn't help it, although all the others were solemn enough.
"I'll tell y=
ou
where the joke comes in," she said, and took the Hoppers away to a
distance, where the Horners could not hear them. "You know," she =
then
explained, "those neighbors of yours are not very bright, poor things,=
and
what they think is a joke isn't a joke at all--it's true, don't you see?&qu=
ot;
"True that we
have less understanding?" asked the Champion.
"Yes; it's t=
rue
because you don't understand such a poor joke; if you did, you'd be no wiser
than they are."
"Ah, yes; of
course," they answered, looking very wise.
"So I'll tell
you what to do," continued Dorothy. "Laugh at their poor joke and
tell 'em it's pretty good for a Horner. Then they won't dare say you have l=
ess
understanding, because you understand as much as they do."
The Hoppers looke=
d at
one another questioningly and blinked their eyes and tried to think what it=
all
meant; but they couldn't figure it out.
"What do you
think, Champion?" asked one of them.
"I think it =
is
dangerous to think of this thing any more than we can help," he replie=
d.
"Let us do as this girl says and laugh with the Horners, so as to make
them believe we see the joke. Then there will be peace again and no need to
fight."
They readily agre=
ed
to this and returned to the fence laughing as loud and as hard as they coul=
d,
although they didn't feel like laughing a bit. The Horners were much surpri=
sed.
"That's a fi=
ne
joke--for a Horner--and we are much pleased with it," said the Champio=
n,
speaking between the pickets. "But please don't do it again."
"I won't,&qu=
ot;
promised Diksey. "If I think of another such joke I'll try to forget
it."
"Good!"
cried the Chief Horner. "The war is over and peace is declared." =
There was much jo=
yful
shouting on both sides of the fence and the gate was unlocked and thrown wi=
de
open, so that Scraps was able to rejoin her friends.
"What about =
the
Scarecrow?" she asked Dorothy.
"We must get=
him
down, somehow or other," was the reply.
"Perhaps the
Horners can find a way," suggested Ojo. So they all went through the g=
ate
and Dorothy asked the Chief Horner how they could get the Scarecrow off the
fence. The Chief didn't know how, but Diksey said:
"A ladder's =
the
thing."
"Have you
one?" asked Dorothy.
"To be sure.=
We
use ladders in our mines," said he. Then he ran away to get the ladder,
and while he was gone the Horners gathered around and welcomed the stranger=
s to
their country, for through them a great war had been avoided.
In a little while
Diksey came back with a tall ladder which he placed against the fence. Ojo =
at
once climbed to the top of the ladder and Dorothy went about halfway up and
Scraps stood at the foot of it. Toto ran around it and barked. Then Ojo pul=
led
the Scarecrow away from the picket and passed him down to Dorothy, who in t=
urn
lowered him to the Patchwork Girl.
As soon as he was=
on
his feet and standing on solid ground the Scarecrow said:
"Much oblige=
d. I
feel much better. I'm not stuck on that picket any more."
The Horners began=
to
laugh, thinking this was a joke, but the Scarecrow shook himself and patted=
his
straw a little and said to Dorothy: "Is there much of a hole in my
back?"
The little girl
examined him carefully.
"There's qui=
te a
hole," she said. "But I've got a needle and thread in the knapsack
and I'll sew you up again."
"Do so,"=
; he
begged earnestly, and again the Hoppers laughed, to the Scarecrow's great
annoyance.
While Dorothy was
sewing up the hole in the straw man's back Scraps examined the other parts =
of
him.
"One of his =
legs
is ripped, too!" she exclaimed.
"Oho!"
cried little Diksey; "that's bad. Give him the needle and thread and l=
et
him mend his ways."
"Ha, ha,
ha!" laughed the Chief, and the other Horners at once roared with
laughter.
"What's
funny?" inquired the Scarecrow sternly.
"Don't you
see?" asked Diksey, who had laughed even harder than the others.
"That's a joke. It's by odds the best joke I ever made. You walk with =
your
legs, and so that's the way you walk, and your legs are the ways. See? So, =
when
you mend your legs, you mend your ways. Ho, ho, ho! hee, hee! I'd no idea I
could make such a fine joke!"
"Just
wonderful!" echoed the Chief. "How do you manage to do it, Diksey=
?"
"I don't
know," said Diksey modestly. "Perhaps it's the radium, but I rath=
er think
it's my splendid intellect."
"If you don't
quit it," the Scarecrow told him, "there'll be a worse war than t=
he
one you've escaped from."
Ojo had been deep=
in
thought, and now he asked the Chief: "Is there a dark well in any part=
of
your country?"
"A dark well?
None that ever I heard of," was the answer.
"Oh, yes,&qu=
ot;
said Diksey, who overheard the boy's question. "There's a very dark we=
ll
down in my radium mine."
"Is there any
water in it?" Ojo eagerly asked.
"Can't say; =
I've
never looked to see. But we can find out."
So, as soon as the
Scarecrow was mended, they decided to go with Diksey to the mine. When Doro=
thy
had patted the straw man into shape again he declared he felt as good as new
and equal to further adventures.
"Still,"
said he, "I prefer not to do picket duty again. High life doesn't seem=
to
agree with my constitution." And then they hurried away to escape the
laughter of the Horners, who thought this was another joke.
They now followed
Diksey to the farther end of the great cave, beyond the Horner city, where
there were several round, dark holes leading into the ground in a slanting
direction. Diksey went to one of these holes and said:
"Here is the
mine in which lies the dark well you are seeking. Follow me and step carefu=
lly
and I'll lead you to the place."
He went in first =
and
after him came Ojo, and then Dorothy, with the Scarecrow behind her. The
Patchwork Girl entered last of all, for Toto kept close beside his little
mistress.
A few steps beyond
the mouth of the opening it was pitch dark. "You won't lose your way,
though," said the Horner, "for there's only one way to go. The mi=
ne's
mine and I know every step of the way. How's that for a joke, eh? The mine's
mine." Then he chuckled gleefully as they followed him silently down t=
he
steep slant. The hole was just big enough to permit them to walk upright,
although the Scarecrow, being much the taller of the party, often had to be=
nd
his head to keep from hitting the top.
The floor of the
tunnel was difficult to walk upon because it had been worn smooth as glass,=
and
pretty soon Scraps, who was some distance behind the others, slipped and fe=
ll
head foremost. At once she began to slide downward, so swiftly that when she
came to the Scarecrow she knocked him off his feet and sent him tumbling
against Dorothy, who tripped up Ojo. The boy fell against the Horner, so th=
at
all went tumbling down the slide in a regular mix-up, unable to see where t=
hey were
going because of the darkness.
Fortunately, when
they reached the bottom the Scarecrow and Scraps were in front, and the oth=
ers
bumped against them, so that no one was hurt. They found themselves in a va=
st
cave which was dimly lighted by the tiny grains of radium that lay scattered
among the loose rocks.
"Now," =
said
Diksey, when they had all regained their feet, "I will show you where =
the
dark well is. This is a big place, but if we hold fast to each other we won=
't
get lost."
They took hold of
hands and the Horner led them into a dark corner, where he halted.
"Be
careful," said he warningly. "The well is at your feet."
"All
right," replied Ojo, and kneeling down he felt in the well with his ha=
nd
and found that it contained a quantity of water. "Where's the gold fla=
sk,
Dorothy?" he asked, and the little girl handed him the flask, which she
had brought with her.
Ojo knelt again a=
nd
by feeling carefully in the dark managed to fill the flask with the unseen
water that was in the well. Then he screwed the top of the flask firmly in
place and put the precious water in his pocket.
"All
right!" he said again, in a glad voice; "now we can go back."=
;
They returned to = the mouth of the tunnel and began to creep cautiously up the incline. This time they made Scraps stay behind, for fear she would slip again; but they all managed to get up in safety and the Munchkin boy was very happy when he sto= od in the Horner city and realized that the water from the dark well, which he= and his friends had traveled so far to secure, was safe in his jacket pocket. <= o:p>
"Now," =
said
Dorothy, as they stood on the mountain path, having left behind them the ca=
ve
in which dwelt the Hoppers and the Horners, "I think we must find a ro=
ad
into the Country of the Winkies, for there is where Ojo wants to go next.&q=
uot;
"Is there su=
ch a
road?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I don't
know," she replied. "I s'pose we can go back the way we came, to =
Jack
Pumpkinhead's house, and then turn into the Winkie Country; but that seems =
like
running 'round a haystack, doesn't it?"
"Yes," =
said
the Scarecrow. "What is the next thing Ojo must get?"
"A yellow
butterfly," answered the boy.
"That means =
the
Winkie Country, all right, for it's the yellow country of Oz," remarked
Dorothy. "I think, Scarecrow, we ought to take him to the Tin Woodman,=
for
he's the Emp'ror of the Winkies and will help us to find what Ojo wants.&qu=
ot;
"Of
course," replied the Scarecrow, brightening at the suggestion. "T=
he Tin
Woodman will do anything we ask him, for he's one of my dearest friends. I
believe we can take a crosscut into his country and so get to his castle a =
day
sooner than if we travel back the way we came."
"I think so,
too," said the girl; "and that means we must keep to the left.&qu=
ot;
They were obliged=
to
go down the mountain before they found any path that led in the direction t=
hey
wanted to go, but among the tumbled rocks at the foot of the mountain was a
faint trail which they decided to follow. Two or three hours walk along this
trail brought them to a clear, level country, where there were a few farms =
and
some scattered houses. But they knew they were still in the Country of the
Quadlings, because everything had a bright red color. Not that the trees an=
d grasses
were red, but the fences and houses were painted that color and all the
wild-flowers that bloomed by the wayside had red blossoms. This part of the
Quadling Country seemed peaceful and prosperous, if rather lonely, and the =
road
was more distinct and easier to follow.
But just as they =
were
congratulating themselves upon the progress they had made they came upon a
broad river which swept along between high banks, and here the road ended a=
nd
there was no bridge of any sort to allow them to cross.
"This is
queer," mused Dorothy, looking at the water reflectively. "Why sh=
ould
there be any road, if the river stops everyone walking along it?"
"Wow!" =
said
Toto, gazing earnestly into her face.
"That's the =
best
answer you'll get," declared the Scarecrow, with his comical smile,
"for no one knows any more than Toto about this road."
Said Scraps:
"Ev'ry time I see=
a
river, I ha=
ve
chills that make me shiver, For I never can f=
orget All the water's v=
ery
wet. If my
patches get a soak It will be a sorry
joke; So to=
swim
I'll never try Till I find the w=
ater
dry."
"Try to control yourself,
Scraps," said Ojo; "you're getting crazy again. No one intends to
swim that river."
"No,"
decided Dorothy, "we couldn't swim it if we tried. It's too big a rive=
r,
and the water moves awful fast."
"There ought=
to
be a ferryman with a boat," said the Scarecrow; "but I don't see
any."
"Couldn't we
make a raft?" suggested Ojo.
"There's not=
hing
to make one of," answered Dorothy.
"Wow!" =
said
Toto again, and Dorothy saw he was looking along the bank of the river.
"Why, he see=
s a
house over there!" cried the little girl. "I wonder we didn't not=
ice
it ourselves. Let's go and ask the people how to get 'cross the river."=
;
A quarter of a mi=
le
along the bank stood a small, round house, painted bright red, and as it wa=
s on
their side of the river they hurried toward it. A chubby little man, dressed
all in red, came out to greet them, and with him were two children, also in=
red
costumes. The man's eyes were big and staring as he examined the Scarecrow =
and
the Patchwork Girl, and the children shyly hid behind him and peeked timidl=
y at
Toto.
"Do you live
here, my good man?" asked the Scarecrow.
"I think I d=
o,
Most Mighty Magician," replied the Quadling, bowing low; "but whe=
ther
I'm awake or dreaming I can't be positive, so I'm not sure where I live. If
you'll kindly pinch me I'll find out all about it!"
"You're
awake," said Dorothy, "and this is no magician, but just the Scar=
ecrow."
"But he's
alive," protested the man, "and he oughtn't to be, you know. And =
that
other dreadful person--the girl who is all patches--seems to be alive,
too."
"Very much
so," declared Scraps, making a face at him. "But that isn't your
affair, you know."
"I've a righ=
t to
be surprised, haven't I?" asked the man meekly.
"I'm not sur=
e;
but anyhow you've no right to say I'm dreadful. The Scarecrow, who is a
gentleman of great wisdom, thinks I'm beautiful," retorted Scraps.
"Never mind =
all
that," said Dorothy. "Tell us, good Quadling, how we can get acro=
ss
the river."
"I don't
know," replied the Quadling.
"Don't you e=
ver
cross it?" asked the girl.
"Never."=
;
"Don't trave=
lers
cross it?"
"Not to my
knowledge," said he.
They were much
surprised to hear this, and the man added: "It's a pretty big river, a=
nd
the current is strong. I know a man who lives on the opposite bank, for I've
seen him there a good many years; but we've never spoken because neither of=
us
has ever crossed over."
"That's
queer," said the Scarecrow. "Don't you own a boat?"
The man shook his
head.
"Nor a
raft?"
"Where does =
this
river go to?" asked Dorothy.
"That way,&q=
uot;
answered the man, pointing with one hand, "it goes into the Country of=
the
Winkies, which is ruled by the Tin Emperor, who must be a mighty magician
because he's all made of tin, and yet he's alive. And that way," point=
ing
with the other hand, "the river runs between two mountains where dange=
rous
people dwell."
The Scarecrow loo=
ked
at the water before them.
"The current
flows toward the Winkie Country," said he; "and so, if we had a b=
oat,
or a raft, the river would float us there more quickly and more easily than=
we
could walk."
"That is
true," agreed Dorothy; and then they all looked thoughtful and wondered
what could be done.
"Why can't t=
he
man make us a raft?" asked Ojo.
"Will you?&q=
uot;
inquired Dorothy, turning to the Quadling.
The chubby man sh=
ook
his head.
"I'm too
lazy," he said. "My wife says I'm the laziest man in all Oz, and =
she
is a truthful woman. I hate work of any kind, and making a raft is hard
work."
"I'll give y=
ou
my em'rald ring," promised the girl.
"No; I don't
care for emeralds. If it were a ruby, which is the color I like best, I mig=
ht
work a little while."
"I've got so=
me
Square Meal Tablets," said the Scarecrow. "Each one is the same a=
s a
dish of soup, a fried fish, a mutton pot-pie, lobster salad, charlotte russe
and lemon jelly--all made into one little tablet that you can swallow witho=
ut
trouble."
"Without
trouble!" exclaimed the Quadling, much interested; "then those ta=
blets
would be fine for a lazy man. It's such hard work to chew when you eat.&quo=
t;
"I'll give y=
ou
six of those tablets if you'll help us make a raft," promised the
Scarecrow. "They're a combination of food which people who eat are very
fond of. I never eat, you know, being straw; but some of my friends eat
regularly. What do you say to my offer, Quadling?"
"I'll do
it," decided the man. "I'll help, and you can do most of the work.
But my wife has gone fishing for red eels to-day, so some of you will have =
to
mind the children."
Scraps promised t=
o do
that, and the children were not so shy when the Patchwork Girl sat down to =
play
with them. They grew to like Toto, too, and the little dog allowed them to =
pat
him on his head, which gave the little ones much joy.
There were a numb=
er
of fallen trees near the house and the Quadling got his axe and chopped them
into logs of equal length. He took his wife's clothesline to bind these logs
together, so that they would form a raft, and Ojo found some strips of wood=
and
nailed them along the tops of the logs, to render them more firm. The Scare=
crow
and Dorothy helped roll the logs together and carry the strips of wood, but=
it
took so long to make the raft that evening came just as it was finished, an=
d with
evening the Quadling's wife returned from her fishing.
The woman proved =
to
be cross and bad-tempered, perhaps because she had only caught one red eel
during all the day. When she found that her husband had used her clotheslin=
e,
and the logs she had wanted for firewood, and the boards she had intended to
mend the shed with, and a lot of gold nails, she became very angry. Scraps
wanted to shake the woman, to make her behave, but Dorothy talked to her in=
a
gentle tone and told the Quadling's wife she was a Princess of Oz and a fri=
end
of Ozma and that when she got back to the Emerald City she would send them a
lot of things to repay them for the raft, including a new clothesline. This
promise pleased the woman and she soon became more pleasant, saying they co=
uld
stay the night at her house and begin their voyage on the river next mornin=
g.
This they did,
spending a pleasant evening with the Quadling family and being entertained =
with
such hospitality as the poor people were able to offer them. The man groane=
d a
good deal and said he had overworked himself by chopping the logs, but the
Scarecrow gave him two more tablets than he had promised, which seemed to
comfort the lazy fellow.
Next morning they
pushed the raft into the water and all got aboard. The Quadling man had to =
hold
the log craft fast while they took their places, and the flow of the river =
was
so powerful that it nearly tore the raft from his hands. As soon as they we=
re
all seated upon the logs he let go and away it floated and the adventurers =
had
begun their voyage toward the Winkie Country.
The little house =
of
the Quadlings was out of sight almost before they had cried their good-byes,
and the Scarecrow said in a pleased voice: "It won't take us long to g=
et
to the Winkie Country, at this rate."
They had floated
several miles down the stream and were enjoying the ride when suddenly the =
raft
slowed up, stopped short, and then began to float back the way it had come.=
"Why, what's
wrong?" asked Dorothy, in astonishment; but they were all just as
bewildered as she was and at first no one could answer the question. Soon,
however, they realized the truth: that the current of the river had reversed
and the water was now flowing in the opposite direction--toward the mountai=
ns.
They began to
recognize the scenes they had passed, and by and by they came in sight of t=
he
little house of the Quadlings again. The man was standing on the river bank=
and
he called to them:
"How do you =
do?
Glad to see you again. I forgot to tell you that the river changes its
direction every little while. Sometimes it flows one way, and sometimes the
other."
They had no time =
to
answer him, for the raft was swept past the house and a long distance on the
other side of it.
"We're going
just the way we don't want to go," said Dorothy, "and I guess the
best thing we can do is to get to land before we're carried any farther.&qu=
ot;
But they could not
get to land. They had no oars, nor even a pole to guide the raft with. The =
logs
which bore them floated in the middle of the stream and were held fast in t=
hat
position by the strong current.
So they sat still=
and
waited and, even while they were wondering what could be done, the raft slo=
wed
down, stopped, and began drifting the other way--in the direction it had fi=
rst
followed. After a time they repassed the Quadling house and the man was sti=
ll
standing on the bank. He cried out to them:
"Good day! G=
lad
to see you again. I expect I shall see you a good many times, as you go by,
unless you happen to swim ashore."
By that time they=
had
left him behind and were headed once more straight toward the Winkie Countr=
y.
"This is pre=
tty
hard luck," said Ojo in a discouraged voice. "The Trick River kee=
ps
changing, it seems, and here we must float back and forward forever, unless=
we
manage in some way to get ashore."
"Can you
swim?" asked Dorothy.
"No; I'm Ojo=
the
Unlucky."
"Neither can=
I.
Toto can swim a little, but that won't help us to get to shore."
"I don't know
whether I could swim, or not," remarked Scraps; "but if I tried it
I'd surely ruin my lovely patches."
"My straw wo=
uld
get soggy in the water and I would sink," said the Scarecrow.
So there seemed no
way out of their dilemma and being helpless they simply sat still. Ojo, who=
was
on the front of the raft, looked over into the water and thought he saw some
large fishes swimming about. He found a loose end of the clothesline which
fastened the logs together, and taking a gold nail from his pocket he bent =
it
nearly double, to form a hook, and tied it to the end of the line. Having
baited the hook with some bread which he broke from his loaf, he dropped the
line into the water and almost instantly it was seized by a great fish.
They knew it was a
great fish, because it pulled so hard on the line that it dragged the raft
forward even faster than the current of the river had carried it. The fish =
was
frightened, and it was a strong swimmer. As the other end of the clothesline
was bound around the logs he could not get it away, and as he had greedily
swallowed the gold hook at the first bite he could not get rid of that, eit=
her.
When they reached=
the
place where the current had before changed, the fish was still swimming ahe=
ad
in its wild attempt to escape. The raft slowed down, yet it did not stop,
because the fish would not let it. It continued to move in the same directi=
on
it had been going. As the current reversed and rushed backward on its cours=
e it
failed to drag the raft with it. Slowly, inch by inch, they floated on, and=
the
fish tugged and tugged and kept them going.
"I hope he w=
on't
give up," said Ojo anxiously. "If the fish can hold out until the
current changes again, we'll be all right."
The fish did not =
give
up, but held the raft bravely on its course, till at last the water in the
river shifted again and floated them the way they wanted to go. But now the
captive fish found its strength failing. Seeking a refuge, it began to drag=
the
raft toward the shore. As they did not wish to land in this place the boy c=
ut
the rope with his pocket-knife and set the fish free, just in time to preve=
nt
the raft from grounding.
The next time the
river backed up the Scarecrow managed to seize the branch of a tree that
overhung the water and they all assisted him to hold fast and prevent the r=
aft
from being carried backward. While they waited here, Ojo spied a long broken
branch lying upon the bank, so he leaped ashore and got it. When he had
stripped off the side shoots he believed he could use the branch as a pole,=
to
guide the raft in case of emergency.
They clung to the
tree until they found the water flowing the right way, when they let go and
permitted the raft to resume its voyage. In spite of these pauses they were
really making good progress toward the Winkie Country and having found a wa=
y to
conquer the adverse current their spirits rose considerably. They could see
little of the country through which they were passing, because of the high
banks, and they met with no boats or other craft upon the surface of the ri=
ver.
Once more the tri=
ck
river reversed its current, but this time the Scarecrow was on guard and us=
ed
the pole to push the raft toward a big rock which lay in the water. He beli=
eved
the rock would prevent their floating backward with the current, and so it =
did.
They clung to this anchorage until the water resumed its proper direction, =
when
they allowed the raft to drift on.
Floating around a
bend they saw ahead a high bank of water, extending across the entire river,
and toward this they were being irresistibly carried. There being no way to
arrest the progress of the raft they clung fast to the logs and let the riv=
er
sweep them on. Swiftly the raft climbed the bank of water and slid down on =
the
other side, plunging its edge deep into the water and drenching them all wi=
th
spray.
As again the raft
righted and drifted on, Dorothy and Ojo laughed at the ducking they had
received; but Scraps was much dismayed and the Scarecrow took out his
handkerchief and wiped the water off the Patchwork Girl's patches as well a=
s he
was able to. The sun soon dried her and the colors of her patches proved go=
od,
for they did not run together nor did they fade.
After passing the
wall of water the current did not change or flow backward any more but
continued to sweep them steadily forward. The banks of the river grew lower,
too, permitting them to see more of the country, and presently they discove=
red
yellow buttercups and dandelions growing amongst the grass, from which evid=
ence
they knew they had reached the Winkie Country.
"Don't you t=
hink
we ought to land?" Dorothy asked the Scarecrow.
"Pretty
soon," he replied. "The Tin Woodman's castle is in the southern p=
art
of the Winkie Country, and so it can't be a great way from here."
Fearing they might
drift too far, Dorothy and Ojo now stood up and raised the Scarecrow in the=
ir
arms, as high as they could, thus allowing him a good view of the country. =
For
a time he saw nothing he recognized, but finally he cried:
"There it is!
There it is!"
"What?"
asked Dorothy.
"The Tin
Woodman's tin castle. I can see its turrets glittering in the sun. It's qui=
te a
way off, but we'd better land as quickly as we can."
They let him down=
and
began to urge the raft toward the shore by means of the pole. It obeyed very
well, for the current was more sluggish now, and soon they had reached the =
bank
and landed safely.
The Winkie Country
was really beautiful, and across the fields they could see afar the silvery
sheen of the tin castle. With light hearts they hurried toward it, being fu=
lly
rested by their long ride on the river.
By and by they be=
gan
to cross an immense field of splendid yellow lilies, the delicate fragrance=
of
which was very delightful.
"How beautif=
ul
they are!" cried Dorothy, stopping to admire the perfection of these
exquisite flowers.
"Yes," =
said
the Scarecrow, reflectively, "but we must be careful not to crush or
injure any of these lilies."
"Why not?&qu=
ot;
asked Ojo.
"The Tin Woo=
dman
is very kind-hearted," was the reply, "and he hates to see any li=
ving
thing hurt in any way."
"Are flowers
alive?" asked Scraps.
"Yes, of cou=
rse.
And these flowers belong to the Tin Woodman. So, in order not to offend him=
, we
must not tread on a single blossom."
"Once,"
said Dorothy, "the Tin Woodman stepped on a beetle and killed the litt=
le
creature. That made him very unhappy and he cried until his tears rusted his
joints, so he couldn't move 'em."
"What did he=
do
then?" asked Ojo.
"Put oil on
them, until the joints worked smooth again."
"Oh!" exclaimed the boy, as if a great discovery had flashed across his mind. But= he did not tell anybody what the discovery was and kept the idea to himself. <= o:p>
It was a long wal=
k,
but a pleasant one, and they did not mind it a bit. Late in the afternoon t=
hey
drew near to the wonderful tin castle of the Emperor of the Winkies, and Ojo
and Scraps, who had never seen it before, were filled with amazement.
Tin abounded in t=
he
Winkie Country and the Winkies were said to be the most skillful tinsmiths =
in
all the world. So the Tin Woodman had employed them in building his magnifi=
cent
castle, which was all of tin, from the ground to the tallest turret, and so
brightly polished that it glittered in the sun's rays more gorgeously than
silver. Around the grounds of the castle ran a tin wall, with tin gates; but
the gates stood wide open because the Emperor had no enemies to disturb him=
.
When they entered=
the
spacious grounds our travelers found more to admire. Tin fountains sent spr=
ays
of clear water far into the air and there were many beds of tin flowers, al=
l as
perfectly formed as any natural flowers might be. There were tin trees, too,
and here and there shady bowers of tin, with tin benches and chairs to sit
upon. Also, on the sides of the pathway leading up to the front door of the
castle, were rows of tin statuary, very cleverly executed. Among these Ojo =
recognized
statues of Dorothy, Toto, the Scarecrow, the Wizard, the Shaggy Man, Jack
Pumpkinhead and Ozma, all standing upon neat pedestals of tin.
Toto was well
acquainted with the residence of the Tin Woodman and, being assured a joyful
welcome, he ran ahead and barked so loudly at the front door that the Tin
Woodman heard him and came out in person to see if it were really his old
friend Toto. Next moment the tin man had clasped the Scarecrow in a warm
embrace and then turned to hug Dorothy. But now his eye was arrested by the
strange sight of the Patchwork Girl, and he gazed upon her in mingled wonder
and admiration.
The Tin Woodman w=
as
one of the most important personages in all Oz. Though Emperor of the Winki=
es,
he owed allegiance to Ozma, who ruled all the land, and the girl and the tin
man were warm personal friends. He was something of a dandy and kept his tin
body brilliantly polished and his tin joints well oiled. Also he was very
courteous in manner and so kind and gentle that everyone loved him. The Emp=
eror
greeted Ojo and Scraps with cordial hospitality and ushered the entire party
into his handsome tin parlor, where all the furniture and pictures were mad=
e of
tin. The walls were paneled with tin and from the tin ceiling hung tin chan=
deliers.
The Tin Woodman
wanted to know, first of all, where Dorothy had found the Patchwork Girl, so
between them the visitors told the story of how Scraps was made, as well as=
the
accident to Margolotte and Unc Nunkie and how Ojo had set out upon a journe=
y to
procure the things needed for the Crooked Magician's magic charm. Then Doro=
thy
told of their adventures in the Quadling Country and how at last they succe=
eded
in getting the water from a dark well.
While the little =
girl
was relating these adventures the Tin Woodman sat in an easy chair listening
with intense interest, while the others sat grouped around him. Ojo, howeve=
r,
had kept his eyes fixed upon the body of the tin Emperor, and now he noticed
that under the joint of his left knee a tiny drop of oil was forming. He
watched this drop of oil with a fast-beating heart, and feeling in his pock=
et
brought out a tiny vial of crystal, which he held secreted in his hand.
Presently the Tin
Woodman changed his position, and at once Ojo, to the astonishment of all,
dropped to the floor and held his crystal vial under the Emperor's knee joi=
nt.
Just then the drop of oil fell, and the boy caught it in his bottle and
immediately corked it tight. Then, with a red face and embarrassed manner, =
he
rose to confront the others.
"What in the
world were you doing?" asked the Tin Woodman.
"I caught a =
drop
of oil that fell from your knee-joint," confessed Ojo.
"A drop of
oil!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman. "Dear me, how careless my valet =
must
have been in oiling me this morning. I'm afraid I shall have to scold the
fellow, for I can't be dropping oil wherever I go."
"Never
mind," said Dorothy. "Ojo seems glad to have the oil, for some re=
ason."
"Yes,"
declared the Munchkin boy, "I am glad. For one of the things the Crook=
ed
Magician sent me to get was a drop of oil from a live man's body. I had no
idea, at first, that there was such a thing; but it's now safe in the little
crystal vial."
"You are very
welcome to it, indeed," said the Tin Woodman. "Have you now secur=
ed
all the things you were in search of?"
"Not quite
all," answered Ojo. "There were five things I had to get, and I h=
ave
found four of them. I have the three hairs in the tip of a Woozy's tail, a
six-leaved clover, a gill of water from a dark well and a drop of oil from a
live man's body. The last thing is the easiest of all to get, and I'm sure =
that
my dear Unc Nunkie--and good Margolotte, as well--will soon be restored to
life."
The Munchkin boy =
said
this with much pride and pleasure.
"Good!"
exclaimed the Tin Woodman; "I congratulate you. But what is the fifth =
and
last thing you need, in order to complete the magic charm?"
"The left wi=
ng
of a yellow butterfly," said Ojo. "In this yellow country, and wi=
th
your kind assistance, that ought to be very easy to find."
The Tin Woodman
stared at him in amazement.
"Surely you =
are
joking!" he said.
"No,"
replied Ojo, much surprised; "I am in earnest."
"But do you
think for a moment that I would permit you, or anyone else, to pull the left
wing from a yellow butterfly?" demanded the Tin Woodman sternly.
"Why not,
sir?"
"Why not? You
ask me why not? It would be cruel--one of the most cruel and heartless deed=
s I
ever heard of," asserted the Tin Woodman. "The butterflies are am=
ong
the prettiest of all created things, and they are very sensitive to pain. To
tear a wing from one would cause it exquisite torture and it would soon die=
in
great agony. I would not permit such a wicked deed under any
circumstances!"
Ojo was astounded=
at
hearing this. Dorothy, too, looked grave and disconcerted, but she knew in =
her
heart that the Tin Woodman was right. The Scarecrow nodded his head in appr=
oval
of his friend's speech, so it was evident that he agreed with the Emperor's
decision. Scraps looked from one to another in perplexity.
"Who cares f=
or a
butterfly?" she asked.
"Don't
you?" inquired the Tin Woodman.
"Not the sna=
p of
a finger, for I have no heart," said the Patchwork Girl. "But I w=
ant
to help Ojo, who is my friend, to rescue the uncle whom he loves, and I'd k=
ill
a dozen useless butterflies to enable him to do that."
The Tin Woodman
sighed regretfully.
"You have ki=
nd
instincts," he said, "and with a heart you would indeed be a fine
creature. I cannot blame you for your heartless remark, as you cannot
understand the feelings of those who possess hearts. I, for instance, have =
a very
neat and responsive heart which the wonderful Wizard of Oz once gave me, an=
d so
I shall never--never--never permit a poor yellow butterfly to be tortured by
anyone."
"The yellow
country of the Winkies," said Ojo sadly, "is the only place in Oz
where a yellow butterfly can be found."
"I'm glad of
that," said the Tin Woodman. "As I rule the Winkie Country, I can
protect my butterflies."
"Unless I get
the wing--just one left wing--" said Ojo miserably, "I can't save=
Unc
Nunkie."
"Then he must
remain a marble statue forever," declared the Tin Emperor, firmly.
Ojo wiped his eye=
s,
for he could not hold back the tears.
"I'll tell y=
ou
what to do," said Scraps. "We'll take a whole yellow butterfly, a=
live
and well, to the Crooked Magician, and let him pull the left wing off."=
;
"No, you
won't," said the Tin Woodman. "You can't have one of my dear litt=
le
butterflies to treat in that way."
"Then what in
the world shall we do?" asked Dorothy.
They all became
silent and thoughtful. No one spoke for a long time. Then the Tin Woodman
suddenly roused himself and said:
"We must all=
go
back to the Emerald City and ask Ozma's advice. She's a wise little girl, o=
ur
Ruler, and she may find a way to help Ojo save his Unc Nunkie."
So the following
morning the party started on the journey to the Emerald City, which they
reached in due time without any important adventure. It was a sad journey f=
or
Ojo, for without the wing of the yellow butterfly he saw no way to save Unc
Nunkie--unless he waited six years for the Crooked Magician to make a new l=
ot
of the Powder of Life. The boy was utterly discouraged, and as he walked al=
ong
he groaned aloud.
"Is anything
hurting you?" inquired the Tin Woodman in a kindly tone, for the Emper=
or
was with the party.
"I'm Ojo the
Unlucky," replied the boy. "I might have known I would fail in
anything I tried to do."
"Why are you=
Ojo
the Unlucky?" asked the tin man.
"Because I w=
as
born on a Friday."
"Friday is n=
ot
unlucky," declared the Emperor. "It's just one of seven days. Do =
you
suppose all the world becomes unlucky one-seventh of the time?"
"It was the
thirteenth day of the month," said Ojo.
"Thirteen! A=
h,
that is indeed a lucky number," replied the Tin Woodman. "All my =
good
luck seems to happen on the thirteenth. I suppose most people never notice =
the
good luck that comes to them with the number 13, and yet if the least bit of
bad luck falls on that day, they blame it to the number, and not to the pro=
per
cause."
"Thirteen's =
my
lucky number, too," remarked the Scarecrow.
"And mine,&q=
uot;
said Scraps. "I've just thirteen patches on my head."
"But,"
continued Ojo, "I'm left-handed."
"Many of our
greatest men are that way," asserted the Emperor. "To be left-han=
ded
is usually to be two-handed; the right-handed people are usually
one-handed."
"And I've a =
wart
under my right arm," said Ojo.
"How
lucky!" cried the Tin Woodman. "If it were on the end of your nos=
e it
might be unlucky, but under your arm it is luckily out of the way."
"For all tho=
se
reasons," said the Munchkin boy, "I have been called Ojo the
Unlucky."
"Then we must
turn over a new leaf and call you henceforth Ojo the Lucky," declared =
the
tin man. "Every reason you have given is absurd. But I have noticed th=
at
those who continually dread ill luck and fear it will overtake them, have no
time to take advantage of any good fortune that comes their way. Make up yo=
ur
mind to be Ojo the Lucky."
"How can
I?" asked the boy, "when all my attempts to save my dear uncle ha=
ve
failed?"
"Never give =
up,
Ojo," advised Dorothy. "No one ever knows what's going to happen
next."
Ojo did not reply,
but he was so dejected that even their arrival at the Emerald City failed to
interest him.
The people joyful=
ly
cheered the appearance of the Tin Woodman, the Scarecrow and Dorothy, who w=
ere
all three general favorites, and on entering the royal palace word came to =
them
from Ozma that she would at once grant them an audience.
Dorothy told the =
girl
Ruler how successful they had been in their quest until they came to the it=
em
of the yellow butterfly, which the Tin Woodman positively refused to sacrif=
ice
to the magic potion.
"He is quite
right," said Ozma, who did not seem a bit surprised. "Had Ojo tol=
d me
that one of the things he sought was the wing of a yellow butterfly I would
have informed him, before he started out, that he could never secure it. Th=
en
you would have been saved the troubles and annoyances of your long
journey."
"I didn't mi=
nd
the journey at all," said Dorothy; "it was fun."
"As it has
turned out," remarked Ojo, "I can never get the things the Crooked
Magician sent me for; and so, unless I wait the six years for him to make t=
he
Powder of Life, Unc Nunkie cannot be saved."
Ozma smiled.
"Dr. Pipt wi=
ll
make no more Powder of Life, I promise you," said she. "I have se=
nt
for him and had him brought to this palace, where he now is, and his four
kettles have been destroyed and his book of recipes burned up. I have also =
had
brought here the marble statues of your uncle and of Margolotte, which are
standing in the next room."
They were all gre=
atly
astonished at this announcement.
"Oh, let me =
see
Unc Nunkie! Let me see him at once, please!" cried Ojo eagerly.
"Wait a
moment," replied Ozma, "for I have something more to say. Nothing
that happens in the Land of Oz escapes the notice of our wise Sorceress, Gl=
inda
the Good. She knew all about the magic-making of Dr. Pipt, and how he had
brought the Glass Cat and the Patchwork Girl to life, and the accident to U=
nc
Nunkie and Margolotte, and of Ojo's quest and his journey with Dorothy. Gli=
nda
also knew that Ojo would fail to find all the things he sought, so she sent=
for
our Wizard and instructed him what to do. Something is going to happen in t=
his
palace, presently, and that 'something' will, I am sure, please you all. An=
d now,"
continued the girl Ruler, rising from her chair, "you may follow me in=
to
the next room."
When Ojo entered =
the
room he ran quickly to the statue of Unc Nunkie and kissed the marble face
affectionately.
"I did my be=
st,
Unc," he said, with a sob, "but it was no use!"
Then he drew back=
and
looked around the room, and the sight of the assembled company quite amazed
him.
Aside from the ma=
rble
statues of Unc Nunkie and Margolotte, the Glass Cat was there, curled up on=
a
rug; and the Woozy was there, sitting on its square hind legs and looking on
the scene with solemn interest; and there was the Shaggy Man, in a suit of
shaggy pea-green satin, and at a table sat the little Wizard, looking quite
important and as if he knew much more than he cared to tell.
Last of all, Dr. =
Pipt
was there, and the Crooked Magician sat humped up in a chair, seeming very
dejected but keeping his eyes fixed on the lifeless form of his wife
Margolotte, whom he fondly loved but whom he now feared was lost to him
forever.
Ozma took a chair
which Jellia Jamb wheeled forward for the Ruler, and back of her stood the
Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and Dorothy, as well as the Cowardly Lion and the
Hungry Tiger. The Wizard now arose and made a low bow to Ozma and another l=
ess
deferent bow to the assembled company.
"Ladies and
gentlemen and beasts," he said, "I beg to announce that our Graci=
ous
Ruler has permitted me to obey the commands of the great Sorceress, Glinda =
the
Good, whose humble Assistant I am proud to be. We have discovered that the
Crooked Magician has been indulging in his magical arts contrary to Law, and
therefore, by Royal Edict, I hereby deprive him of all power to work magic =
in
the future. He is no longer a crooked magician, but a simple Munchkin; he i=
s no
longer even crooked, but a man like other men."
As he pronounced
these words the Wizard waved his hand toward Dr. Pipt and instantly every
crooked limb straightened out and became perfect. The former magician, with=
a
cry of joy, sprang to his feet, looked at himself in wonder, and then fell =
back
in his chair and watched the Wizard with fascinated interest.
"The Glass C=
at,
which Dr. Pipt lawlessly made," continued the Wizard, "is a pretty
cat, but its pink brains made it so conceited that it was a disagreeable
companion to everyone. So the other day I took away the pink brains and
replaced them with transparent ones, and now the Glass Cat is so modest and
well behaved that Ozma has decided to keep her in the palace as a pet."=
;
"I thank
you," said the cat, in a soft voice.
"The Woozy h=
as
proved himself a good Woozy and a faithful friend," the Wizard went on,
"so we will send him to the Royal Menagerie, where he will have good c=
are
and plenty to eat all his life."
"Much
obliged," said the Woozy. "That beats being fenced up in a lonely=
forest
and starved."
"As for the
Patchwork Girl," resumed the Wizard, "she is so remarkable in
appearance, and so clever and good tempered, that our Gracious Ruler intend=
s to
preserve her carefully, as one of the curiosities of the curious Land of Oz.
Scraps may live in the palace, or wherever she pleases, and be nobody's ser=
vant
but her own."
"That's all
right," said Scraps.
"We have all
been interested in Ojo," the little Wizard continued, "because his
love for his unfortunate uncle has led him bravely to face all sorts of
dangers, in order that he might rescue him. The Munchkin boy has a loyal and
generous heart and has done his best to restore Unc Nunkie to life. He has
failed, but there are others more powerful than the Crooked Magician, and t=
here
are more ways than Dr. Pipt knew of to destroy the charm of the Liquid of
Petrifaction. Glinda the Good has told me of one way, and you shall now lea=
rn
how great is the knowledge and power of our peerless Sorceress."
As he said this t=
he
Wizard advanced to the statue of Margolote and made a magic pass, at the sa=
me
time muttering a magic word that none could hear distinctly. At once the wo=
man
moved, turned her head wonderingly this way and that, to note all who stood
before her, and seeing Dr. Pipt, ran forward and threw herself into her
husband's outstretched arms.
Then the Wizard m=
ade
the magic pass and spoke the magic word before the statue of Unc Nunkie. The
old Munchkin immediately came to life and with a low bow to the Wizard said:
"Thanks."
But now Ojo rushe=
d up
and threw his arms joyfully about his uncle, and the old man hugged his lit=
tle
nephew tenderly and stroked his hair and wiped away the boy's tears with a
handkerchief, for Ojo was crying from pure happiness.
Ozma came forward=
to
congratulate them.
"I have give=
n to
you, my dear Ojo and Unc Nunkie, a nice house just outside the walls of the
Emerald City," she said, "and there you shall make your future ho=
me
and be under my protection."
"Didn't I say
you were Ojo the Lucky?" asked the Tin Woodman, as everyone crowded ar=
ound
to shake Ojo's hand.
"Yes; and it=
is
true!" replied Ojo, gratefully.