The Patchwork Girl of Oz

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THE PATCHWORK GIRL OF OZ

by

L. FRANK BAUM

Affectionately Dedicated to my young friend
Sumner Hamilton Britton of Chicago

Prologue

Through the kindness of Dorothy Gale of Kansas,best calming toys for christmas afterward PrincessDorothy of Oz, an humble writer in the United States of America wasonce appointed Royal Historian of Oz, with the privilege of writing thechronicle of that wonderful fairyland. But after making six books aboutthe adventures of those interesting but queer people who live in theLand of Oz, the Historian learned with sorrow that by an edict of theSupreme Ruler, Ozma of Oz, her country would thereafter be renderedinvisible to all who lived outside its borders and that allcommunication with Oz would, in the future, be cut off.

The children who had learned to look for the books about Oz and wholoved the stories about the gay and happy people inhabiting thatfavored country, were as sorry as their Historian that there would beno more books of Oz stories. They wrote many letters asking if theHistorian did not know of some adventures to write about that hadhappened before the Land of Oz was shut out from all the rest of theworld. But he did not know of any. Finally one of the children inquiredwhy we couldn't hear from Princess Dorothy by wireless telegraph, whichwould enable her to communicate to the Historian whatever happened inthe far-off Land of Oz without his seeing her, or even knowing justwhere Oz is.

That seemed a good idea; so the Historian rigged up a high tower in hisback yard, and took lessons in wireless telegraphy until he understoodit, and then began to call "Princess Dorothy of Oz" by sending messagesinto the air.

Now, it wasn't likely that Dorothy would be looking for wirelessmessages or would heed the call; but one thing the Historian was sureof, and that was that the powerful Sorceress, Glinda, would know whathe was doing and that he desired to communicate with Dorothy. ForGlinda has a big book in which is recorded every event that takes placeanywhere in the world, just the moment that it happens, and so ofcourse the book would tell her about the wireless message.

And that was the way Dorothy heard that the Historian wanted to speakwith her, and there was a Shaggy Man in the Land of Oz who knew how totelegraph a wireless reply. The result was that the Historian begged sohard to be told the latest news of Oz, so that he could write it downfor the children to read, that Dorothy asked permission of Ozma andOzma graciously consented.

That is why, after two long years of waiting, another Oz story is nowpresented to the children of America. This would not have been possiblehad not some clever man invented the "wireless" and an equally cleverchild suggested the idea of reaching the mysterious Land of Oz by itsmeans.

L. Frank Baum.

"OZCOT"
     at Hollywood
         in California

LIST OF CHAPTERS

The Patchwork Girl of Oz

Chapter One

Ojo and Unc Nunkie

"Where's the butter, Unc Nunkie?" asked Ojo.

Unc looked out of the window and stroked his long beard. Then he turnedto the Munchkin boy and shook his head.

"Isn't," said he.

"Isn't any butter? That's too bad, Unc. Where's the jam then?" inquiredOjo, standing on a stool so he could look through all the shelves ofthe cupboard. But Unc Nunkie shook his head again.

"Gone," he said.

"No jam, either? 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 thedry bread slowly and seeming in deep thought.

"Nothing grows in our yard but the bread tree," he mused, "and thereare only two more loaves on that tree; and they're not ripe yet. Tellme, Unc; why are we so poor?"

The old Munchkin turned and looked at Ojo. He had kindly eyes, but hehadn't smiled or laughed in so long that the boy had forgotten that UncNunkie could look any other way than solemn. And Unc never spoke anymore words than he was obliged to, so his little nephew, who livedalone 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 yourshare, Unc. It's on the table, so you can eat it when you get hungry.But when that is gone, what shall we eat, Unc?"

The old man shifted in his chair but merely shook his head.

"Of course," said Ojo, who was obliged to talk because his uncle wouldnot, "no one starves in the Land of Oz, either. There is plenty foreveryone, you know; only, if it isn't just where you happen to be, youmust go where it is."

The aged Munchkin wriggled again and stared at his small nephew as ifdisturbed by his argument.

"By to-morrow morning," the boy went on, "we must go where there issomething 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 mustknow, Unc. You must have traveled, in your time, because you're so old.I don't remember it, because ever since I could remember anything we'velived right here in this lonesome, round house, with a little gardenback of it and the thick woods all around. All I've ever seen of thegreat Land of Oz, Unc dear, is the view of that mountain over at thesouth, where they say the Hammerheads live—who won't let anybody go bythem—and that mountain at the north, where they say nobody lives."

"One," declared Unc, correcting him.

"Oh, yes; one family lives there, I've heard. That's the CrookedMagician, who is named Dr. Pipt, and his wife Margolotte. One year youtold me about them; I think it took you a whole year, Unc, to say asmuch as I've just said about the Crooked Magician and his wife. Theylive high up on the mountain, and the good Munchkin Country, where thefruits and flowers grow, is just the other side. It's funny you and Ishould 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 besideswoods, Unc Nunkie."

"Too little," said Unc.

"Why, I'm not so little as I used to be," answered the boy earnestly."I think I can walk as far and as fast through the woods as you can,Unc. And now that nothing 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 andturned his chair to face the room, for the sun was sinking behind thetree-tops and it was growing cool.

By and by Ojo lighted the fire and the logs blazed freely in the broadfireplace. The two sat in the firelight a long time—the old,white-bearded Munchkin and the little boy. Both were thinking. When itgrew quite dark outside, Ojo said:

"Eat your bread, Unc, and then we will go to bed."

But Unc Nunkie did not eat the bread; neither did he go directly tobed. Long after his little nephew was sound asleep in the corner of theroom the old man sat by the fire, thinking.

Chapter Two

The Crooked Magician

Just at dawn next morning Unc Nunkie laid his hand tenderly on Ojo'shead and awakened him.

"Come," he said.

Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk stockings, blue knee pants with goldbuckles, a blue ruffled waist and a jacket of bright blue braided withgold. His shoes were of blue leather and turned up at the toes, whichwere pointed. His hat had a peaked crown and a flat brim, and aroundthe brim was a row of tiny golden bells that tinkled when he moved.This was the native costume of those who inhabited the Munchkin Countryof the Land of Oz, so Unc Nunkie's dress was much like that of hisnephew. Instead of shoes, the old man wore boots with turnover tops andhis blue coat had wide cuffs of gold braid.

The boy noticed that his uncle had not eaten the bread, and supposedthe old man had not been hungry. Ojo was hungry, though; so he dividedthe piece of bread upon the table and ate his half for breakfast,washing it down with fresh, cool water from the brook. Unc put theother piece of bread in his jacket pocket, after which he again said,as he walked out through the doorway: "Come."

Ojo was well pleased. He was dreadfully tired of living all alone inthe woods and wanted to travel and see people. For a long time he hadwished to explore the beautiful Land of Oz in which they lived. Whenthey were outside, Unc simply latched the door and started up the path.No one would disturb their little house, even if anyone came so farinto the thick forest while they were gone.

At the foot of the mountain that separated the Country of the Munchkinsfrom the Country of the Gillikins, the path divided. One way led to theleft and the other to the right—straight up the mountain. Unc Nunkietook this right-hand path and Ojo followed without asking why. He knewit would take them to the house of the Crooked Magician, whom he hadnever seen but who was their nearest neighbor.

All the morning they trudged up the mountain path and at noon Unc andOjo sat on a fallen tree-trunk and ate the last of the bread which theold Munchkin had placed in his pocket. Then they started on again andtwo hours later came in sight of the house of Dr. Pipt.

It was a big house, round, as were all the Munchkin houses, and paintedblue, which is the distinctive color of the Munchkin Country of Oz.There was a pretty garden around the house, where blue trees and blueflowers grew in abundance and in one place were beds of blue cabbages,blue carrots and blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. InDr. Pipt's garden grew bun-trees, cake-trees, cream-puff bushes, bluebuttercups which yielded excellent blue butter and a row ofchocolate-caramel plants. Paths of blue gravel divided the vegetableand flower beds and a wider path led up to the front door. The placewas in a clearing on the mountain, but a little way off was the grimforest, which completely surrounded it.

Unc knocked at the door of the house and a chubby, pleasant-facedwoman, dressed all in blue, opened it and greeted the visitors with asmile.

"Ah," said Ojo; "you must be Dame Margolotte, the good wife of Dr.Pipt."

"I am, my dear, 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. "Butcome in and let me give you something to eat, for you must havetraveled far in order to get our lonely place."

"We have," replied Ojo, as he and Unc entered the house. "We have comefrom a far lonelier place than this."

"A lonelier place! And in the Munchkin Country?" she exclaimed. "Thenit must be somewhere in the Blue Forest."

"It is, good Dame Margolotte."

"Dear me!" she said, looking at the man, "you must be Unc Nunkie, knownas the Silent One." Then she looked at the boy. "And you must be Ojothe Unlucky," she added.

"Yes," said Unc.

"I never knew I was called the Unlucky," said Ojo, soberly; "but it isreally a good name for me."

"Well," remarked the woman, as she bustled around the room and set thetable and brought food from the cupboard, "you were unlucky to live allalone in that dismal forest, which is much worse than the forest aroundhere; 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 beginningof your name 'Unlucky,' you will then become Ojo the Lucky, which willbe a great improvement."

"How can I lose that 'Un,' Dame Margolotte?"

"I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind and perhapsthe chance will come to you," she replied.

Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life. There was asavory stew, smoking hot, a dish of blue peas, a bowl of sweet milk ofa delicate blue tint and a blue pudding with blue plums in it. When thevisitors 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 head.

"We are traveling," replied Ojo, "and we stopped at your house just torest and refresh ourselves. I do not think Unc Nunkie cares very muchto see the famous Crooked Magician; but for my part I am curious tolook at such a great man."

The woman seemed thoughtful.

"I remember that Unc Nunkie and my husband used to be friends, manyyears ago," she said, "so perhaps they will be glad to meet again. TheMagician is very busy, as I said, but if you will promise not todisturb him you may come into his workshop and watch him prepare awonderful charm."

"Thank you," replied the boy, much pleased. "I would like to do that."

She led the way to a great domed hall at the back of the house, whichwas the Magician's workshop. There was a row of windows extendingnearly around the sides of the circular room, which rendered the placevery light, and there was a back door in addition to the one leading tothe front part of the house. Before the row of windows a broad seat wasbuilt and there were some chairs and benches in the room besides. Atone end stood a great fireplace, in which a blue log was blazing with ablue flame, and over the fire hung four kettles in a row, all bubblingand steaming at a great rate. The Magician was stirring all four ofthese kettles at the same time, two with his hands and two with hisfeet, to the latter, wooden ladles being strapped, for this man was sovery crooked that his legs were as handy as his arms.

Unc Nunkie came forward to greet his old friend, but not being able toshake either his hands or his feet, which were all occupied instirring, he patted the Magician's bald head and asked: "What?"

"Ah, it's the Silent One," remarked Dr. Pipt, without looking up, "andhe wants to know what I'm making. Well, when it is quite finished thiscompound will be the wonderful Powder of Life, which no one knows howto make but myself. Whenever it is sprinkled on anything, that thingwill at once come to life, no matter what it is. It takes me severalyears to make this magic Powder, but at this moment I am pleased to sayit 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 makeyourself comfortable, Unc Nunkie, and after I've finished my task Iwill talk to you."

"You must know," said Margolotte, when they were all seated together onthe broad window-seat, "that my husband foolishly gave away all thePowder of Life he first made to old Mombi the Witch, who used to livein the Country of the Gillikins, to the north of here. Mombi gave toDr. Pipt a Powder of Perpetual Youth in exchange for his Powder ofLife, but she cheated him wickedly, for the Powder of Youth was no goodand 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 ourGlass Cat, which not only began to live but has lived ever since. She'ssomewhere around the house now."

"A Glass Cat!" exclaimed Ojo, astonished.

"Yes; she makes a very pleasant companion, but admires herself a littlemore than is considered modest, and she positively refuses to catchmice," explained Margolotte. "My husband made the cat some pink brains,but they proved to be too high-bred and particular for a cat, so shethinks it is undignified in her to catch mice. Also she has a prettyblood-red heart, but it is made of stone—a ruby, I think—and so israther hard and unfeeling. I think the next Glass Cat the Magicianmakes will have neither brains nor heart, for then it will not objectto catching mice and may prove of some use to us."

"What did old Mombi the Witch do with the Powder of Life your husbandgave her?" asked the boy.

"She brought Jack Pumpkinhead to life, for one thing," was the reply."I suppose you've heard of Jack Pumpkinhead. He is now living near theEmerald City and is a great favorite with the Princess Ozma, who rulesall the Land of Oz."

"No; I've never heard of him," remarked Ojo. "I'm afraid I don't knowmuch about the Land of Oz. You see, I've lived all my life with UncNunkie, 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 asympathetic tone. "The more one knows, the luckier he is, for knowledgeis the greatest gift in life."

"But tell me, please, what you intend to do with this new lot of thePowder of Life, which Dr. Pipt is making. He said his wife wanted itfor some especial purpose."

"So I do," she answered. "I want it to bring my Patchwork Girl to life."

"Oh! A Patchwork Girl? What is that?" Ojo asked, for this seemed evenmore strange and unusual than a Glass Cat.

"I think I must show you my Patchwork Girl," said Margolotte, laughingat the boy's astonishment, "for she is rather difficult to explain. Butfirst I will tell you that for many years I have longed for a servantto help me with the housework and to cook the meals and wash thedishes. No servant will come here because the place is so lonely andout-of-the-way, so my clever husband, the Crooked Magician, proposedthat I make a girl out of some sort of material and he would make herlive by sprinkling over her the Powder of Life. This seemed anexcellent suggestion and at once Dr. Pipt set to work to make a newbatch of his magic powder. He has been at it a long, long while, and soI have had plenty of time to make the girl. Yet that task was not soeasy 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 patchworkquilt, 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, soa patchwork quilt is a very pretty and gorgeous thing to look at.Sometimes it is called a 'crazy-quilt,' because the patches and colorsare so mixed up. We never have used my grandmother's many-coloredpatchwork quilt, handsome as it is, for we Munchkins do not care forany color other than blue, so it has been packed away in the chest forabout a hundred years. When I found it, I said to myself that it woulddo nicely for my servant girl, for when she was brought to life shewould not be proud nor haughty, as the Glass Cat is, for such adreadful mixture of colors would discourage her from trying to be asdignified 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 otherparts of Oz the people favor different colors. At the Emerald City,where our Princess Ozma lives, green is the popular color. But allMunchkins prefer blue to anything else and when my housework girl isbrought to life she will find herself to be of so many unpopular colorsthat she'll never dare be rebellious or impudent, as servants aresometimes liable to be when they are made the same way their mistressesare."

Unc Nunkie nodded approval.

"Good i-dea," he said; and that was a long speech for Unc Nunkiebecause it was two words.

"So I cut up the quilt," continued Margolotte, "and made from it a verywell-shaped girl, which I stuffed with cotton-wadding. I will show youwhat a good job I did," and she went to a tall cupboard and threw openthe doors.

Then back she came, lugging in her arms the Patchwork Girl, which sheset upon the bench and propped up so that the figure would not tumbleover.

Chapter Three

The Patchwork Girl

Ojo examined this curious contrivance with wonder. The Patchwork Girlwas taller than he, when she stood upright, and her body was plump androunded because it had been so neatly stuffed with cotton. Margolottehad first made the girl's form from the patchwork quilt and then shehad dressed it with a patchwork skirt and an apron with pockets init—using the same gay material throughout. Upon the feet she had sewna pair of red leather shoes with pointed toes. All the fingers andthumbs of the girl's hands had been carefully formed and stuffed andstitched at the edges, with gold plates at the ends to serve asfinger-nails.

"She will have to work, when she comes to life," said Margolotte.

The head of the Patchwork Girl was the most curious part of her. Whileshe waited for her husband to finish making his Powder of Life thewoman had found ample time to complete the head as her fancy dictated,and she realized that a good servant's head must be properlyconstructed. The hair was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck inseveral neat braids. Her eyes were two silver suspender-buttons cutfrom a pair of the Magician's old trousers, and they were sewed on withblack threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. Margolotte hadpuzzled over the ears for some time, for these were important if theservant was to hear distinctly, but finally she had made them out ofthin plates of gold and attached them in place by means of stitchesthrough tiny holes bored in the metal. Gold is the most common metal inthe Land of Oz and is used for many purposes because it is soft andpliable.

The woman had cut a slit for the Patchwork Girl's mouth and sewn tworows of white pearls in it for teeth, using a strip of scarlet plushfor a tongue. This mouth Ojo considered very artistic and lifelike, andMargolotte was pleased when the boy praised it. There were almost toomany patches on the face of the girl for her to be considered strictlybeautiful, for one cheek was yellow and the other red, her chin blue,her forehead purple and the center, where her nose had been formed andpadded, a bright yellow.

"You ought to have had her face all pink," suggested the boy.

"I suppose so; but I had no pink cloth," replied the woman. "Still, Icannot see as it matters much, for I wish my Patchwork Girl to beuseful rather than ornamental. If I get tired looking at her patchedface I can whitewash it."

"Has she any brains?" asked Ojo.

"No; I forgot all about the brains!" exclaimed the woman. "I am gladyou reminded me of them, for it is not too late to supply them, by anymeans. Until she is brought to life I can do anything I please withthis girl. But I must be careful not to give her too much brains, andthose she has must be such as are fitted to the station she is tooccupy in life. In other words, her brains mustn't be very good."

"Wrong," said Unc Nunkie.

"No; I am sure I am right about that," returned the woman.

"He means," explained Ojo, "that unless your servant has good brainsshe won't know how to obey you properly, nor do the things you ask herto do."

"Well, that may be true," agreed Margolotte; "but, on the contrary, aservant with too much brains is sure to become independent andhigh-and-mighty and feel above her work. This is a very delicate task,as I said, and I must take care to give the girl just the rightquantity of the right sort of brains. I want her to know just enough,but not too much."

With this she went to another cupboard which was filled with shelves.All the shelves were lined with blue glass bottles, neatly labeled bythe Magician to show what they contained. One whole shelf was marked:"Brain Furniture," and the bottles on this shelf were labeled asfollows: "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 thatlabel and poured from it upon a dish several grains of the contents."'Amiability' is also good and 'Truth.'" She poured into the dish aquantity from each of these bottles. "I think that will do," shecontinued, "for the other qualities are not needed in a servant."

Unc Nunkie, who with Ojo stood beside her, touched the bottle marked"Cleverness."

"Little," said he.

"A little 'Cleverness'? Well, perhaps you are right, sir," said she,and was about to take down the bottle when the Crooked Magiciansuddenly 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 fourkettles from the fire. Their contents had all boiled away, leaving inthe bottom of each kettle a few grains of fine white powder. Verycarefully the Magician removed this powder, placing it all together ina golden dish, where he mixed it with a golden spoon. When the mixturewas complete there was scarcely a handful, all told.

"That," said Dr. Pipt, in a pleased and triumphant tone, "is thewonderful Powder of Life, which I alone in the world know how to make.It has taken me nearly six years to prepare these precious grains ofdust, but the little heap on that dish is worth the price of a kingdomand many a king would give all he has to possess it. When it has becomecooled I will place it in a small bottle; but meantime I must watch itcarefully, lest a gust of wind blow it away or scatter it."

Unc Nunkie, Margolotte and the Magician all stood looking at themarvelous Powder, but Ojo was more interested just then in thePatchwork Girl's brains. Thinking it both unfair and unkind to depriveher of any good qualities that were handy, the boy took down everybottle on the shelf and poured some of the contents in Margolotte'sdish. No one saw him do this, for all were looking at the Powder ofLife; but soon the woman remembered what she had been doing, and cameback to the cupboard.

"Let's see," she remarked; "I was about to give my girl a little'Cleverness,' which is the Doctor's substitute for 'Intelligence'—aquality he has not yet learned how to manufacture." Taking down thebottle of "Cleverness" she added some of the powder to the heap on thedish. Ojo became a bit uneasy at this, for he had already put quite alot of the "Cleverness" powder in the dish; but he dared not interfereand so he comforted himself with the thought that one cannot have toomuch cleverness.

Margolotte now carried the dish of brains to the bench. Ripping theseam of the patch on the girl's forehead, she placed the powder withinthe 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 toher husband. But the Magician replied:

"This powder must not be used before to-morrow morning; but I think itis now cool enough to be bottled."

He selected a small gold bottle with a pepper-box top, so that thepowder might be sprinkled on any object through the small holes. Verycarefully he placed the Powder of Life in the gold bottle and thenlocked it up in a drawer of his cabinet.

"At last," said he, rubbing his hands together gleefully, "I have ampleleisure for a good talk with my old friend Unc Nunkie. So let us sitdown cosily and enjoy ourselves. After stirring those four kettles forsix years I am glad to have a little rest."

"You will have to do most of the talking," said Ojo, "for Unc is calledthe Silent One and uses few words."

"I know; but that renders your uncle a most agreeable companion andgossip," declared Dr. Pipt. "Most people talk too much, so it is arelief to find one who talks too little."

Ojo looked at the Magician with much awe and curiosity.

"Don't you find it very annoying to be so crooked?" he asked.

"No; I am quite proud of my person," was the reply. "I suppose I am theonly Crooked Magician in all the world. Some others are accused ofbeing crooked, but I am the only genuine."

He was really very crooked and Ojo wondered how he managed to do somany things with such a twisted body. When he sat down upon a crookedchair that had been made to fit him, one knee was under his chin andthe other near the small of his back; but he was a cheerful man and hisface bore a pleasant and agreeable expression.

"I am not allowed to perform magic, except for my own amusement," hetold his visitors, as he lighted a pipe with a crooked stem and beganto smoke. "Too many people were working magic in the Land of Oz, and soour lovely Princess Ozma put a stop to it. I think she was quite right.There were several wicked Witches who caused a lot of trouble; but nowthey are all out of business and only the great Sorceress, Glinda theGood, is permitted to practice her arts, which never harm anybody. TheWizard of Oz, who used to be a humbug and knew no magic at all, hasbeen taking lessons of Glinda, and I'm told he is getting to be apretty good Wizard; but he is merely the assistant of the greatSorceress. 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 amforbidden 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 somemagical feats that were worthy of the skill of Glinda the Good. Forinstance, there's the Powder of Life, and my Liquid of Petrifaction,which is contained in that bottle on the shelf yonder—over the window."

"What does the Liquid of Petrifaction do?" inquired the boy.

"Turns everything it touches to solid marble. It's an invention of myown, and I find it very useful. Once two of those dreadful Kalidahs,with bodies like bears and heads like tigers, came here from the forestto attack us; but I sprinkled some of that Liquid on them and instantlythey turned to marble. I now use them as ornamental statuary in mygarden. This table looks to you like wood, and once it really was wood;but I sprinkled a few drops of the Liquid of Petrifaction on it and nowit is marble. It will never break nor wear out."

"Fine!" said Unc Nunkie, wagging his head and stroking his long graybeard.

"Dear me; what a chatterbox you're getting to be, Unc," remarked theMagician, who was pleased with the compliment. But just then there camea scratching at the back 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 thevoice, in scornful 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 shortat the sight of strangers. Ojo and Unc Nunkie both stared at it withwide open eyes, for surely no such curious creature had ever existedbefore—even in the Land of Oz.

Chapter Four

The Glass Cat

The cat was made of glass, so clear and transparent that you could seethrough it as easily as through a window. In the top of its head,however, was a mass of delicate pink balls which looked like jewels,and it had a heart made of a blood-red ruby. The eyes were two largeemeralds, but aside from these colors all the rest of the animal wasclear glass, and it had a spun-glass tail that was really beautiful.

"Well, Doc Pipt, do you mean to introduce us, or not?" demanded thecat, in a tone of annoyance. "Seems to me you are forgetting yourmanners."

"Excuse me," returned the Magician. "This is Unc Nunkie, the descendantof the former kings of the Munchkins, before this country became a partof 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," theMagician explained; "and, although that is a barbarous country, thereare no barbers there."

"Who is the dwarf?" asked the cat.

"That is not a dwarf, but a boy," answered the Magician. "You havenever seen a boy before. He is now small because he is young. With moreyears he will grow big 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 artknown to man. For instance, my magic made you, and made you live; andit was a poor job because you are useless and a bother to me; but Ican't make you grow. You will always be the same size—and the samesaucy, inconsiderate Glass Cat, with pink brains and a hard ruby heart."

"No one can regret more than I the fact that you made me," asserted thecat, crouching upon the floor and slowly swaying its spun-glass tailfrom side to side. "Your world is a very uninteresting place. I'vewandered through your gardens and in the forest until I'm tired of itall, and when I come into the house the conversation of your fat wifeand of yourself bores me dreadfully."

"That is because I gave you different brains from those we ourselvespossess—and much too good for a cat," returned Dr. Pipt.

"Can't you take 'em out, then, and replace 'em with pebbles, so that Iwon't feel above my station in life?" asked the cat, pleadingly.

"Perhaps so. I'll try it, after I've brought the Patchwork Girl tolife," he said.

The cat walked up to the bench on which the Patchwork Girl reclined andlooked at her attentively.

"Are you going to make that dreadful thing live?" she asked.

The Magician nodded.

"It is intended to be my wife's servant maid," he said. "When she isalive she will do all our work and mind the house. But you are not toorder her around, Bungle, as you do us. You must treat the PatchworkGirl respectfully."

"I won't. I couldn't respect such a bundle of scraps under anycircumstances."

"If you don't, there will be more scraps than you will like," criedMargolotte, angrily.

"Why didn't you make her pretty to look at?" asked the cat. "You mademe pretty—very pretty, indeed—and I love to watch my pink brains rollaround 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 air of much pride. "But that poor patchedthing will hate herself, when she's once alive," continued the cat. "IfI were you I'd use her for a mop, and make another servant that isprettier."

"You have a perverted taste," snapped Margolotte, much annoyed at thisfrank criticism. "I think the Patchwork Girl is beautiful, consideringwhat she's made of. Even the rainbow hasn't as many colors, and youmust admit that the rainbow is a pretty thing."

The Glass Cat yawned and stretched herself upon the floor.

"Have your own way," she said. "I'm sorry for the Patchwork Girl,that's all."

Ojo and Unc Nunkie slept that night in the Magician's house, and theboy was glad to stay because he was anxious to see the Patchwork Girlbrought to life. The Glass Cat was also a wonderful creature to littleOjo, who had never seen or known anything of magic before, although hehad lived in the Fairyland of Oz ever since he was born. Back there inthe woods nothing unusual ever happened. Unc Nunkie, who might havebeen King of the Munchkins, had not his people united with all theother countries of Oz in acknowledging Ozma as their sole ruler, hadretired into this forgotten forest nook with his baby nephew and theyhad lived all alone there. Only that the neglected garden had failed togrow food for them, they would always have lived in the solitary BlueForest; but now they had started out to mingle with other people, andthe first place they came to proved so interesting that Ojo couldscarcely sleep a wink all night.

Margolotte was an excellent cook and gave them a fine breakfast. Whilethey were all engaged in eating, the good woman said:

"This is the last meal I shall have to cook for some time, for rightafter 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!"

"It will, indeed, relieve you of much drudgery," said the Magician. "Bythe way, Margolotte, I thought I saw you getting some brains from thecupboard, while I was busy with my kettles. What qualities have yougiven your new servant?"

"Only those that an humble servant requires," she answered. "I do notwish her to feel above her station, as the Glass Cat does. That wouldmake her discontented and unhappy, for of course she must always be aservant."

Ojo was somewhat disturbed as he listened to this, and the boy began tofear he had done wrong in adding all those different qualities ofbrains to the lot Margolotte had prepared for the servant. But it wastoo late now for regret, since all the brains were securely sewn upinside the Patchwork Girl's head. He might have confessed what he haddone and thus allowed Margolotte and her husband to change the brains;but he was afraid of incurring their anger. He believed that Unc hadseen him add to the brains, and Unc had not said a word against it; butthen, Unc never did say anything unless it was absolutely necessary.

As soon as breakfast was over they all went into the Magician's bigworkshop, where the Glass Cat was lying before the mirror and thePatchwork Girl lay limp and lifeless upon the bench.

"Now, then," said Dr. Pipt, in a brisk tone, "we shall perform one ofthe greatest feats of magic possible to man, even in this marvelousLand of Oz. In no other country could it be done at all. I think weought to have a little music while the Patchwork Girl comes to life. Itis pleasant to reflect that the first sounds her golden ears will hearwill be delicious music."

As he spoke he went to a phonograph, which screwed fast to a smalltable, and wound up the spring of the instrument and adjusted the biggold horn.

"The music my servant will usually hear," remarked Margolotte, "will bemy orders to do her work. But I see no harm in allowing her to listento 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 Magicianunlocked his cabinet and took out the gold bottle containing the Powderof Life.

They all bent over the bench on which the Patchwork Girl reclined. UncNunkie and Margolotte stood behind, near the windows, Ojo at one sideand the Magician in front, where he would have freedom to sprinkle thepowder. The Glass Cat came near, too, curious to watch the importantscene.

"All ready?" asked Dr. Pipt.

"All is ready," answered his wife.

So the Magician leaned over and shook from the bottle some grains ofthe wonderful Powder, and they fell directly on the Patchwork Girl'shead and arms.

Chapter Five

A Terrible Accident

"It will take a few minutes for this powder to do its work," remarkedthe Magician, sprinkling the body up and down with much care.

But suddenly the Patchwork Girl threw up one arm, which knocked thebottle of powder from the crooked man's hand and sent it flying acrossthe room. Unc Nunkie and Margolotte were so startled that they bothleaped backward and bumped together, and Unc's head joggled the shelfabove them and upset the bottle containing the Liquid of Petrifaction.

The Magician uttered such a wild cry that Ojo jumped away and thePatchwork Girl sprang after him and clasped her stuffed arms around himin terror. The Glass Cat snarled and hid under the table, and so it wasthat when the powerful Liquid of Petrifaction was spilled it fell onlyupon the wife of the Magician and the uncle of Ojo. With these two thecharm worked promptly. They stood motionless and stiff as marblestatues, in exactly the positions they were in when the Liquid struckthem.

Ojo pushed the Patchwork Girl away and ran to Unc Nunkie, filled with aterrible fear for the only friend and protector he had ever known. Whenhe grasped Unc's hand it was cold and hard. Even the long gray beardwas solid marble. The Crooked Magician was dancing around the room in afrenzy of despair, calling upon his wife to forgive him, to speak tohim, to come to life again!

The Patchwork Girl, quickly recovering from her fright, now came nearerand looked from one to another of the people with deep interest. Thenshe looked at herself and laughed. Noticing the mirror, she stoodbefore it and examined her extraordinary features with amazement—herbutton eyes, pearl bead teeth and puffy nose. Then, addressing herreflection in the glass, she exclaimed:

"Whee, but there's a gaudy dame!
Makes a paint-box blush with shame.
Razzle-dazzle, fizzle-fazzle!
Howdy-do, Miss What's-your-name?"

She bowed, and the reflection bowed. Then she laughed again, long andmerrily, and the Glass Cat crept out from under the table and said:

"I don't blame you for laughing at yourself. Aren't you horrid?"

"Horrid?" she replied. "Why, I'm thoroughly delightful. I'm anOriginal, if you please, and therefore incomparable. Of all the comic,absurd, rare and amusing creatures the world contains, I must be thesupreme freak. Who but poor Margolotte could have managed to inventsuch an unreasonable being as I? But I'm glad—I'm awfully glad!—thatI'm just what I am, and nothing else."

"Be quiet, will you?" cried the frantic Magician; "be quiet and let methink! If I don't think I shall go mad."

"Think ahead," said the Patchwork Girl, seating herself in a chair."Think all you want to. I don't mind."

"Gee! but I'm tired playing that tune," called the phonograph, speakingthrough its horn in a brazen, scratchy voice. "If you don't mind, Pipt,old boy, I'll cut it out and take a rest."

The Magician looked gloomily at the music-machine.

"What dreadful luck!" he wailed, despondently. "The Powder of Life musthave fallen on the phonograph."

He went up to it and found that the gold bottle that contained theprecious powder had dropped upon the stand and scattered itslife-giving grains over the machine. The phonograph was very muchalive, and began dancing a jig with the legs of the table to which itwas attached, and this dance so annoyed Dr. Pipt that he kicked thething into a corner and pushed a bench against it, to hold it quiet.

"You were bad enough before," said the Magician, resentfully; "but alive phonograph is enough to drive every sane person in the Land of Ozstark crazy."

"No insults, please," answered the phonograph in a surly tone. "You didit, my boy; don't blame me."

"You've bungled everything, Dr. Pipt," added the Glass Cat,contemptuously.

"Except me," said the Patchwork Girl, jumping up to whirl merrilyaround the room.

"I think," said Ojo, almost ready to cry through grief over UncNunkie's sad fate, "it must all be my fault, in some way. I'm calledOjo the Unlucky, you know."

"That's nonsense, kiddie," retorted the Patchwork Girl cheerfully. "Noone can be unlucky who has the intelligence to direct his own actions.The unlucky 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 wifeand Unc Nunkie and turned them into marble," he sadly replied.

"Well, why don't you sprinkle some of that powder on them and bringthem 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 thegolden bottle, with which he ran to Margolotte.

Said the Patchwork Girl:

"Higgledy, piggledy, dee—
What fools magicians be!
His head's so thick
He can't think quick,
So he takes advice from me."

Standing upon the bench, for he was so crooked he could not reach thetop of his wife's head in any other way, Dr. Pipt began shaking thebottle. But not a grain of powder came out. He pulled off the cover,glanced within, and then threw the bottle from him with a wail ofdespair.

"Gone—gone! Every bit gone," he cried. "Wasted on that miserablephonograph when 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 stirringfour kettles with both feet and both hands," was the agonized reply."Six years! while poor Margolotte stands watching me as a marble image."

"Can't anything else be done?" asked the Patchwork Girl.

The Magician shook his head. Then he seemed to remember something andlooked up.

"There is one other compound that would destroy the magic spell of theLiquid of Petrifaction and restore my wife and Unc Nunkie to life,"said he. "It may be hard to find the things I need to make this magiccompound, but if they were found I could do in an instant what willotherwise take six long, weary years of stirring kettles with bothhands 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 thekettles."

"That's the idea, Scraps," said the Glass Cat, approvingly. "I'm gladto find you have decent brains. Mine are exceptionally good. You cansee 'em work; they're pink."

"Scraps?" repeated the girl. "Did you call me 'Scraps'? Is that myname?"

"I—I believe my poor wife had intended to name you 'Angeline,'" saidthe Magician.

"But I like 'Scraps' best," she replied with a laugh. "It fits mebetter, for my patchwork is all scraps, and nothing else. Thank you fornaming me, Miss Cat. Have you any name of your own?"

"I have a foolish name that Margolotte once gave me, but which is quiteundignified for one of my importance," answered the cat. "She called me'Bungle.'"

"Yes," sighed the Magician; "you were a sad bungle, taken all in all. Iwas wrong to make you as I did, for a more useless, conceited andbrittle thing never before existed."

"I'm not so brittle as you think," retorted the cat. "I've been alive agood many years, for Dr. Pipt experimented on me with the first magicPowder of Life he ever made, and so far I've never broken or cracked orchipped 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," pleaded Ojo, speaking to the Crooked Magician, "what must wefind to make the compound that will save Unc Nunkie?"

"First," was the reply, "I must have a six-leaved clover. That can onlybe found in the green country around the Emerald City, and six-leavedclovers 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 yellowbutterfly. That color can only be found in the yellow country of theWinkies, 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 outa small book covered with blue leather. Looking through the pages hefound the recipe he wanted and said: "I must have a gill of water froma dark well."

"What kind of a well is that, sir?" asked the boy.

"One where the light of day never penetrates. The water must be put ina 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 adrop of oil from a live man's body."

Ojo looked grave at this.

"What is a Woozy, please?" he inquired.

"Some sort of an animal. I've never seen one, so I can't describe it,"replied the Magician.

"If I can find 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 looked in the book again, to make sure.

"That's what the recipe calls for," he replied, "and of course we mustget everything that is called for, or the charm won't work. The bookdoesn't say 'blood'; it says 'oil,' and there must be oil somewhere ina live man's body or the book wouldn't ask for it."

"All right," returned Ojo, trying not to feel discouraged; "I'll try tofind it."

The Magician looked at the little Munchkin boy in a doubtful way andsaid:

"All this will mean a long journey for you; perhaps several longjourneys; for you must search through several of the differentcountries 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 theother, for both stand there together and the same compound will restorethem both to life. Do the best you can, Ojo, and while you are gone Ishall begin the six years job of making a new batch of the Powder ofLife. Then, if you should unluckily fail to secure any one of thethings needed, I will have lost no time. But if you succeed you mustreturn here as quickly as you can, and that will save me much tiresomestirring of four kettles with both feet and both hands."

"I will start on my journey at once, sir," said the boy.

"And I will go with you," declared the Patchwork Girl.

"No, no!" exclaimed the Magician. "You have no right to leave thishouse. You are only a servant and have not been discharged."

Scraps, who had been dancing up and down the room, stopped and lookedat him.

"What is a servant?" she asked.

"One who serves. A—a sort of slave," he explained.

"Very well," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'm going to serve you and yourwife 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 undertakena serious task."

Scraps laughed, and 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 clover; three nice hairs
From a Woozy's tail, the book declares
Are needed for the magic spell,
And water from a pitch-dark well.
The yellow wing of a butterfly
To find must Ojo also try,
And if he gets them without harm,
Doc Pipt will make the magic charm;
But if he doesn't get 'em, Unc
Will always stand a marble chunk."

The Magician looked at her thoughtfully.

"Poor Margolotte must have given you some of the quality of poesy, bymistake," he said. "And, if that is true, I didn't make a very goodarticle when I prepared it, or else you got an overdose or anunderdose. However, I believe I shall let you go with Ojo, for my poorwife will not need your services until she is restored to life. Also Ithink you may be able to help the boy, for your head seems to containsome thoughts I did not expect to find in it. But be very careful ofyourself, for you're a souvenir of my dear Margolotte. Try not to getripped, 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 wearout your scarlet plush tongue, which ought to have been hemmed on theedges. And remember you belong to me and must return here as soon asyour mission is accomplished."

"I'm going with Scraps and Ojo," announced the Glass Cat.

"You can't," said the Magician.

"Why not?"

"You'd get broken in no time, and you couldn't be a bit of use to theboy and the Patchwork Girl."

"I beg to differ with you," returned the cat, in a haughty tone. "Threeheads are better than two, and my pink brains are beautiful. You cansee 'em work."

"Well, go along," said the Magician, irritably. "You're only anannoyance, anyhow, and I'm glad to get rid of you."

"Thank you for nothing, then," answered the cat, stiffly.

Dr. Pipt took a small basket from a cupboard and packed several thingsin it. Then he handed it to Ojo.

"Here is some food and a bundle of charms," he said. "It is all I cangive you, but I am sure you will find friends on your journey who willassist you in your search. Take care of the Patchwork Girl and bringher safely back, for she ought to prove useful to my wife. As for theGlass Cat—properly named Bungle—if she bothers you I now give you mypermission to break her in two, for she is not respectful and does notobey 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 verytenderly.

"I'm going to try to save you, Unc," he said, just as if the marbleimage could hear him; and then he shook the crooked hand of the CrookedMagician, who was already busy hanging the four kettles in thefireplace, and picking up his basket left the house.

The Patchwork Girl followed him, and after them came the Glass Cat.

Chapter Six

The Journey

Ojo had never traveled before and so he only knew that the path downthe mountainside led into the open Munchkin Country, where largenumbers of people dwelt. Scraps was quite new and not supposed to knowanything of the Land of Oz, while the Glass Cat admitted she had neverwandered very far away from the Magician's house. There was only onepath before them, at the beginning, so they could not miss 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 hadundertaken.

Suddenly the Patchwork Girl laughed. It was funny to see her laugh,because her cheeks wrinkled up, her nose tipped, her silver button eyestwinkled and her mouth curled at the corners in a comical way.

"Has something pleased you?" asked Ojo, who was feeling solemn andjoyless 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 bedquiltand intended to be a slave to Margolotte, rendered free as air by anaccident that none of you could foresee. I am enjoying life and seeingthe world, while the woman who made me is standing helpless as a blockof wood. If that isn't funny enough to laugh at, 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 thatare on all sides of us."

"But they're part of it; and aren't they pretty trees?" returnedScraps, bobbing her head until her brown yarn curls fluttered in thebreeze. "Growing between them I can see lovely ferns and wild-flowers,and soft green mosses. If the rest of your world is half as beautiful Ishall be glad I'm alive."

"I don't know what the rest of the world is like, I'm sure," said thecat; "but I mean to find out."

"I have never been out of the forest," Ojo added; "but to me the treesare gloomy and sad and the wild-flowers seem lonesome. It must be nicerwhere there are no trees and there is room for lots of people to livetogether."

"I wonder if any of the people we shall meet will be as splendid as Iam," said the Patchwork Girl. "All I have seen, so far, have pale,colorless skins and clothes as blue as the country they live in, whileI am of many gorgeous colors—face and body and clothes. That is why Iam bright and contented, Ojo, while you are blue and sad."

"I think I made 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 you to do with my brains?" asked Scraps.

"A lot," replied Ojo. "Old Margolotte meant to give you only afew—just enough to keep you going—but when she wasn't looking I addeda good many more, of the best kinds I could find in the Magician'scupboard."

"Thanks," said the girl, dancing along the path ahead of Ojo and thendancing back to his side. "If a few brains are good, many brains mustbe better."

"But they ought to be evenly balanced," said the boy, "and I had notime to be careful. From the way you're acting, I guess the dose wasbadly mixed."

"Scraps hasn't enough brains to hurt her, so don't worry," remarked thecat, which was trotting along in a very dainty and graceful manner."The only brains worth considering are mine, which are pink. You cansee 'em work."

After walking a long time they came to a little brook that trickledacross the path, and here Ojo sat down to rest and eat something fromhis basket. He found that the Magician had given him part of a loaf ofbread and a slice of cheese. He broke off some of the bread and wassurprised to find the loaf just as large as it was before. It was thesame way with the cheese: however much he broke off from the slice, itremained exactly the same size.

"Ah," said he, nodding wisely; "that's magic. Dr. Pipt has enchantedthe bread and the cheese, so it will last me all through my journey,however much I eat."

"Why do you put those things into your mouth?" asked Scraps, gazing athim in astonishment. "Do you need more stuffing? Then why don't you usecotton, 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 intomy 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?" 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 andbeyond her mouth there was no opening. Being unable to swallow shethrew 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 madelike 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 mediscover myself in my own way."

With this she began amusing herself by leaping across the brook andback again.

"Be careful, or you'll fall in the water," warned Ojo.

"Never mind."

"You'd better. If you get wet you'll be soggy and can't walk. Yourcolors might run, too," he said.

"Don't my colors run whenever I run?" she asked.

"Not in the way I mean. If they get wet, the reds and greens andyellows and purples of your patches might run into each other andbecome just a blur—no color at all, you know."

"Then," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'll be careful, for if I spoiled mysplendid colors I would cease to be beautiful."

"Pah!" sneered the Glass Cat, "such colors are not beautiful; they'reugly, and in bad taste. Please notice that my body has no color at all.I'm transparent, except for my exquisite red heart and my lovely pinkbrains—you can see 'em work."

"Shoo—shoo—shoo!" cried Scraps, dancing around and laughing. "Andyour horrid green eyes, Miss Bungle! You can't see your eyes, but wecan, 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 manycolors, as I am, you'd be too stuck up for anything." She leaped overthe cat and back again, and the startled Bungle crept close to a treeto escape her. This made Scraps laugh more heartily than ever, and shesaid:

"Whoop-te-doodle-doo!
The cat has lost her shoe.
Her tootsie's bare, but she don't care,
So what's the odds to you?"

"Dear me, Ojo," said the cat; "don't you think the creature is a littlebit crazy?"

"It may be," he answered, with a puzzled look.

"If she continues her insults I'll scratch off her suspender-buttoneyes," declared the cat.

"Don't quarrel, please," pleaded the boy, rising to resume the journey."Let us be good comrades and as happy and cheerful as possible, for weare likely to meet with plenty of trouble on our way."

It was nearly sundown when they came to the edge of the forest and sawspread out before them a delightful landscape. There were broad bluefields stretching for miles over the valley, which was dottedeverywhere with pretty, blue domed houses, none of which, however, wasvery near to the place where they stood. Just at the point where thepath left the forest stood a tiny house covered with leaves from thetrees, and before this stood a Munchkin man with an axe in his hand. Heseemed very much surprised when Ojo and Scraps and the Glass Cat cameout of the woods, but as the Patchwork Girl approached nearer he satdown upon a bench and laughed so hard that he could not speak for along time.

This man was a woodchopper and lived all alone in the little house. Hehad bushy blue whiskers and merry blue eyes and his blue clothes werequite old and worn.

"Mercy me!" exclaimed the woodchopper, when at last he could stoplaughing. "Who would think such a funny harlequin lived in the Land ofOz? Where did you come from, Crazy-quilt?"

"Do you mean me?" asked the Patchwork Girl.

"Of course," he replied.

"You misjudge my ancestry. I'm not a crazy-quilt; I'm patchwork," shesaid.

"There's no difference," he replied, beginning to laugh again. "When myold grandmother sews such things together she calls it a crazy-quilt;but I never 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. Imight have known it, for—Well, I declare! here's a glass cat. But theMagician will get in trouble for this; it's against the law for anyoneto work magic except Glinda the Good and the royal Wizard of Oz. If youpeople—or things—or glass spectacles—or crazy-quilts—or whateveryou are, go near the Emerald City, you'll be arrested."

"We're going there, anyhow," declared Scraps, sitting upon the benchand swinging her stuffed legs.

"If any of us takes a rest,
We'll be arrested sure,
And get no restitution
'Cause the rest we must endure."

"I see," said the woodchopper, nodding; "you're as crazy as thecrazy-quilt you're made of."

"She really is crazy," remarked the Glass Cat. "But that isn't to bewondered 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 mypretty pink brains. Did you notice my brains, stranger? You can see 'emwork."

"So I can," replied the woodchopper; "but I can't see that theyaccomplish much. A glass cat is a useless sort of thing, but aPatchwork Girl is really useful. She makes me laugh, and laughter isthe 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 withhis axe, and used to chop himself very badly. Whenever he lost an armor a leg he had 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 Dorothyin the forest and went with her to the Emerald City, where he made hisfortune. He is now one of the favorites of Princess Ozma, and she hasmade him the Emperor of the Winkies—the Country where all is yellow."

"Who is Dorothy?" inquired the Patchwork Girl.

"A little maid 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 royalpalace."

"Is Dorothy made of tin?" inquired Ojo.

"Is she patchwork, like me?" inquired Scraps.

"No," said the man; "Dorothy is flesh, just as I am. I know of only onetin person, and that is Nick Chopper, the Tin Woodman; and there willnever be but one Patchwork Girl, for any magician that sees you willrefuse to make another one like you."

"I suppose we shall see the Tin Woodman, for we are going to theCountry of the Winkies," said the boy.

"What for?" asked the woodchopper.

"To get the left wing of a yellow butterfly."

"It is a long journey," declared the man, "and you will go throughlonely parts of Oz and cross rivers and traverse dark forests beforeyou get there."

"Suits me all right," said Scraps. "I'll get a chance to see thecountry."

"You're crazy, girl. Better crawl into a rag-bag and hide there; orgive yourself to some little girl to play with. Those who travel arelikely to meet trouble; that's why I stay at home."

The woodchopper then invited them all to stay the night at his littlehut, but they were anxious to get on and so left him and continuedalong the path, which was broader, now, and more distinct.

They expected to reach some other house before it grew dark, but thetwilight was brief and Ojo soon began to fear they had made a mistakein leaving the woodchopper.

"I can scarcely 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 armso he could 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 runahead 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 from his pocket and tied it around the cat's neck, andafter that the creature guided them along the path. They had proceededin this way for about an hour when a twinkling blue light appearedahead of them.

"Good! there's a house at last," cried Ojo. "When we reach it the goodpeople will surely welcome us and give us a night's lodging." Buthowever far they walked the light seemed to get no nearer, so by and bythe cat stopped short, saying:

"I think the light is traveling, too, and we shall never be able tocatch up with it. But here is a house by the roadside, so why gofarther?"

"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 andsilent, but the boy was tired and wanted to rest, so he went up to thedoor and knocked.

"Who is there?" cried a voice from within.

"I am Ojo the Unlucky, and with me are Miss Scraps Patchwork and theGlass Cat," he replied.

"What do you want?" asked the Voice.

"A place to sleep," said Ojo.

"Come in, then; but don't make any noise, and you must go directly tobed," returned the Voice.

Ojo unlatched the door and entered. It was very dark inside and hecould see nothing at all. But the cat exclaimed: "Why, there's no onehere!"

"There must be," said the boy. "Some one spoke to me."

"I can see everything in the room," replied the cat, "and no one ispresent but ourselves. But here are three beds, all made up, so we mayas well go to sleep."

"What is sleep?" inquired the Patchwork Girl.

"It's what you 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 Voicethey had heard before. "Keep quiet, strangers, and go to bed."

The cat, which could see in the dark, looked sharply around for theowner of the Voice, but could discover no one, although the Voice hadseemed close beside them. She arched her back a little and seemedafraid. 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 shoesand hat and crept into the bed. Then the cat led Scraps to another bedand 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."

"Can't I whistle?" asked Scraps.

"No."

"Can't I dance till morning, if I want to?" asked Scraps.

"You must keep quiet," said the cat, in a soft voice.

"I don't want to," replied the Patchwork Girl, speaking as loudly asusual. "What right have you to order me around? If I want to talk, oryell, or whistle—"

Before she could say anything more an unseen hand seized her firmly andthrew her out of the door, which closed behind her with a sharp slam.She found herself bumping and rolling in the road and when she got upand tried to open the door of the house 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 down in his bed and fell asleep, and he was so tiredthat he never wakened until broad daylight.

Chapter Seven

The Troublesome Phonograph

When the boy opened his eyes next morning he looked carefully aroundthe room. These small Munchkin houses seldom had more than one room inthem. That in which Ojo now found himself had three beds, set all in arow on one side of it. The Glass Cat lay asleep on one bed, Ojo was inthe 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 which breakfast wasalready placed, smoking hot. Only one chair was drawn up to the table,where a place was set for one person. No one seemed to be in the roomexcept the boy and Bungle.

Ojo got up and put on his shoes. Finding a toilet stand at the head ofhis bed he washed his face and hands and brushed his hair. Then he wentto the table and said:

"I wonder if this is my breakfast?"

"Eat it!" commanded a Voice at his side, so near that Ojo jumped. Butno person could he see.

He was hungry, and the breakfast looked good; so he sat down and ateall he wanted. Then, rising, 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, hesaid: "Whoever lives here has been kind to me, and I'm much obliged."

There was no answer, so he took his basket and went out the door, thecat following him. In the middle of the path sat the Patchwork Girl,playing with pebbles she had picked up.

"Oh, there you are!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "I thought you werenever coming out. It has been daylight a long time."

"What did you do all night?" asked the boy.

"Sat here and watched the stars and the moon," she replied. "They'reinteresting. I never saw them before, you know."

"Of course not," said Ojo.

"You were crazy to act so badly and get thrown outdoors," remarkedBungle, as they renewed their journey.

"That's all right," said Scraps. "If I hadn't been thrown out Iwouldn'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 thenight."

"I don't see why that should be," said the boy, thoughtfully; "therewas plenty to eat in that house, for I had a fine breakfast, and Islept in a nice bed."

"Don't you feel tired?" asked the Patchwork Girl, noticing that the boyyawned.

"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 thinkI'll now eat some of my crackers and cheese."

Scraps danced up and down the path. Then she sang:

"Kizzle-kazzle-kore;
The wolf is at the door,
There's nothing to eat but a bone without meat,
And a bill from the grocery store."

"What does that mean?" asked Ojo.

"Don't ask me," replied Scraps. "I say what comes into my head, but ofcourse I know nothing of a grocery store or bones without meat or—verymuch else."

"No," said the cat; "she's stark, staring, raving crazy, and her brainscan't be pink, for they don't work properly."

"Bother the brains!" cried Scraps. "Who cares for 'em, anyhow? Have younoticed how beautiful my patches are in this sunlight?"

Just then they heard a sound as of footsteps pattering along the pathbehind them and all three turned to see what was coming. To theirastonishment they beheld a small round table running as fast as itsfour spindle legs could carry it, and to the top was screwed fast aphonograph with a big gold horn.

"Hold on!" shouted the phonograph. "Wait for me!"

"Goodness me; it's that music thing which the Crooked Magicianscattered the Powder of Life over," said Ojo.

"So it is," returned Bungle, in a grumpy tone of voice; and then, asthe phonograph overtook them, the Glass Cat added sternly: "What areyou doing here, anyhow?"

"I've run away," said the music thing. "After you left, old Dr. Piptand I had a dreadful quarrel and he threatened to smash me to pieces ifI didn't keep quiet. Of course I wouldn't do that, because atalking-machine is supposed to talk and make a noise—and sometimesmusic. So I slipped out of the house while the Magician was stirringhis four kettles and I've been running after you all night. Now thatI've found such pleasant company, I can talk and play tunes all I wantto."

Ojo was greatly annoyed by this unwelcome addition to their party. Atfirst he did not know what to say to the newcomer, but a little thoughtdecided him not to make friends.

"We are traveling on important business," he declared, "and you'llexcuse 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 somewhereelse."

"This is very unkind treatment, I must say," whined the phonograph, inan injured tone. "Everyone seems to hate me, and yet I was intended toamuse people."

"It isn't you we hate, especially," observed the Glass Cat; "it's yourdreadful music. When I lived in the same room with you I was muchannoyed by your squeaky horn. It growls and grumbles and clicks andscratches so it spoils the music, and your machinery rumbles so thatthe racket drowns every tune you attempt."

"That isn't my fault; it's the fault of my records. I must admit that Ihaven't a clear record," answered the machine.

"Just the same, you'll have to go away," said Ojo.

"Wait a minute," cried Scraps. "This music thing interests me. Iremember to have heard music when I first came to life, and I wouldlike to hear it again. What is your name, my poor abused phonograph?"

"Victor Columbia Edison," it answered.

"Well, I shall call you 'Vic' for short," said the Patchwork Girl. "Goahead and play something."

"It'll drive you crazy," warned the cat.

"I'm crazy now, according to your statement. Loosen up and reel out themusic, Vic."

"The only record I have with me," explained the phonograph, "is one theMagician attached just before we had our quarrel. It's a highlyclassical composition."

"A what?" inquired Scraps.

"It is classical music, and is considered the best and most puzzlingever manufactured. You're supposed to like it, whether you do or not,and if you don't, the proper thing is to look as if you did.Understand?"

"Not in the least," said Scraps.

"Then, listen!"

At once the machine began to play and in a few minutes Ojo put hishands to his ears to shut out the sounds and the cat snarled and Scrapsbegan to laugh.

"Cut it out, Vic," she said. "That's enough."

But the phonograph continued playing the dreary tune, so Ojo seized thecrank, jerked it free and threw it into the road. However, the momentthe crank struck the ground it bounded back to the machine again andbegan winding it up. And still the music played.

"Let's run!" cried Scraps, and they all started and ran down the pathas fast as they could go. But the phonograph was right behind them andcould run and play at the same time. It called out, reproachfully:

"What's the matter? Don't you love classical music?"

"No, Vic," said Scraps, halting. "We will passical the classical andpreserve what joy we have left. I haven't any nerves, thank goodness,but your music makes my cotton shrink."

"Then turn over my record. There's a rag-time tune on the other side,"said the machine.

"What's rag-time?"

"The opposite of classical."

"All right," said Scraps, and turned over the record.

The phonograph now began to play a jerky jumble of sounds which provedso bewildering that after a moment Scraps stuffed her patchwork aproninto 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," threatenedOjo.

The music stopped, at that, and the machine turned its horn from one toanother and said with great indignation: "What's the matter now? Is itpossible you can't appreciate rag-time?"

"Scraps ought to, being rags herself," said the cat; "but I simplycan't stand it; it makes my whiskers curl."

"It is, indeed, 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 andput it on again, "for some reason or other you've missed your guess.You're not a concert; you're a nuisance."

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast," asserted thephonograph sadly.

"Then we're not savages. I advise you to go home and beg the Magician'spardon."

"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 someone who is real wicked, and stay with him till he repents. In that wayyou 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," said Ojo; "I think we shall keep straight ahead, for this path isthe widest and best. When we come to some house we will inquire the wayto the Emerald City."

Chapter Eight

The Foolish Owl and the Wise Donkey

On they went, and half an hour's steady walking brought them to a housesomewhat better than the two they had already passed. It stood close tothe roadside and over the door was a sign that read: "Miss Foolish Owland Mr. Wise Donkey: Public Advisers."

When Ojo read this sign aloud Scraps said laughingly: "Well, here is aplace to get all the advice we want, maybe more than we need. Let's goin."

The boy knocked at the door.

"Come in!" called a deep bass voice.

So they opened the door and entered the house, where a littlelight-brown donkey, dressed in a blue apron and a blue cap, was engagedin dusting the furniture with a blue cloth. On a shelf over the windowsat a great blue owl with a blue sunbonnet on her head, blinking herbig round eyes at the visitors.

"Good morning," said the donkey, in his deep voice, which seemed biggerthan he was. "Did you come to us for advice?"

"Why, we came, anyhow," replied Scraps, "and now we are here we may aswell have some advice. It's free, isn't it?"

"Certainly," said the donkey. "Advice doesn't cost anything—unless youfollow it. Permit me to say, by the way, that you are the queerest lotof travelers that ever came to my shop. Judging you merely byappearances, I think you'd better talk to the Foolish Owl yonder."

They turned to look at the bird, which fluttered its wings and staredback at them with its big eyes.

"Hoot-ti-toot-ti-toot!" cried the owl.

"Fiddle-cum-foo,
Howdy-do?
Riddle-cum, tiddle-cum,
Too-ra-la-loo!"

"That beats your poetry, Scraps," said Ojo.

"It's just nonsense!" declared the Glass Cat.

"But it's good 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 has 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 thedonkey, turning to look at Scraps. "You are certainly a wonder, mydear, and I fancy you'd make a splendid pincushion. If you belonged tome, 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 beauty that dazzles you," she asserted. "You Munchkin peopleall strut around in your stupid blue color, while I—"

"You are wrong in calling me a Munchkin," interrupted the donkey, "forI was born in the Land of Mo and came to visit the Land of Oz on theday it was shut off from all the rest of the world. So here I amobliged to stay, and I confess it is a very pleasant country to livein."

"Hoot-ti-toot!" cried the owl;

"Ojo's searching for a charm,
'Cause 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?" asked the boy.

"Extremely so," replied the donkey. "Notice what vulgar expressions sheuses. But I admire the owl for the reason that she is positivelyfoolish. Owls are supposed to be so very wise, generally, that afoolish one is unusual, and you perhaps know that anything or anyoneunusual is sure to be interesting to the wise."

The owl flapped its wings again, muttering these words:

"It's hard to be a glassy cat—
No cat can be more hard than that;
She's so transparent, every act
Is clear to us, and that's a fact."

"Have you noticed my pink brains?" inquired Bungle, proudly. "You cansee 'em work."

"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 hasn't given us any advice, as yet," the boy declared.

"No? Then what do you call all those sweet poems?"

"Just foolishness," replied Ojo. "Scraps does the same thing."

"Foolishness! Of course! To be sure! The Foolish Owl must be foolish orshe wouldn't be the Foolish Owl. You are very complimentary to mypartner, indeed," asserted the donkey, rubbing his front hoofs togetheras if highly pleased.

"The sign says that you are wise," remarked Scraps to the donkey. "Iwish you would prove it."

"With great pleasure," returned the beast. "Put me to the test, my dearPatches, 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 EmeraldCity."

"And how shall we find the road of yellow bricks?"

"By keeping along the path you have been following. You'll come to theyellow bricks pretty soon, and you'll know them when you see thembecause 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'tinterest you. So I'll give you a last word of advice: move on, for thesooner you do that the sooner you'll get to the Emerald City of Oz."

"Hoot-ti-toot-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 good and bad,
Meeting dangers grave and sad,
Sometimes worried, sometimes glad—
Where you're going you don't know,
Nor do I, but off you go!"

"Sounds like a hint, to me," said the Patchwork Girl.

"Then let's take it and go," replied Ojo.

They said good-bye to the Wise Donkey and the Foolish Owl and at onceresumed their journey.

Chapter Nine

They Meet the Woozy

"There seem to be very few houses around here, after all," remarkedOjo, after they had walked for a time in silence.

"Never mind," said Scraps; "we are not looking for houses, but ratherthe road of yellow bricks. Won't it be funny to run across somethingyellow in this dismal blue country?"

"There are worse colors than yellow in this country," asserted theGlass Cat, in a spiteful tone.

"Oh; do you mean the pink pebbles you call your brains, and your redheart and green eyes?" 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 alovely variegated complexion like mine."

"I wouldn't!" retorted the cat. "I've the clearest complexion in theworld, 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, andquarreling makes me discouraged. To be brave, one must be cheerful, soI hope you will be as good-tempered as possible."

They had traveled some distance when suddenly they faced a high fencewhich barred any further progress straight ahead. It ran directlyacross the road and enclosed a small forest of tall trees, set closetogether. When the group of adventurers peered through the bars of thefence they thought this forest looked more gloomy and forbidding thanany they had ever seen before.

They soon discovered that the path they had been following now made abend and passed around the enclosure, but what made Ojo stop and lookthoughtful 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 theWoozy must be a dangerous animal or they wouldn't tell people to bewareof it."

"Let's keep out, then," replied Scraps. "That path is outside thefence, and Mr. Woozy may have all his little forest to himself, for allwe care."

"But one of our errands is to find a Woozy," Ojo explained. "TheMagician wants me 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 oneis ugly and dangerous, or they wouldn't cage him up. Maybe we shallfind another that is tame and gentle."

"Perhaps there isn't any other, at all," answered Ojo. "The signdoesn't say: 'Beware a Woozy'; it says: 'Beware the Woozy,' which maymean there's only one in all the Land of Oz."

"Then," said Scraps, "suppose we go in and find him? Very likely if weask him politely to let us pull three hairs out of the tip of his tailhe won't hurt us."

"It would hurt him, I'm sure, and that would make him cross," said thecat.

"You needn't worry, Bungle," remarked the Patchwork Girl; "for if thereis danger 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, ifwe 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 ofbars. Ojo followed and found it more easy than he had expected. Whenthey got to the top of the fence they began to get down on the otherside and soon were in the forest. The Glass Cat, being small, creptbetween the lower bars and joined them.

Here there was no path of any sort, so they entered the woods, the boyleading the way, and wandered through the trees until they were nearlyin the center of the forest. They now came upon a clear space in whichstood a rocky cave.

So far they had met no living creature, but when Ojo saw the cave heknew it must be the den of the Woozy.

It is hard to face any savage beast without a sinking of the heart, butstill more terrifying is it to face an unknown beast, which you havenever seen even a picture of. So there is little wonder that the pulsesof the Munchkin boy beat fast as he and his companions stood facing thecave. The opening was perfectly square, and about big enough to admit agoat.

"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 inno hurry."

But he had not long to wait, for the Woozy heard the sound of voicesand came trotting out of his cave. As this is the only Woozy that hasever lived, either in the Land of Oz or out of it, I must describe itto you.

The creature was all squares and flat surfaces and edges. Its head wasan exact square, like one of the building-blocks a child plays with;therefore it had no ears, but heard sounds through two openings in theupper corners. Its nose, being in the center of a square surface, wasflat, while the mouth was formed by the opening of the lower edge ofthe block. The body of the Woozy was much larger than its head, but waslikewise block-shaped—being twice as long as it was wide and high. Thetail was square and stubby and perfectly straight, and the four legswere made in the same way, each being four-sided. The animal wascovered with a thick, smooth skin and had no hair at all except at theextreme end of its tail, where there grew exactly three stiff, stubbyhairs. The beast was dark blue in color and his face was not fierce norferocious in expression, but rather good-humored and droll.

Seeing the strangers, the Woozy folded his hind legs as if they hadbeen hinged and sat down to look his visitors over.

"Well, well," he exclaimed; "what a queer lot you are! At first Ithought 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 thatyou are a remarkable group—as remarkable in your way as I am inmine—and so you are welcome to my domain. Nice place, isn't it? Butlonesome—dreadfully lonesome."

"Why did they shut you up here?" asked Scraps, who was regarding thequeer, square creature with much curiosity.

"Because I eat up all the honey-bees which the Munchkin farmers wholive around here keep to make them honey."

"Are you fond of eating honey-bees?" inquired the boy.

"Very. They are really delicious. But the farmers did not like to losetheir bees and so they tried to destroy me. Of course they couldn't dothat."

"Why not?"

"My skin is so thick and tough that nothing can get through it to hurtme. So, finding they could not destroy me, they drove me into thisforest and built a fence around 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 mossesand creeping vines, but they don't seem to suit my taste. So, therebeing no honey-bees here, I've eaten nothing for years.

"You must be awfully hungry," said the boy. "I've got some bread andcheese 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 whetherit 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 Woozy, who cleverly caught it in his mouth andate it in a twinkling.

"That's rather good," declared the animal. "Any more?"

"Try some cheese," said Ojo, and threw down a piece.

The Woozy ate that, too, and smacked its long, thin lips.

"That's mighty good!" it exclaimed. "Any more?"

"Plenty," replied Ojo. So he sat down on a Stump and fed the Woozybread and cheese for a long time; for, no matter how much the boy brokeoff, the loaf and the slice remained just as big.

"That'll do," said the Woozy, at last; "I'm quite full. I hope thestrange 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," announcedthe 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 greatfavor, if you will."

"What is it?" asked the Woozy. "Name the favor and I will grant it."

"I—I want three hairs from the tip of your tail," said Ojo, with somehesitation.

"Three hairs! Why, that's all I have—on my tail or anywhere else,"exclaimed the beast.

"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 theWoozy all about the accident to Unc Nunkie and Margolotte, and how thethree hairs were to be a part of the magic charm that would restorethem to life. The beast listened with attention and when Ojo hadfinished the recital it said, with a sigh:

"I always keep my word, for I pride myself on being square. So you mayhave the three hairs, 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 pullout the hairs now?"

"Any time you like," answered the Woozy.

So Ojo went up to the queer creature and taking hold of one of thehairs 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 andthere all around the clearing in his endeavor to pull out the hair.

"It won't come," said the boy, panting.

"I was afraid of that," declared the beast. "You'll have to pullharder."

"I'll help you," exclaimed Scraps, coming to the boy's side. "You pullthe hair, and I'll pull you, and together we ought to get it outeasily."

"Wait a jiffy," called the Woozy, and then it went to a tree and huggedit with its front paws, so that its body couldn't be dragged around bythe pull. "All ready, now. Go ahead!"

Ojo grasped the hair with both hands and pulled with all his strength,while Scraps seized the boy around his waist and added her strength tohis. But the hair wouldn't budge. Instead, it slipped out of Ojo'shands and he and Scraps both rolled upon the ground in a heap and neverstopped until they bumped against the rocky cave.

"Give it up," advised the Glass Cat, as the boy arose and assisted thePatchwork Girl to her feet. "A dozen strong men couldn't pull out thosehairs. I believe they're clinched on the under side of the Woozy'sthick skin."

"Then what shall I do?" asked the boy, despairingly. "If on our returnI fail to take these three hairs to the Crooked Magician, the otherthings I have come to seek will be of no use at all, and we cannotrestore Unc Nunkie and Margolotte to life."

"They're goners, I guess," said the Patchwork Girl.

"Never mind," added the cat. "I can't see that old Unc and Margolotteare worth all this trouble, anyhow."

But Ojo did not feel that way. He was so disheartened that he sat downupon a stump and began to cry.

The Woozy looked at the boy thoughtfully.

"Why don't you take me with you?" asked the beast. "Then, when at lastyou get to the Magician's house, he can surely find some way to pullout those three hairs."

Ojo was overjoyed at this suggestion.

"That's it!" he cried, wiping away the tears and springing to his feetwith a smile. "If I take the three hairs to the Magician, it won'tmatter if they are still in your body."

"It can't matter in the least," agreed the Woozy.

"Come on, then," said the boy, picking up his basket; "let us start atonce. 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 walked through the forest to the fence, reaching it at a pointexactly opposite that 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 canovertake a honey-bee as it flies; and I can jump very high, which isthe reason they made such a tall fence to keep me in. But I can't climbat 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 flaton the bottom of them. Nor can I gnaw away the boards, as I have noteeth."

"You're not such a terrible creature, after all," remarked Scraps.

"You haven't heard me growl, or you wouldn't say that," declared theWoozy. "When I growl, the sound echoes like thunder all through thevalleys and woodlands, and children tremble with fear, and women covertheir heads with their aprons, and big men run and hide. I supposethere is nothing in the world so terrible to listen to as the growl ofa Woozy."

"Please don't growl, then," begged Ojo, earnestly.

"There is no danger of my growling, for I am not angry. Only when angrydo I utter my fearful, ear-splitting, soul-shuddering growl. Also, whenI am angry, my eyes 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 case, I've solved the riddle," cried Scraps, dancing withglee. "Those fence-boards are made of wood, and if the Woozy standsclose to the fence and lets his eyes flash fire, they might set fire tothe fence and burn it up. Then he could walk away with us easily, beingfree."

"Ah, I have never thought of that plan, or I would have been free longago," said the Woozy. "But I cannot flash fire from my eyes unless I amvery angry."

"Can't you get angry 'bout something, please?" asked Ojo.

"I'll try. You just say 'Krizzle-Kroo' to me."

"Will that make you angry?" inquired the boy.

"Terribly angry."

"What does it mean?" asked Scraps.

"I don't know; that's what makes me so angry," replied the Woozy.

He then stood close to the fence, with his head near one of the boards,and Scraps called out "Krizzle-Kroo!" Then Ojo said "Krizzle-Kroo!" andthe Glass Cat said "Krizzle-Kroo!" The Woozy began to tremble withanger and small sparks darted from his eyes. Seeing this, they allcried "Krizzle-Kroo!" together, and that made the beast's eyes flashfire so fiercely that the fence-board caught the sparks and began tosmoke. Then it burst into flame, and the Woozy stepped back and saidtriumphantly:

"Aha! That did the business, all right. It was a happy thought for youto yell all together, for that made me as angry as I have ever been.Fine sparks, weren't they?"

"Reg'lar fireworks," replied Scraps, admiringly.

In a few moments the board had burned to a distance of several feet,leaving an opening big enough for them all to pass through. Ojo brokesome branches from a tree and with them whipped the fire until it wasextinguished.

"We don't want to burn the whole fence down," said he, "for the flameswould attract the attention of the Munchkin farmers, who would thencome and capture the Woozy again. I guess they'll be rather surprisedwhen they find he's escaped."

"So they will," declared the Woozy, chuckling gleefully. "When theyfind I'm gone the farmers will be badly scared, for they'll expect meto eat up their honey-bees, as I did before."

"That reminds me," said the boy, "that you must promise not to eathoney-bees while you are in our company."

"None at all?"

"Not a bee. You would get us all into trouble, and we can't afford tohave any more trouble than is necessary. I'll feed you all the breadand cheese you want, and that must satisfy you."

"All right; I'll promise," said the Woozy, cheerfully. "And when Ipromise 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'tmake a thing honest, does it?"

"Of course it does," returned the Woozy, very decidedly. "No one couldtrust that Crooked Magician, for instance, just because he is crooked;but a square Woozy couldn't do anything crooked if he wanted to."

"I am neither square nor crooked," said Scraps, looking down at herplump body.

"No; you're round, so you're liable to do anything," asserted theWoozy. "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 shehad a cotton back herself. It would settle down, at times, and make hersquat and dumpy, and then she had to roll herself in the road until herbody stretched out again.

Chapter Ten

Shaggy Man to the Rescue

They had not gone very far before Bungle, who had run on ahead, camebounding back to say that the road of yellow bricks was just beforethem. At once they hurried forward to see what this famous road lookedlike.

It was a broad road, but not straight, for it wandered over hill anddale and picked out the easiest places to go. All its length andbreadth was paved with smooth bricks of a bright yellow color, so itwas smooth and level except in a few places where the bricks hadcrumbled or been removed, leaving holes that might cause the unwary tostumble.

"I wonder," said Ojo, looking up and down the road, "which way to go."

"Where are you bound for?" asked the Woozy.

"The Emerald City," he replied.

"Then go west," said the Woozy. "I know this road pretty well, for I'vechased many a honey-bee over it."

"Have you ever been to the Emerald City?" asked Scraps.

"No. I am very shy by nature, as you may have noticed, so I haven'tmingled much in society."

"Are you afraid of men?" inquired the Patchwork Girl.

"Me? With my heart-rending growl—my horrible, shudderful growl? Ishould say not. I am not afraid of anything," declared the Woozy.

"I wish I could say the same," sighed Ojo. "I don't think we need beafraid when we get to the Emerald City, for Unc Nunkie has told me thatOzma, our girl Ruler, is very lovely and kind, and tries to helpeveryone who is in trouble. But they say there are many dangers lurkingon the road to the great Fairy City, and so we must be very careful."

"I hope nothing will break me," said the Glass Cat, in a nervous voice."I'm a little brittle, you know, and can't stand many hard knocks."

"If anything should fade the colors of my lovely patches it would breakmy heart," said the Patchwork Girl.

"I'm not sure you have a heart," Ojo reminded her.

"Then it would break my cotton," persisted Scraps. "Do you think theyare all fast colors, Ojo?" she asked anxiously.

"They seem fast enough when you run," he replied; and then, lookingahead of them, he exclaimed: "Oh, what lovely trees!"

They were certainly pretty to look upon and the travelers hurriedforward to observe them more closely.

"Why, they are not trees at all," said Scraps; "they are just monstrousplants."

That is what they really were: masses of great broad leaves which rosefrom the ground far into the air, until they towered twice as high asthe top of the Patchwork Girl's head, who was a little taller than Ojo.The plants formed rows on both sides of the road and from each plantrose a dozen or more of the big broad leaves, which swayed continuallyfrom side to side, although no wind was blowing. But the most curiousthing about the swaying leaves was their color. They seemed to have ageneral groundwork of blue, but here and there other colors glinted attimes through the blue—gorgeous yellows, turning to pink, purple,orange and scarlet, mingled with more sober browns and grays—eachappearing as a blotch or stripe anywhere on a leaf and thendisappearing, to be replaced by some other color of a different shape.The changeful coloring of the great leaves was very beautiful, but itwas bewildering, as well, and the novelty of the scene drew ourtravelers close to the line of plants, where they stood watching themwith rapt interest.

Suddenly a leaf bent lower than usual and touched the Patchwork Girl.Swiftly it enveloped her in its embrace, covering her completely in itsthick folds, and then it swayed back upon its stem.

"Why, she's gone!" gasped Ojo, in amazement, and listening carefully hethought he could hear the muffled screams of Scraps coming from thecenter of the folded leaf. But, before he could think what he ought todo to save her, another leaf bent down and captured the Glass Cat,rolling around the little creature until she was completely hidden, andthen straightening up again upon its stem.

"Look out," cried the Woozy. "Run! Run fast, or you are lost."

Ojo turned and saw the Woozy running swiftly up the road. But the lastleaf of the row of plants seized the beast even as he ran and instantlyhe disappeared from sight.

The boy had no chance to escape. Half a dozen of the great leaves werebending toward him from different directions and as he stood hesitatingone 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 struggled 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 whenhe remembered that all his little party had been captured, even as hewas, and there was none to save 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, butthick and firm. It was like a great bandage all around him and he foundit difficult to move his body or limbs in order to change theirposition.

The minutes passed and became hours. Ojo wondered how long one couldlive in such a condition and if the leaf would gradually sap hisstrength and even his life, in order to feed itself. The littleMunchkin boy had never heard of any person dying in the Land of Oz, buthe knew one could suffer a great deal of pain. His greatest fear atthis time was that he would always remain imprisoned in the beautifulleaf 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 theleaf prevented his hearing her. By and by he thought he heard awhistle, as of some one whistling a tune. Yes; it really must be someone whistling, he decided, for he could follow the strains of a prettyMunchkin melody that Unc Nunkie used to sing to him. The sounds werelow and sweet and, although they reached Ojo's ears very faintly, theywere clear and harmonious.

Could the leaf whistle, Ojo wondered? Nearer and nearer came the soundsand then they seemed to be just the other side of the leaf that washugging him.

Suddenly the whole leaf toppled and fell, carrying the boy with it, andwhile he sprawled at full length the folds slowly relaxed and set himfree. He scrambled quickly to his feet and found that a strange man wasstanding before him—a man so curious in appearance that the boy staredwith round eyes.

He was a big man, with shaggy whiskers, shaggy eyebrows, shaggyhair—but kindly blue eyes that were gentle as those of a cow. On hishead was a green velvet hat with a jeweled band, which was all shaggyaround the brim. Rich but shaggy laces were at his throat; a coat withshaggy edges was decorated with diamond buttons; the velvet breecheshad jeweled buckles at the knees and shags all around the bottoms. Onhis breast hung a medallion bearing a picture of Princess Dorothy ofOz, and in his hand, as he stood looking at Ojo, was a sharp knifeshaped like a dagger.

"Oh!" exclaimed 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 rescuedme from the leaf?"

"None other, you may be sure. But take care, or I shall have to rescueyou 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 leavesall straightened up on their stems and kept still.

The man now took Ojo's arm and led him up the road, past the last ofthe great plants, and not till he was safely beyond their reach did hecease his whistling.

"You see, the music charms 'em," said he. "Singing or whistling—itdoesn't matter which—makes 'em behave, and nothing else will. I alwayswhistle as I go by 'em and so they always let me alone. To-day as Iwent by, whistling, I saw a leaf curled and knew there must besomething inside it. I cut down the leaf with my knife and—out youpopped. Lucky I passed by, wasn't it?"

"You were very kind," said Ojo, "and I thank you. Will you pleaserescue my companions, also?"

"What companions?" asked the Shaggy Man.

"The leaves grabbed them all," said the boy. "There's a Patchwork Girland—"

"A what?"

"A girl made of patchwork, you know. She's alive and her name isScraps. 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."But it's a queer animal with three hairs on the tip of its tail thatwon't come out and—"

"What won't come out?" asked the Shaggy Man; "the tail?"

"The hairs won't come out. But you'll see the Woozy, if you'll pleaserescue it, and then you'll know just what it is."

"Of course," said the Shaggy Man, nodding his shaggy head. And then hewalked back among the plants, still whistling, and found the threeleaves which were curled around Ojo's traveling companions. The firstleaf he cut down released Scraps, and on seeing her the Shaggy Manthrew back his shaggy head, opened wide his mouth and laughed soshaggily and yet so merrily that Scraps liked him at once. Then he tookoff his hat and made her a low bow, saying:

"My dear, you're a wonder. I must introduce you to my friend theScarecrow."

When he cut down the second leaf he rescued the Glass Cat, and Bunglewas so frightened that she scampered away like a streak and soon hadjoined Ojo, when she sat beside him panting and trembling. The lastplant of all the row had captured the Woozy, and a big bunch in thecenter of the curled leaf showed plainly where he was. With his sharpknife the Shaggy Man sliced off the stem of the leaf and as it fell andunfolded out trotted the Woozy and escaped beyond the reach of any moreof the dangerous plants.

Chapter Eleven

A Good Friend

Soon the entire party was gathered on the road of yellow bricks, quitebeyond the reach of the beautiful but treacherous plants. The ShaggyMan, staring first at one and then at the other, seemed greatly pleasedand interested.

"I've seen queer things since I came to the Land of Oz," said he, "butnever anything queerer than this band of adventurers. Let us sit down awhile, 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 oncewith Dorothy, and Ozma let me stay."

"How do you like Oz?" asked Scraps. "Isn't the country and the climategrand?"

"It's the finest country in all the world, even if it is a fairyland,and I'm happy every minute I live in it," said the Shaggy Man. "Buttell me something about yourselves."

So Ojo related the story of his visit to the house of the CrookedMagician, and how he met there the Glass Cat, and how the PatchworkGirl was brought to life and of the terrible accident to Unc Nunkie andMargolotte. Then he told how he had set out to find the five differentthings which the Magician needed to make a charm that would restore themarble figures to life, one requirement being three hairs from aWoozy's tail.

"We found the Woozy," explained the boy, "and he agreed to give us thethree hairs; but we couldn't pull them out. So we had to bring theWoozy along with us."

"I see," returned the Shaggy Man, who had listened with interest to thestory. "But perhaps I, who am big and strong, can pull those threehairs 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 toget the hairs out of the Woozy's tail. So he sat down again and wipedhis shaggy face with a shaggy silk handkerchief and said:

"It doesn't matter. If you can keep the Woozy until you get the rest ofthe things you need, you can take the beast and his three hairs to theCrooked Magician and let him find a way to extract 'em. What are theother 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," saidthe Shaggy Man. "There is a Law against picking six-leaved clovers, butI think I can get Ozma to let you have one."

"Thank you," replied Ojo. "The next thing is the left wing of a yellowbutterfly."

"For that you must go to the Winkie Country," the Shaggy Man declared."I've never noticed any butterflies there, but that is the yellowcountry of Oz and it's ruled by a good friend of mine, the Tin Woodman."

"Oh, I've heard of him!" exclaimed Ojo. "He must be a wonderful man."

"So he is, and his heart is wonderfully kind. I'm sure the Tin Woodmanwill do all in his power to help you to save your Unc Nunkie and poorMargolotte."

"The next thing I must find," said the Munchkin boy, "is a gill ofwater from a dark well."

"Indeed! Well, that is more difficult," said the Shaggy Man, scratchinghis left ear in a puzzled way. "I've never heard of a dark well; haveyou?"

"No," said 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 Scarecrow! But surely, sir, a scarecrow can't know anything."

"Most scarecrows don't, I admit," answered the Shaggy Man. "But thisScarecrow of whom I speak is very intelligent. He claims to possess thebest brains in all Oz."

"Better than mine?" asked Scraps.

"Better than mine?" echoed the Glass Cat. "Mine are pink, and you cansee 'em work."

"Well, you can't see the Scarecrow's brains work, but they do a lot ofclever thinking," asserted the Shaggy Man. "If anyone knows where adark 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 ofhis friend the Tin Woodman, and he is often to be found in the EmeraldCity, where he visits Dorothy at the royal palace."

"Then we will ask him about the dark well," said Ojo.

"But what else does this Crooked Magician want?" asked the Shaggy Man.

"A drop of oil from a live man's body."

"Oh; but there isn't such a thing."

"That is what I thought," replied Ojo; "but the Crooked Magician saidit wouldn't be called for by the recipe if it couldn't be found, andtherefore I must search until I find it."

"I wish you good luck," said the Shaggy Man, shaking his headdoubtfully; "but I imagine you'll have a hard job getting a drop of oilfrom a live man's body. There's blood in a body, but no oil."

"There's cotton in mine," said Scraps, dancing a little jig.

"I don't doubt it," returned the Shaggy Man admiringly. "You're aregular comforter and as sweet as patchwork can be. All you lack isdignity."

"I hate dignity," cried Scraps, kicking a pebble high in the air andthen trying to catch it as it fell. "Half the fools and all the wisefolks 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 bepleased with her, and the Scarecrow will dote on her. Did you say youwere traveling toward the Emerald City?"

"Yes," replied Ojo. "I thought that the best place to go, at first,because the 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," said the other, "I wasn't going anywhere in particular. I've beena rover all my life, and although Ozma has given me a suite ofbeautiful rooms in her palace I still get the wandering fever once in awhile and start out to roam the country over. I've been away from theEmerald City several weeks, this time, and now that I've met you andyour friends I'm sure it will interest me to accompany you to the greatcity of Oz and introduce you to my friends."

"That will be very nice," said the boy, gratefully.

"I hope your friends are not dignified," observed Scraps.

"Some are, and some are not," he answered; "but I never criticise myfriends. If they are really true friends, they may be anything theylike, for all of me."

"There's some sense in that," said Scraps, nodding her queer head inapproval. "Come on, and let's get to the Emerald City as soon aspossible." With this she ran up the path, skipping and dancing, andthen turned to await them.

"It is quite a distance from here to the Emerald City," remarked theShaggy Man, "so we shall not get there to-day, nor to-morrow. Thereforelet us take the jaunt in an easy manner. I'm an old traveler and havefound that I never gain anything by being in a hurry. 'Take it easy' ismy 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 hewas hungry and would stop to eat some bread and cheese. He offered aportion 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 squaremeals to last me several weeks. Think I'll indulge in one now, as longas we're stopping anyway."

Saying this, he took a bottle from his pocket and shook from it atablet about the size of one of Ojo's finger-nails.

"That," announced the Shaggy Man, "is a square meal, in condensed form.Invention of the great Professor Woggle-Bug, of the Royal College ofAthletics. It contains soup, fish, roast meat, salad, apple-dumplings,ice cream and chocolate-drops, all boiled down to this small size, soit can be conveniently carried and swallowed when you are hungry andneed 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 beastate 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 fun in that sort of eating."

"One should only eat to sustain life," replied the Shaggy Man, "andthat tablet is equal to a peck of other food."

"I don't care for it. I want something I can chew and taste," grumbledthe Woozy.

"You are quite wrong, my poor beast," said the Shaggy Man in a tone ofpity. "Think how tired your jaws would get chewing a square meal likethis, if it were not condensed to the size of a small tablet—which youcan swallow in a jiffy."

"Chewing isn't tiresome; it's fun," maintained the Woozy. "I alwayschew 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," answered the Woozy; "but I guess I'll fool myself by munchingsome bread and cheese. I may not be hungry, having eaten all thosethings you gave me, but I consider this eating business a matter oftaste, and I like to realize what's going into me."

Ojo gave the beast what he wanted, but the Shaggy Man shook his shaggyhead reproachfully and said there was no animal so obstinate or hard toconvince as a Woozy.

At this moment a patter of footsteps was heard, and looking up they sawthe live phonograph standing before them. It seemed to have passedthrough many adventures since Ojo and his comrades last saw themachine, for the varnish of its wooden case was all marred and dentedand scratched in a way that gave it an aged and disreputable appearance.

"Dear me!" 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 adepartment store and 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 arecord on tap that is really superb," said the phonograph, growing morecheerful.

"That is too bad," remarked Ojo. "We've no objection to you as amachine, you know; but as a music-maker we hate you."

"Then why was I ever invented?" demanded the machine, in a tone ofindignant protest.

They looked at one another inquiringly, but no one could answer such apuzzling question. Finally 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 happinessmore. Tell me, Phony, what is this record like, which you say you haveon tap?"

"It's a popular song, sir. In all civilized lands the common peoplehave gone wild over it."

"Makes civilized folks wild folks, eh? Then it's dangerous."

"Wild with joy, I mean," explained the phonograph. "Listen. This songwill prove a rare treat to you, I know. It made the author rich—for anauthor. It is called 'My Lulu.'"

Then the phonograph began to play. A strain of odd, jerky sounds wasfollowed by these words, sung by a man through his nose with greatvigor of expression:

"Ah wants mah Lulu, 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 nobody else loves loo-loo, Lu!"

"Here—shut that off!" cried the Shaggy Man, springing to his feet."What do you mean by such impertinence?"

"It's the latest popular song," declared the phonograph, speaking in asulky tone of voice.

"A popular song?"

"Yes. One that the feeble-minded can remember the words of and thoseignorant of music can whistle or sing. That makes a popular songpopular, and the time is coming when it will take the place of allother songs."

"That time won't come to us, just yet," said the Shaggy Man, sternly:"I'm something of a singer myself, and I don't intend to be throttledby any Lulus like your coal-black one. I shall take you all apart, Mr.Phony, and scatter your pieces far and wide over the country, as amatter of kindness to the people you might meet if allowed to runaround loose. Having performed this painful duty I shall—"

But before he could say more the phonograph turned and dashed up theroad as fast as its four table-legs could carry it, and soon it hadentirely disappeared from their view.

The Shaggy Man sat down again and seemed well pleased. "Some one elsewill save me the trouble of scattering that phonograph," said he; "forit is not possible that such a music-maker can last long in the Land ofOz. When you are rested, friends, let us go on our way."

During the afternoon the travelers found themselves in a lonely anduninhabited part of the country. Even the fields were no longercultivated and the country began to resemble a wilderness. The road ofyellow bricks seemed to have been neglected and became uneven and moredifficult to walk upon. Scrubby under-brush grew on either side of theway, while huge rocks were scattered around in abundance.

But this did not deter Ojo and his friends from trudging on, and theybeguiled the journey with jokes and cheerful conversation. Towardevening they reached a crystal spring which gushed from a tall rock bythe roadside and near this spring stood a deserted cabin. Said theShaggy Man, halting here:

"We may as well pass the night here, where there is shelter for ourheads and good water to drink. Road beyond here is pretty bad; worst weshall have to travel; so let's wait until morning before we tackle it."

They agreed to this and Ojo found some brushwood in the cabin and madea fire on the hearth. The fire delighted Scraps, who danced before ituntil Ojo warned her she might set fire to herself and burn up. Afterthat the Patchwork Girl kept at a respectful distance from the dartingflames, but the Woozy lay down before the fire like a big dog andseemed to enjoy its warmth.

For supper the Shaggy Man ate one of his tablets, but Ojo stuck to hisbread and cheese as the most satisfying food. He also gave a portion tothe Woozy.

When darkness came on and they sat in a circle on the cabin floor,facing the firelight—there being no furniture of any sort in theplace—Ojo said to the Shaggy Man:

"Won't you tell us a story?"

"I'm not good 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'ttell 'em I can sing, or they'd want me to make records for that awfulphonograph. Haven't time to be a public benefactor, so I'll just singyou this little song for your own amusement."

They were glad enough to be entertained, and listened with interestwhile the Shaggy Man chanted the following verses to a tune that wasnot unpleasant:

"I'll sing a song of Ozland, where wondrous creatures dwell
And fruits and flowers and shady bowers abound in every dell,
Where magic is a science and where no one shows surprise
If some amazing thing takes place before his very eyes.

Our Ruler's a bewitching 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 needy and distressed is what she longs to do.

And then there's Princess Dorothy, as sweet as any rose,
A lass from Kansas, where they don't grow fairies, I suppose;
And there's the brainy 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 dear 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 thrilling 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 the 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 because we feed him other kinds of meat.

It's hard to name all of the freaks this noble Land's acquired;
'Twould make my song 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—last but not least—a crazy Patchwork Lass."

Ojo was so pleased with this song that he applauded the singer byclapping his hands, and Scraps followed suit by clapping her paddedfingers together, although they made no noise. The cat pounded on thefloor with her glass paws—gently, so as not to break them—and theWoozy, which had been asleep, woke up to ask what the row was about.

"I seldom sing in public, for fear they might want me to start an operacompany," remarked the Shaggy Man, who was pleased to know his effortwas appreciated. "Voice, just now, is a little out of training; rusty,perhaps."

"Tell me," said the Patchwork Girl earnestly, "do all those queerpeople you mention 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 lookinginterested. "A Pink 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 'emwork."

"Dorothy's kitten is all pink—brains and all—except blue eyes. Name'sEureka. Great favorite at the royal palace," said the Shaggy Man,yawning.

The Glass Cat seemed annoyed.

"Do you think a pink kitten—common meat—is as pretty as I am?" sheasked.

"Can't say. Tastes differ, you know," replied the Shaggy Man, yawningagain. "But here's a pointer that may be of service to you: makefriends with Eureka and you'll be solid at the palace."

"I'm solid now; solid glass."

"You don't understand," rejoined the Shaggy Man, sleepily. "Anyhow,make friends with the Pink Kitten and you'll be all right. If the PinkKitten despises you, look out for breakers."

"Would anyone at the royal palace break a Glass Cat?"

"Might. You never can tell. Advise you to purr soft and look humble—ifyou can. And now I'm going to bed."

Bungle considered the Shaggy Man's advice so carefully that her pinkbrains were busy long after the others of the party were fast asleep.

Chapter Twelve

The Giant Porcupine

Next morning they started out bright and early to follow the road ofyellow bricks toward the Emerald City. The little Munchkin boy wasbeginning to feel tired from the long walk, and he had a great manythings to think of and consider besides the events of the journey. Atthe wonderful Emerald City, which he would presently reach, were somany strange and curious people that he was half afraid of meeting themand wondered if they would prove friendly and kind. Above all else, hecould not drive from his mind the important errand on which he hadcome, and he was determined to devote every energy to finding thethings that were necessary to prepare the magic recipe. He believedthat until dear Unc Nunkie was restored to life he could feel no joy inanything, and often he wished that Unc could be with him, to see allthe astonishing things Ojo was seeing. But alas Unc Nunkie was now amarble statue in the house of the Crooked Magician and Ojo must notfalter in his efforts to save him.

The country through which they were passing was still rocky anddeserted, with here and there a bush or a tree to break the drearylandscape. Ojo noticed one tree, especially, because it had such long,silky leaves and was so beautiful in shape. As he approached it hestudied the tree earnestly, wondering if any fruit grew on it or if itbore pretty flowers.

Suddenly he became aware that he had been looking at that tree a longtime—at least for five minutes—and it had remained in the sameposition, although the boy had continued to walk steadily on. So hestopped short, and when he stopped, the tree and all the landscape, aswell 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 others then stopped, too, and walked back to theboy.

"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'tyou see? Just notice that rock."

Scraps looked down at her feet and said: "The yellow bricks are notmoving."

"But the whole road is," answered Ojo.

"True; quite true," agreed the Shaggy Man. "I know all about the tricksof this road, but I have been thinking of something else and didn'trealize where we were."

"It will carry us back to where we started from," predicted Ojo,beginning to be nervous.

"No," replied the Shaggy Man; "it won't do that, for I know a trick tobeat this tricky road. I've traveled this way before, you know. Turnaround, all of you, and walk backward."

"What good will 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 togo and began walking backward. In an instant Ojo noticed they weregaining ground and as they proceeded in this curious way they soonpassed the tree which had first attracted his attention to theirdifficulty.

"How long must we keep this up, Shags?" asked Scraps, who wasconstantly tripping and tumbling down, only to get up again with alaugh at her mishap.

"Just a little way farther," replied the Shaggy Man.

A few minutes later he called to them to turn about quickly and stepforward, and as they obeyed the order they found themselves treadingsolid ground.

"That task is well over," observed the Shaggy Man. "It's a littletiresome to walk backward, but that is the only way to pass this partof the road, which has a trick of sliding back and carrying with itanyone who is walking upon it."

With new courage and energy they now trudged forward and after a timecame to a place where the road cut through a low hill, leaving highbanks on either side of it. They were traveling along this cut, talkingtogether, when the Shaggy Man seized Scraps with one arm and Ojo withanother 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 thatbristled all over with sharp quills, which resembled arrows. The bodywas as big as a ten-bushel-basket, but the projecting quills made itappear to be four times bigger.

"Well, what of it?" asked Scraps.

"That is Chiss, who causes a lot of trouble along this road," was thereply.

"Chiss! What is Chiss?

"I think it is merely an overgrown porcupine, but here in Oz theyconsider Chiss an evil spirit. He's different from a reg'lar porcupine,because he can throw his quills in any direction, which an Americanporcupine cannot do. That's what makes old Chiss so dangerous. If weget too near, he'll fire those quills at us and hurt us badly."

"Then we will be foolish to get too near," said Scraps.

"I'm not afraid," declared the Woozy. "The Chiss is cowardly, I'm sure,and if it ever heard my awful, terrible, frightful growl, it would bescared stiff."

"Oh; can you growl?" asked the Shaggy Man.

"That is the only ferocious thing about me," asserted the Woozy withevident pride. "My growl makes an earthquake blush and the thunderashamed of itself. If I growled at that creature you call Chiss, itwould immediately think the world had cracked in two and bumped againstthe sun and moon, and that would cause the monster to run as far and asfast as its legs could carry it."

"In that case," said the Shaggy Man, "you are now able to do us all agreat favor. Please growl."

"But you forget," returned the Woozy; "my tremendous growl would alsofrighten 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 warned of what is to occur we must try to bear the terrificnoise of your growl; but Chiss won't expect it, and it will scare himaway."

The Woozy hesitated.

"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 will forgive you."

"Very well, then," said the Woozy in a determined voice, and advanced afew 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—lookout!"

The Woozy turned toward Chiss, opened wide its mouth and said:

"Quee-ee-ee-eek."

"Go ahead and growl," said Scraps.

"Why, I—I did growl!" retorted the Woozy, who seemed much astonished.

"What, that little squeak?" she cried.

"It is the most awful growl that ever was heard, on land or sea, incaverns or in the sky," protested the Woozy. "I wonder you stood theshock so well. Didn't you feel the ground tremble? I suppose Chiss isnow 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 amoment, as if in shame or sorrow, but then it said with renewedconfidence: "Anyhow, my eyes can flash fire; and good fire, too; goodenough to set fire to a fence!"

"That is true," declared Scraps; "I saw it done myself. But yourferocious growl isn't as loud as the tick of a beetle—or one of Ojo'ssnores when he's fast asleep."

"Perhaps," said the Woozy, humbly, "I have been mistaken about mygrowl. It has always sounded very fearful to me, but that may have beenbecause it was so close to my ears."

"Never mind," Ojo said soothingly; "it is a great talent to be able toflash fire from your eyes. No one else can do that."

As they stood hesitating what to do Chiss stirred and suddenly a showerof quills came flying toward them, almost filling the air, they were somany. Scraps realized in an instant that they had gone too near toChiss for safety, so she sprang in front of Ojo and shielded him fromthe darts, which stuck their points into her own body until sheresembled one of those targets they shoot arrows at in archery games.The Shaggy Man dropped flat on his face to avoid the shower, but onequill struck him in the leg and went far in. As for the Glass Cat, thequills rattled off her body without making even a scratch, and the skinof the Woozy was so thick and tough that he was not hurt at all.

When the attack was over they all ran to the Shaggy Man, who wasmoaning and groaning, and Scraps promptly pulled the quill out of hisleg. Then up he jumped and ran over to Chiss, putting his foot on themonster's neck and holding it a prisoner. The body of the greatporcupine was now as smooth as leather, except for the holes where thequills had been, for it had shot every single quill in that one wickedshower.

"Let me go!" it shouted angrily. "How dare you put your foot on Chiss?"

"I'm going to do worse than that, old boy," replied the Shaggy Man."You have annoyed travelers on this road long enough, and now I shallput an end to you."

"You can't!" returned Chiss. "Nothing can kill me, as you knowperfectly well."

"Perhaps that is true," said the Shaggy Man in a tone ofdisappointment. "Seems to me I've been told before that you can't bekilled. But if I let you go, what will you do?"

"Pick up my quills again," said Chiss in a sulky voice.

"And then shoot them at more travelers? No; that won't do. You mustpromise me to stop throwing quills at people."

"I won't promise anything of the sort," declared Chiss.

"Why not?"

"Because it is my nature to throw quills, and every animal must do whatNature intends it to do. It isn't fair for you to blame me. If it werewrong for me to throw quills, then I wouldn't be made with quills tothrow. The proper thing for you to do 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 arehere, won't be able to keep out of your way."

"Tell you what," said Scraps, who was trying to pull the quills out ofher own body, "let's gather up all the quills and take them away withus; then old Chiss won't have any left to throw at people."

"Ah, that's a clever idea. You and Ojo must gather up the quills whileI hold Chiss a prisoner; for, if I let him go, he will get some of hisquills and be able to throw them again."

So Scraps and Ojo picked up all the quills and tied them in a bundle sothey might easily be carried. After this the Shaggy Man released Chissand let him go, knowing that he was harmless to injure anyone.

"It's the meanest trick I ever heard of," muttered the porcupinegloomily. "How would you like it, Shaggy Man, if I took all your shagsaway from you?"

"If I threw my shags and hurt people, you would be welcome to capturethem," was the reply.

Then they walked on and left Chiss standing in the road sullen anddisconsolate. The Shaggy Man limped as he walked, for his wound stillhurt him, and Scraps was much annoyed because the quills had left anumber of small holes in her patches.

When they came to a flat stone by the roadside the Shaggy Man sat downto rest, and then Ojo opened his basket and took out the bundle ofcharms the Crooked Magician had given him.

"I am Ojo the Unlucky," he said, "or we would never have met thatdreadful porcupine. But I will see if I can find anything among thesecharms which will cure your leg."

Soon he discovered that one of the charms was labelled: "For fleshwounds," and this the boy separated from the others. It was only a bitof dried root, taken from some unknown shrub, but the boy rubbed itupon the wound made by the quill and in a few moments the place washealed entirely and the Shaggy Man's leg was as good as ever.

"Rub it on the holes in my patches," suggested Scraps, and Ojo triedit, but without any effect.

"The charm you need is a needle and thread," said the Shaggy Man. "Butdo not worry, 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, orthat I've been stuck up," said the Patchwork Girl.

"You were certainly stuck up until we pulled out those quills,"observed Ojo, with a laugh.

So now they went on again and coming presently to a pond of muddy waterthey tied a heavy stone to the bundle of quills and sunk it to thebottom of the pond, to avoid carrying it farther.

Chapter Thirteen

Scraps and the Scarecrow

From here on the country improved and the desert places began to giveway to fertile spots; still no houses were yet to be seen near theroad. There were some hills, with valleys between them, and on reachingthe top of one of these hills the travelers found before them a highwall, running to the right and the left as far as their eyes couldreach. Immediately in front of them, where the wall crossed theroadway, stood a gate having stout iron bars that extended from top tobottom. They found, on coming nearer, that this gate was locked with agreat 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 walland gate. It looks as if no one had passed through in many years."

"Looks are deceiving," declared the Shaggy Man, laughing at theirdisappointed faces, "and this barrier is the most deceiving thing inall Oz."

"It prevents our going any farther, anyhow," said Scraps. "There is noone to mind the gate and let people through, and we've no key to thepadlock."

"True," replied Ojo, going a little nearer to peep through the bars ofthe gate. "What shall we do, Shaggy Man? If we had wings we might flyover the wall, but we cannot climb it and unless we get to the EmeraldCity I won't be able to find the things to restore Unc Nunkie to life."

"All very true," answered the Shaggy Man, quietly; "but I know thisgate, having passed through it many times."

"How?" they all eagerly inquired.

"I'll show you how," said he. He stood Ojo in the middle of the roadand placed Scraps just behind him, with her padded hands on hisshoulders. After the Patchwork Girl came the Woozy, who held a part ofher skirt in his mouth. Then, last of all, was the Glass Cat, holdingfast to the Woozy's tail with her glass jaws.

"Now," said the Shaggy Man, "you must all shut your eyes tight, andkeep them shut until I tell you to open them."

"I can't," objected Scraps. "My eyes are buttons, and they won't shut."

So the Shaggy Man tied his red handkerchief over the Patchwork Girl'seyes and examined all the others to make sure they had their eyes fastshut and could see nothing.

"What's the game, anyhow—blind-man's-buff?" asked Scraps.

"Keep quiet!" commanded the Shaggy Man, sternly. "All ready? Thenfollow 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 arow, expecting every minute to bump against the iron bars. The ShaggyMan also had his eyes closed, but marched straight ahead, nevertheless,and after he had taken one hundred steps, by actual count, he stoppedand said:

"Now you may open your eyes."

They did so, and to their astonishment found the wall and the gatewayfar behind them, while in front the former Blue Country of theMunchkins had given way to green fields, with pretty farm-housesscattered among them.

"That wall," explained the Shaggy Man, "is what is called an opticalillusion. It is quite real while you have your eyes open, but if youare not looking at it the barrier doesn't exist at all. It's the sameway with many other evils in life; they seem to exist, and yet it's allseeming and not true. You will notice that the wall—or what we thoughtwas a wall—separates the Munchkin Country from the green country thatsurrounds the Emerald City, which lies exactly in the center of Oz.There are two roads of yellow bricks through the Munchkin Country, butthe one we followed is the best of the two. Dorothy once traveled theother way, and met with more dangers than we did. But all our troublesare over for the present, as another day's journey will bring us to thegreat Emerald City."

They were delighted to know this, and proceeded with new courage. In acouple of hours they stopped at a farmhouse, where the people were veryhospitable and invited them to dinner. The farm folk regarded Scrapswith much curiosity but no great astonishment, for they were accustomedto seeing extraordinary people in the Land of Oz.

The woman of this house got her needle and thread and sewed up theholes made by the porcupine quills in the Patchwork Girl's body, afterwhich Scraps was assured she looked as beautiful as ever.

"You ought to have a hat to wear," remarked the woman, "for that wouldkeep the sun from fading the colors of your face. I have some patchesand scraps put away, and if you will wait two or three days I'll makeyou a lovely hat that will match the rest of you."

"Never mind the hat," said Scraps, shaking her yarn braids; "it's akind offer, but we can't stop. I can't see that my colors have faded aparticle, as yet; can you?"

"Not much," replied the woman. "You are still very gorgeous, in spiteof your long journey."

The children of the house wanted to keep the Glass Cat to play with, soBungle was offered a good home if she would remain; but the cat was toomuch interested in Ojo's adventures and refused to stop.

"Children are rough playmates," she remarked to the Shaggy Man, "andalthough this home is more pleasant than that of the Crooked Magician Ifear I would soon be smashed to pieces by the boys and girls."

After they had rested themselves they renewed their journey, findingthe road now smooth and pleasant to walk upon and the country growingmore beautiful the nearer they drew to the Emerald City.

By and by Ojo began to walk on the green grass, looking carefullyaround 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 theLaw to pick a six-leaved clover. You must wait until you get Ozma'sconsent."

"She wouldn't know it," declared the boy.

"Ozma knows many things," said the Shaggy Man. "In her room is a MagicPicture that shows any scene in the Land of Oz where strangers ortravelers happen to be. She may be watching the picture of us even now,and noticing everything that we do."

"Does she always watch the Magic Picture?" asked Ojo.

"Not always, for she has many other things to do; but, as I said, shemay be watching us this very minute."

"I don't care," said Ojo, in an obstinate tone of voice; "Ozma's only agirl."

The Shaggy Man looked at him in surprise.

"You ought to care for Ozma," said he, "if you expect to save youruncle. For, if you displease our powerful Ruler, your journey willsurely prove a failure; whereas, if you make a friend of Ozma, she willgladly assist you. As for her being a girl, that is another reason whyyou should obey her laws, if you are courteous and polite. Everyone inOz loves Ozma and hates her enemies, for she is as just as she ispowerful."

Ojo sulked a while, but finally returned to the road and kept away fromthe green clover. The boy was moody and bad tempered for an hour or twoafterward, because he could really see no harm in picking a six-leavedclover, if he found one, and in spite of what the Shaggy Man had saidhe considered Ozma's law to be unjust.

They presently came to a beautiful grove of tall and stately trees,through which the road wound in sharp curves—first one way and thenanother. As they were walking through this grove they heard some one inthe distance singing, and the sounds grew nearer and nearer until theycould distinguish the words, although the bend in the road still hidthe singer. The song was something like this:

"Here's to the hale old bale of straw
That's cut from the waving grain,
The sweetest sight man ever saw
In forest, dell or plain.
It fills me with a crunkling joy
A straw-stack to behold,
For then I pad this lucky boy
With strands of yellow gold."

"Ah!" exclaimed the Shaggy Man; "here comes my friend the Scarecrow."

"What, a live Scarecrow?" asked Ojo.

"Yes; the one I told you of. He's a splendid fellow, and veryintelligent. You'll like him, I'm sure."

Just then the famous Scarecrow of Oz came around the bend in the road,riding astride a wooden Sawhorse which was so small that its rider'slegs nearly touched the ground.

The Scarecrow wore the blue dress of the Munchkins, in which country hewas made, and on his head was set a peaked hat with a flat brim trimmedwith tinkling bells. A rope was tied around his waist to hold him inshape, for he was stuffed with straw in every part of him except thetop 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 wasmerely a bag of cloth, fastened to the body at the neck, and on thefront of this bag was painted the face—ears, eyes, nose and mouth.

The Scarecrow's face was very interesting, for it bore a comical andyet winning expression, although one eye was a bit larger than theother and ears were not mates. The Munchkin farmer who had made theScarecrow had neglected to sew him together with close stitches andtherefore some of the straw with which he was stuffed was inclined tostick out between the seams. His hands consisted of padded whitegloves, with the fingers long and rather limp, and on his feet he woreMunchkin boots of blue leather with broad turns at the tops of them.

The Sawhorse was almost as curious as its rider. It had been rudelymade, in the beginning, to saw logs upon, so that its body was a shortlength of a log, and its legs were stout branches fitted into fourholes made in the body. The tail was formed by a small branch that hadbeen left on the log, while the head was a gnarled bump on one end ofthe body. Two knots of wood formed the eyes, and the mouth was a gashchopped in the log. When the Sawhorse first came to life it had no earsat all, and so could not hear; but the boy who then owned him hadwhittled two ears out of bark and stuck them in the head, after whichthe Sawhorse heard very distinctly.

This queer wooden horse was a great favorite with Princess Ozma, whohad caused the bottoms of its legs to be shod with plates of gold, sothe wood would not wear away. Its saddle was made of cloth-of-goldrichly encrusted with precious gems. It had never worn a bridle.

As the Scarecrow came in sight of the party of travelers, he reined inhis wooden steed and dismounted, greeting the Shaggy Man with a smilingnod. Then he turned to stare at the Patchwork Girl in wonder, while shein turn stared at him.

"Shags," he whispered, drawing the Shaggy Man aside, "pat me intoshape, there's a good fellow!"

While his friend punched and patted the Scarecrow's body, to smooth outthe humps, Scraps turned to Ojo and whispered: "Roll me out, please;I've sagged down dreadfully from walking so much and men like to see astately figure."

She then fell upon the ground and the boy rolled her back and forthlike a rolling-pin, until the cotton had filled all the spaces in herpatchwork covering and the body had lengthened to its fullest extent.Scraps and the Scarecrow both finished their hasty toilets at the sametime, and again they faced each other.

"Allow me, Miss Patchwork," said the Shaggy Man, "to present my friend,the Right Royal Scarecrow of Oz. Scarecrow, this is Miss ScrapsPatches; Scraps, this is the Scarecrow. Scarecrow—Scraps;Scraps—Scarecrow."

They both bowed with much dignity.

"Forgive me for staring so rudely," said the Scarecrow, "but you arethe most beautiful sight my eyes have ever beheld."

"That is a high compliment from one who is himself so beautiful,"murmured Scraps, casting down her suspender-button eyes by lowering herhead. "But, tell me, good sir, are you not a trifle lumpy?"

"Yes, of course; that's my straw, you know. It bunches up, sometimes,in spite of all my efforts to keep it even. Doesn't your straw everbunch?"

"Oh, I'm stuffed with cotton," said Scraps. "It never bunches, but it'sinclined to pack down and make me sag."

"But cotton is a high-grade stuffing. I may say it is even morestylish, not to say aristocratic, than straw," said the Scarecrowpolitely. "Still, it is but proper that one so entrancingly lovelyshould have the best stuffing there is going. I—er—I'm so glad I'vemet you, Miss Scraps! Introduce us again, Shaggy."

"Once is enough," replied the Shaggy Man, laughing at his friend'senthusiasm.

"Then tell me where you found her, and—Dear me, what a queer cat! Whatare you made of—gelatine?"

"Pure glass," answered the cat, proud to have attracted the Scarecrow'sattention. "I am much more beautiful than the Patchwork Girl. I'mtransparent, 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 heartat all."

"No more have I," said the Scarecrow, shaking hands with Scraps, as ifto congratulate her on the fact. "I've a friend, the Tin Woodman, whohas a heart, but I find I get along pretty well without one. Andso—Well, well! here's a little Munchkin boy, too. Shake hands, mylittle man. How are you?"

Ojo placed his hand in the flabby stuffed glove that served theScarecrow for a hand, and the Scarecrow pressed it so cordially thatthe straw in his glove crackled.

Meantime, the Woozy had approached the Sawhorse and begun to sniff atit. The Sawhorse resented this familiarity and with a sudden kickpounded the Woozy squarely on its head with one gold-shod foot.

"Take that, you monster!" it cried angrily.

The Woozy never even winked.

"To be sure," he said; "I'll take anything I have to. But don't make meangry, you wooden beast, or my eyes will flash fire and burn you up."

The Sawhorse rolled its knot eyes wickedly and kicked again, but theWoozy trotted away and said to the Scarecrow:

"What a sweet disposition that creature has! I advise you to chop it upfor kindling-wood and use me to ride upon. My back is flat and youcan't fall off."

"I think the trouble is that you haven't been properly introduced,"said the Scarecrow, regarding the Woozy with much wonder, for he hadnever seen such a queer animal before.

"The Sawhorse is the favorite steed of Princess Ozma, the Ruler of theLand of Oz, and he lives in a stable decorated with pearls andemeralds, 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 theSawhorse highly, and when I visit Ozma she sometimes allows me to ridehim—as I am doing to-day. Now you know what an important personage theSawhorse is, and if some one—perhaps yourself—will tell me your name,your rank and station, and your history, it will give me pleasure torelate them to the Sawhorse. This will lead to mutual respect andfriendship."

The Woozy was somewhat abashed by this speech and did not know how toreply. But Ojo said:

"This square beast is called the Woozy, and he isn't of much importanceexcept that he has three hairs growing on the tip of his tail."

The Scarecrow looked and saw that this was true.

"But," said he, in a puzzled way, "what makes those three hairsimportant? The Shaggy Man has thousands of hairs, but no one has everaccused him of being important."

So Ojo related the sad story of Unc Nunkie's transformation into amarble statue, and told how he had set out to find the things theCrooked Magician wanted, in order to make a charm that would restorehis uncle to life. One of the requirements was three hairs from aWoozy's tail, but not being able to pull out the hairs they had beenobliged to take the Woozy with them.

The Scarecrow looked grave as he listened and he shook his head severaltimes, as if in disapproval.

"We must see Ozma about this matter," he said. "That Crooked Magicianis breaking the Law by practicing magic without a license, and I'm notsure Ozma will allow him to restore your uncle to life."

"Already I have warned the boy of that," declared the Shaggy Man.

At this Ojo began to cry. "I want my Unc Nunkie!" he exclaimed. "I knowhow he can be restored to life, and I'm going to do it—Ozma or noOzma! What right has this girl Ruler to keep my Unc Nunkie a statueforever?"

"Don't worry about that just now," advised the Scarecrow. "Go on to theEmerald City, and when you reach it have the Shaggy Man take you to seeDorothy. Tell her your story and I'm sure she will help you. Dorothy isOzma's best friend, and if you can win her to your side your uncle ispretty safe to live again." Then he turned to the Woozy and said: "I'mafraid 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. "Myeyes 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 most terrible growl—that is, sometimes," said the Woozy, asScraps laughed merrily and the Shaggy Man smiled. But the PatchworkGirl's laugh made the Scarecrow forget all about the Woozy. He said toher:

"What an admirable young lady you are, and what jolly good company! Wemust be better acquainted, for never before have I met a girl with suchexquisite coloring or such natural, artless manners."

"No wonder they call you the Wise Scarecrow," replied Scraps.

"When you arrive at the Emerald City I will see you again," continuedthe Scarecrow. "Just now I am going to call upon an old friend—anordinary young lady named Jinjur—who has promised to repaint my leftear for me. You may have noticed that the paint on my left ear haspeeled off and faded, which affects my hearing on that side. Jinjuralways fixes me up when I get weather-worn."

"When do you expect to return to the Emerald City?" asked the ShaggyMan.

"I'll be there this evening, for I'm anxious to have a long talk withMiss Scraps. How is it, Sawhorse; are you equal to a swift run?"

"Anything that suits you suits me," returned the wooden horse.

So the Scarecrow mounted to the jeweled saddle and waved his hat, whenthe Sawhorse darted away so swiftly that they were out of sight in aninstant.

Chapter Fourteen

Ojo Breaks the Law

"What a queer man," remarked the Munchkin boy, when the party hadresumed its journey.

"And so nice and polite," added Scraps, bobbing her head. "I think heis the handsomest man I've seen since I came to life."

"Handsome is as handsome does," quoted the Shaggy Man; "but we mustadmit that no living scarecrow is handsomer. The chief merit of myfriend is that he is a great thinker, and in Oz it is considered goodpolicy to follow his advice."

"I didn't notice any brains in his head," observed the Glass Cat.

"You can't see 'em work, but they're there, all right," declared theShaggy Man. "I hadn't much confidence in his brains myself, when firstI came to Oz, for a humbug Wizard gave them to him; but I was soonconvinced that the Scarecrow is really wise; and, unless his brainsmake him so, such wisdom is unaccountable."

"Is the Wizard of Oz a humbug?" asked Ojo.

"Not now. He was once, but he has reformed and now assists Glinda theGood, who is the Royal Sorceress of Oz and the only one licensed topractice magic or sorcery. Glinda has taught our old Wizard a good manyclever things, so he is no longer a humbug."

They walked a little while in silence and then Ojo said:

"If Ozma forbids the Crooked Magician to restore Unc Nunkie to life,what shall I do?"

The Shaggy Man shook his head.

"In that case you can't do anything," he said. "But don't bediscouraged yet. We will go to Princess Dorothy and tell her yourtroubles, and then we will let her talk to Ozma. Dorothy has thekindest little heart in the world, and she has been through so manytroubles herself that she is sure to sympathize with you."

"Is Dorothy the little girl who came here from Kansas?" asked the boy.

"Yes. In Kansas she was Dorothy Gale. I used to know her there, and shebrought me to the Land of Oz. But now Ozma has made her a Princess, andDorothy's Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are here, too." Here the Shaggy Manuttered a long sigh, and then he continued: "It's a queer country, thisLand of Oz; but I like it, nevertheless."

"What is queer about it?" asked Scraps.

"You, for instance," said he.

"Did you see no girls as beautiful as I am in your own country?" sheinquired.

"None with the same gorgeous, variegated beauty," he confessed. "InAmerica a girl stuffed with cotton wouldn't be alive, nor would anyonethink of making a girl out of a patchwork quilt."

"What a queer country America must be!" she exclaimed in greatsurprise. "The Scarecrow, whom you say is wise, told me I am the mostbeautiful creature he has ever seen."

"I know; and perhaps you are—from a scarecrow point of view," repliedthe Shaggy Man; but why he smiled as he said it Scraps could notimagine.

As they drew nearer to the Emerald City the travelers were filled withadmiration for the splendid scenery they beheld. Handsome houses stoodon both sides of the road and each had a green lawn before it as wellas a pretty flower garden.

"In another hour," said the Shaggy Man, "we shall come in sight of thewalls of the Royal City."

He was walking ahead, with Scraps, and behind them came the Woozy andthe Glass Cat. Ojo had lagged behind, for in spite of the warnings hehad received the boy's eyes were fastened on the clover that borderedthe road of yellow bricks and he was eager to discover if such a thingas a six-leaved clover really existed.

Suddenly he stopped short and bent over to examine the ground moreclosely. Yes; here at last was a clover with six spreading leaves. Hecounted them carefully, to make sure. In an instant his heart leapedwith joy, for this was one of the important things he had come for—oneof the things that would restore dear Unc Nunkie to life.

He glanced ahead and saw that none of his companions was looking back.Neither were any other people about, for it was midway between twohouses. The temptation was too strong to be resisted.

"I might search for weeks and weeks, and never find another six-leavedclover," he told himself, and quickly plucking the stem from the planthe placed the prized clover in his basket, covering it with the otherthings he carried there. Then, trying to look as if nothing hadhappened, he hurried forward and overtook his comrades.

The Emerald City, which is the most splendid as well as the mostbeautiful city in any fairyland, is surrounded by a high, thick wall ofgreen marble, polished smooth and set with glistening emeralds. Thereare four gates, one facing the Munchkin Country, one facing the Countryof the Winkies, one facing the Country of the Quadlings and one facingthe Country of the Gillikins. The Emerald City lies directly in thecenter of these four important countries of Oz. The gates had bars ofpure gold, and on either side of each gateway were built high towers,from which floated gay banners. Other towers were set at distancesalong the walls, which were broad enough for four people to walkabreast upon.

This enclosure, all green and gold and glittering with precious gems,was indeed a wonderful sight to greet our travelers, who first observedit from the top of a little hill; but beyond the wall was the vast cityit surrounded, and hundreds of jeweled spires, domes and minarets,flaunting flags and banners, reared their crests far above the towersof the gateways. In the center of the city our friends could see thetops of many magnificent trees, some nearly as tall as the spires ofthe buildings, and the Shaggy Man told them that these trees were inthe royal gardens of Princess Ozma.

They stood a long time on the hilltop, feasting their eyes on thesplendor of the Emerald City.

"Whee!" exclaimed Scraps, clasping her padded hands in ecstacy,"that'll do for me to live in, all right. No more of the MunchkinCountry for these patches—and no more of the Crooked Magician!"

"Why, you belong to Dr. Pipt," replied Ojo, looking at her inamazement. "You were made for a servant, Scraps, so you are personalproperty and not your own mistress."

"Bother Dr. Pipt! If he wants me, let him come here and get me. I'llnot go back to his den of my own accord; that's certain. Only one placein the Land of Oz is fit to live in, and that's the Emerald City. It'slovely! It's almost as beautiful as I am, Ojo."

"In this country," remarked the Shaggy Man, "people live wherever ourRuler tells them to. It wouldn't do to have everyone live in theEmerald City, you know, for some must plow the land and raise grainsand fruits and vegetables, while others chop wood in the forests, orfish 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 theShaggy Man. "There's a freedom and independence in country life thatnot even the Emerald City can give one. I know that lots of the citypeople would like to get back to the land. The Scarecrow lives in thecountry, and so do the Tin Woodman and Jack Pumpkinhead; yet all threewould be welcome to live in Ozma's palace if they cared to. Too muchsplendor becomes tiresome, you know. But, if we're to reach the EmeraldCity before sundown, we must hurry, for it is yet a long way off."

The entrancing sight of the city had put new energy into them all andthey hurried forward with lighter steps than before. There was much tointerest them along the roadway, for the houses were now set moreclosely together and they met a good many people who were coming orgoing from one place or another. All these seemed happy-faced, pleasantpeople, who nodded graciously to the strangers as they passed, andexchanged words of greeting.

At last they reached the great gateway, just as the sun was setting andadding its red glow to the glitter of the emeralds on the green wallsand spires. Somewhere inside the city a band could be heard playingsweet music; a soft, subdued hum, as of many voices, reached theirears; from the neighboring yards came the low mooing of cows waiting tobe milked.

They were almost at the gate when the golden bars slid back and a tallsoldier stepped out and faced them. Ojo thought he had never seen sotall a man before. The soldier wore a handsome green and gold uniform,with a tall hat in which was a waving plume, and he had a belt thicklyencrusted with jewels. But the most peculiar thing about him was hislong green beard, which fell far below his waist and perhaps made himseem taller than he really was.

"Halt!" said the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, not in a stern voicebut rather in a friendly tone.

They halted before he spoke and stood looking at him.

"Good evening, Colonel," said the Shaggy Man. "What's the news since Ileft? Anything important?"

"Billina has hatched out thirteen new chickens," replied the Soldierwith the Green Whiskers, "and they're the cutest little fluffy yellowballs you ever saw. The Yellow Hen is mighty proud of those children, Ican tell you."

"She has a right to be," agreed the Shaggy Man. "Let me see; that'sabout seven thousand chicks she has hatched out; isn't it, General?"

"That, at least," was the reply. "You will have to visit Billina andcongratulate her."

"It will give me pleasure to do that," said the Shaggy Man. "But youwill observe that I have brought some strangers home with me. I amgoing to take them to see Dorothy."

"One moment, please," said the soldier, barring their way as theystarted to enter the gate. "I am on duty, and I have orders to execute.Is anyone in your party named Ojo the Unlucky?"

"Why, that's me!" cried Ojo, astonished at hearing his name on the lipsof a stranger.

The Soldier with the Green Whiskers nodded. "I thought so," said he,"and I am sorry 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 paperfrom his breast pocket and glanced at it. "Oh, yes; you are to bearrested for willfully 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 dearchild—what are you, a rummage sale or a guess-me-quick?—in me youbehold the Body-Guard of our gracious Ruler, Princess Ozma, as well asthe Royal Army of Oz and the Police Force of the Emerald City."

"And only one man!" exclaimed the Patchwork Girl.

"Only one, and plenty enough. In my official positions I've had nothingto do for a good many years—so long that I began to fear I wasabsolutely useless—until to-day. An hour ago I was called to thepresence of her Highness, Ozma of Oz, and told to arrest a boy namedOjo the Unlucky, who was journeying from the Munchkin Country to theEmerald City and would arrive in a short time. This command soastonished me that I nearly fainted, for it is the first time anyonehas merited arrest since I can remember. You are rightly named Ojo theUnlucky, my poor boy, since you have broken a Law of Oz.

"But you are wrong," said Scraps. "Ozma is wrong—you are allwrong—for Ojo has broken no Law."

"Then he will soon be free again," replied the Soldier with the GreenWhiskers. "Anyone accused of crime is given a fair trial by our Rulerand has every chance to prove his innocence. But just now Ozma's ordersmust be obeyed."

With this he took from his pocket a pair of handcuffs made of gold andset with rubies and diamonds, and these he snapped over Ojo's wrists.

Chapter Fifteen

Ozma's Prisoner

The boy was so bewildered by this calamity that he made no resistanceat all. He knew very well he was guilty, but it surprised him that Ozmaalso knew it. He wondered how she had found out so soon that he hadpicked 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 tothe Crooked Magician, to whom it belongs."

The Shaggy Man had been gazing earnestly in the boy's face, uncertainwhether to defend him or not; but something he read in Ojo's expressionmade him draw back and refuse to interfere to save him. The Shaggy Manwas greatly surprised and grieved, but he knew that Ozma never mademistakes and so Ojo must really have broken the Law of Oz.

The Soldier with the Green Whiskers now led them all through the gateand into a little room built in the wall. Here sat a jolly little man,richly dressed in green and having around his neck a heavy gold chainto which a number of great golden keys were attached. This was theGuardian of the Gate and at the moment they entered his room he wasplaying a tune upon a mouth-organ.

"Listen!" he said, holding up his hand for silence. "I've just composeda tune called 'The Speckled Alligator.' It's in patch-time, which ismuch superior to rag-time, and I've composed it in honor of thePatchwork 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 theGate. Keep quiet while I play you 'The Speckled Alligator.'"

It wasn't a very bad tune, nor a very good one, but all listenedrespectfully while he shut his eyes and swayed his head from side toside and blew the notes from the little instrument. When it was allover the Soldier with the Green Whiskers said:

"Guardian, I have here a prisoner."

"Good gracious! A prisoner?" cried the little man, jumping up from hischair. "Which one? Not the Shaggy Man?"

"No; this boy."

"Ah; I hope his fault is as small as himself," said the Guardian of theGate. "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 theLaw."

"But no one ever does that!"

"Then he must be innocent, and soon will be released. I hope you areright, Guardian. Just now I am ordered to take him to prison. Get me aprisoner's robe from your Official Wardrobe."

The Guardian unlocked a closet and took from it a white robe, which thesoldier threw over Ojo. It covered him from head to foot, but had twoholes just in front of his eyes, so he could see where to go. In thisattire the boy presented a very quaint appearance.

As the Guardian unlocked a gate leading from his room into the streetsof the Emerald City, the Shaggy Man said to Scraps:

"I think I shall take you directly to Dorothy, as the Scarecrowadvised, and the Glass Cat and the Woozy may come with us. Ojo must goto prison with the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, but he will be welltreated and you need not worry about him."

"What will they do with him?" asked Scraps.

"That I cannot tell. Since I came to the Land of Oz no one has everbeen arrested or imprisoned—until Ojo broke the Law."

"Seems to me that girl Ruler of yours is making a big fuss overnothing," remarked Scraps, tossing her yarn hair out of her eyes with ajerk of her patched head. "I don't know what Ojo has done, but itcouldn't be anything very bad, for you and I were with him all thetime."

The Shaggy Man made no reply to this speech and presently the PatchworkGirl forgot all about Ojo in her admiration of the wonderful city shehad entered.

They soon separated from the Munchkin boy, who was led by the Soldierwith the Green Whiskers down a side street toward the prison. Ojo feltvery miserable and greatly ashamed of himself, but he was beginning togrow angry because he was treated in such a disgraceful manner. Insteadof entering the splendid Emerald City as a respectable traveler who wasentitled to a welcome and to hospitality, he was being brought in as acriminal, handcuffed and in a robe that told all he met of his deepdisgrace.

Ojo was by nature gentle and affectionate and if he had disobeyed theLaw of Oz it was to restore his dear Unc Nunkie to life. His fault wasmore thoughtless than wicked, but that did not alter the fact that hehad committed a fault. At first he had felt sorrow and remorse, but themore he thought about the unjust treatment he had received—unjustmerely because he considered it so—the more he resented his arrest,blaming Ozma for making foolish laws and then punishing folks who brokethem. Only a six-leaved clover! A tiny green plant growing neglectedand trampled under foot. What harm could there be in picking it? Ojobegan to think Ozma must be a very bad and oppressive Ruler for such alovely fairyland as Oz. The Shaggy Man said the people loved her; buthow could they?

The little Munchkin boy was so busy thinking these things—which manyguilty prisoners have thought before him—that he scarcely noticed allthe splendor of the city streets through which they passed. Wheneverthey met any of the happy, smiling people, the boy turned his head awayin shame, although none knew who was beneath the robe.

By and by they reached a house built just beside the great city wall,but in a quiet, retired place. It was a pretty house, neatly paintedand with many windows. Before it was a garden filled with bloomingflowers. The Soldier with the Green Whiskers led Ojo up the gravel pathto 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 thathe is a prisoner," said the soldier. "And, this being the prison, andyou 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 circularroom, where the woman pulled the robe off from Ojo and looked at himwith kindly interest. The boy, on his part, was gazing around him inamazement, for never had he dreamed of such a magnificent apartment asthis in which he stood. The roof of the dome was of colored glass,worked into beautiful designs. The walls were paneled with plates ofgold decorated with gems of great size and many colors, and upon thetiled floor were soft rugs delightful to walk upon. The furniture wasframed in gold and upholstered in satin brocade and it consisted ofeasy chairs, divans and stools in great variety. Also there wereseveral tables with mirror tops and cabinets filled with rare andcurious things. In one place a case filled with books stood against thewall, and elsewhere Ojo saw a cupboard containing all 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 yourjailor. Take off those handcuffs, Soldier, for it is impossible foranyone to escape from this house."

"I know that very well," replied the soldier and at once unlocked thehandcuffs and released the prisoner.

The woman touched a button on the wall and lighted a big chandelierthat 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 forthe prisoner. I'm glad of it, for this is the first time I've ever hadanything to do, in my official capacity," remarked the jailer, in apleased tone.

"It's the same with me, Tollydiggle," laughed the soldier. "But my taskis finished and I must go and report to Ozma that I've done my dutylike a faithful Police Force, a loyal Army and an honest Body-Guard—asI 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, foryou 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 youplease."

"Very well; amuse yourself while I'm gone; I won't be long," and thenshe went out by a door and left the prisoner alone.

Ojo was much astonished, for not only was this unlike any prison he hadever heard of, but he was being treated more as a guest than acriminal. There were many windows and they had no locks. There werethree doors to the room and none were bolted. He cautiously opened oneof the doors and found it led into a hallway. But he had no intentionof trying to escape. If his jailor was willing to trust him in this wayhe would not betray her trust, and moreover a hot supper was beingprepared for him and his prison was very pleasant and comfortable. Sohe took a book from the case and sat down in a big chair to look at thepictures.

This amused him until the woman came in with a large tray and spread acloth on one of the tables. Then she arranged his supper, which provedthe most varied and delicious meal Ojo had ever eaten in his life.

Tollydiggle sat near him while he ate, sewing on some fancy work sheheld in her lap. When he had finished she cleared the table and thenread to him a story from one of the books.

"Is this really 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?" heearnestly asked.

Tollydiggle seemed surprised by the question, but she presentlyanswered:

"We consider a prisoner unfortunate. He is unfortunate in twoways—because he has done something wrong and because he is deprived ofhis liberty. Therefore we should treat him kindly, because of hismisfortune, for otherwise he would become hard and bitter and would notbe sorry he had done wrong. Ozma thinks that one who has committed afault did so because he was not strong and brave; therefore she putshim in prison to make him strong and brave. When that is accomplishedhe is no longer a prisoner, but a good and loyal citizen and everyoneis glad that he is now strong enough to resist doing wrong. You see, itis kindness that makes one strong and brave; and so we are kind to ourprisoners."

Ojo thought this over very carefully. "I had an idea," said he, "thatprisoners were always treated harshly, to punish them."

"That would be dreadful!" cried Tollydiggle. "Isn't one punished enoughin knowing he has done wrong? Don't you wish, Ojo, with all your heart,that you had not been disobedient and broken a Law of Oz?"

"I—I hate to be different from other people," he admitted.

"Yes; one likes to be respected as highly as his neighbors are," saidthe woman. "When you are tried and found guilty, you will be obliged tomake amends, 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 maybe sure she will be just and merciful. Here in the Emerald City peopleare too happy and contented ever to do wrong; but perhaps you came fromsome faraway corner of our land, and having no love for Ozma carelesslybroke one of her Laws."

"Yes," said Ojo, "I've lived all my life in the heart of a lonelyforest, where I saw no one but dear Unc Nunkie."

"I thought so," said Tollydiggle. "But now we have talked enough, solet us play a game until bedtime."

Chapter Sixteen

Princess Dorothy

Dorothy Gale was sitting in one of her rooms in the royal palace, whilecurled up at her feet was a little black dog with a shaggy coat andvery bright eyes. She wore a plain white frock, without any jewels orother ornaments except an emerald-green hair-ribbon, for Dorothy was asimple little girl and had not been in the least spoiled by themagnificence surrounding her. Once the child had lived on the Kansasprairies, but she seemed marked for adventure, for she had made severaltrips to the Land of Oz before she came to live there for good. Hervery best friend was the beautiful Ozma of Oz, who loved Dorothy sowell that she kept her in her own palace, so as to be near her. Thegirl's Uncle Henry and Aunt Em—the only relatives she had in theworld—had also been brought here by Ozma and given a pleasant home.Dorothy knew almost everybody in Oz, and it was she who had discoveredthe Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion, as well asTik-Tok the Clockwork Man. Her life was very pleasant now, and althoughshe had been made a Princess of Oz by her friend Ozma she did not caremuch to be a Princess and remained as sweet as when she had been plainDorothy Gale of Kansas.

Dorothy was reading in a book this evening when Jellia Jamb, thefavorite servant-maid of the palace, came to say that the Shaggy Manwanted 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'veever 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 herstrange visitors in amazement. The Patchwork Girl was the most curiousof all and Dorothy was uncertain at first whether Scraps was reallyalive or only a dream or a nightmare. Toto, her dog, slowly uncurledhimself and going to the Patchwork Girl sniffed at her inquiringly; butsoon he lay down again, as if to say he had no interest in such anirregular creation.

"You're a new one to me," Dorothy said reflectively, addressing thePatchwork Girl. "I can't imagine where you've come from."

"Who, me?" asked Scraps, looking around the pretty room instead of atthe girl. "Oh, I came from a bed-quilt, I guess. That's what they say,anyhow. Some call it a crazy-quilt and some a patchwork quilt. But myname is Scraps—and now you know all about me."

"Not quite all," returned Dorothy with a smile. "I wish you'd tell mehow you came to be alive."

"That's an easy job," said Scraps, sitting upon a big upholstered chairand making the springs bounce her up and down. "Margolotte wanted aslave, so she made me out of an old bed-quilt she didn't use. Cottonstuffing, suspender-button eyes, red velvet tongue, pearl beads forteeth. The Crooked Magician made a Powder of Life, sprinkled me with itand—here I am. Perhaps you've noticed my different colors. A veryrefined and educated gentleman named the Scarecrow, whom I met, told meI am the most beautiful creature in all Oz, and I believe it."

"Oh! Have you met our Scarecrow, then?" asked Dorothy, a little puzzledto understand the brief history related.

"Yes; isn't he jolly?"

"The Scarecrow has many good qualities," replied Dorothy. "But I'msorry to hear all this 'bout the Crooked Magician. Ozma'll be mad ashops 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," explainedBungle, who was keeping at a respectful distance from the little blackdog.

"Dear me," said Dorothy; "I hadn't noticed you before. Are you glass,or what?"

"I'm glass, and transparent, too, which is more than can be said ofsome folks," answered the cat. "Also I have some lovely pink brains;you can see 'em work."

"Oh; is that so? Come over here and let me see."

The Glass Cat hesitated, eyeing the dog.

"Send that beast away and I will," she said.

"Beast! Why, that's my dog Toto, an' he's the kindest dog in all theworld. Toto knows a good many things, too; 'most as much as I do, Iguess."

"Why doesn't he say anything?" asked Bungle.

"He can't talk, not being a fairy dog," explained Dorothy. "He's just acommon United 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, got up and rubbed his head softly against Dorothy'shand, which she held out to him, and he looked up into her face as ifhe had understood every word she had said.

"This cat, Toto," she said to him, "is made of glass, so you mustn'tbother it, or chase it, any more than you do my Pink Kitten. It'sprob'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 comeclose to Dorothy, in order that the girl might "see 'em work." This wasreally interesting, but when Dorothy patted the cat she found the glasscold and hard and unresponsive, so she decided at once that Bunglewould never do for a pet.

"What do you know about the Crooked Magician who lives on themountain?" asked Dorothy.

"He made me," replied the cat; "so I know all about him. The PatchworkGirl is new—three or four days old—but I've lived with Dr. Pipt foryears; and, though I don't much care for him, I will say that he hasalways refused to work magic for any of the people who come to hishouse. He thinks there's no harm in doing magic things for his ownfamily, and he made me out of glass because the meat cats drink toomuch milk. He also made Scraps come to life so she could do thehousework 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 told Dorothy all of Ojo's story and how Unc Nunkie andMargolotte had accidentally been turned to marble by the Liquid ofPetrifaction. Then he related how the boy had started out in search ofthe things needed to make the magic charm, which would restore theunfortunates to life, and how he had found the Woozy and taken himalong because he could not pull the three hairs out of its tail.Dorothy listened to all this with much interest, and thought that sofar Ojo had acted very well. But when the Shaggy Man told her of theMunchkin boy's arrest by the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, becausehe was accused of wilfully breaking a Law of Oz, the little girl wasgreatly shocked.

"What do you s'pose he's done?" she asked.

"I fear he has picked a six-leaved clover," answered the Shaggy Man,sadly. "I did not see him do it, and I warned him that to do so wasagainst the Law; but perhaps that is what he did, nevertheless."

"I'm sorry 'bout that," said Dorothy gravely, "for now there will be noone to help his poor uncle and Margolotte 'cept this Patchwork Girl,the Woozy and the Glass Cat."

"Don't mention it," said Scraps. "That's no affair of mine. Margolotteand Unc Nunkie are perfect strangers to me, for the moment I came tolife they came to marble."

"I see," remarked Dorothy with a sigh of regret; "the woman forgot togive you a heart."

"I'm glad she did," retorted the Patchwork Girl. "A heart must be agreat annoyance to one. It makes a person feel sad or sorry or devotedor 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 Idon't imagine I shall let it bother me about helping Unc Nunkie andMargolotte."

"That's a pretty hard heart of yours," said Dorothy. "And the Woozy, ofcourse—"

"Why, as for me," observed the Woozy, who was reclining on the floorwith his legs doubled under him, so that he looked much like a squarebox, "I have never seen those unfortunate people you are speaking of,and yet I am sorry for them, having at times been unfortunate myself.When I was shut up in that forest I longed for some one to help me, andby 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 help that, and if you'lltell me what to do to help Ojo and his uncle, I'll gladly do it."

Dorothy walked over and patted the Woozy on his square head.

"You're not pretty," she said, "but I like you. What are you able todo; anything 'special?"

"I can make my eyes flash fire—real fire—when I'm angry. When anyonesays: '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 thought I had a very terrifying growl," said the Woozy, withhesitation; "but perhaps I was mistaken."

"Yes," said the Shaggy Man, "you were certainly wrong about that." Thenhe turned to Dorothy and added: "What will become of the Munchkin boy?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head thoughtfully. "Ozma will seehim 'bout it, of course, and then she'll punish him. But how, I don'tknow, 'cause no one ever has been punished in Oz since I knew anythingabout the place. Too bad, Shaggy Man, isn't it?"

While they were talking Scraps had been roaming around the room andlooking at all the pretty things it contained. She had carried Ojo'sbasket in her hand, until now, when she decided to see what was insideit. She found the bread and cheese, which she had no use for, and thebundle of charms, which were curious but quite a mystery to her. Then,turning these over, she came upon the six-leaved clover which the boyhad plucked.

Scraps was quick-witted, and although she had no heart she recognizedthe fact that Ojo was her first friend. She knew at once that becausethe boy had taken the clover he had been imprisoned, and she understoodthat Ojo had given her the basket so they would not find the clover inhis possession and have proof of his crime. So, turning her head to seethat no one noticed her, she took the clover from the basket anddropped it into a golden vase that stood on Dorothy's table. Then shecame forward and said to Dorothy:

"I wouldn't care to help Ojo's uncle, but I will help Ojo. He did notbreak the Law—no one can prove he did—and that green-whiskeredsoldier had no right to arrest him."

"Ozma ordered the boy's arrest," said Dorothy, "and of course she knewwhat she was doing. But if you can prove Ojo is innocent they will sethim free at once."

"They'll have 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 didevery evening, she rang for a servant and ordered the Woozy taken to anice room and given plenty of such food as he liked best.

"That's honey-bees," said the Woozy.

"You can't eat honey-bees, but you'll be given something just as nice,"Dorothy told him. Then she had the Glass Cat taken to another room forthe night and the Patchwork Girl she kept in one of her own rooms, forshe was much interested in the strange creature and wanted to talk withher again and try to understand her better.

Chapter Seventeen

Ozma and Her Friends

The Shaggy Man had a room of his own in the royal palace, so there hewent to change his shaggy suit of clothes for another just as shaggybut not so dusty from travel. He selected a costume of pea-green andpink satin and velvet, with embroidered shags on all the edges andiridescent pearls for ornaments. Then he bathed in an alabaster pooland brushed his shaggy hair and whiskers the wrong way to make themstill more shaggy. This accomplished, and arrayed in his splendidshaggy garments, he went to Ozma's banquet hall and found theScarecrow, the Wizard and Dorothy already assembled there. TheScarecrow had made a quick trip and returned to the Emerald City withhis left ear freshly painted.

A moment later, while they all stood in waiting, a servant threw open adoor, the orchestra struck up a tune and Ozma of Oz entered.

Much has been told and written concerning the beauty of person andcharacter of this sweet girl Ruler of the Land of Oz—the richest, thehappiest and most delightful fairyland of which we have any knowledge.Yet with all her queenly qualities Ozma was a real girl and enjoyed thethings in life that other real girls enjoy. When she sat on hersplendid emerald throne in the great Throne Room of her palace and madelaws and settled disputes and tried to keep all her subjects happy andcontented, she was as dignified and demure as any queen might be; butwhen 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 hall to-night were gathered only old and trustedfriends, so here Ozma was herself—a mere girl. She greeted Dorothywith a kiss, the Shaggy Man with a smile, the little old Wizard with afriendly handshake and then she pressed the Scarecrow's stuffed arm andcried merrily:

"What a lovely left ear! Why, it's a hundred times better than the oldone."

"I'm glad you like it," replied the Scarecrow, well pleased. "Jinjurdid a neat job, didn't she? And my hearing is now perfect. Isn't itwonderful 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 youso far in one day. I didn't expect you back before to-morrow, at theearliest."

"Well," said the Scarecrow, "I met a charming girl on the road andwanted to see more of her, so I hurried back."

Ozma laughed.

"I know," she returned; "it's the Patchwork Girl. She is certainlybewildering, if not strictly beautiful."

"Have you seen her, then?" the straw man eagerly asked.

"Only in my Magic Picture, which shows me all scenes of interest in theLand of Oz."

"I fear the picture didn't do her justice," said the Scarecrow.

"It seemed to me that nothing could be more gorgeous," declared Ozma."Whoever made that patchwork quilt, from which Scraps was formed, musthave selected the gayest and brightest bits of cloth that ever werewoven."

"I am glad you like her," said the Scarecrow in a satisfied tone.Although the straw man did not eat, not being made so he could, heoften dined with Ozma and her companions, merely for the pleasure oftalking with them. He sat at the table and had a napkin and plate, butthe servants knew better than to offer him food. After a little whilehe asked: "Where is the Patchwork Girl now?"

"In my room," replied Dorothy. "I've taken a fancy to her; she's soqueer and—and—uncommon."

"She's half crazy, I think," added the Shaggy Man.

"But she is so beautiful!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, as if that factdisarmed all criticism. They all laughed at his enthusiasm, but theScarecrow was quite serious. Seeing that he was interested in Scrapsthey forbore to say anything against her. The little band of friendsOzma had gathered around her was so quaintly assorted that much caremust be exercised to avoid hurting their feelings or making any one ofthem unhappy. It was this considerate kindness that held them closefriends and enabled them to enjoy one another's society.

Another thing they avoided was conversing on unpleasant subjects, andfor that reason Ojo and his troubles were not mentioned during thedinner. The Shaggy Man, however, related his adventures with themonstrous plants which had seized and enfolded the travelers, and toldhow he had robbed Chiss, the giant porcupine, of the quills which itwas accustomed to throw at people. Both Dorothy and Ozma were pleasedwith this exploit and thought it served Chiss right.

Then they talked of the Woozy, which was the most remarkable animal anyof them had ever before seen—except, perhaps, the live Sawhorse. Ozmahad never known that her dominions contained such a thing as a Woozy,there being but one in existence and this being confined in his forestfor many years. Dorothy said she believed the Woozy was a good beast,honest and faithful; but she added that she did not care much for theGlass Cat.

"Still," said the Shaggy Man, "the Glass Cat is very pretty and if shewere not so conceited over her pink brains no one would object to heras a companion."

The Wizard had been eating silently until now, when he looked up andremarked:

"That Powder of Life which is made by the Crooked Magician is really awonderful thing. But Dr. Pipt does not know its true value and he usesit in the most foolish ways."

"I must see about that," said Ozma, gravely. Then she smiled again andcontinued in a lighter tone: "It was Dr. Pipt's famous Powder of Lifethat enabled me to become the Ruler of Oz."

"I've never heard that story," said the Shaggy Man, looking at Ozmaquestioningly.

"Well, when I was a baby girl I was stolen by an old Witch named Mombiand transformed into a boy," began the girl Ruler. "I did not know whoI was and when I grew big enough to work, the Witch made me wait uponher and carry wood for the fire and hoe in the garden. One day she cameback from a journey bringing some of the Powder of Life, which Dr. Pipthad given her. I had made a pumpkin-headed man and set it up in herpath to frighten her, for I was fond of fun and hated the Witch. Butshe knew what the figure was and to test her Powder of Life shesprinkled some of it on the man I had made. It came to life and is nowour dear friend Jack Pumpkinhead. That night I ran away with Jack toescape punishment, and I took old Mombi's Powder of Life with me.During our journey we came upon a wooden Sawhorse standing by the roadand I used the magic powder to bring it to life. The Sawhorse has beenwith me ever since. When I got to the Emerald City the good Sorceress,Glinda, knew who I was and restored me to my proper person, when Ibecame the rightful Ruler of this land. So you see had not old Mombibrought home the Powder of Life I might never have run away from herand become Ozma of Oz, nor would we have had Jack Pumpkinhead and theSawhorse to comfort and amuse us."

That story interested the Shaggy Man very much, as well as the others,who had often heard it before. The dinner being now concluded, they allwent to Ozma's drawing-room, where they passed a pleasant eveningbefore it came time to retire.

Chapter Eighteen

Ojo is Forgiven

The next morning the Soldier with the Green Whiskers went to the prisonand took Ojo away to the royal palace, where he was summoned to appearbefore the girl Ruler for judgment. Again the soldier put upon the boythe jeweled handcuffs and white prisoner's robe with the peaked top andholes for the eyes. Ojo was so ashamed, both of his disgrace and thefault 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 theSoldier with the Green Whiskers very willingly, anxious that his fatemight be decided as soon as possible.

The inhabitants of the Emerald City were polite people and never jeeredat the unfortunate; but it was so long since they had seen a prisonerthat they cast many curious looks toward the boy and many of themhurried away to the royal palace to be present during the trial.

When Ojo was escorted into the great Throne Room of the palace he foundhundreds of people assembled there. In the magnificent emerald throne,which sparkled with countless jewels, sat Ozma of Oz in her Robe ofState, which was embroidered with emeralds and pearls. On her right,but a little lower, was Dorothy, and on her left the Scarecrow. Stilllower, but nearly in front of Ozma, sat the wonderful Wizard of Oz andon a small table beside him was the golden vase from Dorothy's room,into which Scraps had dropped the stolen clover.

At Ozma's feet crouched two enormous beasts, each the largest and mostpowerful of its kind. Although these beasts were quite free, no onepresent was alarmed by them; for the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tigerwere well known and respected in the Emerald City and they alwaysguarded the Ruler when she held high court in the Throne Room. Therewas still another beast present, but this one Dorothy held in her arms,for it was her constant companion, the little dog Toto. Toto knew theCowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger and often played and romped withthem, for they were good friends.

Seated on ivory chairs before Ozma, with a clear space between them andthe throne, were many of the nobility of the Emerald City, lords andladies in beautiful costumes, and officials of the kingdom in the royaluniforms 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 arrivedwith Ojo, the Shaggy Man entered from a side door, escorting thePatchwork Girl, the Woozy and the Glass Cat. All these came to thevacant 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 voicetrembled a little with fear. Nothing could awe the Patchwork Girl, andalthough the Woozy was somewhat uneasy in these splendid surroundingsthe Glass Cat was delighted with the sumptuousness of the court and theimpressiveness of the occasion—pretty big words but quite expressive.

At a sign from Ozma the soldier removed Ojo's white robe and the boystood face to face with the girl who was to decide his punishment. Hesaw at a glance how lovely and sweet she was, and his heart gave abound of joy, for he hoped she would be merciful.

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. Youare accused of having broken this Law, even after you had been warnednot to do so."

Ojo hung his head and while he hesitated how to reply the PatchworkGirl stepped forward and spoke for him.

"All this fuss is about nothing at all," she said, facing Ozmaunabashed. "You can't prove he picked the six-leaved clover, so you'veno right to accuse him of it. Search him, if you like, but you won'tfind the clover; look in his basket and you'll find it's not there. Hehasn'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 atthe queer Patchwork Girl who dared talk so boldly to their Ruler. ButOzma sat silent and motionless and it was the little Wizard whoanswered Scraps.

"So the clover hasn't been picked, eh?" he said. "I think it has. Ithink the boy hid it in his basket, and then gave the basket to you. Ialso think you dropped the clover into this vase, which stood inPrincess Dorothy's room, hoping to get rid of it so it would not provethe boy guilty. You're a stranger here, Miss Patches, and so you don'tknow that nothing can be hidden from our powerful Ruler's MagicPicture—nor from the watchful eyes of the humble Wizard of Oz. Look,all of you!" With these words he waved his hands toward the vase on thetable, which Scraps now noticed for the first time.

From the mouth of the vase a plant sprouted, slowly growing beforetheir eyes until it became a beautiful bush, and on the topmost branchappeared the six-leaved clover which Ojo had unfortunately picked.

The Patchwork Girl looked at the clover and said: "Oh, so you've foundit. Very well; prove he picked it, if you can."

Ozma turned to Ojo.

"Did you pick the six-leaved clover?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I knew it was against the Law, but I wanted to saveUnc Nunkie and I was afraid if I asked your consent to pick it youwould refuse me."

"What caused you to think that?" asked the Ruler.

"Why, it seemed to me a foolish law, unjust and unreasonable. Even nowI can see no harm in picking a six-leaved clover. And I—I had not seenthe Emerald City, then, nor you, and I thought a girl who would makesuch a silly Law would not be likely to help anyone in trouble."

Ozma regarded him musingly, her chin resting upon her hand; but she wasnot angry. On the contrary she smiled a little at her thoughts and thengrew sober again.

"I suppose a good many laws seem foolish to those people who do notunderstand them," she said; "but no law is ever made without somepurpose, and that purpose is usually to protect all the people andguard their welfare. As you are a stranger, I will explain this Lawwhich to you seems so foolish. Years ago there were many Witches andMagicians in the Land of Oz, and one of the things they often used inmaking their magic charms and transformations was a six-leaved clover.These Witches and Magicians caused so much trouble among my people,often using their powers for evil rather than good, that I decided toforbid anyone to practice magic or sorcery except Glinda the Good andher assistant, the Wizard of Oz, both of whom I can trust to use theirarts only to benefit my people and to make them happier. Since I issuedthat Law the Land of Oz has been far more peaceful and quiet; but Ilearned that some of the Witches and Magicians were still practicingmagic on the sly and using the six-leaved clovers to make their potionsand charms. Therefore I made another Law forbidding anyone fromplucking a six-leaved clover or from gathering other plants and herbswhich the Witches boil in their kettles to work magic with. That hasalmost put an end to wicked sorcery in our land, so you see the Law wasnot a foolish one, but wise and just; and, in any event, it is wrong todisobey a Law."

Ojo knew she was right and felt greatly mortified to realize he hadacted and spoken so ridiculously. But he raised his head and lookedOzma in the face, saying:

"I am sorry I have acted wrongly and broken your Law. I did it to saveUnc Nunkie, and thought I would not be found out. But I am guilty ofthis act and whatever punishment you think I deserve I will sufferwillingly."

Ozma smiled more brightly, then, and nodded graciously.

"You are forgiven," she said. "For, although you have committed aserious fault, you are now penitent and I think you have been punishedenough. Soldier, release Ojo the Lucky and—"

"I beg your pardon; I'm Ojo the Unlucky," said the boy.

"At this moment you are lucky," said she. "Release him, Soldier, andlet him go free."

The people were glad to hear Ozma's decree and murmured their approval.As the royal audience was now over, they began to leave the Throne Roomand soon there were none remaining except Ojo and his friends and Ozmaand 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 forestand ending with his arrival at the Emerald City and his arrest. Ozmalistened attentively and was thoughtful for some moments after the boyhad finished speaking. Then she said:

"The Crooked Magician was wrong to make the Glass Cat and the PatchworkGirl, for it was against the Law. And if he had not unlawfully kept thebottle of Liquid of Petrifaction standing on his shelf, the accident tohis wife Margolotte and to Unc Nunkie could not have occurred. I canunderstand, however, that Ojo, who loves his uncle, will be unhappyunless he can save him. Also I feel it is wrong to leave those twovictims standing as marble statues, when they ought to be alive. So Ipropose 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 youthink, Wizard?"

"That is perhaps the best thing to do," replied the Wizard. "But afterthe Crooked Magician has restored those poor people to life you musttake away his magic powers."

"I will," promised Ozma.

"Now tell me, please, what magic things must you find?" continued theWizard, addressing Ojo.

"The three hairs 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 cloverI—I—"

"You may take it and keep it," said Ozma. "That will not be breakingthe Law, for it is already picked, and the crime of picking it isforgiven."

"Thank you!" cried Ojo gratefully. Then he continued: "The next thing Imust find is a gill of water from a dark well."

The Wizard shook his head. "That," said he, "will be a hard task, butif you travel far enough you may discover it."

"I am willing 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 sheturned to Ozma and asked: "May I go with Ojo, to help him?"

"Would you like to?" returned Ozma.

"Yes. I know Oz pretty well, but Ojo doesn't know it at all. I'm sorryfor his uncle and poor Margolotte and I'd like to help save them. May Igo?"

"If you wish to," replied Ozma.

"If Dorothy goes, then I must go to take care of her," said theScarecrow, decidedly. "A dark well can only be discovered in someout-of-the-way place, and there may be dangers there."

"You have my permission to accompany Dorothy," said Ozma. "And whileyou are gone I will take care of the Patchwork Girl."

"I'll take care of myself," announced Scraps, "for I'm going with theScarecrow and Dorothy. I promised Ojo to help him find the things hewants and I'll stick to my promise."

"Very well," replied Ozma. "But I see no need for Ojo to take the GlassCat and the Woozy."

"I prefer to remain here," said the cat. "I've nearly been nicked halfa dozen times, already, and if they're going into dangers it's best forme to keep away from them."

"Let Jellia Jamb keep her till Ojo returns," suggested Dorothy. "Wewon't need to take the Woozy, either, but he ought to be saved becauseof the three hairs in his tail."

"Better take me along," said the Woozy. "My eyes can flash fire, youknow, and I can growl—a little."

"I'm sure you'll be safer here," Ozma decided, and the Woozy made nofurther objection to the plan.

After consulting together they decided that Ojo and his party shouldleave the very next day to search for the gill of water from a darkwell, so they now separated to make preparations for the journey.

Ozma gave the Munchkin boy a room in the palace for that night and theafternoon he passed with Dorothy—getting acquainted, as she said—andreceiving advice from the Shaggy Man as to where they must go. TheShaggy Man had wandered in many parts of Oz, and so had Dorothy, forthat matter, yet neither of them knew where a dark well was to be found.

"If such a thing 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 ofthe country, no one there would need a dark well. P'raps there isn'tsuch a thing."

"Oh, there must be!" returned Ojo, positively; "or else the recipe ofDr. Pipt wouldn't call for it."

"That's true," agreed Dorothy; "and, if it's anywhere in the Land ofOz, we're bound to find it."

"Well, we're bound to search for it, anyhow," said the Scarecrow. "Asfor finding it, we must trust to luck."

"Don't do that," begged Ojo, earnestly. "I'm called Ojo the Unlucky,you know."

Chapter Nineteen

Trouble with the Tottenhots

A day's journey from the Emerald City brought the little band ofadventurers to the home of Jack Pumpkinhead, which was a house formedfrom the shell of an immense pumpkin. Jack had made it himself and wasvery proud of it. There was a door, and several windows, and throughthe top was stuck a stovepipe that led from a small stove inside. Thedoor was reached by a flight of three steps and there was a good flooron which was arranged some furniture that was quite comfortable.

It is certain that Jack Pumpkinhead might have had a much finer houseto live in had he wanted it, for Ozma loved the stupid fellow, who hadbeen her earliest companion; but Jack preferred his pumpkin house, asit matched himself very well, and in this he was not so stupid, afterall.

The body of this remarkable person was made of wood, branches of treesof various sizes having been used for the purpose. This woodenframework was covered by a red shirt—with white spots in it—bluetrousers, a yellow vest, a jacket of green-and-gold and stout leathershoes. The neck was a sharpened stick on which the pumpkin head wasset, and the eyes, ears, nose and mouth were carved on the skin of thepumpkin, very like a child's jack-o'-lantern.

The house of this interesting creation stood in the center of a vastpumpkin-field, where the vines grew in profusion and bore pumpkins ofextraordinary size as well as those which were smaller. Some of thepumpkins now ripening on the vines were almost as large as Jack'shouse, and he told Dorothy he intended to add another pumpkin to hismansion.

The travelers were cordially welcomed to this quaint domicile andinvited to pass the night there, which they had planned to do. ThePatchwork Girl was greatly interested in Jack and examined himadmiringly.

"You are quite handsome," she said; "but not as really beautiful as theScarecrow."

Jack turned, at this, to examine the Scarecrow critically, and his oldfriend slyly winked one painted eye at him.

"There is no accounting for tastes," remarked the Pumpkinhead, with asigh. "An old crow once told me I was very fascinating, but of coursethe bird might have been mistaken. Yet I have noticed that the crowsusually avoid the Scarecrow, who is a very honest fellow, in his way,but stuffed. I am not stuffed, you will observe; my body is good solidhickory."

"I adore stuffing," said the Patchwork Girl.

"Well, as for that, my head is stuffed with pumpkin-seeds," declaredJack. "I use them for brains, and when they are fresh I amintellectual. Just now, I regret 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 timethey spoil. That is why I grow such a great field of pumpkins—that Imay 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 beforeme, and use the face for a pattern to go by. Sometimes the faces Icarve are better than others—more expressive and cheerful, youknow—but I think they average very well."

Before she had started on the journey Dorothy had packed a knapsackwith the things she might need, and this knapsack the Scarecrow carriedstrapped to his back. The little girl wore a plain gingham dress and achecked sunbonnet, as she knew they were best fitted for travel. Ojoalso had brought along his basket, to which Ozma had added a bottle of"Square Meal Tablets" and some fruit. But Jack Pumpkinhead grew a lotof things in his garden besides pumpkins, so he cooked for them a finevegetable soup and gave Dorothy, Ojo and Toto, the only ones who foundit necessary to eat, a pumpkin pie and some green cheese. For beds theymust use the sweet dried grasses which Jack had strewn along one sideof the room, but that satisfied Dorothy and Ojo very well. Toto, ofcourse, slept beside his little mistress.

The Scarecrow, Scraps and the Pumpkinhead were tireless and had no needto sleep, so they sat up and talked together all night; but they stayedoutside the house, under the bright stars, and talked in low tones soas not to disturb the sleepers. During the conversation the Scarecrowexplained their quest for a dark well, and asked Jack's advice where tofind it.

The Pumpkinhead considered the matter gravely.

"That is going to be a difficult task," said he, "and if I were you I'dtake any ordinary well and enclose it, so as to make it dark."

"I fear that wouldn't do," replied the Scarecrow. "The well must benaturally 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."

"How much is a gill?"

"Why—a gill is a gill, of course," answered the Scarecrow, who did notwish to display his ignorance.

"I know!" cried Scraps. "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch—"

"No, no; that's wrong," interrupted the Scarecrow. "There are two kindsof 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 they asked Dorothy, and she said:

"I don't just know how much a gill is, but I've brought along a goldflask that holds a pint. That's more than a gill, I'm sure, and theCrooked Magician may measure it to suit himself. But the thing that'sbothering us most, Jack, is to find the well."

Jack gazed around the landscape, for he was standing in the doorway ofhis house.

"This is a flat country, so you won't find any dark wells here," saidhe. "You must go into the mountains, where rocks and caverns are."

"And where is that?" asked Ojo.

"In the Quadling Country, which lies south of here," replied theScarecrow. "I've known all along that we must go to the mountains."

"So have I," said Dorothy.

"But—goodness me!—the Quadling Country is full of dangers," declaredJack. "I've never been there myself, but—"

"I have," said the Scarecrow. "I've faced the dreadful Hammerheads,which have no arms and butt you like a goat; and I've faced theFighting 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 therewe're sure 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 the South Country, where mountains androcks and caverns and forests of great trees abounded. This part of theLand of Oz, while it belonged to Ozma and owed her allegiance, was sowild and secluded that many queer peoples hid in its jungles and livedin their own way, without even a knowledge that they had a Ruler in theEmerald City. If they were left alone, these creatures never troubledthe inhabitants of the rest of Oz, but those who invaded their domainsencountered many dangers from them.

It was a two days journey from Jack Pumkinhead's house to the edge ofthe Quadling Country, for neither Dorothy nor Ojo could walk very fastand they often stopped by the wayside to rest. The first night theyslept on the broad fields, among the buttercups and daisies, and theScarecrow covered the children with a gauze blanket taken from hisknapsack, so they would not be chilled by the night air. Toward eveningof the second day they reached a sandy plain where walking wasdifficult; but some distance before them they saw a group of palmtrees, with many curious black dots under them; so they trudged bravelyon to reach that place by dark and spend the night under the shelter ofthe trees.

The black dots grew larger as they advanced and although the light wasdim 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 that for a time this would be their last night on theplains.

Twilight had fallen by the time they came to the trees, beneath whichwere the black, circular objects they had marked from a distance.Dozens of them were scattered around and Dorothy bent near to one,which was about as tall as she was, to examine it more closely. As shedid so the top flew open and out popped a dusky creature, rising itslength into the air and then plumping down upon the ground just besidethe little girl. Another and another popped out of the circular,pot-like dwelling, while from all the other black objects came poppingmore creatures—very like jumping-jacks when their boxes areunhooked—until fully a hundred stood gathered around our little groupof travelers.

By this time Dorothy had discovered they were people, tiny andcuriously formed, but still people. Their skins were dusky and theirhair stood straight up, like wires, and was brilliant scarlet in color.Their bodies were bare except for skins fastened around their waistsand they wore bracelets on their ankles and wrists, and necklaces, andgreat pendant earrings.

Toto crouched beside his mistress and wailed as if he did not likethese strange creatures a bit. Scraps began to mutter something about"hoppity, poppity, jumpity, dump!" but no one paid any attention toher. Ojo kept close to the Scarecrow and the Scarecrow kept close toDorothy; but the little girl turned 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 each Tottenhot
Waits 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 youmustn't expect us to play with you all night, for we've traveled allday and some of us are tired."

"And we never gamble," added the Patchwork Girl. "It's against the Law."

These remarks were greeted with shouts of laughter by the impishcreatures and one seized the Scarecrow's arm and was astonished to findthe straw man whirl around so easily. So the Tottenhot raised theScarecrow 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 gleethey continued throwing the Scarecrow here and there, as if he had beena basket-ball.

Presently another imp seized Scraps and began to throw her about, inthe same way. They found her a little heavier than the Scarecrow butstill light enough to be tossed like a sofa-cushion, and they wereenjoying the sport immensely when Dorothy, angry and indignant at thetreatment her friends were receiving, rushed among the Tottenhots andbegan slapping and pushing them until she had rescued the Scarecrow andthe Patchwork Girl and held them close on either side of her. Perhapsshe would not have accomplished this victory so easily had not Totohelped her, barking and snapping at the bare legs of the imps untilthey were glad to flee from his attack. As for Ojo, some of thecreatures had attempted to toss him, also, but finding his body tooheavy they threw him to the ground and a row of the imps sat on him andheld him from assisting Dorothy in her battle.

The little brown folks were much surprised at being attacked by thegirl and the dog, and one or two who had been slapped hardest began tocry. Then suddenly they gave a shout, all together, and disappeared ina flash into their various houses, the tops of which closed with aseries of pops that sounded like a bunch of firecrackers being exploded.

The adventurers now found themselves alone, and Dorothy asked anxiously:

"Is anybody hurt?"

"Not me," answered the Scarecrow. "They have given my straw a goodshaking up and taken all the lumps out of it. I am now in splendidcondition and am really obliged to the Tottenhots for their kindtreatment."

"I feel much the same way," said Scraps. "My cotton stuffing had saggeda good deal with the day's walking and they've loosened it up until Ifeel as plump as a sausage. But the play was a little rough and I'd hadquite enough of it when you interfered."

"Six of them sat on me," said Ojo, "but as they are so little theydidn't hurt me much."

Just then the roof of the house in front of them opened and a Tottenhotstuck his head out, very cautiously, and looked at the strangers.

"Can't you take a joke?" he asked, reproachfully; "haven't you any funin you at all?"

"If I had such a quality," replied the Scarecrow, "your people wouldhave knocked it out of me. But I don't bear grudges. I forgive you."

"So do I," 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? Wecan't be shut up here all night, because this is our time to play; nordo we care to come out and be chewed up by a savage beast or slapped byan angry girl. That slapping hurts like sixty; some of my folks arecrying about it. So here's the proposition: you let us alone and we'lllet you alone."

"You began it," declared Dorothy.

"Well, you ended it, so we won't argue the matter. May we come outagain? Or are you still cruel and slappy?"

"Tell you what we'll do," said Dorothy. "We're all tired and want tosleep until morning. If you'll let us get into your house, and staythere until daylight, you can play outside all you want to."

"That's a bargain!" cried the Tottenhot eagerly, and he gave a queerwhistle that brought his people popping out of their houses on allsides. When the house before them was vacant, Dorothy and Ojo leanedover the hole and looked in, but could see nothing because it was sodark. But if the Tottenhots slept there all day the children thoughtthey could sleep there at night, so Ojo lowered himself down and foundit was not very deep.

"There's a soft cushion all over," said he. "Come on in."

Dorothy handed Toto to the boy and then climbed in herself. After hercame Scraps and the Scarecrow, who did not wish to sleep but preferredto keep out of the way of the mischievous Tottenhots.

There seemed no furniture in the round den, but soft cushions werestrewn about the floor and 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 ceaseless laughter of the impishTottenhots as they played outside, but Dorothy and Ojo, being wearyfrom their journey, were soon fast asleep.

Toto kept an eye open, however, and uttered low, threatening growlswhenever the racket made by the creatures outside became tooboisterous; and the Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl sat leaningagainst the wall and talked in whispers all night long. No onedisturbed the travelers until daylight, when in popped the Tottenhotwho owned the place and invited them to vacate his premises.

Chapter Twenty

The Captive Yoop

As they were preparing to leave, Dorothy asked: "Can you tell us wherethere is a dark well?"

"Never heard of such a thing," said the Tottenhot. "We live our livesin the dark, mostly, and sleep in the daytime; but we've never seen adark well, or anything like one."

"Does anyone live on those mountains beyond here?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Lots of people. 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, andso we obey. This sandy desert is good enough for us, and we're notdisturbed here," declared the Tottenhot.

So they left the man snuggling down to sleep in his dusky dwelling, andwent out into the sunshine, taking the path that led toward the rockyplaces. They soon found it hard climbing, for the rocks were uneven andfull 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 came to a greatrift in a part of the mountain, where the rock seemed to have split intwo and left high walls on either side.

"S'pose we go this way," suggested Dorothy; "it's much easier walkingthan to climb over the hills."

"How about that sign?" asked Ojo.

"What sign?" she inquired.

The Munchkin boy pointed to some words painted on the wall of rockbeside 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 shook 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 ofrock on either side grew higher and higher. Presently they came uponanother sign which read:

"BEWARE THE CAPTIVE YOOP."

"Why, as for that," remarked Dorothy, "if Yoop is a captive there's noneed to beware of him. Whatever Yoop happens to be, I'd much ratherhave him a captive than running around loose."

"So had I," agreed the Scarecrow, with a nod of his painted head.

"Still," said Scraps, reflectively:

"Yoop-te-hoop-te-loop-te-goop!
Who put noodles in 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 askedthe Patchwork Girl.

"Not queer, but crazy," said Ojo. "When she says those things I'm sureher brains get mixed somehow and work the wrong way.

"I don't see why we are told to beware the Yoop unless he isdangerous," 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 riftwas so small that they were able to touch both walls at the same timeby stretching out their arms. Toto had run on ahead, friskingplayfully, when suddenly he uttered a sharp bark of fear and camerunning back to them with his tail between his legs, as dogs do whenthey are frightened.

"Ah," said the Scarecrow, who was leading the way, "we must be nearYoop."

Just then, as he rounded a sharp turn, the Straw man stopped sosuddenly that all the others bumped against him.

"What is it?" asked Dorothy, standing on tip-toes to look over hisshoulder. But then she saw what it was and cried "Oh!" in a tone ofastonishment.

In one of the rock walls—that at their left—was hollowed a greatcavern, in front of which was a row of thick iron bars, the tops andbottoms being firmly fixed in the solid rock. Over this cavern was abig sign, which Dorothy read with much curiosity, speaking the wordsaloud that all might know what they said:

"MISTER YOOP—HIS CAVE

The Largest Untamed Giant in Captivity.
Height, 21 Feet.—(And yet he has but 2 feet.)
Weight, 1640 Pounds.—(But he waits all the time.)
Age, 400 Years 'and Up' (as they say in the
Department Store advertisements).
Temper, Fierce and Ferocious.—(Except when asleep.)
Appetite, Ravenous.—(Prefers Meat People and
Orange Marmalade.)

STRANGERS APPROACHING THIS CAVE DO SO AT THEIR
OWN PERIL!

P.S.—Don't feed the Giant yourself."

"Very well," said Ojo, with a sigh; "let's go back."

"It's a long way back," declared Dorothy.

"So it is," remarked the Scarecrow, "and it means a tedious climb overthose sharp rocks if we can't use this passage. I think it will be bestto run by the Giant's cave as fast as we can go. Mister Yoop seems tobe asleep just now."

But the Giant wasn't asleep. He suddenly appeared at the front of hiscavern, seized the iron bars in his great hairy hands and shook themuntil they rattled in their sockets. Yoop was so tall that our friendshad to tip their heads way back to look into his face, and they noticedhe was dressed all in pink velvet, with silver buttons and braid. TheGiant's boots were of pink leather and had tassels on them and his hatwas decorated with an enormous pink ostrich feather, carefully curled.

"Yo-ho!" he said in a deep bass voice; "I smell dinner."

"I think you are mistaken," replied the Scarecrow. "There is no orangemarmalade around here."

"Ah, but I eat other things," asserted Mister Yoop. "That is, I eatthem when I can get them. But this is a lonely place, and no good meathas passed by my cave for many years; so I'm hungry."

"Haven't you eaten anything in many years?" asked Dorothy.

"Nothing except six ants and a monkey. I thought the monkey would tastelike meat people, but the flavor was different. I hope you will tastebetter, for you seem plump and tender."

"Oh, I'm not going to be eaten," said Dorothy.

"Why not?"

"I shall keep out of your way," she answered.

"How heartless!" wailed the Giant, shaking the bars again. "Considerhow many years it is since I've eaten a single plump little girl! Theytell me meat is going up, but if I can manage to catch you I'm sure itwill soon be going down. And I'll catch you if I can."

With this the Giant 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 that they touched the opposite wall of therock passage. Then he extended them as far as he could reach toward ourtravelers and found he could almost touch the Scarecrow—but not quite.

"Come a little nearer, please," begged the Giant.

"I'm a Scarecrow."

"A Scarecrow? Ugh! I don't care a straw for a scarecrow. Who is thatbright-colored delicacy behind you?"

"Me?" asked Scraps. "I'm a Patchwork Girl, and I'm stuffed with cotton."

"Dear me," sighed the Giant in a disappointed tone; "that reduces mydinner from four to two—and the dog. I'll save the dog for dessert."

Toto growled, keeping a good distance away.

"Back up," said the Scarecrow to those behind him. "Let us go back alittle way and talk this over."

So they turned and went around the bend in the passage, where they wereout of sight of the cave and Mister Yoop could not hear them.

"My idea," began the Scarecrow, when they had halted, "is to make adash past the cave, going on a run."

"He'd grab us," said Dorothy.

"Well, he can't grab but one at a time, and I'll go first. As soon ashe grabs me the rest of you can slip past him, out of his reach, and hewill soon let me go because I am not fit to eat."

They decided to try this plan and Dorothy took Toto in her arms, so asto protect him. She followed just after the Scarecrow. Then came Ojo,with Scraps the last of the four. Their hearts beat a little fasterthan usual as they again approached the Giant's cave, this time movingswiftly forward.

It turned out about the way the Scarecrow had planned. Mister Yoop wasquite astonished to see them come flying toward him, and thrusting hisarms between the bars he seized the Scarecrow in a firm grip. In thenext instant he realized, from the way the straw crunched between hisfingers, that he had captured the non-eatable man, but during thatinstant of delay Dorothy and Ojo had slipped by the Giant and were outof reach. Uttering a howl of rage the monster threw the Scarecrow afterthem with one hand and grabbed Scraps with the other.

The poor Scarecrow went whirling through the air and so cleverly was heaimed that he struck Ojo's back and sent the boy tumbling head overheels, and he tripped Dorothy and sent her, also, sprawling upon theground. Toto flew out of the little girl's arms and landed somedistance ahead, and all were so dazed that it was a moment before theycould scramble to their feet again. When they did so they turned tolook toward the Giant's cave, and at that moment the ferocious MisterYoop threw the Patchwork Girl at them.

Down went all three again, in a heap, with Scraps on top. The Giantroared so terribly that for a time they were afraid he had brokenloose; but he hadn't. So they sat in the road and looked at one anotherin a rather bewildered way, and then began to feel glad.

"We did it!" exclaimed the Scarecrow, with satisfaction. "And now weare free to go on our way."

"Mister Yoop is very impolite," declared Scraps. "He jarred meterribly. It's lucky my stitches are so fine and strong, for otherwisesuch harsh treatment might rip me up the back."

"Allow me to apologize for the Giant," said the Scarecrow, raising thePatchwork Girl to her feet and dusting her skirt with his stuffedhands. "Mister Yoop is a perfect stranger to me, but I fear, from therude manner in which he has acted, that he is no gentleman."

Dorothy and Ojo laughed at this statement and Toto barked as if heunderstood the joke, after which they all felt better and resumed thejourney in high spirits.

"Of course," said the little girl, when they had walked a way along thepassage, "it was lucky for us the Giant was caged; for, if he hadhappened to be loose, he—he—"

"Perhaps, in that case, he wouldn't be hungry any more," said Ojogravely.

Chapter Twenty-One

Hip Hopper the Champion

They must have had good courage to climb all those rocks, for aftergetting out of the canyon they encountered more rock hills to besurmounted. Toto could jump from one rock to another quite easily, butthe others had to creep and climb with care, so that after a whole dayof such work Dorothy and Ojo found themselves very tired.

As they gazed upward at the great mass of tumbled rocks that coveredthe steep incline, Dorothy gave a little groan and said:

"That's going to be a ter'ble hard climb, Scarecrow. I wish we couldfind the dark well without so much trouble."

"Suppose," said Ojo, "you wait here and let me do the climbing, forit's on my account we're searching for the dark well. Then, if I don'tfind anything, I'll come back and join you."

"No," replied the little girl, shaking her head positively, "we'll allgo 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. Butpresently, in creeping over the big crags, they found a path at theirfeet which wound in and out among the masses of rock and was quitesmooth and easy to walk upon. As the path gradually ascended themountain, although in a roundabout way, they decided to follow it.

"This must be the road to the Country of the Hoppers," said theScarecrow.

"Who are the Hoppers?" asked Dorothy.

"Some people Jack Pumpkinhead told me about," he replied.

"I didn't hear him," replied the girl.

"No; you were asleep," explained the Scarecrow. "But he told Scraps andme that the Hoppers and the Horners live on this mountain."

"He said in the mountain," declared Scraps; "but of course he meant onit."

"Didn't he say what the Hoppers and Horners were like?" inquiredDorothy.

"No; he only said they were two separate nations, and that the Hornerswere the most important."

"Well, if we go to their country we'll find out all about 'em," saidthe girl. "But I've never heard Ozma mention those people, so theycan'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 theQuadlings. When one comes to the edge of Oz, in any direction, there isnothing more to be seen at all. Once you could see sandy desert allaround Oz; but now it's diff'rent, and no other people can see us, anymore than we can see them."

"If the mountain is under Ozma's rule, why doesn't she know about theHoppers and the Horners?" Ojo asked.

"Why, it's a fairyland," explained Dorothy, "and lots of queer peoplelive in places so tucked away that those in the Emerald City never evenhear of 'em. In the middle of the country it's diff'rent, but when youget around the edges you're sure to run into strange little cornersthat surprise you. I know, for I've traveled in Oz a good deal, and sohas the Scarecrow."

"Yes," admitted the straw man, "I've been considerable of a traveler,in my time, and I like to explore strange places. I find I learn muchmore by traveling than by staying at home."

During this conversation they had been walking up the steep pathway andnow found themselves well up on the mountain. They could see nothingaround them, for the rocks beside their path were higher than theirheads. Nor could they see far in front of them, because the path was socrooked. But suddenly they stopped, because the path ended and therewas no place to go. Ahead was a big rock lying against the side of themountain, and this blocked the way completely.

"There wouldn't be a path, though, if it didn't go somewhere," said theScarecrow, wrinkling his forehead in deep thought.

"This is somewhere, isn't it?" asked the Patchwork Girl, laughing atthe bewildered looks of the others.

"The path is locked, the way is blocked,
Yet here we've innocently flocked;
And now we're here it's rather queer
There's no front door that can be knocked."

"Please don't, Scraps," said Ojo. "You make me nervous."

"Well," said Dorothy, "I'm glad of a little rest, for that's a drea'fulsteep path."

As she spoke she leaned against the edge of the big rock that stood intheir way. To her surprise it slowly swung backward and showed behindit a dark hole that looked like the mouth of a tunnel.

"Why, here's where the path goes to!" she exclaimed.

"So it is," answered the Scarecrow. "But the question is, do we want togo where the path does?"

"It's underground; right inside the mountain," said Ojo, peering intothe dark hole. "Perhaps there's a well there; and, if there is, it'ssure to be a dark one."

"Why, that's true enough!" cried Dorothy with eagerness. "Let's go in,Scarecrow; '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 theScarecrow had bravely gone first. Scraps followed closely after thestraw 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 andfilled 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 walkabreast—with Toto in between them—and it had a high, arched roof.They could not see where the light which flooded the place sopleasantly came from, for there were no lamps anywhere visible. Thepassage ran straight for a little way and then made a bend to the rightand another sharp turn to the left, after which it went straight again.But there were no side passages, so they could not lose their way.

After proceeding some distance, Toto, who had gone on ahead, began tobark loudly. They ran around a bend to see what was the matter andfound a man sitting on the floor of the passage and leaning his backagainst the wall. He had probably been asleep before Toto's barksaroused him, for he was now rubbing his eyes and staring at the littledog with all his might.

There was something about this man that Toto objected to, and when heslowly rose to his foot they saw what it was. He had but one leg, setjust below the middle of his round, fat body; but it was a stout legand had a broad, flat foot at the bottom of it, on which the man seemedto stand very well. He had never had but this one leg, which lookedsomething like a pedestal, and when Toto ran up and made a grab at theman's ankle he hopped first one way and then another in a very activemanner, looking so frightened that Scraps laughed aloud.

Toto was usually a well behaved dog, but this time he was angry andsnapped at the man's leg again and again. This filled the poor fellowwith fear, and in hopping out of Toto's reach he suddenly lost hisbalance and tumbled heel over head upon the floor. When he sat up hekicked Toto on the nose and made the dog howl angrily, but Dorothy nowran forward and caught Toto's collar, holding him back.

"Do you surrender?" she asked the man.

"Who? Me?" asked the Hopper.

"Yes; you," 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'sthe proper thing to do. I like to do everything proper, for it savesone 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 animalwhich you are so kindly holding is the first living thing that has everconquered me."

"And you are a Hopper?" she continued.

"Yes. My people live in a great city not far from here. Would you liketo visit it?"

"I'm not sure," she said with hesitation. "Have you any dark wells inyour 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 besuch a thing as a very dark well in the Horner Country, which is ablack spot on the face of the earth."

"Where is the Horner Country?" Ojo inquired.

"The other side of the mountain. There's a fence between the HopperCountry and the Horner Country, and a gate in the fence; but you can'tpass through just now, because 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 saidwe were lacking in understanding, because we had only one leg to aperson. I can't see that legs have anything to do with understandingthings. The Horners each have two legs, just as you have. That's oneleg too many, it seems to me."

"No," declared Dorothy, "it's just the right number."

"You don't need them," argued the Hopper, obstinately. "You've only onehead, and one body, and one nose and mouth. Two legs are quiteunnecessary, and they spoil one's shape."

"But how can you walk, with only one leg?" asked Ojo.

"Walk! Who wants to walk?" exclaimed the man. "Walking is a terriblyawkward way to travel. I hop, and so do all my people. It's so muchmore graceful and agreeable than walking."

"I don't agree with you," said the Scarecrow. "But tell me, is thereany way to get to the Horner Country without going through the city ofthe Hoppers?"

"Yes; there is another path from the rocky lowlands, outside themountain, that leads straight to the entrance of the Horner Country.But it's a long way around, so you'd better come with me. Perhaps theywill allow you to go through the gate; but we expect to conquer themthis afternoon, if we get time, and then you may go and come as youplease."

They thought it best to take the Hopper's advice, and asked him to leadthe way. This he did in a series of hops, and he moved so swiftly inthis strange manner that those with two legs had to run to keep up withhim.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Joking Horners

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 mountainwithin which it lay. It was a magnificent cave, illumined by the soft,invisible light, so that everything in it could be plainly seen. Thewalls were of polished marble, white with veins of delicate colorsrunning through it, and the roof was arched and fantastic and beautiful.

Built beneath this vast dome was a pretty village—not very large, forthere seemed not more than fifty houses altogether—and the dwellingswere of marble and artistically designed. No grass nor flowers nortrees grew in this cave, so the yards surrounding the houses carved indesigns both were smooth and bare and had low walls around them to marktheir boundaries.

In the streets and the yards of the houses were many people all havingone leg growing below their bodies and all hopping here and therewhenever they moved. Even the children stood firmly upon their singlelegs and never lost their balance.

"All hail, Champion!" cried a man in the first group of Hoppers theymet; "whom have you captured?"

"No one," replied the Champion in a gloomy voice; "these strangers havecaptured me."

"Then," said another, "we will rescue you, and capture them, for we aregreater in number."

"No," answered the Champion, "I can't allow it. I've surrendered, andit isn't polite to capture those you've surrendered to."

"Never mind that," said Dorothy. "We will give you your liberty and setyou free."

"Really?" asked the Champion in joyous tones.

"Yes," said the little girl; "your people may need you to help conquerthe Horners."

At this all the Hoppers looked downcast and sad. Several more hadjoined the group by this time and quite a crowd of curious men, womenand children surrounded the strangers.

"This war with our neighbors is a terrible thing," remarked one of thewomen. "Some 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 willtry to stick those horns into our warriors," she replied.

"How many horns 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 andso unprovoked that our brave men decided to fight, in order to berevenged," said the woman.

"What weapons do you fight with?" the Scarecrow asked.

"We have no weapons," explained the Champion. "Whenever we fight theHorners, our plan is to push them back, for our arms are longer thantheirs."

"Then you are better armed," said Scraps.

"Yes; but they have those terrible horns, and unless we are carefulthey prick us with the points," returned the Champion with a shudder."That makes a war with them dangerous, and a dangerous war cannot be apleasant one."

"I see very clearly," remarked the Scarecrow, "that you are going tohave trouble in conquering those Horners—unless we help you."

"Oh!" cried the Hoppers in a chorus; "can you help us? Please do! Wewill be greatly obliged! It would please us very much!" and by theseexclamations the Scarecrow knew that his speech had met with favor.

"How far is it to the Horner Country?" he asked.

"Why, it's just the other side of the fence," they answered, and theChampion added:

"Come with me, please, and I'll show you the Horners."

So they followed the Champion and several others through the streetsand just beyond the village came to a very high picket fence, built allof marble, which seemed to divide the great cave into two equal parts.

But the part inhabited by the Horners was in no way as grand inappearance as that of the Hoppers. Instead of being marble, the wallsand roof were of dull gray rock and the square houses were plainly madeof the same material. But in extent the city was much larger than thatof the Hoppers and the streets were thronged with numerous people whobusied themselves in various ways.

Looking through the open pickets of the fence our friends watched theHorners, who did not know they were being watched by strangers, andfound them very unusual in appearance. They were little folks in sizeand had bodies round as balls and short legs and arms. Their heads wereround, too, and they had long, pointed ears and a horn set in thecenter of the forehead. The horns did not seem very terrible, for theywere not more than six inches long; but they were ivory white and sharppointed, and no wonder the Hoppers feared them.

The skins of the Horners were light brown, but they wore snow-whiterobes and were bare-footed. Dorothy thought the most striking thingabout them was their hair, which grew in three distinct colors on eachand every head—red, yellow and green. The red was at the bottom andsometimes hung over their eyes; then came a broad circle of yellow andthe green was at the top and formed a brush-shaped top-knot.

None of the Horners was yet aware of the presence of strangers, whowatched the little brown people for a time and then went to the biggate in the center of the dividing fence. It was locked on both sidesand over the latch was a sign reading:

"WAR IS DECLARED"

"Can't we go through?" asked Dorothy.

"Not now," answered the Champion.

"I think," said the Scarecrow, "that if I could talk with those Hornersthey would apologize to you, and then there would be no need to fight."

"Can't you talk from this side?" asked the Champion.

"Not so well," replied the Scarecrow. "Do you suppose you could throwme 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 mycountry, so I'll undertake to do the throwing. But I won't promise youwill land on your feet."

"No matter about that," returned the Scarecrow. "Just toss me over andI'll be satisfied."

So the Champion picked up the Scarecrow and balanced him a moment, tosee how much he weighed, and then with all his strength tossed him highinto the air.

Perhaps if the Scarecrow had been a trifle heavier he would have beeneasier to throw and would have gone a greater distance; but, as it was,instead of going over the fence he landed just on top of it, and one ofthe sharp pickets caught him in the middle of his back and held himfast prisoner. Had he been face downward the Scarecrow might havemanaged to free himself, but lying on his back on the picket his handswaved in the air of the Horner Country while his feet kicked the air ofthe 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 hisclothes. How can we get him down, Mr. Champion?"

The Champion shook his head.

"I don't know," he confessed. "If he could scare Horners as well as hedoes crows, it might be a good idea to leave him there."

"This is terrible," said Ojo, almost ready to cry. "I s'pose it'sbecause I am Ojo the Unlucky that everyone who tries to help me getsinto trouble."

"You are lucky to have anyone to help you," declared Dorothy. "Butdon't worry. We'll rescue the Scarecrow somehow."

"I know how," announced Scraps. "Here, Mr. Champion; just throw me upto the Scarecrow. I'm nearly as light as he is, and when I'm on top thefence 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 andthrew her in the same manner he had the Scarecrow. He must have usedmore strength this time, however, for Scraps sailed far over the top ofthe fence and, without being able to grab the Scarecrow at all, tumbledto the ground in the Horner Country, where her stuffed body knockedover two men and a woman and made a crowd that had collected there runlike rabbits to get away from her.

Seeing the next moment that she was harmless, the people slowlyreturned and gathered around the Patchwork Girl, regarding her withastonishment. One of them wore a jeweled star in his hair, just abovehis horn, and this seemed a person of importance. He spoke for the restof his people, who treated him with great respect.

"Who are you, Unknown Being?" he asked.

"Scraps," she said, rising to her feet and patting her cotton waddingsmooth where it had bunched up.

"And where did you come from?" he continued.

"Over the fence. Don't be silly. There's no other place I could havecome from," she replied.

He looked at her thoughtfully.

"You are not a Hopper," said he, "for you have two legs. They're notvery well shaped, but they are two in number. And that strange creatureon top the fence—why doesn't he stop kicking?—must be your brother,or father, or son, for he also has two legs."

"You must have been to visit the Wise Donkey," said Scraps, laughing somerrily that the crowd smiled with her, in sympathy. "But that remindsme, 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 Ivolplaned over the fence was so I could have a talk with you about theHoppers."

"What about the Hoppers?" asked the Chief, frowning.

"You've insulted them, and you'd better beg their pardon," said Scraps."If you don'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 thestupid Hoppers couldn't see."

The Chief smiled as he said this and the smile made his face look quitejolly.

"What was the joke?" asked Scraps.

"A Horner said they have less understanding than we, because they'veonly one leg. Ha, ha! You see the point, don't you? If you stand onyour legs, and your legs are under you, then—ha, ha, ha!—then yourlegs are your under-standing. Hee, hee, hee! Ho, ho! My, but that's afine joke. And the stupid Hoppers couldn't see it! They couldn't seethat with only one leg they must have less under-standing than we whohave two legs. Ha, ha, ha! Hee, hee! Ho, ho!" The Chief wiped the tearsof laughter from his eyes with the bottom hem of his white robe, andall the other Horners wiped their eyes on their robes, for they hadlaughed just as heartily as their Chief at the absurd joke.

"Then," said Scraps, "their understanding of the understanding youmeant led to the misunderstanding."

"Exactly; and so there's no need for us to apologize," returned theChief.

"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 can help it," admitted Jak Horner. "The question is, who'sgoing to explain the joke to the Horners? You know it spoils any joketo be obliged to explain it, and this is the best joke I ever heard."

"Who made the joke?" asked Scraps.

"Diksey Horner. He is working in the mines, just now, but he'll be homebefore long. Suppose we wait and talk with him about it? Maybe he'll bewilling to explain his joke to the Hoppers."

"All right," said Scraps. "I'll wait, if Diksey isn't too long."

"No, he's short; he's shorter than I am. Ha, ha, ha! Say! that's abetter 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 seemedto like their Chief's joke as much as he did. Scraps thought it was oddthat they could be so easily amused, but decided there could be littleharm in people who laughed so merrily.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Peace Is Declared

"Come with me to my dwelling and I'll introduce you to my daughters,"said the Chief. "We're bringing them up according to a book of rulesthat was written by one of our leading old bachelors, and everyone saysthey're a remarkable lot of girls."

So Scraps accompanied him along the street to a house that seemed onthe outside exceptionally grimy and dingy. The streets of this citywere not paved nor had any attempt been made to beautify the houses ortheir surroundings, and having noticed this condition Scraps wasastonished when the Chief ushered her into his home.

Here was nothing grimy or faded, indeed. On the contrary, the room wasof dazzling brilliance and beauty, for it was lined throughout with anexquisite metal that resembled translucent frosted silver. The surfaceof this metal was highly ornamented in raised designs representing men,animals, flowers and trees, and from the metal itself was radiated thesoft light which flooded the room. All the furniture was made of thesame glorious metal, and Scraps asked what it was.

"That's radium," answered the Chief. "We Horners spend all our timedigging radium from the mines under this mountain, and we use it todecorate our homes and make them pretty and cosy. It is a medicine,too, and no one can ever be sick who lives near radium."

"Have you plenty of it?" asked the Patchwork Girl.

"More than we can use. All the houses in this city are decorated withit, just the same as mine is."

"Why don't you use it on your streets, then, and the outside of yourhouses, to make them as pretty as they are within?" she inquired.

"Outside? Who cares for the outside of anything?" asked the Chief. "WeHorners don't live on the outside of our homes; we live inside. Manypeople are like those stupid Hoppers, who love to make an outside show.I suppose you strangers thought their city more beautiful than ours,because you judged from appearances and they have handsome marblehouses and marble streets; but if you entered one of their stiffdwellings you would find it bare and uncomfortable, as all their showis on the outside. They have an idea that what is not seen by others isnot important, but with us the rooms we live in are our chief delightand care, and we pay no attention to outside show."

"Seems to me," said Scraps, musingly, "it would be better to make itall pretty—inside and out."

"Seems? Why, you're all seams, my girl!" said the Chief; and then helaughed heartily at his latest joke and a chorus of small voices echoedthe chorus with "tee-hee-hee! ha, ha!"

Scraps turned around and found a row of girls seated in radium chairsranged along one wall of the room. There were nineteen of them, byactual count, and they were of all sizes from a tiny child to onealmost a grown woman. All were neatly dressed in spotless white robesand had brown skins, horns on their foreheads and three-colored hair.

"These," said the Chief, "are my sweet daughters. My dears, I introduceto you Miss Scraps Patchwork, a lady who is traveling in foreign partsto increase her store of wisdom."

The nineteen Horner girls all arose and made a polite curtsey, afterwhich they resumed their seats 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 aroundand 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 daughtersare being brought up according to the rules and regulations laid downby a leading bachelor who has given the subject much study and ishimself a man of taste and culture. Politeness is his great hobby, andhe claims that if a child is allowed to do an impolite thing one cannotexpect the grown person to do anything better."

"Is it impolite to romp and shout and be jolly?" asked Scraps.

"Well, sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't," replied the Horner,after considering the question. "By curbing such inclinations in mydaughters 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 Scraps, and would have said more on the subject had not thedoor opened to admit a little Horner man whom the Chief introduced asDiksey.

"What's up, Chief?" asked Diksey, winking nineteen times at thenineteen girls, who demurely cast down their eyes because their fatherwas looking.

The Chief told the man that his joke had not been understood by thedull Hoppers, who had become so angry that they had declared war. Sothe only way to avoid a terrible battle was to explain the joke so theycould understand it.

"All right," replied Diksey, who seemed a good-natured man; "I'll go atonce 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 themarble picket fence. The Scarecrow was still stuck on the top of hispicket but had now ceased to struggle. On the other side of the fencewere Dorothy and Ojo, looking between 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 ajoke. You have but one leg each, and we have two legs each. Our legsare under us, whether one or two, and we stand on them. So, when I saidyou had less understanding than we, I did not mean that you had lessunderstanding, you understand, but that you had less standundering, soto speak. Do you understand that?"

The Hoppers thought it over carefully. Then one said:

"That is clear enough; but where does the joke come in?'"

Dorothy laughed, for she couldn't help it, although all the others weresolemn enough.

"I'll tell you where the joke comes in," she said, and took the Hoppersaway to a distance, where the Horners could not hear them. "You know,"she then explained, "those neighbors of yours are not very bright, poorthings, and what they think is a joke isn't a joke at all—it's true,don't you see?"

"True that we have less understanding?" asked the Champion.

"Yes; it's true because you don't understand such a poor joke; if youdid, 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 poorjoke and tell 'em it's pretty good for a Horner. Then they won't daresay you have less understanding, because you understand as much as theydo."

The Hoppers looked at one another questioningly and blinked their eyesand 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 canhelp," he replied. "Let us do as this girl says and laugh with theHorners, so as to make them believe we see the joke. Then there will bepeace again and no need to fight."

They readily agreed to this and returned to the fence laughing as loudand as hard as they could, although they didn't feel like laughing abit. The Horners were much surprised.

"That's a fine joke—for a Horner—and we are much pleased with it,"said the Champion, speaking between the pickets. "But please don't doit again."

"I won't," promised Diksey. "If I think of another such joke I'll tryto forget it."

"Good!" cried the Chief Horner. "The war is over and peace is declared."

There was much joyful shouting on both sides of the fence and the gatewas unlocked and thrown wide open, so that Scraps was able to rejoinher 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 wentthrough the gate and Dorothy asked the Chief Horner how they could getthe 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 toget the ladder, and while he was gone the Horners gathered around andwelcomed the strangers to their country, for through them a great warhad been avoided.

In a little while Diksey came back with a tall ladder which he placedagainst the fence. Ojo at once climbed to the top of the ladder andDorothy went about halfway up and Scraps stood at the foot of it. Totoran around it and barked. Then Ojo pulled the Scarecrow away from thepicket and passed him down to Dorothy, who in turn lowered him to thePatchwork Girl.

As soon as he was on his feet and standing on solid ground theScarecrow said:

"Much obliged. I feel much better. I'm not stuck on that picket anymore."

The Horners began to laugh, thinking this was a joke, but the Scarecrowshook himself and patted his straw a little and said to Dorothy: "Isthere much of a hole in my back?"

The little girl examined him carefully.

"There's quite a hole," she said. "But I've got a needle and thread inthe knapsack and I'll sew you up again."

"Do so," he begged earnestly, and again the Hoppers laughed, to theScarecrow's great annoyance.

While Dorothy was sewing up the hole in the straw man's back Scrapsexamined 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 threadand let him mend his ways."

"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the Chief, and the other Horners at once roaredwith laughter.

"What's funny?" inquired the Scarecrow sternly.

"Don't you see?" asked Diksey, who had laughed even harder than theothers. "That's a joke. It's by odds the best joke I ever made. Youwalk with your legs, and so that's the way you walk, and your legs arethe 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 Irather think it's my splendid intellect."

"If you don't quit it," the Scarecrow told him, "there'll be a worsewar than the one you've escaped from."

Ojo had been deep in thought, and now he asked the Chief: "Is there adark well in any part of your country?"

"A dark well? None that ever I heard of," was the answer.

"Oh, yes," said Diksey, who overheard the boy's question. "There's avery dark well 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 Dikseyto the mine. When Dorothy had patted the straw man into shape again hedeclared he felt as good as new and equal to further adventures.

"Still," said he, "I prefer not to do picket duty again. High lifedoesn't seem to agree with my constitution." And then they hurried awayto escape the laughter of the Horners, who thought this was anotherjoke.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ojo Finds the Dark Well

They now followed Diksey to the farther end of the great cave, beyondthe Horner city, where there were several round, dark holes leadinginto the ground in a slanting direction. Diksey went to one of theseholes and said:

"Here is the mine in which lies the dark well you are seeking. Followme and step carefully and I'll lead you to the place."

He went in first and after him came Ojo, and then Dorothy, with theScarecrow behind her. The Patchwork Girl entered last of all, for Totokept close beside his little mistress.

A few steps beyond the mouth of the opening it was pitch dark. "Youwon't lose your way, though," said the Horner, "for there's only oneway to go. The mine's mine and I know every step of the way. How's thatfor a joke, eh? The mine's mine." Then he chuckled gleefully as theyfollowed him silently down the steep slant. The hole was just bigenough to permit them to walk upright, although the Scarecrow, beingmuch the taller of the party, often had to bend his head to keep fromhitting the top.

The floor of the tunnel was difficult to walk upon because it had beenworn smooth as glass, and pretty soon Scraps, who was some distancebehind the others, slipped and fell head foremost. At once she began toslide downward, so swiftly that when she came to the Scarecrow sheknocked him off his feet and sent him tumbling against Dorothy, whotripped up Ojo. The boy fell against the Horner, so that all wenttumbling down the slide in a regular mix-up, unable to see where theywere going because of the darkness.

Fortunately, when they reached the bottom the Scarecrow and Scraps werein front, and the others bumped against them, so that no one was hurt.They found themselves in a vast cave which was dimly lighted by thetiny grains of radium that lay scattered among the loose rocks.

"Now," said Diksey, when they had all regained their feet, "I will showyou where the dark well is. This is a big place, but if we hold fast toeach 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 withhis hand and found that it contained a quantity of water. "Where's thegold flask, Dorothy?" he asked, and the little girl handed him theflask, which she had brought with her.

Ojo knelt again and by feeling carefully in the dark managed to fillthe flask with the unseen water that was in the well. Then he screwedthe top of the flask firmly in place and put the precious water in hispocket.

"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 cautiouslyup the incline. This time they made Scraps stay behind, for fear shewould slip again; but they all managed to get up in safety and theMunchkin boy was very happy when he stood in the Horner city andrealized that the water from the dark well, which he and his friendshad traveled so far to secure, was safe in his jacket pocket.

Chapter Twenty-Five

They Bribe the Lazy Quadling

"Now," said Dorothy, as they stood on the mountain path, having leftbehind them the cave in which dwelt the Hoppers and the Horners, "Ithink we must find a road into the Country of the Winkies, for there iswhere Ojo wants to go next."

"Is there such 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; butthat 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 countryof Oz," remarked Dorothy. "I think, Scarecrow, we ought to take him tothe Tin Woodman, for he's the Emp'ror of the Winkies and will help usto find what Ojo wants."

"Of course," replied the Scarecrow, brightening at the suggestion. "TheTin Woodman will do anything we ask him, for he's one of my dearestfriends. I believe we can take a crosscut into his country and so getto 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 theleft."

They were obliged to go down the mountain before they found any paththat led in the direction they wanted to go, but among the tumbledrocks at the foot of the mountain was a faint trail which they decidedto follow. Two or three hours walk along this trail brought them to aclear, level country, where there were a few farms and some scatteredhouses. But they knew they were still in the Country of the Quadlings,because everything had a bright red color. Not that the trees andgrasses were red, but the fences and houses were painted that color andall the wild-flowers that bloomed by the wayside had red blossoms. Thispart of the Quadling Country seemed peaceful and prosperous, if ratherlonely, and the road was more distinct and easier to follow.

But just as they were congratulating themselves upon the progress theyhad made they came upon a broad river which swept along between highbanks, and here the road ended and there was no bridge of any sort toallow them to cross.

"This is queer," mused Dorothy, looking at the water reflectively. "Whyshould 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 hiscomical smile, "for no one knows any more than Toto about this road."

Said Scraps:

"Ev'ry time I see a river,
I have chills that make me shiver,
For I never can forget
All the water's very wet.
If my patches get a soak
It will be a sorry joke;
So to swim I'll never try
Till I find the water dry."

"Try to control yourself, Scraps," said Ojo; "you're getting crazyagain. No one intends to swim that river."

"No," decided Dorothy, "we couldn't swim it if we tried. It's too big ariver, and the water moves awful fast."

"There ought to be a ferryman with a boat," said the Scarecrow; "but Idon't see any."

"Couldn't we make a raft?" suggested Ojo.

"There's nothing to make one of," answered Dorothy.

"Wow!" said Toto again, and Dorothy saw he was looking along the bankof the river.

"Why, he sees a house over there!" cried the little girl. "I wonder wedidn't notice it ourselves. Let's go and ask the people how to get'cross the river."

A quarter of a mile along the bank stood a small, round house, paintedbright red, and as it was on their side of the river they hurriedtoward it. A chubby little man, dressed all in red, came out to greetthem, and with him were two children, also in red costumes. The man'seyes were big and staring as he examined the Scarecrow and thePatchwork Girl, and the children shyly hid behind him and peekedtimidly at Toto.

"Do you live here, my good man?" asked the Scarecrow.

"I think I do, Most Mighty Magician," replied the Quadling, bowing low;"but whether I'm awake or dreaming I can't be positive, so I'm not surewhere 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 theScarecrow."

"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 tobe alive, too."

"Very much so," declared Scraps, making a face at him. "But that isn'tyour affair, you know."

"I've a right to be surprised, haven't I?" asked the man meekly.

"I'm not sure; but anyhow you've no right to say I'm dreadful. TheScarecrow, who is a gentleman of great wisdom, thinks I'm beautiful,"retorted Scraps.

"Never mind all that," said Dorothy. "Tell us, good Quadling, how wecan get across the river."

"I don't know," replied the Quadling.

"Don't you ever cross it?" asked the girl.

"Never."

"Don't travelers cross it?"

"Not to my knowledge," said he.

They were much surprised to hear this, and the man added: "It's apretty big river, and the current is strong. I know a man who lives onthe opposite bank, for I've seen him there a good many years; but we'venever 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," answered the man, pointing with one hand, "it goes into theCountry of the Winkies, which is ruled by the Tin Emperor, who must bea mighty magician because he's all made of tin, and yet he's alive. Andthat way," pointing with the other hand, "the river runs between twomountains where dangerous people dwell."

The Scarecrow looked at the water before them.

"The current flows toward the Winkie Country," said he; "and so, if wehad a boat, or a raft, the river would float us there more quickly andmore easily than we could walk."

"That is true," agreed Dorothy; and then they all looked thoughtful andwondered what could be done.

"Why can't the man make us a raft?" asked Ojo.

"Will you?" inquired Dorothy, turning to the Quadling.

The chubby man shook 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 raftis hard work."

"I'll give you my em'rald ring," promised the girl.

"No; I don't care for emeralds. If it were a ruby, which is the color Ilike best, I might work a little while."

"I've got some Square Meal Tablets," said the Scarecrow. "Each one isthe same as a dish of soup, a fried fish, a mutton pot-pie, lobstersalad, charlotte russe and lemon jelly—all made into one little tabletthat you can swallow without trouble."

"Without trouble!" exclaimed the Quadling, much interested; "then thosetablets would be fine for a lazy man. It's such hard work to chew whenyou eat."

"I'll give you six of those tablets if you'll help us make a raft,"promised the Scarecrow. "They're a combination of food which people whoeat are very fond of. I never eat, you know, being straw; but some ofmy 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 thework. But my wife has gone fishing for red eels to-day, so some of youwill have to mind the children."

Scraps promised to do that, and the children were not so shy when thePatchwork 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 thelittle ones much joy.

There were a number of fallen trees near the house and the Quadling gothis axe and chopped them into logs of equal length. He took his wife'sclothesline to bind these logs together, so that they would form araft, and Ojo found some strips of wood and nailed them along the topsof the logs, to render them more firm. The Scarecrow and Dorothy helpedroll the logs together and carry the strips of wood, but it took solong to make the raft that evening came just as it was finished, andwith evening the Quadling's wife returned from her fishing.

The woman proved to be cross and bad-tempered, perhaps because she hadonly caught one red eel during all the day. When she found that herhusband had used her clothesline, and the logs she had wanted forfirewood, and the boards she had intended to mend the shed with, and alot of gold nails, she became very angry. Scraps wanted to shake thewoman, to make her behave, but Dorothy talked to her in a gentle toneand told the Quadling's wife she was a Princess of Oz and a friend ofOzma and that when she got back to the Emerald City she would send thema lot of things to repay them for the raft, including a newclothesline. This promise pleased the woman and she soon became morepleasant, saying they could stay the night at her house and begin theirvoyage on the river next morning.

This they did, spending a pleasant evening with the Quadling family andbeing entertained with such hospitality as the poor people were able tooffer them. The man groaned a good deal and said he had overworkedhimself by chopping the logs, but the Scarecrow gave him two moretablets than he had promised, which seemed to comfort the lazy fellow.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Trick River

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 theirplaces, and the flow of the river was so powerful that it nearly torethe raft from his hands. As soon as they were all seated upon the logshe let go and away it floated and the adventurers had begun theirvoyage toward the Winkie Country.

The little house of the Quadlings was out of sight almost before theyhad cried their good-byes, and the Scarecrow said in a pleased voice:"It won't take us long to get to the Winkie Country, at this rate."

They had floated several miles down the stream and were enjoying theride when suddenly the raft slowed up, stopped short, and then began tofloat back the way it had come.

"Why, what's wrong?" asked Dorothy, in astonishment; but they were alljust as bewildered as she was and at first no one could answer thequestion. Soon, however, they realized the truth: that the current ofthe river had reversed and the water was now flowing in the oppositedirection—toward the mountains.

They began to recognize the scenes they had passed, and by and by theycame in sight of the little house of the Quadlings again. The man wasstanding on the river bank and he called to them:

"How do you do? Glad to see you again. I forgot to tell you that theriver changes its direction every little while. Sometimes it flows oneway, and sometimes the other."

They had no time to answer him, for the raft was swept past the houseand a long distance on the other side of it.

"We're going just the way we don't want to go," said Dorothy, "and Iguess the best thing we can do is to get to land before we're carriedany farther."

But they could not get to land. They had no oars, nor even a pole toguide the raft with. The logs which bore them floated in the middle ofthe stream and were held fast in that position by the strong current.

So they sat still and waited and, even while they were wondering whatcould be done, the raft slowed down, stopped, and began drifting theother way—in the direction it had first followed. After a time theyrepassed the Quadling house and the man was still standing on the bank.He cried out to them:

"Good day! Glad to see you again. I expect I shall see you a good manytimes, as you go by, unless you happen to swim ashore."

By that time they had left him behind and were headed once morestraight toward the Winkie Country.

"This is pretty hard luck," said Ojo in a discouraged voice. "The TrickRiver keeps changing, it seems, and here we must float back and forwardforever, 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 getto shore."

"I don't know whether I could swim, or not," remarked Scraps; "but if Itried it I'd surely ruin my lovely patches."

"My straw would get soggy in the water and I would sink," said theScarecrow.

So there seemed no way out of their dilemma and being helpless theysimply sat still. Ojo, who was on the front of the raft, looked overinto the water and thought he saw some large fishes swimming about. Hefound a loose end of the clothesline which fastened the logs together,and taking a gold nail from his pocket he bent it nearly double, toform a hook, and tied it to the end of the line. Having baited the hookwith some bread which he broke from his loaf, he dropped the line intothe 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 linethat it dragged the raft forward even faster than the current of theriver had carried it. The fish was frightened, and it was a strongswimmer. As the other end of the clothesline was bound around the logshe could not get it away, and as he had greedily swallowed the goldhook at the first bite he could not get rid of that, either.

When they reached the place where the current had before changed, thefish was still swimming ahead in its wild attempt to escape. The raftslowed down, yet it did not stop, because the fish would not let it. Itcontinued to move in the same direction it had been going. As thecurrent reversed and rushed backward on its course it failed to dragthe raft with it. Slowly, inch by inch, they floated on, and the fishtugged and tugged and kept them going.

"I hope he won't give up," said Ojo anxiously. "If the fish can holdout until the current changes again, we'll be all right."

The fish did not give up, but held the raft bravely on its course, tillat last the water in the river shifted again and floated them the waythey 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 theydid not wish to land in this place the boy cut the rope with hispocket-knife and set the fish free, just in time to prevent the raftfrom grounding.

The next time the river backed up the Scarecrow managed to seize thebranch of a tree that overhung the water and they all assisted him tohold fast and prevent the raft from being carried backward. While theywaited here, Ojo spied a long broken branch lying upon the bank, so heleaped ashore and got it. When he had stripped off the side shoots hebelieved he could use the branch as a pole, to guide the raft in caseof emergency.

They clung to the tree until they found the water flowing the rightway, when they let go and permitted the raft to resume its voyage. Inspite of these pauses they were really making good progress toward theWinkie Country and having found a way to conquer the adverse currenttheir spirits rose considerably. They could see little of the countrythrough which they were passing, because of the high banks, and theymet with no boats or other craft upon the surface of the river.

Once more the trick river reversed its current, but this time theScarecrow was on guard and used the pole to push the raft toward a bigrock which lay in the water. He believed the rock would prevent theirfloating backward with the current, and so it did. They clung to thisanchorage until the water resumed its proper direction, when theyallowed the raft to drift on.

Floating around a bend they saw ahead a high bank of water, extendingacross the entire river, and toward this they were being irresistiblycarried. There being no way to arrest the progress of the raft theyclung fast to the logs and let the river sweep them on. Swiftly theraft climbed the bank of water and slid down on the other side,plunging its edge deep into the water and drenching them all with spray.

As again the raft righted and drifted on, Dorothy and Ojo laughed atthe ducking they had received; but Scraps was much dismayed and theScarecrow took out his handkerchief and wiped the water off thePatchwork Girl's patches as well as he was able to. The sun soon driedher and the colors of her patches proved good, for they did not runtogether nor did they fade.

After passing the wall of water the current did not change or flowbackward any more but continued to sweep them steadily forward. Thebanks of the river grew lower, too, permitting them to see more of thecountry, and presently they discovered yellow buttercups and dandelionsgrowing amongst the grass, from which evidence they knew they hadreached the Winkie Country.

"Don't you think we ought to land?" Dorothy asked the Scarecrow.

"Pretty soon," he replied. "The Tin Woodman's castle is in the southernpart 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 andraised the Scarecrow in their arms, as high as they could, thusallowing him a good view of the country. For a time he saw nothing herecognized, 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 thesun. It's quite 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 meansof the pole. It obeyed very well, for the current was more sluggishnow, and soon they had reached the bank and landed safely.

The Winkie Country was really beautiful, and across the fields theycould see afar the silvery sheen of the tin castle. With light heartsthey hurried toward it, being fully rested by their long ride on theriver.

By and by they began to cross an immense field of splendid yellowlilies, the delicate fragrance of which was very delightful.

"How beautiful they are!" cried Dorothy, stopping to admire theperfection of these exquisite flowers.

"Yes," said the Scarecrow, reflectively, "but we must be careful not tocrush or injure any of these lilies."

"Why not?" asked Ojo.

"The Tin Woodman is very kind-hearted," was the reply, "and he hates tosee any living thing hurt in any way."

"Are flowers alive?" asked Scraps.

"Yes, of course. And these flowers belong to the Tin Woodman. So, inorder not to offend him, we must not tread on a single blossom."

"Once," said Dorothy, "the Tin Woodman stepped on a beetle and killedthe little creature. That made him very unhappy and he cried until histears 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 hismind. But he did not tell anybody what the discovery was and kept theidea to himself.

It was a long walk, but a pleasant one, and they did not mind it a bit.Late in the afternoon they drew near to the wonderful tin castle of theEmperor of the Winkies, and Ojo and Scraps, who had never seen itbefore, were filled with amazement.

Tin abounded in the Winkie Country and the Winkies were said to be themost skillful tinsmiths in all the world. So the Tin Woodman hademployed them in building his magnificent castle, which was all of tin,from the ground to the tallest turret, and so brightly polished that itglittered in the sun's rays more gorgeously than silver. Around thegrounds of the castle ran a tin wall, with tin gates; but the gatesstood wide open because the Emperor had no enemies to disturb him.

When they entered the spacious grounds our travelers found more toadmire. Tin fountains sent sprays of clear water far into the air andthere were many beds of tin flowers, all as perfectly formed as anynatural flowers might be. There were tin trees, too, and here and thereshady bowers of tin, with tin benches and chairs to sit upon. Also, onthe sides of the pathway leading up to the front door of the castle,were rows of tin statuary, very cleverly executed. Among these Ojorecognized statues of Dorothy, Toto, the Scarecrow, the Wizard, theShaggy Man, Jack Pumpkinhead and Ozma, all standing upon neat pedestalsof 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 atthe front door that the Tin Woodman heard him and came out in person tosee if it were really his old friend Toto. Next moment the tin man hadclasped the Scarecrow in a warm embrace and then turned to hug Dorothy.But now his eye was arrested by the strange sight of the PatchworkGirl, and he gazed upon her in mingled wonder and admiration.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Tin Woodman Objects

The Tin Woodman was one of the most important personages in all Oz.Though Emperor of the Winkies, he owed allegiance to Ozma, who ruledall 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 polishedand his tin joints well oiled. Also he was very courteous in manner andso kind and gentle that everyone loved him. The Emperor greeted Ojo andScraps with cordial hospitality and ushered the entire party into hishandsome tin parlor, where all the furniture and pictures were made oftin. The walls were paneled with tin and from the tin ceiling hung tinchandeliers.

The Tin Woodman wanted to know, first of all, where Dorothy had foundthe Patchwork Girl, so between them the visitors told the story of howScraps was made, as well as the accident to Margolotte and Unc Nunkieand how Ojo had set out upon a journey to procure the things needed forthe Crooked Magician's magic charm. Then Dorothy told of theiradventures in the Quadling Country and how at last they succeeded ingetting the water from a dark well.

While the little girl was relating these adventures the Tin Woodman satin an easy chair listening with intense interest, while the others satgrouped around him. Ojo, however, had kept his eyes fixed upon the bodyof the tin Emperor, and now he noticed that under the joint of his leftknee a tiny drop of oil was forming. He watched this drop of oil with afast-beating heart, and feeling in his pocket brought out a tiny vialof crystal, which he held secreted in his hand.

Presently the Tin Woodman changed his position, and at once Ojo, to theastonishment of all, dropped to the floor and held his crystal vialunder the Emperor's knee joint. Just then the drop of oil fell, and theboy caught it in his bottle and immediately corked it tight. Then, witha 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 myvalet must have been in oiling me this morning. I'm afraid I shall haveto 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 somereason."

"Yes," declared the Munchkin boy, "I am glad. For one of the things theCrooked Magician sent me to get was a drop of oil from a live man'sbody. I had no idea, at first, that there was such a thing; but it'snow safe in the little crystal vial."

"You are very welcome to it, indeed," said the Tin Woodman. "Have younow secured all the things you were in search of?"

"Not quite all," answered Ojo. "There were five things I had to get,and I have found four of them. I have the three hairs in the tip of aWoozy's tail, a six-leaved clover, a gill of water from a dark well anda drop of oil from a live man's body. The last thing is the easiest ofall 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 thefifth and last thing you need, in order to complete the magic charm?"

"The left wing of a yellow butterfly," said Ojo. "In this yellowcountry, and with your kind assistance, that ought to be very easy tofind."

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 TinWoodman sternly.

"Why not, sir?"

"Why not? You ask me why not? It would be cruel—one of the most crueland heartless deeds I ever heard of," asserted the Tin Woodman. "Thebutterflies are among the prettiest of all created things, and they arevery sensitive to pain. To tear a wing from one would cause itexquisite torture and it would soon die in great agony. I would notpermit such a wicked deed under any circumstances!"

Ojo was astounded at hearing this. Dorothy, too, looked grave anddisconcerted, but she knew in her heart that the Tin Woodman was right.The Scarecrow nodded his head in approval of his friend's speech, so itwas evident that he agreed with the Emperor's decision. Scraps lookedfrom one to another in perplexity.

"Who cares for a butterfly?" she asked.

"Don't you?" inquired the Tin Woodman.

"Not the snap of a finger, for I have no heart," said the PatchworkGirl. "But I want to help Ojo, who is my friend, to rescue the unclewhom he loves, and I'd kill a dozen useless butterflies to enable himto do that."

The Tin Woodman sighed regretfully.

"You have kind instincts," he said, "and with a heart you would indeedbe a fine creature. I cannot blame you for your heartless remark, asyou cannot understand the feelings of those who possess hearts. I, forinstance, have a very neat and responsive heart which the wonderfulWizard of Oz once gave me, and so I shall never—never—never permit apoor yellow butterfly to be tortured by anyone."

"The yellow country of the Winkies," said Ojo sadly, "is the only placein Oz where a yellow butterfly can be found."

"I'm glad of that," said the Tin Woodman. "As I rule the WinkieCountry, I can protect my butterflies."

"Unless I get the wing—just one left wing—" said Ojo miserably, "Ican't save Unc Nunkie."

"Then he must remain a marble statue forever," declared the TinEmperor, firmly.

Ojo wiped his eyes, for he could not hold back the tears.

"I'll tell you what to do," said Scraps. "We'll take a whole yellowbutterfly, alive and well, to the Crooked Magician, and let him pullthe left wing off."

"No, you won't," said the Tin Woodman. "You can't have one of my dearlittle 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 awise little girl, our Ruler, and she may find a way to help Ojo savehis Unc Nunkie."

So the following morning the party started on the journey to theEmerald City, which they reached in due time without any importantadventure. It was a sad journey for Ojo, for without the wing of theyellow butterfly he saw no way to save Unc Nunkie—unless he waited sixyears for the Crooked Magician to make a new lot of the Powder of Life.The boy was utterly discouraged, and as he walked along he groanedaloud.

"Is anything hurting you?" inquired the Tin Woodman in a kindly tone,for the Emperor was with the party.

"I'm Ojo the Unlucky," replied the boy. "I might have known I wouldfail in anything I tried to do."

"Why are you Ojo the Unlucky?" asked the tin man.

"Because I was born on a Friday."

"Friday is not unlucky," declared the Emperor. "It's just one of sevendays. Do you suppose all the world becomes unlucky one-seventh of thetime?"

"It was the thirteenth day of the month," said Ojo.

"Thirteen! Ah, that is indeed a lucky number," replied the Tin Woodman."All my good luck seems to happen on the thirteenth. I suppose mostpeople never notice the good luck that comes to them with the number13, and yet if the least bit of bad luck falls on that day, they blameit to the number, and not to the proper cause."

"Thirteen's my lucky number, too," remarked the Scarecrow.

"And mine," 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 beleft-handed is usually to be two-handed; the right-handed people areusually 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 noseit might be unlucky, but under your arm it is luckily out of the way."

"For all those reasons," said the Munchkin boy, "I have been called Ojothe Unlucky."

"Then we must turn over a new leaf and call you henceforth Ojo theLucky," declared the tin man. "Every reason you have given is absurd.But I have noticed that those who continually dread ill luck and fearit will overtake them, have no time to take advantage of any goodfortune that comes their way. Make up your mind to be Ojo the Lucky."

"How can I?" asked the boy, "when all my attempts to save my dear unclehave failed?"

"Never give up, Ojo," advised Dorothy. "No one ever knows what's goingto happen next."

Ojo did not reply, but he was so dejected that even their arrival atthe Emerald City failed to interest him.

The people joyfully cheered the appearance of the Tin Woodman, theScarecrow and Dorothy, who were all three general favorites, and onentering the royal palace word came to them from Ozma that she would atonce grant them an audience.

Dorothy told the girl Ruler how successful they had been in their questuntil they came to the item of the yellow butterfly, which the TinWoodman positively refused to sacrifice to the magic potion.

"He is quite right," said Ozma, who did not seem a bit surprised. "HadOjo told me that one of the things he sought was the wing of a yellowbutterfly I would have informed him, before he started out, that hecould never secure it. Then you would have been saved the troubles andannoyances of your long journey."

"I didn't mind the journey at all," said Dorothy; "it was fun."

"As it has turned out," remarked Ojo, "I can never get the things theCrooked Magician sent me for; and so, unless I wait the six years forhim to make the Powder of Life, Unc Nunkie cannot be saved."

Ozma smiled.

"Dr. Pipt will make no more Powder of Life, I promise you," said she."I have sent for him and had him brought to this palace, where he nowis, and his four kettles have been destroyed and his book of recipesburned up. I have also had brought here the marble statues of youruncle and of Margolotte, which are standing in the next room."

They were all greatly astonished at this announcement.

"Oh, let me see Unc Nunkie! Let me see him at once, please!" cried Ojoeagerly.

"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 wiseSorceress, Glinda the Good. She knew all about the magic-making of Dr.Pipt, and how he had brought the Glass Cat and the Patchwork Girl tolife, and the accident to Unc Nunkie and Margolotte, and of Ojo's questand his journey with Dorothy. Glinda also knew that Ojo would fail tofind all the things he sought, so she sent for our Wizard andinstructed him what to do. Something is going to happen in this palace,presently, and that 'something' will, I am sure, please you all. Andnow," continued the girl Ruler, rising from her chair, "you may followme into the next room."

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

When Ojo entered the room he ran quickly to the statue of Unc Nunkieand kissed the marble face affectionately.

"I did my best, Unc," he said, with a sob, "but it was no use!"

Then he drew back and looked around the room, and the sight of theassembled company quite amazed him.

Aside from the marble statues of Unc Nunkie and Margolotte, the GlassCat was there, curled up on a rug; and the Woozy was there, sitting onits square hind legs and looking on the scene with solemn interest; andthere was the Shaggy Man, in a suit of shaggy pea-green satin, and at atable sat the little Wizard, looking quite important and as if he knewmuch more than he cared to tell.

Last of all, Dr. Pipt was there, and the Crooked Magician sat humped upin a chair, seeming very dejected but keeping his eyes fixed on thelifeless form of his wife Margolotte, whom he fondly loved but whom henow feared was lost to him forever.

Ozma took a chair which Jellia Jamb wheeled forward for the Ruler, andback of her stood the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and Dorothy, as wellas the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger. The Wizard now arose andmade a low bow to Ozma and another less deferent bow to the assembledcompany.

"Ladies and gentlemen and beasts," he said, "I beg to announce that ourGracious Ruler has permitted me to obey the commands of the greatSorceress, Glinda the Good, whose humble Assistant I am proud to be. Wehave discovered that the Crooked Magician has been indulging in hismagical arts contrary to Law, and therefore, by Royal Edict, I herebydeprive him of all power to work magic in the future. He is no longer acrooked magician, but a simple Munchkin; he is no longer even crooked,but a man like other men."

As he pronounced these words the Wizard waved his hand toward Dr. Piptand instantly every crooked limb straightened out and became perfect.The former magician, with a cry of joy, sprang to his feet, looked athimself in wonder, and then fell back in his chair and watched theWizard with fascinated interest.

"The Glass Cat, which Dr. Pipt lawlessly made," continued the Wizard,"is a pretty cat, but its pink brains made it so conceited that it wasa disagreeable companion to everyone. So the other day I took away thepink brains and replaced them with transparent ones, and now the GlassCat is so modest and well behaved that Ozma has decided to keep her inthe palace as a pet."

"I thank you," said the cat, in a soft voice.

"The Woozy has proved himself a good Woozy and a faithful friend," theWizard went on, "so we will send him to the Royal Menagerie, where hewill have good care and plenty to eat all his life."

"Much obliged," said the Woozy. "That beats being fenced up in a lonelyforest and starved."

"As for the Patchwork Girl," resumed the Wizard, "she is so remarkablein appearance, and so clever and good tempered, that our Gracious Rulerintends to preserve her carefully, as one of the curiosities of thecurious Land of Oz. Scraps may live in the palace, or wherever shepleases, and be nobody's servant 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 faceall sorts of dangers, in order that he might rescue him. The Munchkinboy has a loyal and generous heart and has done his best to restore UncNunkie to life. He has failed, but there are others more powerful thanthe Crooked Magician, and there are more ways than Dr. Pipt knew of todestroy the charm of the Liquid of Petrifaction. Glinda the Good hastold me of one way, and you shall now learn how great is the knowledgeand power of our peerless Sorceress."

As he said this the Wizard advanced to the statue of Margolote and madea magic pass, at the same time muttering a magic word that none couldhear distinctly. At once the woman moved, turned her head wonderinglythis way and that, to note all who stood before her, and seeing Dr.Pipt, ran forward and threw herself into her husband's outstretchedarms.

Then the Wizard made the magic pass and spoke the magic word before thestatue of Unc Nunkie. The old Munchkin immediately came to life andwith a low bow to the Wizard said: "Thanks."

But now Ojo rushed up and threw his arms joyfully about his uncle, andthe old man hugged his little nephew tenderly and stroked his hair andwiped away the boy's tears with a handkerchief, for Ojo was crying frompure happiness.

Ozma came forward to congratulate them.

"I have given to you, my dear Ojo and Unc Nunkie, a nice house justoutside the walls of the Emerald City," she said, "and there you shallmake your future home and be under my protection."

"Didn't I say you were Ojo the Lucky?" asked the Tin Woodman, aseveryone crowded around to shake Ojo's hand.

"Yes; and it is true!" replied Ojo, gratefully.

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