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The Famouis Oz Books 

Since 1900, when L. Frank Baum introduced to the children of 
America THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ and all the other 
exciting characters who inhabit the land of Oz, these delightful fairy 
tales have stimulated the imagination of millions of young readers. 

These are stories which are genuine fantasy creative, funny, 
tender, exciting and surprising. Filled with the rarest and most 
absurd creatures, each of the 14 volumes which now comprise the 
series, has been eagerly sought out by generation after generation 
until today they are known to all except the very young or those 
who were never young at all. 

When, in a recent survey, The New York Times polled a group of 
teen agers on the books they liked best when they were young, the 
Oz books topped the list. 


By L. Frank Baum: 
























The Reilly & Lee Co, 






THROUGH the kindness of Dorothy Gale of Kansas, after- 
ward Princess Dorothy of Oz, an humble writer in the United 
States of America was once appointed Royal Historian of Oz, 
with the privilege of writing the chronicle of that wonderful 
fairyland. But after making six books about the adventures 
of those interesting but queer people who live in the Land of 
Oz, the Historian learned with sorrow that by an edict of the 
Supreme Ruler, Ozma of Oz, her country would thereafter be 
rendered invisible to all who lived outside its borders and that 
all communication with Oz would, in the future, be cut off. 

The children who had learned to look for the books about 
Oz and who loved the stories about the gay and happy people 
inhabiting that favored country, were as sorry as their His- 
torian that there would be no more books of Oz stories. They 
wrote many letters asking if the Historian did not know of 
some adventures to write about that had happened before the 
Land of Oz was shut out from all the rest of the world. But 
he did not know of any. Finally one of the children inquired 
why we couldn't hear from Princess Dorothy by wireless tele- 
graph, which would enable her to communicate to the His- 
torian whatever happened in the far-off Land of Oz without 
bis seeing her, or even knowing just where Oz is. 

That seemed a good idea; so the Historian rigged up a high 
tower in his back yard, and took lessons in wireless telegraphy 
until he understood it, and then began to call 'Princess Dor- 
othy of Oz' by sending messages into the air. 

Now, it wasn't likely that Dorothy would be looking for 
wireless messages or would heed the call; but one thing the 
Historian was sure of, and that was that the powerful Sorcer- 
ess, Glinda, would know what he was doing and that he de- 


sired to communicate with Dorothy. For Glinda has a big 
book in which is recorded every event that takes place any- 
where in the world, just the moment that it happens, and so 
of course the book would tell her about the wireless message. 

And that was the way Dorothy heard that the Historian 
wanted to speak with her, and there was a Shaggy Man in the 
Land of Oz who knew how to telegraph a wireless reply. The 
result was that the Historian begged so hard to be told the 
latest news of Oz, so that he could write it down for the chil- 
dren to read, that Dorothy asked permission of Ozma and 
Ozma graciously consented. 

That is why, after two long years of waiting, another Oz 

story is now presented to the children of America. This would 

not have been possible had not some clever man invented the 

'wireless" and an equally clever child suggested the idea of 

reaching the mysterious Land of Oz by its means. 


















14 Ojo BREAKS THE LAW 179 




1 8 Ojo is FORGIVEN 223 












' WHERE'S the butter, 
Unc Nunkie?" asked Ojo. 

Unc looked out of the 
window and stroked his 
long beard. Then he turn- 
ed to 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?' : 
inquired Ojo, standing on 
a stool so he could look 
through all the shelves of 
the cupboard. But Unc 
Nunkie shook his head 

: 'Gone," he said. 

: 'No jam, either? And 
no cake no jelly no 
apples nothing but 

"All," said Unc, again 
stroking his beard as he 
gazed from the window. 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

The little boy brought the stool and sat beside his uncle, 

munching the dry bread slowly and seeming in deep thought. 

'Nothing grows in our yard but the bread tree," he mused, 

; 'and there are only two more loaves on that tree; and they're 

not ripe yet. Tell me, Unc; why are we so poor 4 ?' 

The old Munchkin turned and looked at Ojo. He had 
kindly eyes, but he hadn't smiled or laughed in so long that 
the boy had forgotten that Unc Nunkie could look any other 
way than solemn. And Unc never spoke any more words than 
he was obliged to, so his little nephew, who lived alone with 
him, had learned to understand a great deal from one word. 
'Why are we so poor, Unc?" repeated the boy. 

"Not," said the old Munchkin. 

'I think we are," declared Ojo. 'What have we got?' 

'House," said Unc Nunkie. 

'I know; but everyone in the Land of Oz has a place to 
live. What else, Unc?" 


'I'm eating the last loaf that's ripe. There; I've put aside 
your share, Unc. It 's on the table, so you can eat it when you 
get hungry. But when that is gone, what 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 
ancle would not, 'no one starves in the Land of Oz, either. 
There is plenty for everyone, you know ; only, if it isn't just 
where you happen to be, you must go where it is." 


Chapter One 

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

: 'By to-morrow morning," the boy went on, "we must go 
where there is something to eat, or we shall grow very hungry 
and become very unhappy." 

"Where? "asked Unc. 

'Where shall we go? I don't know, I'm sure," replied 
Ojo. 'But you must know, Unc. You must have traveled, 
in your time, because you're so old. I don't remember it, be- 
cause ever since I could remember anything we've lived right 
here in this lonesome, round house, with a little garden back 
of it and the thick woods all around. All I've ever seen of 
the great Land of Oz, Unc dear, is the view of that mountain 
over at the south, where they say the Hammerheads live 
who won't let anybody go by them 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 
Crooked Magician, who is named Dr. Pipt, and his wife Mar- 
golotte. One year you told me about them; I think it took 
you a whole year, Unc, to say as much as I've just said about 
the Crooked Magician and his wife. They live high up on the 
mountain, and the good Munchkin Country, where the fruits 
and flowers grow, is just the other side. It's funny you and I 
should live here all alone, in the middle of the forest, isn't 11 

"Yes," said Unc. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

: Then let's go away and visit the Munchkin Country and 
its jolly, good-natured people. I 'd love to get a sight of some- 
thing besides woods, 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 and turned his chair to face the room, for the sun 
was sinking behind the tree-tops and it was growing cool. 

By and by Ojo lighted the fire and the logs blazed freely 
in the broad fireplace. The two sat in the firelight a long 

time the old, white-bearded 
Munchkin and the little boy. 
Both were thinking. When it 
grew quite dark outside, Ojo 
said : 

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

But Unc Nunkie did not eat 
the bread: neither did he go di- 
rectly to bed. Long after his 
little nephew was sound asleep 
in the corner of the room the old 

man sat by the fire, thinking. 

JUST at dawn next morn- 
ing Unc Nunkie laid his 
hand tenderly on Ojo's 
head and awakened him. 
"Come," he said. 
Ojo dressed. He wore 
blue silk stockings, blue 
knee-pants with gold buck- 
les, a blue ruffled waist and 
a jacket of bright blue 
braided with gold. His 
shoes were of blue leather 
and turned up at the toes, 
which were pointed. His 
hat had a peaked crown and 
a flat brim, and around the 
brim was a row of tiny 
golden bells that tinkled 
when he moved. This was 
the native costume of those 
who inhabited the Munch- 
kin Country of the Land of 
Oz, so Unc Nunkie's dress 
was much like that of his 
nephew. Instead of shoes, 
the old man wore boots 

*fc ^Bf*t )a*4r 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

with turnover tops and his blue coat had wide cuffs of gold 

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

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

At the foot of the mountain that separated the Country of 
the Munchkins from the Country of the Gillikins, the path 
divided. One way led to the left and the other to the right 
straight up the mountain. Unc Nunkie took this right-hand 
path and Ojo followed without asking why. He knew it would 
take them to the house of the Crooked Magician, whom he had 
never seen but who was their nearest neighbor. 

All the morning they trudged up the mountain path and at 
noon Unc and Ojo sat on a fallen tree-trunk and ate the last 
of the bread which the old Munchkin had placed in his pocket. 


Chapter Two 

Then they started on again and two hours later came in sight 
of the house of Dr. Pipt. 

It was a big house, round, as were all the Munchkin houses, 
and painted blue, which is the distinctive color of the Munch- 
kin Country of Oz. There was a pretty garden around the 
house, where blue trees and blue flowers grew in abundance 
and in one place were beds of blue cabbages, blue carrots and 
blue lettuce, all of which were delicious to eat. In Dr. Pipt's 
garden grew bun-trees, cake-trees, cream-puff bushes, blue but- 
tercups which yielded excellent blue butter and a row of choc- 
olate-caramel plants. Paths of blue gravel divided the vege- 
table and flower beds and a wider path led up to the front door. 
The place was in a clearing on the mountain, but a little way 
off was the grim forest, which completely surrounded it. 

Unc knocked at the door of the house and a chubby, pleas- 
ant-faced woman, dressed all in blue, opened it and greeted 
the visitors with a smile. 

"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. "But come in and let me give you something to 
cut, for you must have traveled far in order to get to our lonely 

"We have," replied Ojo, as he and Unc entered the house. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'We have come from a far lonelier place than this." 

"A lonelier place! And in the Munchkin Country?' she 
exclaimed. 'Then it must be somewhere in the Blue Forest." 
"It is, good Dame Margolotte. ' 

'Dear me!' she said, looking at the man, 'you must be 
Unc Nunkie, known as the Silent One." Then she looked at 
the boy. "And you must be Ojo the Unlucky," she added. 
; Yes," said Unc. 

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

'Well," remarked the woman, as she bustled around the 
room and set the table and brought food from the cupboard, 
' you were unlucky to live all alone in that dismal forest, which 
is much worse than the forest around here; but perhaps your 
luck will change, now you are away from it. If, during your 
travels, you can manage to lose that 'Un' at the beginning of 
your name 'Unlucky,' you will then become Ojo the Lucky, 
which will be a great improvement." 

"How can I lose that 'Un,' Dame Margolotte?" 
"I do not know how, but you must keep the matter in mind 
and perhaps the chance will come to you," she replied. 

Ojo had never eaten such a fine meal in all his life. There 
was a savory stew, smoking hot, a dish of blue peas, a bowl of 
sweet milk of a delicate blue tint and a blue pudding with blue 
plums in it. When the visitors had eaten heartily of this fare 
the woman said to them: 


Chapter Two 

'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 to rest and refresh ourselves. I do not think Unc 
Nunkie cares very much to see the famous Crooked Magician; 
but for my part I am curious to look at such a great man." 

The woman seemed thoughtful. 

"I remember that Unc Nunkie and my husband used to be 
friends, many years ago," she said, "so perhaps they will be 
glad to meet again. The Magician is very busy, as I said, but 
if you will promise not to disturb him you may come into his 
workshop and watch him prepare a wonderful charm." 

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

She led the way to a great domed hall at the back of the 
house, which was the Magician's workshop. There was a row 
of windows extending nearly around the sides of the circular 
room, which rendered the place very light, and there was a back 
door in addition to the one leading to the front part of the 
house. Before the row of windows a broad seat was built and 
there were some chairs and benches in the room besides. At 
one end stood a great fireplace, in which a blue log was blazing 
with a blue flame, and over the fire hung four kettles in a row, 
all bubbling and steaming at a great rate. The Magician was 
stirring all four of these kettles at the same time, two with his 
hands and two with his feet, to the latter, wooden ladles being 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

strapped, for this man was so very crooked that his legs were 
as handy as his arms. 

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

:< Ah, it's the Silent One," remarked Dr. Pipt, without look- 
ing up, "and he wants to know what I'm making. Well, when 
it is quite finished this compound will be the wonderful Powder 
of Life, which no one knows how to make but myself. When- 
ever it is sprinkled on anything, that thing will at once come 
to life, no matter what it is. It takes me several years to make 
this magic Powder, but at this moment I am pleased to say it 
is nearly done. You see, I am making it for my good wife 
Margolotte, who wants to use some of it for a purpose of her 
own. Sit down and make yourself comfortable, Unc Nunkie, 
and after I've finished my task I will talk to you." 

: You must know," said Margolotte, when they were all 
seated together on the broad window-seat, ' that my husband 
foolishly gave away all the Powder of Life he first made to old 
Mombi the Witch, who used to live in the Country of the Gil- 
likins, to the north of here. Mombi gave to Dr. Pipt a Pow- 
der of Perpetual Youth in exchange for his Powder of Life, 
but she cheated him wickedly, for the Powder of Youth was 
no good and could work no magic at all." 

''Perhaps the Powder of Life couldn't either," said Ojo. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Yes; it is perfection," she declared. 'The first lot we 
tested on our Glass Cat, which not only began to live but has 
lived ever since. She's somewhere around the house now." 

"A Glass Cat!" exclaimed Ojo, astonished. 

Yes; she makes a very pleasant companion, but admires 
herself a little more than is considered modest, and she posi- 
tively refuses to catch mice," explained Margolotte. "My 
husband made the cat some pink brains, but they proved to be 
too high-bred and particular for a cat, so she thinks it is un- 
dignified in her to catch mice. Also she has a pretty blood-red 
heart, but it is made of stone a ruby, I think and so i'j 
rather hard and unfeeling. I think the next Glass Cat the 
Magician makes will have neither brains nor heart, for then it 
will not object to catching mice and may prove of some use 
to us." 

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

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

"No; I've never heard of him," remarked Ojo. 'I'm 
afraid I don't know much about the Land of Oz. You see, 
I Ve lived all my life with Unc Nunkie, the Silent One, and 
there was no one to tell me anything." 

"That is one reason you are Ojo the Unlucky," said the 


Chapter Two 

woman, in a sympathetic tone. 'The more one knows, the 
luckier he is, for knowledge is the greatest gift in life." 

: 'But tell me, please, what you intend to do with this new 
lot of the Powder of Life, which Dr. Pipt is making. He said 
his wife wanted it for some especial purpose." 

: 'So I do," she answered. 'I want it to bring my Patch- 
work Girl to life." 

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

'I think I must show you my Patchwork Girl," said Mar- 
golotte, laughing at the boy's astonishment, "for she is rather 
difficult to explain. But first I will tell you that for many 
years I have longed for a servant to help me with the housework 
and to cook the meals and wash the dishes. No servant will 
come here because the place is so lonely and out-of-the-way, so 
my clever husband, the Crooked Magician, proposed that I 
make a girl out of some sort of material and he would make her 
live by sprinkling over her the Powder of Life. This seemed 
an excellent suggestion and at once Dr. Pipt set to work to 
make a new batch of his magic powder. He has been at it a 
long, long while, and so I have had plenty of time to make the 
girl. Yet that task was not so easy as you may suppose. At 
first I couldn't think what to make her of, but aally in search- 
ing through a chest I came across an old patchwork quilt, which 
my grandmother once made when she was young." 

'What is a patchwork quilt *?" asked Ojo. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'A bed-quilt made of patches of different kinds and colors 
of cloth, all neatly sewed together. The patches are of all 
shapes and sizes, so a patchwork quilt is a very pretty and 
gorgeous thing to look at. Sometimes it is called a * crazy- 
quilt,' because the patches and colors are so mixed up. We 
never have used my grandmother's many-colored patchwork 
quilt, handsome as it is, for we Munchkins do not care for any 
color other than blue, so it has been packed away in the chest 
for about a hundred years. When I found it, I said to myself 
that it would do nicely for my servant girl, for when she was 
brought to life she would not be proud nor haughty, as the 
Glass Cat is, for such a dreadful mixture of colors would dis- 
courage her from trying to be as dignified as the blue Munch- 
kins are." 

'Is blue the only respectable color, then?' inquired Ojo. 

Yes, for a Munchkin. All our country is blue, you know. 

But in other parts of Oz the people favor different colors. At 

the Emerald City, where our Princess Ozma lives, green is the 

popular color. But all Munchkins prefer blue to anything 

else and when my housework girl is brought to life she will 

find herself to be of so many unpopular colors that she'll never 

dare be rebellious or impudent, as servants are sometimes liable 

to be when they are made the same way their mistresses are.' J 

Unc Nunkie nodded approval. 

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


Chapter Two 

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

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


TT|ATV^HI r/"\ 

OJO examined this curi- 
ous contrivance with won- 
der. The Patchwork Girl 
was taller than he, when 
she stood upright, and her 
body was plump and round- 
ed because it had been so 
neatly stuffed with cotton. 
Margolotte had first made 
the girl's form from the 
patchwork quilt and then 
she had dressed it with a 
patchwork skirt and an 
apron with pockets in it 
using the same gay mate- 
rial throughout. Upon the 
feet she had sewn a pair of 
red leather shoes with 
pointed toes. All the fing- 
ers and thumbs of the girl's 
hands had been carefully 
formed and stuffed and 
stitched at the edges, with 
gold plates at the ends to 
serve as finger-nails. 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

; 'She will have to work, when she comes to life," said Mar- 

The head of the Patchwork Girl was the most curious part 
of her. While she waited for her husband to finish making 
his Powder of Life the woman had found ample time to com- 
plete the head as her fancy dictated, and she realized that a 
good servant's head must be properly constructed. The hair 
was of brown yarn and hung down on her neck in several neat 
braids. Her eyes were two silver suspender-buttons cut from 
a pair of the Magician's old trousers, and they were sewed 
on with black threads, which formed the pupils of the eyes. 
Margolotte had puzzled over the ears for some time, for these 
were important if the servant was to hear distinctly, but finally 
she had made them out of thin plates of gold and attached 
them in place by means of stitches through tiny holes bored in 
the metal. Gold is the most common metal in the Land of 
Oz and is used for many purposes because it is soft and pliable. 

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


Chapter Three 

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

'I suppose so; but I had no pink cloth," replied the woman. 
"Still, I cannot see as it matters much, for I wish my Patch- 
work Girl to be useful rather than ornamental. If I get tired 
looking at her patched face I can whitewash it." 

"Has she any brains?" asked Ojo. 

"No; I forgot all about the brains! " exclaimed the woman. 
"I am glad you reminded me of them, for it is not too late to 
supply them, by any means. Until she is brought to life I 
can do anything I please with this girl. But I must be care- 
ful not to give her too much brains, and those she has must 
be such as are fitted to the station she is to occupy in life. In 
other words, her brains mustn't be very good. ' 

"Wrong," said Unc Nunkie. 

No; I am sure I am right about that," returned the woman. 
He means," explained Ojo, "that unless your servant has 
good brains she won't know how to obey you properly, nor do 
the things you ask her to do." 

"Well, that may be true," agreed Margolotte ; "but, on the 
contrary, a servant with too much brains is sure to become in- 
dependent and high-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 right quantity 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 




The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

with shelves. All the shelves were lined with blue glass bot- 
tles, neatly labeled by the Magician to show what they con- 
tained. One whole shelf was marked: 'Brain Furniture," 
and the bottles on this shelf were labeled as follows: :< Obedi- 
ence," "Cleverness," "Judgment," "Courage," "Ingenuity," 
"Amiability," "Learning," "Truth," "Poesy," "Self Reli- 

'Let me see," said Margolotte; "of those qualities she must 
have 'Obedience' first of all," and she took down the bottle 
bearing that label and poured from it upon a dish several grains 
of the contents. 'Amiability' is also good and 'Truth.' 
She poured into the dish a quantity from each of these bottles. 
'I think that will do," she continued, "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 Magician suddenly called to her excitedly from the 

"Quick, Margolotte! Come and help me." 

She ran to her husband's side at once and helped him lift 
the four kettles from the fire. Their contents had all boiled 
away, leaving in the bottom of each kettle a few grains of fine 
white powder. Very carefully the Magician removed this 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

powder, placing it all together in a golden dish, where he 
mixed it with a golden spoon. When the mixture was com- 
plete there was scarcely a handful, all told. 

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

Unc Nunkie, Margolotte and the Magician all stood look- 
ing at the marvelous Powder, but Ojo was more interested 
just then in the Patchwork Girl's brains. Thinking it both 
unfair and unkind to deprive her of any good qualities that 
were handy, the boy took down every bottle on the shelf and 
poured some of the contents in Margolotte's dish. No one saw 
him do this, for all were looking at the Powder of Life; but 
soon the woman remembered what she had been doing, and 
came back to the cupboard. 

"Let's see," she remarked; f 'I was about to give my girl a 
little 'Cleverness,' which is the Doctor's substitute for 'Intel- 
ligence' a quality he has not yet learned how to manufac- 
ture." Taking down the bottle of " Cleverness " she added some 
of the powder to the heap on the dish. Ojo became a bit un- 
easy at this, for he had already put quite a lot of the " Cleve; - 


Chapter Three 

ness" powder in the dish; but he dared not interfere and so he 
comforted himself with the thought that one cannot have too 
much cleverness. 

Margolotte now carried the dish of brains to the bench. Rip- 
ping the seam of the patch on the girl's forehead, she placed the 
powder within the head and then sewed up the seam as neatly 
and securely as before. 

"My girl is all ready for your Powder of Life, my dear," 
she said to her husband. But the Magician replied : 

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

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

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

rest. 3 

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

"I know; but that renders your uncle a most agreeabje com- 
panion and gossip," declared Dr. Pipt. "Most people talk 
too much, so it is a relief to find one who talks too little." 

Ojo looked at the Magician with much awe and curiosity. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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

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

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

'I am not allowed to perform magic, except for my own 
amusement," he told his visitors, as he lighted a pipe with a 
crooked stem and began to smoke. 'Too many people were 
working magic in the Land of Oz, and so our 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 
now they are all out of business and only the great Sorceress, 
Glinda the Good, is permitted to practice her arts, which never 
harm anybody. The Wizard of Oz, who used to be a humbug 
and knew no magic at all, has been taking lessons of Glinda, 
and I'm told he is getting to be a pretty good Wizard; but he 
is merely the assistant of the great Sorceress. I've the right 
to make a servant girl for my wife, you know, or a Glass Cat 
to catch our mice which she refuses to do but I am forbid- 
den to work magic for others, or to use it as a profession. J: 


Chapter Three 

: ' Magic must be a very interesting study," said Ojo. 

" It truly is," asserted the Magician. : ' In my time I 've per- 
formed some magical feats that were worthy the skill of Glinda 
the Good. For instance, 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 

'Turns everything it touches to solid marble. It's an in- 
vention of my own, and I find it very useful. Once two of 
those dreadful Kalidahs, with bodies like bears and heads like 
tigers, came here from the forest to attack us; but I sprinkled 
some of that Liquid on them and instantly they turned to mar- 
ble. I now use them as ornamental statuary in my garden. 
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 now it is marble. It will never break nor wear out." 

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

"Dear me; what a chatterbox you're getting to be, Unc," 
remarked the Magician, who was pleased with the compliment. 
But just then there came a scratching at the 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. 



Chapter Three 

"Mee-ee-ow-w-w! There; does that suit your royal high- 
ness?" asked the voice, 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 short at the sight of strangers. Ojo and Unc Nunkie 
both stared at it with wide open eyes, for surely no such curious 
creature had ever existed before even in the Land of Oz. 



THE cat was made of 
glass, so clear and transpar- 
ent that you could see 
through 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 
large emeralds, but aside 
from these colors all the 
rest of the animal was clear 
glass, and it had a spun- 
glass tail that was really 

"Well, Doc Pipt, do 
you mean to introduce us, 
or not 4 ?' demanded the 
cat, in a tone of annoyance. 

'Seems to me you are for- 
getting your manners." 

''Excuse me," returned 
the Magician. "This is 



The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Unc Nunkie, the descendant of the former kings of the Munch- 
kins, before this country became a part of the Land of Oz." 

'He needs a hair-cut," observed the cat, washing its face. 

'True," replied Unc, with a low chuckle of amusement. 

'But he has lived alone in the heart of the forest for many 
years," the Magician explained; "and, although that is a bar- 
barous country, there are no barbers there." 
"Who is the dwarf?" asked the cat. 

1 That is not a dwarf, but a boy," answered the Magician. 
"You have never seen a boy before. He is now small because 
he is young. With more years he will grow 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 art known to man. For instance, my magic made 
you, and made you live; and it was a poor job because you are 
useless and a bother to me; but I can't make you grow. You 
will always be the same size and the same saucy, incon- 
siderate Glass Cat, with pink brains and a hard ruby heart." 
" No one can regret more than I the fact that you made me," 
asserted the cat, crouching upon the floor and slowly swaying 
its spun-glass tail from side to side. : Your world is a very 
uninteresting place. I ' ve wandered through your gardens and 
in the forest until I'm tired of it all, and when I come into 
the house the conversation of your fat wife and of yourself 
bores me dreadfully." 



Chapter Four 

'That is because I gave you different brains from those we 
ourselves possess and much too good for a cat," returned Dr. 

"Can't you take 'em out, then, and replace 'em with peb- 
bles, so that I won't feel above my station in life?" asked the 
cat, pleadingly. 

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

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

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

The Magician nodded. 

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

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

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

"Why didn't you make her pretty to look at?' asked the 
cat. "You made me pretty very pretty, indeed and I 
love to watch my pink brains roll around when they're work- 
ing, and to see my precious red heart beat." She went to a 
long mirror, as she said this, and stood before it, looking at 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

herself with an air of much pride. 'But that poor patched 
thing will hate herself, when she's once alive," continued the 
cat. 'If I were you I'd use her for a mop, and make another 
servant that is prettier." 

You have a perverted taste," snapped Margolotte, much 
annoyed at this frank criticism. 'I think the Patchwork Girl 
is beautiful, considering what she's made of. Even the rain- 
bow hasn't as many colors, and you must admit that the rain- 
bow 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 Patch- 
work Girl, that's all." 

Ojo and Unc Nunkie slept that night in the Magician's 
house, and the boy was glad to stay because he was anxious to 
see the Patchwork Girl brought to life. The Glass Cat was 
also a wonderful creature to little Ojo, who had never seen or 
known anything of magic before, although he had lived in the 
Fairyland of Oz ever since he was born. Back there in the 
woods nothing unusual ever happened. Unc Nunkie, who 
might have been King of the Munchkins, had not his people 
united with all the other countries of Oz in acknowledging 
Ozma as their sole ruler, had retired into this forgotten forest 
nook with his baby nephew and they had lived all alone there. 
Only that the neglected garden had failed to grow food for 
them, they would always have lived in the solitary Blue For- 
est; but now they had started out to mingle with other people, 


Chapter Fou 

and the first place they came to proved so interesting that Ojo 
could scarcely sleep a wink all night. 

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

' This is the last meal I shall have to cook for some time, 
for right after breakfast Dr. Pipt has promised to bring my 
new servant to life. I shall let her wash the breakfast dishes 
and sweep and dust the house. What a relief it will be ! ' 

:< It will, indeed, relieve you of much drudgery," said the 
Magician. 'By the way, Margolotte, I thought I saw you get- 
ting some brains from the cupboard, while I was busy with my 
kettles. What qualities have you given your new servant?' 

'Only those that an humble servant requires," she an- 
swered. 'I do not wish her to feel above her station, as the 
Glass Cat does. That would make her discontented and un- 
happy, for of course she must always be a servant." 

Ojo was somewhat disturbed as he listened to this, and the 
boy began to fear he had done wrong in adding all those dif- 
ferent qualities of brains to the lot Margolotte had prepared 
for the servant. But it was too late now for regret, since all 
the brains were securely sewn up inside the Patchwork Girl's 
head. He might have confessed what he had done and thus 
allowed Margolotte and her husband to change the brains; but 
he was afraid of incurring their anger. He believed that Unc 
had seen him add to the brains, and Unc had not said a word 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

against it; but then, Unc never did say anything unless it was 
absolutely necessary. 

As soon as breakfast was over they all went into the Ma- 
gician's big workshop, where the Glass Cat was lying before 
the mirror and the Patchwork Girl lay limp and lifeless upon 
the bench. 

; 'Now, then," said Dr. Pipt, in a brisk tone, "we shall per- 
form one of the greatest feats of magic possible to man, even 
in this marvelous Land of Oz. In no other country could it 
be done at all. I think we ought to have a little music while 
the Patchwork Girl comes to life. It is pleasant to reflect that 
the first sounds her golden ears will hear will be delicious 


As he spoke he went to a phonograph, which was screwed 
fast to a small table, and wound up the spring of the instru- 
ment and adjusted the big gold horn. 

' The music my servant will usually hear," remarked Mar- 
golotte, " will be my orders to do her work. But I see no harm 
in allowing her to listen to this unseen band while she wakens 
to her first realization of life. My orders will beat the band, 

The phonograph was now playing a stirring march tune 
and the Magician unlocked his cabinet and took out the gold 
bottle containing the Powder of Life. 

They all bent over the bench on which the Patchwork Girl 
reclined. Unc Nunkie and Margolotte stood behind, near the 


Chapter Four 

windows, Ojo at one side and the Magician in front, where 
he would have freedom to sprinkle the powder. The Glass 
Cat came near, too, curious to watch the important scene. 

"All ready?" asked Dr. Pipt. 

"All is ready," answered his wife. 

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


'IT will take a few min- 
utes for this powder to do 
its work," remarked the 
Magician, sprinkling the 
body up and down with 
much care. 

But suddenly the Patch- 
work Girl threw up one 
arm, which knocked the 
bottle of powder from the 
crooked man's hand and 
sent it flying across the 
room. Unc Nunkie and 
Margolotte were so startled 
that they both leaped back- 
ward and bumped together, 
and Unc's head joggled the 
shelf above them and up- 
set the bottle containing 
the Liquid of Petrifaction. 
The Magician uttered 
such a wild cry that Ojo 
jumped away and the 
Patchwork Girl sprang 
after him and clasped her 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

stuffed arms around him in terror. The Glass Cat snarled 
and hid under the table, and so it was that when the powerful 
Liquid of Petrifaction was spilled it fell only upon the wife 
of the Magician and the uncle of Ojo. With these two the 
charm worked promptly. They stood motionless and stiff as 
marble statues, in exactly the positions they were in when the 
Liquid struck them. 

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

The Patchwork Girl, quickly recovering from her fright, 
now came nearer and looked from one to another of the people 
with deep interest. Then she looked at herself and laughed. 
Noticing the mirror, she stood before it and examined her ex- 
traordinary features with amazement her button eyes, pearl 
bead teeth and puffy nose. Then, addressing her reflection in 
the glass, she exclaimed: 

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


Chapter Five 

She bowed, and the reflection bowed. Then she laughed 
again, long and merrily, and the Glass Cat crept out from un- 
der the table and said: 

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

"Horrid*?" she replied. "Why, I'm thoroughly delight- 
ful. I'm an Original, if you please, and therefore incompar- 
able. Of all the comic, absurd, rare and amusing creatures the 
world contains, I must be the supreme freak. Who but poor 
Margolotte could have managed to invent such an unreason- 
able being as I*? But I'm glad- -I'm awfully glad! that 
I'm just what I am, and nothing else." 

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

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

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

The Magician looked gloomily at the music-machine. 

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

He went up to it and found that the gold bottle that con- 
tained the precious powder had dropped upon the stand and 
scattered its life-giving grains over the machine. The phono- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

graph was very much alive, and began dancing a jig with the 
legs of the table to which it was attached, and this dance so 
annoyed Dr. Pipt that he kicked the thing into a corner and 
pushed a bench against it, to hold it quiet. 

You were bad enough before," said the Magician, resent- 
fully; 'but a live phonograph is enough to drive every sane 
person in the Land of Oz stark crazy." 

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

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

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


Chapter Five 

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

"That's nonsense, kiddie," retorted the Patchwork Girl 

cheerfully. "No one can be unlucky who has the intelligence 
to direct his own actions. The 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 4 ?' 

'The Liquid of Petrifaction has accidentally fallen upon 
my dear wife and Unc Nunkie and turned them into marble," 
he sadly replied. 

'Well, why don't you sprinkle some of that powder on 
them and bring them to life again? " asked the Patchwork Girl. 
The Magician gave a jump. 

'Why, I hadn't thought of that !' he joyfully cried, and 
grabbed up the golden bottle, with which he ran to Margolotte. 
Said the Patchwork Girl : 

"Higgledy, 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 the top of his wife's head in any other way, Dr. Pipt be- 
gan shaking the bottle. But not a grain of powder came out. 

The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

He pulled off the cover, glanced within, and then threw the 
bottle from him with a wail of despair. 

'Gone gone! Every bit gone," he cried. 'Wasted on 
that miserable phonograph 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 stirring four 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 remem- 
ber something and looked up. 

1 There is one other compound that would destroy the magic 
spell of the Liquid 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 magic compound, but if they were found I 
could do in an instant what will otherwise take six long, weary 
years of stirring kettles with both hands and both feet." 

'' All right; let's find the things, then," suggested the Patch- 
work Girl. That seems a lot more sensible than those stirring 
times with the kettles." 


Chapter Five 

' That 's the idea, Scraps," said the Glass Cat, approvingly. 
"I'm glad to find you have decent brains. Mine are excep- 
tionally good. You can see 'em work; they're pink." 

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

"I- I believe my poor wife had intended to name you 
'Angeline,' ' said the Magician. 

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

"I have a foolish name that Margolotte once gave me, but 
which is quite undignified 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. I was wrong to make you as I did, for a more use- 
less, conceited and brittle thing never before existed." 

"I'm not so brittle as you think," retorted the cat. : 'I've 
been alive a good many years, for Dr. Pipt experimented on 
me with the first magic Powder of Life he ever made, and so 
far I've never broken or cracked or chipped any part of me." 

"You seem to have a chip on your shoulder," laughed the 
Patchwork Girl, and the cat went to the mirror to see. 

"Tell me," pleaded Ojo, speaking to the Crooked Ma- 
gician, "what must we find to make the compound that will 
save Unc Nunkie?' 1 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'First," was the reply, 'I must have a six-leaved clover. 
That can only be found in the green country around the Emer- 
ald City, and six-leaved clovers are very scarce, even there." 

'I'll find it for you," promised Ojo. 

'The next thing," continued the Magician, "is the left 
wing of a yellow butterfly. That color can only be found in 
the yellow country of the Winkies, West of the Emerald City. ' 

"I'll find it," declared Ojo. "Is that all?" 

: 'Oh, no; I'll get my Book of Recipes and see what comes 


Saying this, the Magician unlocked a drawer of his cabinet 
and drew out a small book covered with blue leather. Look- 
ing through the pages he found the recipe he wanted and said : 
' I must have a gill of water from a 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 in a gold bottle and brought to me without any 
light ever reaching it." 

'I'll get the water from the dark well," said Ojo. 

'Then I must have three hairs from the tip of a Woozy's 
tail, and a drop of oil from a 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 


Chapter Five 

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 must get everything that is called for, or the charm 
won't work. The book doesn't say 'blood'; it says 'oil/ and 
there must be oil somewhere in a live man's body or the book 
wouldn't ask for it. 5 

'All right," returned Ojo, trying not to feel discouraged; 
"Til try to find it." 

The Magician looked at the little Munchkin boy in a doubt- 
ful way and said: 

: ' All this will mean a long journey for you; perhaps several 
long journeys; for you must search through several of the dif- 
ferent countries of Oz in order to get the things I need." 
"I know it, sir; but I must do my best to save Unc Nunkie." 
"And also my poor wife Margolotte. If you save one you 
will save the other, for both stand there together and the same 
compound will restore them both to life. Do the best you can, 
Ojo, and while you are gone I shall begin the six years' job of 
making a new batch of the Powder of Life. Then, if you should 
unluckily fail to secure any one of the things needed, I will 
have lost no time. But if you succeed you must return here 
as quickly as you can, and that will save me much tiresome stir- 
ring of four kettles with both feet and both hands." 
T will start on my journey at once, sir," said the boy. 
"And I will go with you," declared the Patchwork Girl. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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

Scraps, who had been dancing up and down the room, 
stopped and looked at 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 your wife by helping Ojo find the things you need. 
You need a lot, you know, such as are not easily found. ' 

'It is true," sighed Dr. Pipt. 'I am well aware that Ojo 
has undertaken a serious task." 

Scraps laughed, 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 J em, Unc 
Will always stand a marble chunk." 


Chapter Five 

The Magician looked at her thoughtfully. 

" Poor Margolotte must have given you some of the quality 
of poesy, by mistake," he said. ; ' And, if that is true, I didn't 
make a very good article when I prepared it, or else you got 
an overdose or an underdose. However, I believe I shall let 
you go with Ojo, for my poor wife will not need your services 
until she is restored to life. Also I think you may be able to 
help the boy, for your head seems to contain some thoughts I 
did not expect to find in it. But be very careful of yourself, 
for you're a souvenir of my dear Margolotte. Try not to get 
ripped, or your stuffing may fall out. One of your eyes seems 
loose, and you may have to sew it on tighter. If you talk too 
much you'll wear out your scarlet plush tongue, which ought to 
have been hemmed on the edges. And remember you belong to 
me and must return here as soon as your mission is accom- 

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

"You can't," said the Magician. 

1 Wh not?' 

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

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

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Thank you for nothing, then," answered the cat, stiffly. 
Dr. Pipt took a small basket from a cupboard and packed 
several things in it. Then he handed it to Ojo. 

'Here is some food and a bundle of charms," he said. 'It 
is all I can give you, but I am sure you will find friends on your 
journey who will assist you in your search. Take care of the 
Patchwork Girl and bring her safely back, for she ought to 
prove useful to my wife. As for the Glass Cat properly 
named Bungle- -if she bothers you I now give you my permis- 
sion to break her in two, for she is not respectful and does not 
obey me. I made a mistake in giving her the pink brains, you 


Then Ojo went to Unc Nunkie and kissed the old man's 
marble face very tenderly. 

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

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



OJO had never 
traveled before 
and so he only 
knew that the path 
down the mountainside led 
into the open Munchkin 
Country, where large num- 
bers of people dwelt. 
Scraps was quite new and 
not supposed to know any- 
thing of the Land of Oz, 
while the Glass Cat admit- 
ted she had never wandered 
very far away from the 
Magician's house. There 
was only one path before 
them, at the beginning, so 
they could not miss their 
way, and for a time they 
walked through the thick 
forest in silent thought, 
each one impressed with 
the importance of the ad- 
venture they had under- 

Suddenly the Patchwork 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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

'Has something pleased you?" asked Ojo, who was feeling 
solemn and joyless through thinking upon his uncle's sad fate. 
Yes," she answered. Your world pleases me, for it 's a 
queer world, and life in it is queerer still. Here am I, made 
from an old bedquilt and intended to be a slave to Margolotte, 
rendered free as air by an accident that none of you could fore- 
see. I am enjoying life and seeing the world, while the woman 
who made me is standing helpless as a block of wood. If that 
isn't funny enough to laugh 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 that are on all sides of us." 

'But they're part of it; and aren't they pretty trees?" re- 
turned Scraps, bobbing her head until her brown yarn curls 
fluttered in the breeze. ''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 I shall be glad I 'm alive." 

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

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


Chapter Six 

'I wonder if any of the people we shall meet will be as 
splendid as I am," said the Patchwork Girl. 'All I have seen, 
so far, have pale, colorless skins and clothes as blue as the 
country they live in, while I am of many gorgeous colors face 
and body and clothes. That is why I am bright and contented, 
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 a few just enough to keep you going but when she 
wasn't looking I added a good many more, of the best kinds 
I could find in the Magician's cupboard." 

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

" But they ought to be evenly balanced," said the boy, "and 
I had no time to be careful. From the way you're acting, I 
guess the dose was badly mixed." 

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

After walking a long time they came to a little brook that 
trickled across the path, and here Ojo sat down to rest and eat 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

something from his basket. He found that the Magician had 
given him part of a loaf of bread and a slice of cheese. He 
broke off some of the bread and was surprised to find the loaf 
just as large as it was before. It was the same way with the 
cheese : however much he broke off from the slice, it remained 
exactly the same size. 

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

'Why do you put those things into your mouth?' asked 
Scraps, gazing at him in astonishment. 'Do you need more 
stuffing? Then why don't you use cotton, such as I am stuffed 

'I don't need that kind," said Ojo. 

'But a mouth is to talk with, isn't it ?" 

'It is also to eat with," replied the boy. "If I didn't put 
food into my mouth, and eat it, I would get hungry and starve." 

: 'Ah, I didn't know that," she said. :< Give me some." 
Ojo handed her a bit of the bread and she put it in her 

'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 and beyond her mouth there was no opening. Being 
unable to swallow she threw away the bread and laughed. 
"I must get hungry and starve, for I can't eat," she said. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

" Neither can I," announced the cat; 'but I'm not fool 
enough to try. Can't you understand that you and I are 
superior people and not made like these poor humans?' 

'Why should I understand that, or anything else?" asked 

the girl. 'Don't bother my head by asking conundrums, I 

beg of you. Just let me discover myself in my own way." 

With this she began amusing herself by leaping across the 

brook and back again. 

'Be careful, or you'll fall in the water," warned Ojo. 
"Never mind." 

: You'd better. If you get wet you'll be soggy and can't 
walk. Your colors 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 and yellows and purples of your patches might run into 

each other and become just a blur no color at all, you know." 

"Then," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'll be careful, for if I 

spoiled my splendid colors I would cease to be beautiful." 

'Pah!" sneered the Glass Cat, "such colors are not beau- 
tiful; they're ugly, and in bad taste. Please notice that my 
body has no color at all. 1 5 m transparent, except for my exqui- 
site red heart and my lovely pink brains you can see 'em 

"Shoo shoo. shoo!' cried Scraps, dancing around and 
laughing. "And your horrid green eyes, Miss Bungle! You 
can't see your eyes, but we can, and I notice you 're very proud 


Chapter Six 

of what little color you have. Shoo, Miss Bungle, shoo shoo 
shoo ! If you were all colors and many colors, as I am, you 'd 
be too stuck up for anything." She leaped over the cat and 
back again, and the startled Bungle crept close to a tree to 
escape her. This made Scraps laugh more heartily than ever, 
and she said: 

' 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 youT : 

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

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

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

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

It was nearly sundown when they came to the edge of the 
forest and saw spread out before them a delightful landscape. 
There were broad blue fields stretching for miles over the val- 
ley, which was dotted everywhere with pretty, blue domed 
houses, none of which, however, was very near to the place 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

where they stood. Just at the point where the path left the 
forest stood a tiny house covered with leaves from the trees, 
and before this stood a Munchkin man with an axe in his hand. 
He seemed very much surprised w T hen Ojo and Scraps and the 
Glass Cat came out of the woods, but as the Patchwork Girl 
approached nearer he sat down upon a bench and laughed so 
hard that he could not speak for a long time. 

This man was a woodchopper and lived all alone in the little 
house. He had bushy blue whiskers and merry blue eyes and 
his blue clothes were quite old and worn. 

'Mercy me!" exclaimed the woodchopper, when at last he 
could stop laughing. 'Who would think such a funny har- 
lequin lived in the Land of Oz? Where did you come from, 

'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," she said. 

'There's no difference," he replied, beginning to laugh 
again. 'When my old grandmother sews such things together 
she calls it a crazy-quilt; but I 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. I might have known it, for -Well, I declare ! here 's 
a glass cat. But the Magician will get in trouble for this ; it 's 


Chapter Six 

against the law for anyone to work magic except Glinda the 
Good and the royal Wizard of Oz. If you people- -or things 
or glass- spectacles or crazy-quilts or whatever you are, 
go near the Emerald City, you'll be arrested." 

'We're going there, anyhow," declared Scraps, sitting upon 
the bench and swinging 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 the crazy-quilt you're made of." 

: 'She really is crazy," remarked the Glass Cat. 'But that 
isn't to be wondered at when you remember how many different 
things she's made of. For my part, I'm made of pure glass - 
except my jewel heart and my pretty pink brains. Did you 
notice my brains, stranger 4 ? You can see 'em work." 

"So I can," replied the woodchopper; "but I can't see that 
they accomplish much. A glass cat is a useless sort of thing, 
but a Patchwork Girl is really useful. She makes me laugh, 
and laughter is the best thing in life. There was once a wood- 
chopper, 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." 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'My friend wasn't always tin," said the man, "but he was 
careless with his axe, and used to chop himself very badly. 
Whenever he lost an arm or 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 Dorothy in the forest and went with her to the Emerald 
City, where he made his fortune. He is now one of the favorites 
of Princess Ozma, and she has made him the Emperor of the 
Winkies the Country where all is yellow." 

'Who is Dorothy?' inquired the Patchwork Girl. 

"A little 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 royal palace." 

'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 one tin person, and that is Nick Chopper, the Tin Wood- 
man; and there will never be but one Patchwork Girl, for any 
magician that sees you will refuse to make another one like 

" I suppose we shall see the Tin Woodman, for we are going 
to the Country 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 

Chapter Six 

through lonely parts of Oz and cross rivers and traverse dark 
forests before you get there." 

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

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

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

They expected to reach some other house before it grew dark, 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

but the twilight was brief and Ojo soon began to fear they 
had made a mistake in 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 arm so 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 run ahead and show us the way. Wait a minute and 
I'll tie a string to you; for then you can lead us." 

He got a string from his pocket and tied it around the cat's 
neck, and after that the creature guided them along the path. 
They had proceeded in this way for about an hour when a 
twinkling blue light appeared ahead of them. 

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

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

''Where is the house, Bungle?' 

" Just here beside us, Scraps." 

Ojo was now able to see a small house near the pathway. It 
was dark and silent, but the boy was tired and wanted to rest, 


Chapter Six 

so he went up to the door and knocked. 

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

' I am Ojo the Unlucky, and with me are Miss Scraps Patch- 
work and the Glass 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 to bed," returned the Voice. 

Ojo unlatched the door and entered. It was very dark 
inside and he could see nothing at all. But the cat exclaimed : 
' Why, there 's no one here ! ' 

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

"I can see everything in the room," replied the cat, : 'and 
no one is present but ourselves. But here are three beds, all 
made up, so we may as well go to sleep." 

"What is sleep?" inquired the Patchwork Girl. 

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

The cat, which could see in the dark, looked sharply around 
for the owner of the Voice, but could discover no one, although 
the Voice had seemed close beside them. She arched her back 
a little and seemed afraid. Then she whispered to Ojo: 
"Come! " and led him to a bed. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

With his hands the boy felt of the bed and found it was big 
and soft, with feather pillows and plenty of blankets. So he 
took off his shoes and hat and crept into the bed. Then the 
cat led Scraps to another bed and the Patchwork Girl was puz- 
zled to know what to do with it. 

"Lie down and keep quiet," whispered the cat, warningly. 

"Can't I sing?" asked Scraps. 


"Can't I whistle?" asked Scraps. 


" 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 as usual. : What right have you to order me around? 
If I want to talk, or yell, or whistle 

Before she could say anything more an unseen hand seized 
her firmly and threw her out of the door, which closed behind 
her with a sharp slam. She found herself bumping and rolling 
in the road and when she got up and tried to open the door 
of the 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 tired that he never wakened until broad daylight. 


nPWTT" TT>/~\1 


WHEN the boy opened 
his eyes next morning he 
looked carefully around the 
room. These small Munch- 
kin houses seldom had 
more than one room in 
them. That in which Ojo 
now found himself had 
three beds, set all in a row 
on one side of it. The Glass 
Cat lay asleep on one bed, 
Ojo was in the second, and 
the third was neatly made 
up and smoothed for the 
day. On the other side of 
the room was a round table 
on which breakfast was 
already 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 room except 
the boy and Bungle. 

Ojo got up and put on 
his shoes. Finding a toilet 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

stand at the head of his bed he washed his face and hands and 
brushed his hair. Then he went to the table and said: 
'I wonder if this is my breakfast?' 

:t Eat it! " commanded a Voice at his side, so near that Ojo 
jumped. But no person could he see. 

He was hungry, and the breakfast looked good; so he sat 
down and ate all he wanted. Then, 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, he said: "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, the cat 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 were never coming out. It has been daylight a long time. ' 

"What did you do all night 4 ?" asked the boy. 

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

"Of course not," said Ojo. 

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

"That's all right," said Scraps. "If I hadn't been thrown 
out I wouldn't have seen the stars, nor the big gray wolf." 

"What wolf?" inquired Ojo. 

8 4 

Chapter Seven 

'The one that came to the door of the house three times 
during the night." 

" I don't see why that should be," said the boy, thoughtfully; 
: ' there was plenty to eat in that house, for I had a fine break- 
fast, and I slept in a nice bed." 

'Don't you feel tired 1 ?" asked the Patchwork Girl, noticing 
that the boy yawned. 

'Why, yes; I'm as tired as I was last night; and yet I slept 
very well." 

"And aren't you hungry ?' 

"It's strange," replied Ojo. 'I had a good breakfast, and 
yet I think I '11 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 of course I know nothing of a grocery store or 
bones without meat or very much else." 

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

"Bother the brains!" cried Scraps. 'Who cares for 'em, 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

anyhow? Have you noticed how beautiful my patches are in 
this sunlight?" 

Just then they heard a sound as of footsteps pattering along 
the path behind them and all three turned to see what was 
coming. To their astonishment they beheld a small round table 
running as fast as its four spindle legs could carry it, and to 
the top was screwed fast a phonograph with a big gold horn. 

"Hold on ! " shouted the phonograph. ' Wait for me ! ' 
"Goodness me; it's that music thing which the Crooked 

Magician scattered the Powder of Life over," said Ojo. 

"So it is," returned Bungle, in a grumpy tone of voice; and 

then, as the phonograph overtook them, the Glass Cat added 

sternly : "What are you doing here, anyhow *?' 


Chapter Seven 

"I've run away," said the music thing. ''After you left, old 
Dr. Pipt and I had a dreadful quarrel and he threatened to 
smash me to pieces if I didn't keep quiet. Of course I wouldn't 
do that, because a talking-machine is supposed to talk and make 
a noise and sometimes music. So I slipped out of the house 
while the Magician was stirring his four kettles and I've been 
running after you all night. Now that I've found such pleas- 
ant company, I can talk and play tunes all I want to." 

Ojo was greatly annoyed by this unwelcome addition to 
their party. At first he did not know what to say to the new- 
comer, but a little thought decided him not to make friends. 

'We are traveling on important business," he declared, 
"and you'll excuse me if I say we can't be bothered." 

: 'How very impolite!" exclaimed the phonograph. 

"I'm sorry; but it's true," said the boy. You'll have to 
go somewhere else." 

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

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

"That isn't my fault ; it's the fault of my records. I must 

8 7 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

admit that I haven'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. I remember to have heard music when I first came to life, 
and I would like 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. 'Go ahead and play something." 

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

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

"The only record I have with me," explained the phono- 
graph, "is one the Magician attached just before we had our 
quarrel. It 's a highly classical composition." 

"A what?" inquired Scraps. 

"It is classical music, and is considered the best and most 
puzzling ever manufactured. You're supposed to like it, 
whether you do or not, and if you don't, the proper 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 his hands to his ears to shut out the sounds and the cat 
snarled and Scraps began to laugh. 

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


Chapter Seven 

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

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

"What's the matter*? Don't you love classical music 4 ?' 

" No, Vic," said Scraps, halting. "We will passical the clas- 
sical and preserve 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 4 ?" 

"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 proved so bewildering that after a moment Scraps stuffed 
her patchwork apron into the gold horn and cried: 'Stop 
stop! That's the other extreme. It's extremely bad!" 

Muffled as it was, the phonograph played on. 

"If you don't shut off that music I'll smash your record," 
threatened Ojo. 

The music stopped, at that, and the machine turned its horn 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

from one to another and said with great indignation : ' What 's 
the matter now? Is it possible you can't appreciate rag-time?' 

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

'It is, indeed, dreadful!" exclaimed Ojo, with a shudder. 

'It's enough to drive a crazy lady mad," murmured the 
Patchwork Girl. 'Til tell you what, Vic," she added as she 
smoothed out her apron and put 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 
the phonograph sadly. 

'Then we're not savages. I advise you to go home and 
beg the Magician's pardon." 
"Never! He'd smash me." 

'That's what we shall do, if you stay here," Ojo declared. 

' Run along, Vic, and bother some one else," advised Scraps. 
'Find some one who is real wicked, and stay with him till he 
repents. In that way you can do some good in the world." 

The music thing turned silently away and trotted down a 
side path, toward a distant Munchkin village. 

Is that the way we go?' asked Bungle anxiously. 
No," said Ojo; "I think we shall keep straight ahead, for 
this path is the widest and best. When we come to some house 
we will inquire the way to the Emerald City." 





ON they went, and half 
an hour's steady walking 
brought them to a house 
somewhat better than the 
two they had already 
passed. It stood close to 
the roadside and over the 
door was a sign that read: 
"Miss Foolish Owl and Mr. 
Wise Donkey: Public Ad- 

When Ojo read this sign 
aloud Scraps said laugh- 
ingly: 'Well, here is a 
place to get all the advice 
we want, maybe more than 
we need. Let's go in. ' 

The boy knocked at the 

"Come in!" called a 
deep bass voice. 

So they opened the door 
and entered the house, 
where a little light-brown 
donkey, dressed in a blue 
apron and a blue cap, was 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

engaged in dusting the furniture with a blue cloth. On a shelf 
over the window sat a great blue owl with a blue sunbonnet on 
her head, blinking her big round eyes at the visitors. 

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

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

; ' Certainly," said the donkey. ;< Advice doesn't cost any- 
thing unless you follow it. Permit me to say, by the way, 
that you are the queerest lot of travelers that ever came to my 
shop. Judging you merely by appearances, I think you'd bet- 
ter talk to the Foolish Owl yonder." 

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

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

;< Fiddle-cum-foo, 
Howdy-do 4 ? 
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 : 


Chapter Eight 

'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 the donkey, turning to look at Scraps. : You are 
certainly a wonder, my dear, and I fancy you 'd make a splendid 
pincushion. If you belonged to me, I'd wear smoked glasses 
when I looked at you." 

"Why?" asked the Patchwork Girl. 

''Because you are so gay and gaudy." 

'It is my beauty that dazzles you," she asserted. : You 
Munchkin people all strut around in your stupid blue color, 
while I" 

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

"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, y.ou bet! ' 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Is the owl so very foolish?" asked the boy. 

' Extremely so," replied the donkey. ' Notice what vulgar 
expressions she uses. But I admire the owl for the reason that 
she is positively foolish. Owls are supposed to be so very wise, 
generally, that a foolish one is unusual, and you perhaps know 
that anything or anyone unusual is sure to be interesting to 
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 can see '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 de- 

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

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

'Foolishness! Of course! To be sure! The Foolish Owl 
must be foolish or she wouldn't be the Foolish Owl. You are 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

very complimentary to my partner, indeed," asserted the don- 
key, rubbing his front hoofs together as if highly pleased. 

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

'With great pleasure," returned the beast. ; 'Put me to 
the test, my dear Patches, and I'll prove my wisdom in the wink 
of an eye." 

"What is the best way to get to the Emerald City?" asked 

"Walk," said the donkey. 

'I know; but what road shall I take?' was the boy's next 

1 The road of yellow bricks, of course. It leads directly to 
the Emerald City." 

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

'By keeping along the path you have been following. 
You'll come to the yellow bricks pretty soon, and you'll know 
them when you see them because they're the only yellow things 
in the blue country." 

"Thank you," said the boy. "At last you have told me 

'Is that the extent of your wisdom?" asked Scraps. 

"No," replied the donkey; "I know many other things, but 
they wouldn't interest you. So I'll give you a last word of 
advice: move on, for the sooner you do that the sooner you'll 
get to the Emerald City of Oz." 


Chapter Eight 

" 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 once resumed their journey. 



' THERE seem to be very 
few houses around here, 
after all," remarked Ojo, 
after they had walked for 
a time in silence. 

'Never mind," said 
Scraps; 'we are not look- 
ing for houses, but rather 
the road of yellow bricks. 
Won't it be funny to run 
across something yellow in 
this dismal blue country?' 

: There are worse col- 
ors than yellow in this coun- 
try," asserted the Glass 
Cat, in a spiteful tone. 

: 'Oh; do you mean the 
pink pebbles you call your 
brains, and your red heart 
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 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

give your whiskers for a lovely variegated complexion like 


"I wouldn't!' retorted the cat. : Tve the clearest com- 
plexion in the world, and I don't employ a beauty-doctor, 

'I see you don't," said Scraps. 

'Please don't quarrel," begged Ojo. 'This is an import- 
ant journey, and quarreling makes me discouraged. To be 
brave, one must be cheerful, so I hope you will be as good- 
tempered as possible." 

They had traveled some distance when suddenly they faced 
a high fence which barred any further progress straight ahead. 
It ran directly across the road and enclosed a small forest of 
tall trees, set close together. When the group of adventurers 
peered through the bars of the fence they thought this forest 
looked more gloomy and forbidding than any they had ever 
seen before. 

They soon discovered that the path they had been follow- 
ing now made a bend and passed around the enclosure, but 
what made Ojo stop and look thoughtful was a sign painted 
on the fence which read : 


"That means," he said, 'that there's a Woozy inside that 
fence, and the Woozy must be a dangerous animal or they 
wouldn't tell people to beware of it. ' 


Chapter Nine 

" Let's keep out, then," replied Scraps. 'That path is out- 
side the fence, and Mr. Woozy may have all his little forest 
to himself, for all we care." 

"But one of our errands is to find a Woozy," Ojo ex- 
plained. 'The Magician 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. c This one is ugly and dangerous, or they wouldn't cage 
him up. Maybe we shall find another that is tame and gentle." 

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

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

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

"You needn't worry, Bungle," remarked the Patchwork 
Girl; "for if there is 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, if we intend to save poor Unc Nunkie. How shall 
we get over the fence?' 

"Climb," answered Scraps, and at once she began climbing 
up the rows of bars. Ojo followed and found it more easy 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

than he had expected. When they got to the top of the fence 
they began to get down on the other side and soon were in 
the forest. The Glass Cat, being small, crept between the 
lower bars and joined them. 

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

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

It is hard to face any savage beast without a sinking of the 
heart, but still more terrifying is it to face an unknown beast, 
which you have never seen even a picture of. So there is 
little wonder that the pulses of the Munchkin boy beat fast as 
he and his companions stood facing the cave. The opening 
was perfectly square, and about big enough to admit a goat. 

C I guess the Woozy is asleep," said Scraps. ' Shall I 
throw in a stone, to waken him?' 

"No; please don't," answered Ojo, his voice trembling a 
little. ' I 'm in no hurry." 

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

The creature was all squares and flat surfaces and edges. 
Its head was an exact square, like one of the building-blocks 


Chapter Nine 

a child plays with; therefore it had no ears, but heard sounds 
through two openings in the upper corners. Its nose, being in 
the center of a square surface, was flat, while the mouth was 
formed by the opening of the lower edge of the block. The 
body of the Woozy was much larger than its head, but was 
likewise block-shaped being twice as long as it was wide and 
high. The tail was square and stubby and perfectly straight, 
and the four legs were made in the same way, each being four- 
sided. The animal was covered with a thick, smooth skin and 
had no hair at all except at the extreme end of its tail, where 
there grew exactly three stiff, stubby hairs. The beast was dark 
blue in color and his face was not fierce nor ferocious in expres- 
sion, but rather good-humored and droll. 

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

'Well, well," he exclaimed; 'what a queer lot you are! 
At first I thought some of those miserable Munchkin farmers 
had come to annoy me, but I am relieved to find you in their 
stead. It is plain to me that you are a remarkable group as 
remarkable in your way as I am in mine and so you are wel- 
come to my domain. Nice place, isn't it*? But lonesome 
dreadfully lonesome." 

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

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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

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

"Why not?" 

"My skin is so thick and tough that nothing can get through 
it to hurt me. So, finding they could not destroy me, they 
drove me into this forest and built a fence around me. Un- 
kind, wasn't it?" 

"But what do you eat now?" asked Ojo. 

"Nothing at all. I've tried the leaves from the trees and 
the mosses and creeping vines, but they don't seem to suit my 
taste. So, there being no honey-bees here, I've eaten nothing 
for years." 

: You must be awfully hungry," said the boy. 'I've got 
some bread and cheese in my basket. Would you like that 
kind of food?" 

: 'Give me a nibble and I will try it; then I can tell you 
better whether it is grateful to my appetite," returned the 

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 and ate it in a twinkling. 

'That's rather good," declared the animal. "Any more?' 1 
Try some cheese," said Ojo, and threw down a piece. 

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


Chapter Nine 

' That 's mighty good !' it exclaimed. ''Anymore?' 

:c Plenty," replied Ojo. So he sat down on a stump and 
fed the Woozy bread and cheese for a long time ; for, no mat- 
ter how much the boy broke off, the loaf and the slice remained 
just as big. 

"That'll do," said the Woozy, at last; "I'm quite full. I 
hope the strange food won't give me indigestion." 

"I hope not," said Ojo. "It's what I eat." 

'Well, I must say I'm much obliged, and I'm glad you 
came," announced the beast. 'Is there anything I can do in 
return for your kindness*?' 

Yes," said Ojo earnestly, 'you have it in your power to 
do me a great favor, if you will." 

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

1 1 I want three hairs from the tip of your tail," said Ojo, 
with some hesitation. 

: Three hairs ! Why, that 's all I have on my tail or any- 
where 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 the Woozy all about the accident to Unc Nunkie and 
Margolotte, and how the three hairs were to be a part of the 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

magic charm that would restore them to life. The beast lis- 
tened with attention and when Ojo had finished the recital it 
said, with a sigh: 

' I always keep my word, for I pride myself on being square. 
So you may have the three hairs, and welcome. I think, under 
such circumstances, it would be selfish in me to refu'se you." 

: Thank you! Thank you very much," cried the boy, joy- 
fully. "May I pull out the hairs now*?' 

: 'Any time you like," answered the Woozy. 
So Ojo w r ent up to the queer creature and taking hold of 
one of the hairs began to pull. He pulled harder. He pulled 
with all his might; but the hair remained fast. 

'What's the trouble?' asked the Woozy, which Ojo had 
dragged here and there all 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 pull harder." 

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

'Wait a jiffy," called the Woozy, and then it went to a 

tree and hugged it with its front paws, so that its body couldn't 

be dragged around by the pull. 'All ready, now. Go ahead! ' 

Ojo grasped the hair with both hands and pulled with all 

his strength, while Scraps seized the boy around his waist and 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

added her strength to his. But the hair wouldn't budge. In- 
stead, it slipped out of Ojo's hands and he and Scraps both 
rolled upon the ground in a heap and never stopped until they 
bumped against the rocky cave. 

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

'Then what shall I do *?" asked the boy, despairingly. 'If 
on our return I fail to take these three hairs to the Crooked Ma- 
gician, the other things I have come to seek will be of no use 
at all, and we cannot restore Unc Nunkie and Margolotte to 

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

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

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

The Woozy looked at the boy thoughtfully. 

"Why don't you take me with you 4 ?' asked the beast. 
"Then, when at last you get to the Magician's house, he can 
surely find some way to pull out those three hairs." 

Ojo was overjoyed at this suggestion. 

"That's it!' he cried, wiping away the tears and spring- 
ing to his feet with a smile. 'If I take the three hairs to the 
Magician, it won't matter if they are still in your body." 


Chapter Nine 

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

"Come on, then," said the boy, picking up his basket; "let 
us start at once. I have several other things to find, you know." 

But the Glass Cat gave a little laugh and inquired in her 
scornful way: 

: 'How do you intend to get the beast out of this forest?' 

That puzzled them all for a time. 

'Let us go to the fence, and then we may find a way," sug- 
gested Scraps. So they walked through the forest to the fence, 
reaching it at a point exactly opposite that where they had en- 
tered 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 run- 
ner, for I can overtake a honey-bee as it flies; and I can jump 
very high, which is the reason they made such a tall fence to 
keep me in. But I can't climb at all, and I'm too big to squeeze 
between the bars of the fence." 

Ojo tried to think what to do. 

: 'Can you dig?' he asked. 

'No," answered the Woozy, 'for I have no claws. My 
feet are quite flat on the bottom of them. Nor can I gnaw 
away the boards, as I have no teeth." 

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

You haven't heard me growl, or you wouldn't say that," 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

declared the Woozy. 'When I growl, the sound echoes like 
thunder all through the valleys and woodlands, and children 
tremble with fear, and women cover their heads with their 
aprons, and big men run and hide. I suppose there is nothing 
in the world so terrible to listen to as the growl of a Woozy." 

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

'There is no danger of my growling, for I am not angry. 
Only when angry do I utter my fearful, ear-splitting, soul-shud- 
dering growl. Also, when I 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 imita- 
tion fire?' inquired the Woozy, in an injured tone. 

'In that case, I've solved the riddle," cried Scraps, dancing 
with glee. : Those fence-boards are made of wood, and if the 
Woozy stands close to the fence and lets his eyes flash fire, they 
might set fire to the fence and burn it up. Then he could walk 
away with us easily, being free." 

; 'Ah, I have never thought of that plan, or I would have 
been free long ago," said the Woozy. 'But I cannot flash fire 
from my eyes unless 7 am very angry." 

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

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

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

** Terribly angry." 

'What does it mean?' 1 ' asked Scraps. 


Chapter Nine 

'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! " and the Glass Cat said "Krizzle-Kroo! ' 
The Woozy began to tremble with anger and small sparks 
darted from his eyes. Seeing this, they all cried 'Krizzle- 
Kroo!' together, and that made the beast's eyes flash fire so 
fiercely that the fence-board caught the sparks and began to 
smoke. Then it burst into flame, and the Woozy stepped back 
and said triumphantly: 

"Aha! That did the business, all right. It was a happy 

thought for you to yell all to- 
gether, 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 sev- 
eral feet, leaving an opening big 
enough for them all to pass 
through. Ojo broke some 
branches from a tree and with 
them whipped the fire until it 
was extinguished. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'We don't want to burn the whole fence down," said he, 

'for the flames would attract the attention of the Munchkin 

farmers, who would then come and capture the Woozy again. 

I guess they'll be rather surprised when they find he's escaped." 

"So they will," declared the Woozy, chuckling gleefully. 

'When they find I'm gone the farmers will be badly scared, 

for they '11 expect me to eat up their honey-bees, as I did before." 

c That reminds me," said the boy, ' ' that you must promise 

not to eat honey-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 to have any more trouble than is necessary. I'll 
feed you all the bread and cheese you want, and that must 
satisfy you." 

"All right; I'll promise," said the Woozy, cheerfully. "And 
when I promise anything you can depend on it, 'cause I'm 

"I don't see what difference that makes," observed the 
Patchwork Girl, as they found the path and continued their 
journey. 'The shape doesn't make a thing honest, does it ?' 

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

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


Chapter Nine 

'No; you're round, so you're liable to do anything," as- 
serted the Woozy. 'Do not blame me, Miss Gorgeous, if I 
regard you with suspicion. Many a satin ribbon has a cotton 

Scraps didn't understand this, but she had an uneasy mis- 
giving that she had a cotton back herself. It would settle down, 
at times, and make her squat and dumpy, and then she had to 
roll herself in the road until her body stretched out again. 


THEY had not gone very 
far before Bungle, who 
had run on ahead, came 
bounding back to say that 
the road of yellow bricks 
was just before them. At 
once they hurried forward 
to see what this famous 
road looked like. 

It was a broad road, but 
not straight, for it wan- 
dered over hill and dale 
and picked out the easiest 
places to go. All its length 
and breadth was paved with 
smooth bricks of a bright 
yellow color, so it was 
smooth and level except in 
a few places where the 
bricks had crumbled or 
been removed, leaving 
holes that might cause the 
unwary to stumble. 

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

"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've chased 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't mingled much in society." 

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

"Me? With my heart-rending growl my horrible, shud- 
derf ul growl ? I should 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 be afraid when we get to the Emerald City, for 
Unc Nunkie has told me that Ozma, our girl Ruler, is very 
lovely and kind, and tries to help everyone who is in trouble. 
But they say there are many dangers lurking on the road to 
the great Fairy City, and so we must be very careful." 

"I hope 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 break my 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 they are all fast colors, Ojo?" she asked anxiously. 

'They seem fast enough when you run," he replied; and 


Chapter Ten 

then, looking ahead of them, he exclaimed: 'Oh, what lovely 

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

'Why, they are not trees at all," said Scraps; 'they are 
just monstrous plants." 

That is what they really were : masses of great broad leaves 
which rose from the ground far into the air, until they towered 
twice as high as the top of the Patchwork Girl's head, who was 
a little taller than Ojo. The plants formed rows on both sides 
of the road and from each plant rose a dozen or more of the 
big broad leaves, which swayed continually from side to side, 
although no wind was blowing. But the most curious thing 
about the swaying leaves was their color. They seemed to 
have a general groundwork of blue, but here and there other 
colors glinted at times through the blue gorgeous yellows, 
turning to pink, purple, orange and scarlet, mingled with more 
sober browns and grays each appearing as a blotch or stripe 
anywhere on a leaf and then disappearing, to be replaced by 
some other color of a different shape. 

The changeful coloring of the great leaves was very beau- 
tiful, but it was bewildering, as well, and the novelty of the 
scene drew our travelers close to the line of plants, where 
they stood watching them with rapt interest. 

Suddenly a leaf bent lower than usual and touched the 
Patchwork Girl. Swiftly it enveloped her in its embrace, cov- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

ering her completely in its thick folds, and then it swayed back 
upon its stem. 

'Why, she's gone! " gasped Ojo, in amazement, and listen- 
ing carefully he thought he could hear the muffled screams of 

Scraps coming from the center of the folded leaf. But, be- 
fore he could think what he ought to do to save her, another 
leaf bent down and captured the Glass Cat, rolling around the 
little creature until she was completely hidden, and then 
straightening up again upon its stem. 


Chapter Ten 

"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 last leaf of the row of plants seized the beast even as 
he ran and instantly he disappeared from sight. 

The boy had no chance to escape. Half a dozen of the 
great leaves were bending toward him from different directions 
and as he stood hesitating one of them clutched him in its em- 
brace. 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 when he remembered that all his little party had 
been captured, even as he was, 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, but thick and firm. It was like a great bandage all 
around him and he found it difficult to move his body or limbs 
in order to change their position. 

The minutes passed and became hours. Ojo wondered how 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

long one could live in such a condition and if the leaf would 
gradually sap his strength and even his life, in order to feed 
itself. The little Munchkin boy had never heard of any per- 
son dying in the Land of Oz, but he knew one could suffer a 
great deal of pain. His greatest fear at this time was that he 
would always remain imprisoned in the beautiful leaf and 
never see the light of day again. 

No sound came to him through the leaf; all around was in- 
tense silence. Ojo wondered if Scraps had stopped scream- 
ing, or if the folds of the leaf prevented his hearing her. By 
and by he thought he heard a whistle, as of some one whistling 
a tune. Yes; it really must be some one whistling, he decided, 
for he could follow the strains of a pretty Munchkin melody 
that Unc Nunkie used to sing to him. The sounds were low 
and sweet and, although they reached Ojo's ears very faintly, 
they were clear and harmonious. 

Could the leaf whistle, Ojo wondered^ Nearer and nearer 
came the sounds and then they seemed to be just the other 
side of the leaf that was hugging him. 

Suddenly the whole leaf toppled and fell, carrying the boy 
with it, and while he sprawled at full length the folds slowly 
relaxed and set him free. He scrambled quickly to his feet 
and found that a strange man was standing before him a 
man so curious in appearance that the boy stared with round 

He was a big man, with shaggy whiskers, shaggy eyebrows, 


Chapter Ten 

shaggy hair but kindly blue eyes that were gentle as those 
of a cow. On his head was a green velvet hat with a jeweled 
band, which was all shaggy around the brim. Rich but shaggy 
laces were at his throat; a coat with shaggy edges was decorated 
with diamond buttons; the velvet breeches had jeweled buckles 
at the knees and shags all around the bottoms. On his breast 
hung a medallion bearing a picture of Princess Dorothy of Oz, 
and in his hand, as he stood looking at Ojo, was a sharp knife 
shaped 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 seeT replied the other, with a smile; : Tm 
the Shaggy Man." 

"Yes; I can see that," said the boy, nodding. 'Was it 
you who rescued me from the leaf?' 

: 'None other, you, may be sure. But take care, or I shall 
have to rescue you again." 

Ojo gave a jump, for he saw several broad leaves leaning 
toward him; but the Shaggy Man began to whistle again, and 
at the sound the leaves all straightened up on their stems and 
kept still. 

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

"You see, the music charms 'em," said he. '' Singing or 
whistling it doesn't matter which makes 'em behave, and 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

nothing else will. I always whistle as I go by 'em and so they 
always let me alone. To-day as I went by, whistling, I saw a 
leaf curled and knew there must be something inside it. I 
cut down the leaf with my knife and out you popped. Lucky 
I passed by, wasn't it ?' 

: You were very kind," said Ojo, "and I thank you. Will 
you please rescue my companions, also?' 

'What companions?" asked the Shaggy Man. 

'The leaves grabbed them all," said the boy. There's 
a Patchwork Girl and ' : 
"A what?" 

" A girl made of patchwork, you know. She 's alive and her 
name is Scraps. And there's a Glass Cat ' : 
"Glass?" asked the Shaggy Man. 
"All glass." 
"And alive?" 

: Yes," said Ojo; : 'she has pink brains. And there's a 

'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 that won't come out and " 

"What won't come out?' 1 asked the Shaggy Man; "the 

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Of course," said the Shaggy Man, nodding his shaggy 
head. And then he walked back among the plants, still whist- 
ling, and found the three leaves which were curled around Ojo's 
traveling companions. The first leaf he cut down released 
Scraps, and on seeing her the Shaggy Man threw back his 
shaggy head, opened wide his mouth and laughed so shaggily 
and yet so merrily that Scraps liked him at once. Then he 
took off his hat and made her a low bow, saying : 

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

When he cut down the second leaf he rescued the Glass Cat, 
and Bungle was so frightened that she scampered away like a 
streak and soon had joined Ojo, when she sat beside him pant- 
ing and trembling. The last plant of all the row had cap- 
tured the Woozy, and a big bunch in the center of the curled 
leaf showed plainly where he was. With his sharp knife the 
Shaggy Man sliced off the stem of the leaf and as it fell and 
unfolded out trotted the Woozy and escaped beyond the reach 
of any more of the dangerous plants. 


SOON the entire party was 
gathered on the road of yel- 
low bricks, quite beyond 
the reach of the beautiful 
but treacherous plants. 
The Shaggy Man, staring 
first at one and then at the 
other, seemed greatly pleas- 
ed and interested. 

'I've seen queer things 
since I came to the Land of 
Oz," said he, 'but never 
anything queerer than this 
band of adventurers. Let 
us sit down a while, and 
have a talk and get ac- 

'Haven't you always 
lived in the Land of Oz?' 
asked the Munchkin boy. 

'No; I used to live in 
the big, outside world. But 
I came here once with Dor- 
othy, and Ozma let me 

"How do you like Oz?" 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

asked Scraps. : ' Isn't the country and the climate grand?' 

:< It's the finest country in all the world, even if it is a fairy- 
land, and I 'm happy every minute I live in it," said the Shaggy 
Man. "But tell me something about yourselves." 

So Ojo related the story of his visit to the house of the 
Crooked Magician, and how he met there the Glass Cat, and 
how the Patchwork Girl was brought to life and of the terrible 
accident to Unc Nunkie and Margolotte. Then he told how he 
had set out to find the five different things which the Magician 
needed to make a charm that would restore the marble figures 
to life, one requirement being three hairs from a Woozy's tail. 

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

: 'I see," returned the Shaggy Man, who had listened with 
interest to the story. 'But perhaps I, who am big and strong, 
can pull those three hairs from the Woozy's tail." 

'Try it, if you like," said the Woozy. 
So the Shaggy Man tried it, but pull as hard as he could 
he failed to get the hairs out of the Woozy's tail. So he sat 
down again and wiped his shaggy face with a shaggy silk hand- 
kerchief and said : 

'It doesn't matter. If you can keep the Woozy until you 
get the rest of the things you need, you can take the beast and 
his three hairs to the Crooked Magician and let him find a way 
to extract 'em. What are the other things you are to find ? " 


Chapter Eleven 

'One," said Ojo, 'is a six-leaved clover." 

: You ought to find that in the fields around the Emerald 
City," said the Shaggy Man. There is a Law against pick- 
ing six-leaved clovers, but I think I can get Ozma to let you 
have one." 

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

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

'Oh, I've 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 Woodman will do all in his power to help you to save 
your Unc Nunkie and poor Margolotte." 

'The next thing I must find," said the Munchkin boy, <: 'is 
a gill of water from a dark well." 

"Indeed! Well, that is more difficult," said the Shaggy 
Man, scratching his left ear in a puzzled way. 'I've never 
heard of a dark well; have you?' 
"No," 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 Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'The Scarecrow! But surely, sir, a scarecrow can't know 

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

''Better than mine?' asked Scraps. 

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

'Well, you can't see the Scarecrow's brains work, but they 
do a lot of clever thinking," asserted the Shaggy Man. 'If 
anyone knows where a dark well is, it's my friend the Scare- 


' Where does he live?' inquired Ojo. 

: 'He has a splendid castle in the Winkie Country, near to 
the palace of his friend the Tin Woodman, and he is often to 
be found in the Emerald City, where he visits Dorothy at the 
royal palace." 

"Then we will ask him about the dark well," said Ojo. 
'But what 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 said it wouldn't be called for by the recipe if it 
couldn't be found, and therefore I must search until I find it." 

"I wish you good luck," said the Shaggy Man, shaking his 



The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

head doubtfully; "but I imagine you'll have a hard job getting 
a drop of oil from a live man's body. There 's blood in a body, 
but no oil." 

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

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

"I hate dignity," cried Scraps, kicking a pebble high in the 
air and then trying to catch it as it fell. : ' Half the fools and 
all the wise folks are dignified, and I 'm neither the one nor the 

" She's just crazy," explained the Glass Cat. 

The Shaggy Man laughed. 

" She's delightful, in her way," he said. ;< I'm sure Dor- 
othy will be pleased with her, and the Scarecrow will dote on 
her. Did you say you were traveling toward the Emerald 

: Yes," replied Ojo. "I thought that the best place to go, 
at first, because the six-leaved clover may be found there." 

Til 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, r 'I wasn't going anywhere in par- 
ticular. I ' ve been a rover all my life, and although Ozma has 
given me a suite of beautiful rooms in her palace I still get the 


Chapter Eleven 

wandering fever once in a while and start out to roam the 
country over. I've been away from the Emerald City several 
weeks, this time, and now that I've met you and your friends 
I 'm sure it will interest me to accompany you to the great city 
of Oz and introduce you to my friends." 

: 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 my friends. If they are really true friends, they may 
be anything they like, for all of me." 

1 There 's some sense in that," said Scraps, nodding her queer 
head in approval. 'Come on, and let's get to the Emerald 
City as soon as possible." With this she ran up the path, skip- 
ping and dancing, and then turned to await them. 

'It is quite a distance from here to the Emerald City," re- 
marked the Shaggy Man, "so we shall not get there to-day, 
nor to-morrow. Therefore let us take the jaunt in an easy 
manner. I 'm an old traveler and have found that I never gain 
anything by being in a hurry. ; Take it easy' is my motto. 
If you can't take it easy, take it as easy as you can." 

After walking some distance over the road of yellow bricks 
Ojo said he was hungry and would stop to eat some bread and 
cheese. He offered a portion of the food to the Shaggy Man, 
who thanked him but refused it. 

"When I start out on my travels," said he, a l carry along 
enough square meals to last me several weeks. Think I'll in- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

dulge in one now, as long as we're stopping anyway." 

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

: That," announced the Shaggy Man, 'is a square meal, 
in condensed form. Invention of the great Professor Woggle- 
bug, of the Royal College of Athletics. It contains soup, fish, 
roast meat, salad, apple-dumplings, ice cream and chocolate- 
drops, all boiled down to this small size, so it can be conven- 
iently carried and swallowed when you are hungry and need 
a square meal." 

'I'm square," said the Woozy. "Give me one, please." 
So the Shaggy Man gave the Woozy a tablet from his bot- 
tle and the beast ate it in a twinkling. 

: You have now had a six course dinner," declared the 
Shaggy Man. 

'Pshaw!" said the Woozy, ungratefully, "I want to taste 
something. There 's no fun in that sort of eating." 

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

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

You are quite wrong, my poor beast," said the Shaggy 
Man in a tone of pity. : Think how tired your jaws would 
get chewing a square meal like this, if it were not condensed 
to the size of a small tablet which you can swallow in a 



Chapter Eleven 

"Chewing isn't tiresome; it's fun," maintained the Woozy. 
"I always chew the honey-bees when I catch them. Give me 
some bread and cheese, Ojo." 

: 'No, no! You've already eaten a big dinner!' protested 
the Shaggy Man. 

"May be," answered the Woozy; 'but I guess I'll fool 
myself by munching some bread and cheese. I may not be hun- 
gry, having eaten all those things you gave me, but I consider 
this eating business a matter of taste, and I like to realize what's 
going into me." 

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

At this moment a patter of footsteps was heard, and look- 
ing up they saw the live phonograph standing before them. It 
seemed to have passed through many adventures since Ojo and 
his comrades last saw trie machine, for the varnish of its wooden 
case was all marred and dented and scratched in a way that 
gave it an aged and disreputable appearance. 

' Dear me ! " exclaimed Ojo, staring hard. ' What has hap- 
pened to you?' 

'Nothing much," replied the phonograph in a sad and de- 
pressed voice. 'I've had enough things thrown at me, since 
I left you, to stock a department store and furnish half a dozen 

"Are you so broken up that you can't play?" asked Scraps. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

"No; I still am able to grind out delicious music. Just 
now I've a record on tap that is really superb," said the phono- 
graph, growing more cheerful. 

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

'Then why was I ever invented*?" demanded the machine, 
in a tone of indignant protest. 

They looked at one another inquiringly, but no one could 
answer such a puzzling question. Finally the Shaggy Man 

'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 appre- 
ciate happiness more. Tell me, Phony, what is this record like, 
which you say you have on tap 4 ?' 

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

"Makes civilized folks wild folks, eh 4 ? Then it's danger- 


" Wild with joy, I mean," explained the phonograph. c Lis- 
ten. This song will prove a rare treat to you, I know. It made 
the author rich for an author. It is called 'My Lulu.' 

Then the phonograph began to play. A strain of odd, jerky 
sounds was followed by these words, sung by a man through 


Chapter Eleven 

his nose with great vigor 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 a sulky tone of voice. 

: 'A popular song 4 ?' 

: Yes. One that the feeble-minded can remember the words 
of and those ignorant of music can whistle or sing. That makes 
a popular song popular, and the time is coming when it will 
take the place of all other songs." 

'That time 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 throttled by 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 a matter of kindness to the 
people you might meet if allowed to run around loose. Hav- 
ing performed this painful duty I shall : 

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

The Shaggy Man sat down again and seemed well pleased. 
: 'Some one else will save me the trouble of scattering that pho- 
nograph," said he; 'for it is not possible that such a music- 
maker can last long in the Land of Oz. When you are rested, 
friends, let us go on our way/' 

During the afternoon the travelers found themselves in a 
lonely and uninhabited part of the country. Even the fields 
were no longer cultivated and the country began to resemble 
a wilderness. The road of yellow bricks seemed to have been 
neglected and became uneven and more difficult to walk upon. 
Scrubby underbrush grew on either side of the way, while huge 
rocks were scattered around in abundance. 


Chapter Eleven 

But this did not deter Ojo and his friends from trudging 
on, and they beguiled the journey with jokes and cheerful con- 
versation. Toward evening they reached a crystal spring which 
gushed from a tall rock by the roadside and near this spring 
stood a deserted cabin. Said the Shaggy Man, halting here: 
'We may as well pass the night here, where there is shel- 
ter for our heads and good water to drink. Road beyond here 
is pretty bad; worst we shall 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 made a fire on the hearth. The fire delighted Scraps, 
who danced before it until Ojo warned her she might set fire 
to herself and burn up. After that the Patchwork Girl kept 
at a respectful distance from the darting flames, but the Woozy 
lay down before the fire like a big dog and seemed to enjoy its 

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Like a song bird. I'll prove it. I'll sing a song I com- 
posed myself. Don't tell anyone I 'm a poet; they might want 
me to write a book. Don't tell 'em I can sing, or they'd want 
me to make records for that awful phonograph. Haven't time 
to be a public benefactor, so I'll just sing you this little song 
for your own amusement." 

They were glad enough to be entertained, and listened with 
interest while the Shaggy Man chanted the following verses 
to a tune that was not unpleasant: 

"I'll sing a song of Ozland, where wondrous creatures 

And fruits and flowers and shady bowers abound in every 


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 


Chapter Eleven 

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 


Nor old Professor Wogglebug, 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 

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 


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 

He talks and walks mechanically, when he's wound up 


And we've a Hungry Tiger who would babies love to eat 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

But never does because we feed him other kinds of meat. 

It's hard to name all of the freaks this noble Land's 

' Twould make my song so very long that you would soon be 


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 folks can boast; 
And now our rare museum will include a Cat of Glass, 
A Woozy, and last but not least a crazy Patchwork 


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

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Tell me," said the Patchwork Girl earnestly, "do all those 
queer people 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 
looking interested. "A Pink Kitten*? How absurd! Is it 
glass 4 ?" 

'No; just ordinary kitten." 

' Then it can't amount to much. I have pink brains, and 
you can see 'em work." 

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

The Glass Cat seemed annoyed. 

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

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

'I'm solid now; solid glass." 

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

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


Chapter Eleven 

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

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



NEXT morning they 
started out bright and early 
to follow the road of yellow 
bricks toward the Emerald 
City. The little Munchkin 
boy was beginning to feel 
tired from the long walk, 
and he had a great many 
things to think of and con- 
sider besides the events of 
the journey. At the won- 
derful Emerald City, which 
he would presently reach, 
were so many strange and 
curious people that he was 
half afraid of meeting them 
and wondered if they would 
prove friendly and kind. 
Above all else, he could not 
drive from his mind the im- 
portant errand on which he 
had come, and he was de- 
termined to devote every 
energy to finding the things 
that were necessary to pre- 
pare the magic recipe. He 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

believed that until dear Unc Nunkie was restored to life he 
could feel no joy in anything, and often he wished that Unc 
could be with him, to see all the astonishing things Ojo was 
seeing. But alas Unc Nunkie was now a marble statue in 
the house of the Crooked Magician and Ojo must not falter 
in his efforts to save him. 

The country through which they were passing was still 
rocky and deserted, with here and there a bush or a tree to 
break the dreary landscape. Ojo noticed one tree, especially, 
because it had such long, silky leaves and was so beautiful in 
shape. As he approached it he studied the tree earnestly, won- 
dering if any fruit grew on it or if it bore pretty flowers. 

Suddenly he became aware that he had been looking at that 
tree a long time at least for five minutes and it had re- 
mained in the same position, although the boy had continued 
to walk steadily on. So he stopped short, and when he stopped, 
the tree and all the landscape, as well as his companions, moved 
on before him and left him far behind. 

Ojo uttered such a cry of astonishment that it aroused the 
Shaggy Man, who also halted. The others then stopped, too, 
and walked back to the boy. 

'What's wrong?" asked the Shaggy Man. 
'Why, we're not moving forward a bit, no matter how 
fast we walk," declared Ojo. 'Now that we have stopped, 
we are moving backward! Can't you see? Just notice that 


Chapter Twelve 

Scraps looked down at her feet and said: 'The yellow 
bricks are not moving." 

'But the whole road is," answered Ojo. 

'True; quite true," agreed the Shaggy Man. 'I know 
all about the tricks of this road, but I have been thinking of 
something else and didn't realize where we were." 

" It will 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 to beat this tricky road. I've traveled this way 
before, you know. Turn around, all of you, and walk back- 

"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 to go and began walking backward. In an instant Ojo 
noticed they were gaining ground and as they proceeded in 
this curious way they soon passed the tree which had first at- 
tracted his attention to their difficulty. 

"How long must we keep this up, Shags?' asked Scraps, 
who was constantly tripping and tumbling down, only to get 
up again with a laugh at her mishap. 

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

A few minutes later he called to them to turn about quickly 
and step forward, and as they obeyed the order they found 
themselves treading solid ground. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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

With new courage and energy they now trudged forward 


and after a time came to a place where the road cut through a 
low hill, leaving high banks on either side of it. They were 
traveling along this cut, talking together, when the Shaggy 
Man seized Scraps with one arm and Ojo with another and 
shouted: "Stop!" 

'What's wrong now?" asked the Patchwork Girl. 


Chapter Twelve 

"See there!" answered the Shaggy Man, pointing with his 

Directly in the center of the road lay a motionless object 
that bristled all over with sharp quills, which resembled arrows. 
The body was as big as a ten-bushel-basket, but the projecting 
quills made it appear to be four times bigger. 

"Well, what of it?" asked Scraps. 

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

"Chiss! What is Chiss?" 

:C I think it is merely an overgrown porcupine, but here in 
Oz they consider Chiss an evil spirit. He's different from a 
reg'lar porcupine, because he can throw his quills in any direc- 
tion, which an American porcupine cannot do. That's what 
makes old Chiss so dangerous. If we get 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 cow- 
ardly, I 'm sure, and if it ever heard my awful, terrible, fright- 
ful growl, it would be scared stiff." 

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

'That is the only ferocious thing about me," asserted the 
Woozy with evident pride. "My growl makes an earthquake 
blush and the thunder ashamed of itself. If I growled at that 
creature you call Chiss, it would immediately think the world 
had cracked in two and bumped against the sun and moon, and 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

that would cause the monster to run as far and as fast as its 
legs could carry it." 

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

: 'But you forget," returned the Woozy; "my tremendous 
growl would also frighten 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 terrific noise of your growl; but Chiss won't 
expect it, and it will scare him away." 

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." 

4 Very well, then," said the Woozy in a determined voice, 
and advanced a few steps toward the giant porcupine. Paus- 
ing 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. 


Chapter Twelve 

: 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, in caverns or in the sky," protested the Woozy. "I 
wonder you stood the shock so well. Didn't you feel the 

ground tremble? I suppose Chiss is now quite dead with 

The Shaggy Man laughed merrily. 
'Poor Wooz!" said he; "your growl wouldn't scare a fly." 

The Woozy seemed to be humiliated and surprised. It 
hung its head a moment, as if in shame or sorrow, but then it 
said with renewed confidence: " Anyhow, my eyes can flash 
fire; and good fire, too; good enough to set fire to a fence! ' 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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

'Perhaps," said the Woozy, humbly, 'I have been mis- 
taken about my growl. It has always sounded very fearful to 
me, but that may have been because it was so close to my ears." 

"Never mind," Ojo said soothingly; 'it is a great talent 
to be able to flash fire from your eyes. No one else can do that." 
As they stood hesitating what to do Chiss stirred and sud- 
denly a shower of quills came flying toward them, almost filling 
the air, they were so many. Scraps realized in an instant that 


Chapter Twelve 

they had gone too near to Chiss for safety, so she sprang in 
front of Ojo and shielded him from the darts, which stuck 
their points into her own body until she resembled one of those 
targets they shoot arrows at in archery games. The Shaggy 
Man dropped flat on his face to avoid the shower, but one quill 
struck him in the leg and went far in. As for the Glass Cat. 
the quills rattled off her body without making even a scratch, 
and the skin of the Woozy was so thick and tough that he was 
not hurt at all. 

When the attack was over they all ran to the Shaggy Man, 
who was moaning and groaning, and Scraps promptly pulled 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

the quill out of his leg. Then up he jumped and ran over to 
Chiss, putting his foot on the monster's neck and holding it a 
prisoner. The body of the great porcupine was now as smooth 
as leather, except for the holes where the quills had been, for it 
had shot every single quill in that one wicked shower. 

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

T'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 shall put an end to you." 

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

'Perhaps that is true," said the Shaggy Man in a tone of 
disappointment. : ' Seems to me I've been told before that 
you can't be killed. But if I let you go, what 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 must promise 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 what Nature intends it to do. It isn't fair for you to 
blame me. If it were wrong for me to throw quills, then I 
wouldn't be made with quills to throw. The proper thing for 
you to do is to keep out of my way." 

' Why, there J s some sense in that argument," admitted the 


Chapter Twelve 

Shaggy Man, thoughtfully; "but people who are strangers, and 
don't know you are here, won't be able to keep out of your 

'Tell you what," said Scraps, who was trying to pull the 
quills out of her own body, "let's gather up all the quills and 
take them away with us; 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 while I hold Chiss a prisoner; for, if I let him go, he will 
get some of his quills and be able to throw them again." 

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

'It's the meanest trick I ever heard of," muttered the por- 
cupine gloomily. 'How would you like it, Shaggy Man, if I 
took all your shags away from you?' 

: 'If I threw my shags and hurt people, you would be wel- 
come to capture them," was the reply. 

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

When they came to a flat stone by the roadside the Shaggy 
Man sat down to rest, and then Ojo opened his basket and took 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

out the bundle of charms the Crooked Magician had given him. 

'I am Ojo the Unlucky," he said, "or we would never have 
met that dreadful porcupine. But I will see if I can find any- 
thing among these charms which will cure your leg." 

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

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

'The charm you need is a needle and thread," said the 
Shaggy Man. 'But do 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, or that 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 water they tied a heavy stone to the bundle 
of quills and sunk it to the bottom of the pond, to avoid carry- 
ing it farther. 





FROM here on the coun- 
try improved and the 
desert places began to give 
way to fertile spots; still 
no houses were yet to be 
seen near the road. There 
were some hills, with val- 
leys between them, and on 
reaching the top of one of 
these hills the travelers 
found before them a high 
wall, running to the right 
and the left as far as their 
eyes could reach. Immedi- 
ately in front of them, 
where the wall crossed the 
roadway, stood a gate hav- 
ing stout iron bars that ex- 
tended from top to bottom. 
They found, on coming 
nearer, that this gate was 
locked with a great pad- 
lock, rusty through lack of 

( Well," said Scraps, 
"I guess we'll stop here." 159 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'It's a good guess," replied Ojo. 'Our way is barred by 
this great wall and gate. It looks as if no one had passed 
through in many years." 

" Looks are deceiving," declared the Shaggy Man, laughing 
at their disappointed faces, " and this barrier is the most deceiv- 
ing thing in all Oz." 

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

"True," replied Ojo, going a little nearer to peep through 


Chapter Thirteen 

the bars of the gate. 'What shall we do, Shaggy Man? If we 
had wings we might fly over the wall, but we cannot climb 
it and unless we get to the Emerald City 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 this gate, 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 road and placed Scraps just behind him, with her pad- 
ded hands on his shoulders. After the Patchwork Girl came 
the Woozy, who held a part of her skirt in his mouth. Then, 
last of all, was the Glass Cat, holding fast to the Woozy's tail 
with her glass jaws. 

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

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


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

So the Shaggy Man tied his red handkerchief over the Patch- 
work Girl's eyes and examined all the others to make sure 
they had their eyes fast shut and could see nothing. 

'What's the game, anyhow blind-man's-buff *?" asked 

' Keep quiet ! " commanded the Shaggy Man, sternly. ' All 
ready? Then follow me." 

He took Ojo's hand and led him forward over the road of 
yellow bricks, toward the gate. Holding fast to one another 
they all followed in a row, expecting every minute to bump 
against the iron bars. The Shaggy Man also had his eyes 
closed, but marched straight ahead, nevertheless, and after he 
had taken one hundred steps, by actual count, he stopped and 

'Now you may open your eyes." 

They did so, and to their astonishment found the wall and 
the gateway far behind them, while in front the former Blue 
Country of the Munchkins had given way to green fields, with 
pretty farm-houses scattered among them. 

1 That wall," explained the Shaggy Man, " is what is called 
an optical illusion. It is quite real while you have your eyes 
open, but if you are not looking at it the barrier doesn't exist 
at all. It's the same way with many other evils in life; they 
seem to exist, and yet it's all seeming and not true. You will 
notice that the wall or what we thought was a wall sepa- 
rates the Munchkin Country from the green country that sur- 


Chapter Thirteen 

rounds the Emerald City, which lies exactly in the center of 
Oz. There are two roads of yellow bricks through the Munch- 
kin Country, but the one we followed is the best of the two. 
Dorothy once traveled the other way, and met with more 
dangers than we did. But all our troubles are over for the 
present, as another day's journey will bring us to the great 
Emerald City." 

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

The woman of this house got her needle and thread and 
sewed up the holes made by the porcupine quills in the Patch- 
work Girl's body, after which Scraps was assured she looked 
as beautiful as ever. 

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

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

"Not much," replied the woman. You are still very gcr- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

geous, in spite of your long journey." 

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

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

After they had rested themselves they renewed their jour- 
ney, finding the road now smooth and pleasant to walk upon 
and the country growing more beautiful the nearer they drew 
to the Emerald City. 

By and by Ojo began to walk on the green grass, looking 
carefully around him. 

'What are you trying to find*?" asked Scraps. 
; A six-leaved clover," said he. 

Don't do that!' exclaimed the Shaggy Man, earnestly. 
'It's against the Law to pick a six-leaved clover. You must 
wait until you get Ozma's consent." 

' She wouldn't know it," declared the boy. 
'Ozma knows many things," said the Shaggy Man. 'In 
her room is a Magic Picture that shows any scene in the Land 
of Oz where strangers or travelers happen to be. She may be 
watching the picture of us even now, and noticing everything 
that we do." 




Chapter Thirteen 

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

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

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

The Shaggy Man looked at him in surprise. 

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

Ojo sulked a while, but finally returned to the road and 
kept away from the green clover. The boy was moody and 
bad tempered for an hour or two afterward, because he could 
really see no harm in picking a six-leaved clover, if he found 
one, and in spite of what the Shaggy Man had said he con- 
sidered 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 then another. As they were walking through 
this grove they heard some one in the distance singing, and 
the sounds grew nearer and nearer until they could distin- 
guish the words, although the bend in the road still hid the 
singer. The song was something like this : 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'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." 


Chapter Thirteen 

"What, a live Scarecrow*?" asked Ojo. 

'Yes; the one I told you of. He's a splendid fellow, and 
very intelligent. 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's legs nearly touched the ground. 

The Scarecrow wore the blue dress of the Munchkins, in 
which country he was made, and on his head was set a 
peaked hat with a flat brim trimmed with tinkling bells. A 
rope was tied around his waist to hold him in shape, for he was 
stuffed with straw in every part of him except the top of his 
head, where at one time the Wizard of Oz had placed sawdust, 
mixed with needles and pins, to sharpen his wits. The head 
itself was merely a bag of cloth, fastened to the body at the 
neck, and on the front of this bag was painted the face ears, 
eyes, nose and mouth. 

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

the tops of them. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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

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

As the Scarecrow came in sight of the party of travelers, he 
reined in his wooden steed and dismounted, greeting the Shaggy 
Man with a smiling nod. Then he turned to stare at the Patch- 
work Girl in wonder, while she in turn stared at him. 

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

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


Chapter Thirteen 

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

"Allow me, Miss Patchwork," said the Shaggy Man, "to 
present my friend, the Right Royal Scarecrow of Oz. Scare- 
crow, this is Miss Scraps Patches ; 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 are the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever be- 

"That is a high compliment from one who is himself so 
beautiful," murmured Scraps, casting down her suspender-but- 
ton eyes by lowering her head. 'But, tell me, good sir, are 
you not a trifle lumpy 4 ?' 

"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 ever bunch *?' 

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

"But cotton is a high-grade stuffing. I may say it is even 
more stylish, not to say aristocratic, than straw," said the Scare- 
crow politely. " Still, it is but proper that one so entrancingly 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

lovely should have the best stuffing there is going. I er 
I'm so glad I've met you, Miss Scraps! Introduce us again, 

;< Once is enough," replied the Shaggy Man, laughing at his 
friend's enthusiasm. 

'Then tell me where you found her, and Dear me, what 
a queer cat! What are you made of gelatine?' 

'Pure glass," answered the cat, proud to have attracted the 
Scarecrow's attention. 'I am much more beautiful than the 
Patchwork Girl. I'm transparent, and Scraps isn't; I've pink 
brains you can see 'em work; and I've a ruby heart, finely 
polished, while Scraps hasn't any heart at all." 

'No more have I," said the Scarecrow, shaking hands with 
Scraps, as if to congratulate her on the fact. ; 'I've a friend, 
the Tin Woodman, who has a heart, but I find I get along 
pretty well without one. And so Well, well! here's a little 
Munchkin boy, too. Shake hands, my little man. How are 

Ojo placed his hand in the flabby stuffed glove that served 
the Scarecrow for a hand, and the Scarecrow pressed it so cor- 
dially that the straw in his glove crackled. 

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

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


Chapter Thirteen 

The Woozy never even winked. 

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

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

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

"I think the trouble is that you haven't been properly in- 
troduced," said the Scarecrow, regarding the Woozy with much 
wonder, for he had never seen such a queer animal before. 
'The Sawhorse is the favorite steed of Princess Ozma, the 
Ruler of the Land of Oz, and he lives in a stable decorated 
with pearls and emeralds, at the rear of the royal palace. He 
is swift as the wind, untiring, and is kind to his friends. All 
the people of Oz respect the Sawhorse highly, and when I visit 
Ozma she sometimes allows me to ride him as I am doing 
to-day. Now you know what an important personage the Saw- 
horse is, and if some one perhaps yourself will tell me 
your name, your rank and station, and your history, it will give 
me pleasure to relate them to the Sawhorse. This will lead to 
mutual respect and friendship." 

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

' This square beast is called the Woozy, and he isn't of much 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

importance except 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 
hairs important? The Shaggy Man has thousands of hairs, but 
no one has ever accused him of being important." 

So Ojo related the sad story of Unc Nunkie's transforma- 
tion into a marble statue, and told how he had set out to find 
the things the Crooked Magician wanted, in order to make a 
charm that would restore his uncle to life. One of the re- 
quirements was three hairs from a Woozy's tail, but not being 
able to pull out the hairs they had been obliged to take the 
Woozy with them. 

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

'We must see Ozma about this matter," he said. 'That 
Crooked Magician is breaking the Law by practicing magic 
without a license, and I'm not sure 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 know how he can be restored to life, and I'm 
going to do it Ozma or no Ozma! What right has this girl 
Ruler to keep my Unc Nunkie a statue forever?' 

'Don't worry about that just now," advised the Scarecrow. 


Chapter Thirteen 

"Go on to the Emerald City, and when you reach it have the 
Shaggy Man take you to see Dorothy. Tell her your story and 
I'm sure she will help you. Dorothy is Ozma's best friend, 
and if you can win her to your side your uncle is pretty safe to 
live again." Then he turned to the Woozy and said: 'I'm 

afraid you are not important enough to be introduced to the 
Sawhorse, after all." 

"I'm a better beast than he is," retorted the Woozy, in- 
dignantly. :< My eyes can flash fire, and his can't." 

'Is this true?" inquired the Scarecrow, turning to the 
Munchkin boy. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

: Yes," said Ojo, and told how the Woozy had set fire to 
the fence. 

"Have you any other accomplishments'?" asked the Scare- 


I have a most terrible growl that is, sometimes" said 
the Woozy, as Scraps laughed merrily and the Shaggy Man 
smiled. But the Patchwork Girl's laugh made the Scarecrow 
forget all about the Woozy. He said to her : 

'What an admirable young lady you are, and what jolly 
good company! We must be better acquainted, for never be- 
fore have I met a girl with such exquisite coloring or such nat- 
ural, artless manners." 

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

"When you arrive at the Emerald City I will see you 
again," continued the Scarecrow. "Just now I am going to 
call upon an old friend an ordinary young lady named Jin- 
jur who has promised to repaint my left ear for me. You 
may have noticed that the paint on my left ear has peeled off 
and faded, which affects my hearing on that side. Jinjur al- 
ways fixes me up wh>;n I get weather-worn." 

'When do you expect to return to the Emerald City*?' 
asked the Shaggy Man. 

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


Chapter Thirteen 

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

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



'WHAT a queer man," 
remarked the Munchkin 
boy, when the party had 
resumed its journey. 

"And so nice and 
polite," added Scraps, bob- 
bing her head. "I think he 
is the handsomest man I 've 
seen since I came to life." 

"Handsome is as hand- 
some does," quoted the 
Shaggy Man; "but we must 
admit that no living scare- 
crow is handsomer. The 
chief merit of my friend is 
that he is a great thinker, 
and in Oz it is considered 
good policy to follow his 

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

You can't see 'em 
work, but they're there, all 
right," declared the Shaggy 
Man. "I hadn't much 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

confidence in his brains myself, when first I came to Oz, for 
a humbug Wizard gave them to him; but I was soon convinced 
that the Scarecrow is really wise; and, unless his brains make 
him so, such wisdom is unaccountable." 

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

"Not now. He was once, but he has reformed and now as- 
sists Glinda the Good, who is the Royal Sorceress of Oz and 
the only one licensed to practice magic or sorcery. Glinda 
has taught our old Wizard a good many clever 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 
be discouraged yet. We will go to Princess Dorothy and tell 
her your troubles, and then we will let her talk to Ozma. Dor- 
othy has the kindest little heart in the world, and she has been 
through so many troubles 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 she brought me to the Land of Oz. But now 
Ozma has made her a Princess, and Dorothy's Aunt Em and 
Uncle Henry are here, too." Here the Shaggy Man uttered 


Chapter Fourteen 

a long sigh, and then he continued: . "It's a queer country, 
this Land 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?" she inquired. 

"None with the same gorgeous, variegated beauty," he con- 
fessed. "In America a girl stuffed with cotton wouldn't be 
alive, nor would anyone think of making a girl out of a patch- 
work quilt." 

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

"I know; and perhaps you are from a scarecrow point 
of view," replied the Shaggy Man; but why he smiled as he 
said it Scraps could not imagine. 

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

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

He was walking ahead, with Scraps, and behind them came 
the Woozy and the Glass Cat. Ojo had lagged behind, for 
in spite of the warnings he had received the boy's eyes were 
fastened on the clover that bordered the road of yellow bricks 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 


and he was eager to discover if such a thing as a six-leaved 
clover really existed. 

Suddenly he stopped short and bent over to examine the 
ground more closely. Yes; here at last was a clover with six 
spreading leaves. He counted them carefully, to make sure. 
In an instant his heart leaped with joy, for this was one of the 
important things he had come for one of 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 


Chapter Fourteen 

was midway between two houses. The temptation was too 
strong to be resisted. 

" I might search for weeks and weeks, and never find another 
six-leaved clover," he told himself, and quickly plucking the 
stem from the plant he placed the prized clover in his basket, 
covering it with the other things he carried there. Then, try- 
ing to look as if nothing had happened, he hurried forward 
and overtook his comrades. 

The Emerald City, which is the most splendid as well as 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

the most beautiful city in any fairyland, is surrounded by a 
hjgh, thick wall of green marble, polished smooth and set with 
glistening emeralds. There are four gates, one facing the 
Munchkin Country, one facing the Country of the Winkies, 
one facing the Country of the Quadlings and one facing the 
Country of the Gillikins. The Emerald City lies directly in 
the center of these four important countries of Oz. The gates 
had bars of pure gold, and on either side of each gateway were 
built high towers, from which floated gay banners. Other 
towers were set at distances along the walls, which were broad 
enough for four people to walk abreast upon. 

This enclosure, all green and gold and glittering with 
precious gems, was indeed a wonderful sight to greet our trav- 
elers, who first observed it from the top of a little hill; but 
beyond the wall was the vast city it surrounded, and hundreds 
of jeweled spires, domes and minarets, flaunting flags and ban- 
ners, reared their crests far above the towers of the gateways. 
In the center of the city our friends could see the tops of many 
magnificent trees, some nearly as tall as the spires of the build- 
ings, and the Shaggy Man told them that these trees were in 
the royal gardens of Princess Ozma. 

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

'Whee!" exclaimed Scraps, clasping her padded hands in 
ecstacy, "that'll do for me to live in, all right. No more of 


Chapter Fourteen 

the Munchkin Country for these patches and no more of the 
Crooked Magician ! ' 

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

"Bother Dr. Pipt! If he wants me, let him come here and 
get me. I'll not go back to his den of my own accord; that's 
certain. Only one place in the Land of Oz is fit to live in, and 
that 's the Emerald City. It's lovely! It's almost as beautiful 
as I am, Ojo." 

"In this country," remarked the Shaggy Man, "people live 
wherever our Ruler tells them to. It wouldn't do to have 
everyone live in the Emerald City, you know, for some must 
plow the land and raise grains and fruits and vegetables, while 
others chop wood in the forests, or fish in the rivers, or herd 
the sheep and the cattle. 

Poor things!' said Scraps. 

I'm not sure they are not happier than the city people, 
replied the Shaggy Man. -"There's a freedom and indepen- 
dence in country life that not even the Emerald City can give 
one. I know that lots of the city people would like to get back 
to the land. The Scarecrow lives in the country, and so do the 
Tin Woodman and Jack Pumpkinhead ; yet all three would be 
welcome to live in Ozma's palace if they cared to. Too much 
splendor becomes tiresome, you know. But, if we're to reach 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

the Emerald City 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 and they hurried forward with lighter steps than 
before. There was much to interest them along the roadway, 
for the houses were now set more closely together and they 
met a good many people who were coming or going from one 
place or another. All these seemed happy-faced, pleasant 
people, who nodded graciously to the strangers as they passed, 
and exchanged words of greeting. 

At last they reached the great gateway, just as the sun was 
setting and adding its red glow to the glitter of the emeralds 
on the green walls arid spires. Somewhere inside the city a 
band could be heard playing sweet music; a soft, subdued hum, 
as of many voices, reached their ears; from the neighboring 
yards came the low mooing of cows waiting to be milked. 

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

:< Halt!" said the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, not in 
a stern voice but rather in a friendly tone. 


Chapter Fourteen 

They halted before he spoke and stood looking at him. 

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

"Billina has hatched out thirteen new chickens," replied the 
Soldier with the Green Whiskers, "and they're the cutest little 
fluffy yellow balls you ever saw. The Yellow Hen is mighty 
proud of those children, I can tell you." 

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

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

"It will give me pleasure to do that," said the Shaggy Man. 
"But you will observe that I have brought some strangers 
nome with me. I am going to take them to see Dorothy." 

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


"Why, that's me!" cried Ojo, astonished at hearing his 

name on the lips of 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?" 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

"I haven't looked to see," answered the soldier. Then he 
drew a paper from his breast pocket and glanced at it. 'Oh, 
yes; you are to be arrested for wilfully breaking one of the 
Laws of Oz." 

; ' Breaking a law ! " said Scraps. :< Nonsense, Soldier ; you're 

1 5> 


; 'Not this time," returned the soldier, with a sigh. "My dear 
child what are you, a rummage sale or a guess-me-quick'? 
in me you behold the Body-Guard of our gracious Ruler, Prin- 
cess Ozma, as well as the Royal Army of Oz and the Police 
Force of the Emerald City." 

'' And only one man! " exclaimed the Patchwork Girl. 
'Only one, and plenty enough. In my official positions 
I've had nothing to do for a good many years so long that 
I began to fear I was absolutely useless until to-day. An 

hour ago I was called to the presence of her 
Highness, Ozma of Oz, and told to arrest a 
boy named Ojo the Unlucky, who was jour- 
neying from the Munchkin Country to the 
Emerald City and would arrive in a short time. 
This command so astonished me that I nearly 
fainted, for it is the first time anyone has mer- 
ited arrest since I can remembero You are 
rightly named Ojo the Unlucky, my poor boy, 
since you have broken a Law of Oz." 

Chapter Fourteen 

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

"Then he will 
soon be free again," 
replied the Soldier 
with the Green 
Whiskers. "Anyone 
accused of crime is 
given a fair trial by 
our Ruler and has 
every chance to prove 
his innocence. But 
just now Ozma's or- 
ders mustbe obeyed." 

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



THE boy was so bewil- 
dered by this calamity that 
he made no resistance at all. 
He knew very well he was 
guilty, but it surprised him 
that Ozma also knew it. He 
wondered how she had 
found out so soon that he 
had picked the six-leaved 
clover. He handed his 
basket to Scraps and said: 

"Keep that, until I get 
out of prison. If I never 
get out, take it to the 
Crooked Magician, to whom 
it belongs." 

The Shaggy Man had 
been gazing earnestly in 
the boy's face, uncertain 
whether to defend him or 
not; but something he read 
in Ojo's expression made 
him draw back and refuse 
to interfere to save him. 
The Shaggy Man was 
greatly surprised and 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

grieved, but he knew that Ozma never made mistakes and so 
Ojo must really have broken the Law of Oz. 

The Soldier with the Green Whiskers now led them all 
through the gate and 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 chain to which a number of great golden 
keys were attached. This was the Guardian of the Gate and at 
the moment they entered his room he was playing a tune upon 
a mouth-organ. 

'Listen!" he said, holding up his hand for silence. : 'I've 
just composed a tune called 'The Speckled Alligator.' It's 
in patch-time, which is much superior to rag-time, and I've 
composed it in honor of the Patchwork Girl, who has just 

: 'How did you know I had arrived?" asked Scraps, much 

: 'It's my business to know who's coming, for I'm the Guar- 
dian of the Gate. Keep quiet while I play you ' The Speckled 
Alligator.' " 

It wasn't a very bad tune, nor a very good one, but all 
listened respectfully while he shut his eyes and swayed his 
head from side to side and blew the notes from the little in- 
strument. When it was all over the Soldier with the Green 
Whiskers said: 

"Guardian, I have here a prisoner." 

"Good gracious! A prisoner?" cried the little man, jump- 


Chapter Fifteen 

ing up from his chair. 'Which one*? Not the Shaggy Man?' 

"No; this boy." 

"Ah; I hope his fault is as small as himself," said the Guar- 
dian of the Gate. 'But what can he have done, and what 
made him do it?' 

"Can't say," replied the soldier. ; ' All I know is that he has 
broken the Law." 

"But no one ever does that!' 

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

The Guardian unlocked a closet and took from it a white 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

robe, which the soldier threw over Ojo. It covered him from 
head to foot, but had two holes just in front of his eyes, so he 
could see where to go. In this attire the boy presented a very 
quaint appearance. 

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

' I think I shall take you directly to Dorothy, as the Scare- 
crow advised, and the Glass Cat and the Woozy may come with 
us. Ojo must go to prison with the Soldier with the Green 
Whiskers, but he will be well treated and you need not worry 
about him." 

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

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

'Seems to me that girl Ruler of yours is making a big fuss 
over nothing," remarked Scraps, tossing her yarn hair out of 
her eyes with a jerk of her patched head. 'I don't know what 
Ojo has done, but it couldn't be anything very bad, for you 
and I were with him all the time." 

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

They soon separated from the Munchkin boy, who was led by 
the Soldier with the Green Whiskers down a side street toward 
the prison. Ojo felt very miserable and greatly ashamed 


Chapter Fifteen 

of himself, but he was beginning to grow angry because he was 
treated in such a disgraceful manner. Instead of entering the 
splendid Emerald City as a respectable traveler who was 
entitled to a welcome and to hospitality, he was being brought 
in as a criminal, handcuffed and in a robe that told all he met 
of his deep disgrace. 

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

The little Munchkin boy was so busy thinking these things 
which many guilty prisoners have thought before him that 
he scarcely noticed all the splendor of the city streets through 
which they passed. Whenever they met any of the happy, smil- 
ing people, the boy turned his head away in shame, although 
none knew who was beneath the robe. 

The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

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 painted and with many windows. Before it was a gar- 
den filled with blooming flowers. The Soldier with the Green 
Whiskers led Ojo up the gravel path to the front door, on which 
he knocked. 

A woman opened the door and, seeing Ojo in his white robe, 
exclaimed : 

: ' Goodness me ! A prisoner at last. But what a small one, 

' The size doesn't matter, Tollydiggle, my dear. The fact 
remains that he is a prisoner," said the soldier. "And, this 
being the prison, and you the jailer, it is my duty to place the 
prisoner in your charge." 

' True. Come in, then, and I '11 give you a receipt for him." 

They entered the house and passed through a hall to a large 
circular room, where the woman pulled the robe off from Ojo 
and looked at him with kindly interest. The boy, on his part, 
was gazing around him in amazement, for never had he dreamed 
of such a magnificent apartment as this in which he stood. The 
roof of the dome was of colored glass, worked into beautiful 
designs. The walls were paneled with plates of gold decorated 
with gems of great size and many colors, and upon the tiled 
floor were soft rugs delightful to walk upon. The furniture 
was framed in gold and upholstered in satin brocade and it 
consisted of easy chairs, divans and stools in great variety. 


Chapter Fifteen 

Also there were several tables with mirror tops and cabinets 
filled with rare and curious things. In one place a case filled 
with books stood against the wall, 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 your jailor. Take off those handcuffs, Soldier, for it ' 
is impossible for anyone to escape from this house." 

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

The woman touched a button on the wall and lighted a big 
chandelier that hung suspended from the ceiling, for it was 
growing dark outside. Then she seated herself at a desk and 
asked : 

"What name?" 

'Ojo the Unlucky," answered the Soldier with the Green 

'Unlucky? Ah, that accounts for it," said she. 'What 
crime?' 1 

:t Breaking a Law of Oz." 

"All right. There's your receipt, Soldier; and now I'm re- 
sponsible for the prisoner. I'm glad of it, for this is the first 
time I've ever had anything to do, in my official capacity," 
remarked the jailer, in a pleased tone. 

It's the same with me, Tollydiggle," laughed the soldier. 



The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

' But my task is finished and I must go and report to Ozma that 
I've done my duty like a faithful Police Force, a loyal Army 
and an honest Body-Guard as I hope I am." 

Saying this, he nodded farewell to Tollydiggle and Ojo and 
went away. 

'Now, then," said the woman briskly, "I must get you some 
supper, for you are doubtless hungry. What would you prefer: 
planked whitensh, omelet with jelly or mutton-chops with 

Ojo thought about it. Then he said: 'I'll take the chops, 
if you please." 

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

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

This amused him until the woman came in with a large tray 


Chapter Fifteen 

and spread a cloth on one of the tables. Then she arranged 
his supper, which proved the most varied and delicious meal 
Ojo had ever eaten in his life. 

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

"Is this really a prison?' he asked, when she had finished 


"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." 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Then why is the prison so fine, and why are you so kind 
to me?" he earnestly asked. 

Tollydiggle seemed surprised by the question, but she 
presently answered: 

'We consider a prisoner unfortunate. He is unfortunate 
in two ways because he has done something wrong and 
because he is deprived of his liberty. Therefore we should 
treat him kindly, because of his misfortune, for otherwise he 
would become hard and bitter and would not be sorry he had 
done wrong. Ozma thinks that one who has committed a fault 
did so because he was not strong and brave; therefore she puts 
him in prison to make him strong and brave. When that is 
accomplished he is no longer a prisoner, but a good and loyal 
citizen and everyone is glad that he is now strong enough to 
resist doing wrong. You see, it is kindness that makes one 
strong and brave; and so we are kind to our prisoners." 

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

"That would be dreadful ! " cried Tollydiggle. : ' Isn't one 
punished enough in knowing he has done wrong? Don't you 
wish, Ojo, with all your heart, that you had not been dis- 
obedient 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," said the woman. "When you are tried and found guilty, 


Chapter Fifteen 

you will be obliged to make 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 may be sure she will 
be just and merciful. Here in the Emerald City people are 
too happy and contented ever to do wrong; but perhaps you 
came from some faraway corner of our land, and having no love 
for Ozma carelessly broke one of her Laws." 

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

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


\) Iv, 1 11 1 


sitting in one of her rooms 
in the royal palace, while 
curled up at her feet was a 
little black dog with a 
shaggy coat and very bright 
eyes. She wore a plain 
white frock, without any 
jewels or other ornaments 
except an emerald-green 
hair-ribbon, for Dorothy 
was a simple little girl and 
had not been in the least 
spoiled by the magnificence 
surrounding her. Once the 
child had lived on the Kan- 
sas prairies, but she seemed 
marked for adventure, for 
she had made several trips 
to the Land of Oz before 
she came to live there for 
good. Her very best friend 
was the beautiful Ozma of 
Oz, who loved Dorothy so 
well that she kept her in 
her own palace, so as to be 203 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 


near her. The girl's Uncle Henry and Aunt Em the only 
relatives she had in the world had also been brought here by 
Ozma and given a pleasant home. Dorothy knew almost every- 
body in Oz, and it was she who had discovered the Scarecrow, 
the Tin Woodman and the Cowardly Lion, as well as Tik-tok 
the Clockwork Man. Her life was very pleasant now, and 
although she had been made a Princess of Oz by her friend 
Ozma she did not care much to be a Princess and remained as 
sweet as when she had been plain Dorothy Gale of Kansas. 

Dorothy was reading in a book this evening when Jellia 
Jamb, the favorite servant-maid of the palace, came to say that 
the Shaggy Man wanted to see her. 

"All right," said Dorothy; "tell him to come right up/' 

'But he has some queer creatures with him some of the 
queerest I've ever laid eyes on," reported Jellia. 

"Never mind; let 'em all come up," replied Dorothy. 

But when the door opened to admit not only the Shaggy 
Man, but Scraps, the Woozy and the Glass Cat, Dorothy 
jumped up and looked at her strange visitors in amazement. 
The Patchwork Girl was the most curious of all and Dorothy 
was uncertain at first whether Scraps was really alive or only 
a dream or a nightmare. Toto, her dog, slowly uncurled him- 
self and going to the Patchwork Girl sniffed at her inquiringly; 
but soon he lay down again, as if to say he had no interest in 
such an irregular creation. 

"You're a new one to me," Dorothy said reflectively, ad- 


Chapter Sixteen 

dressing the Patchwork Girl. 'I can't imagine where you've 
come from." 

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


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

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

'That's an easy job," said Scraps, sitting upon a big up- 
holstered chair and making the springs bounce her up and down. 
' Margolotte wanted a slave, so she made me out of an old bed- 
quilt she didn't use. Cotton stuffing, suspender-button eyes, 
red velvet tongue, pearl beads for teeth. The Crooked Ma- 
gician made a Powder of Life, sprinkled me with it and here 
I am. Perhaps you've noticed my different colors. A very 
refined and educated gentleman named the Scarecrow, whom 
I met, told me I am the most beautiful creature in all Oz, and 
I believe it." 

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

"Yes; isn't he jolly?" 

'The Scarecrow has many good qualities," replied Dorothy. 
"But I'm sorry to hear all this 'bout the Crooked Magician. 
Ozma '11 be mad as hops when she hears he 's been doing magic 
again. She told him not to." 

"He only practices magic for the benefit of his own family," 
explained Bungle, who was keeping at a respectful distance 
from the little black dog. 

"Dear me," 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 of some folks," answered the cat. "Also I have some 


Chapter Sixteen 

lovely pink brains; you can see 'em work." 

"Oh; is that so 4 ? 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 the world. Toto knows a good many things, too; 
'most as much as I do, I guess." 

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

; 'He can't talk, not being a fairy dog," explained Dorothy. 
'He's just a common 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's hand, which she held out to him, and he looked up 
into her face as if he had understood every word she had said. 

'This cat, Toto," she said to him, "is made of glass, so you 
mustn't bother it, or chase it, any more than you do my Pink 
Kitten. It's prob'ly brittle and might break if it bumped 
against anything." 

"Woof!' said Toto, and that meant he understood. 

The Glass Cat was so proud of her pink brains that she 
ventured to come close to Dorothy, in order that the girl might 
"see 'em work." This was really interesting, but when 
Dorothy patted the cat she found the glass cold and hard and 
unresponsive, so she decided at once that Bungle would never 
do for a pet. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

' What do you know about the Crooked Magician who lives 
on the mountain?' asked Dorothy. 

'He made me," replied the cat; "so I know all about him. 
The Patchwork Girl is new three or four days old but 
I've lived with Dr. Pipt for years; and, though I don't much 
care for him, I will say that he has always refused to work 
magic for any of the people who come to his house. He thinks 
there's no harm in doing magic things for his own family, and 
he made me out of glass because the meat cats drink too much 
milk. He also made Scraps come to life so she could do the 
housework for his wife Margolotte." 

'Then why did you both leave him?" asked Dorothy. 

'I think you'd better let me explain that," interrupted the 
Shaggy Man, and then he told Dorothy all of Ojo's story, and 
how Unc Nunkie and Margolotte had accidentally been turned 
to marble by the Liquid of Petrifaction. Then he related how 
the boy had started out in search of the things needed to make 
the magic charm, which would restore the unfortunates to life, 
and how he had found the Woozy and taken him along because 
he could not pull the three hairs out of its tail. Dorothy 
listened to all this with much interest, and thought that so far 
Ojo had acted very well. But when the Shaggy Man told her 
of the Munchkin boy's arrest by the Soldier with the Green 
Whiskers, because he was accused of wilfully breaking a Law 
of Oz, the little girl was greatly shocked. 

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


Chapter Sixteen 

'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 was against the Law; but perhaps that is what 
he did, nevertheless." 

"I'm sorry 'bout that," said Dorothy gravely, 'for now 
there will be no one to help his poor uncle and Margolotte 
5 cept this Patchwork Girl, the Woozy and the Glass Cat." 

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

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

" I 'm glad she did," retorted the Patchwork Girl. " A heart 
must be a great annoyance to one. It makes a person feel sad 
or sorry or devoted or sympathetic all of which sensations 
interfere with one's happiness." 

"I rrtave a heart," murmured the Glass Cat. "It's made of 
a ruby; but I don't imagine I shall let it bother me about 
helping Unc Nunkie and Margolotte." 

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

"Why, as for me," observed the Woozy, who was reclining 
on the floor with his legs doubled under him, so that he looked 
much like a square box, " I have never seen those unfortunate 
people you are speaking of, and yet I am sorry for them, hav- 
ing at times been unfortunate myself. When I was shut up 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 


in that forest I longed for some one to help me, and by and by 
Ojo came and did help me. So I'm willing to help his uncle. 
I'm only a stupid beast, Dorothy, but I can't help that, and if 
you'll tell 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 

You're not pretty," she said, "but I like you. What are 
you able to do; anything 'special 4 ?' 

'I can make my eyes flash fire- -real fire when I'm 
angry. When anyone says: ' Krizzle-Kroo ' to me I get angry, 
and then my eyes flash fire." 

: 'I don't see as fireworks could help Ojo's uncle," remarked 
Dorothy. :< Can you do anything else 4 ?' 

'I I thought I had a very terrifying growl," said the 
Woozy, with hesitation; "but perhaps I was mistaken." 

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

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

While they were talking Scraps had been roaming around 
the room and looking at all the pretty things it contained. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

She had carried Ojo's basket in her hand, until now, when she 
decided to see what was inside it. She found the bread and 
cheese, which she had no use for, and the bundle of charms, 
which were curious but quite a mystery to her. Then, turning 
these over, she came upon the six-leaved clover which the boy 
had plucked. 

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

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

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

'They'll have to prove him guilty, won't they?' asked 

C 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 


Chapter Sixteen 



she did every evening, she rang for a servant and ordered the 
Woozy taken to a nice room and given plenty of such food as 
he liked best. 

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

You can't 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 for the night and the Patchwork Girl 
she kept in one of her own rooms, for she was much interested 
in the strange creature and wanted to talk with her again and 
try to understand her better. 



THE Shaggy Man had a 
room of his own in the 
royal palace, so there he 
went to change his shaggy 
suit of clothes for another 
just as shaggy but not so 
dusty from travel. He 
selected a costume of pea- 
green and pink satin and 
velvet, with embroidered 
shags on all the edges and 
iridescent pearls for orna- 
ments. Then he bathed in 
an alabaster pool and 
brushed his shaggy hair and 
whiskers the wrong way to 
make them still more 
shaggy. This accomplished, 
and arrayed in his splen- 
did shaggy garments, he 
went to Ozma's banquet 
hall and found the Scare- 
crow, the Wizard and 
Dorothy already assembled 
there. The Scarecrow had 
made a quick trip and re- 215 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

turned to the Emerald City with his left ear freshly painted. 

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

Much has been told and written concerning the beauty of 
person and character of this sweet girl Ruler of the Land of 
Oz the richest, the happiest and most delightful fairyland 
of which we have any knowledge. Yet with all her queenly 
qualities Ozma was a real girl and enjoyed the things in life 
that other real girls enjoy. When she sat on her splendid 
emerald throne in the great Throne Room of her palace and 
made laws and settled disputes and tried to keep all her sub- 
jects happy and contented, she was as dignified and demure 
as any queen might be; but when she had thrown aside her 
jeweled robe of state and her sceptre, and had retired to her 
private apartments, the girl joyous, light-hearted and free 
replaced the sedate Ruler. 

In the banquet hall to-night were gathered only old and 
trusted friends, so here Ozma was herself a mere girl. She 
greeted Dorothy with a kiss, the Shaggy Man with a smile, the 
little old Wizard with a friendly handshake and then she 
pressed the Scarecrow's stuffed arm and cried merrily: 

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

"I'm glad you like it," replied the Scarecrow, well pleased. 
"Jinjur did a neat job, didn't she 4 ? And my hearing is now 


Chapter Seventeen 

perfect. Isn't it wonderful what a little paint will do, if it's 
properly applied?' 

'It really is wonderful," she agreed, as they all took their 
seats; "but the Sawhorse must have made his legs twinkle to 
have carried you so far in one day. I didn't expect you back 
before to-morrow, at the earliest." 

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

Ozma laughed. 

"I know," she returned; : 'it's the Patchwork Girl. She 
is certainly bewildering, 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 the Land 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, must have selected the gayest and 
brightest bits of cloth that ever were woven." 

"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, he often dined with Ozma and her companions, 
merely for the pleasure of talking with them. He sat at the 
table and had a napkin and plate, but the servants knew better 
than to offer him food. After a little while he asked: "Where 
is the Patchwork Girl now?' 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

i . 

In my room," replied Dorothy. 'I've taken a fancy to 

her; she's so queer and and uncommon." 

:< She's half crazy, I think," added the Shaggy Man. 
"But she is so beautiful!' exclaimed the Scarecrow, as if 
that fact disarmed all criticism. They all laughed at his 
enthusiasm, but the Scarecrow was quite serious. Seeing that 
he was interested in Scraps they forbore to say anything against 
her. The little band of friends Ozma had gathered around 
her was so quaintly assorted 
that much care must be exer- 
cised to avoid hurting their 
feelings or making any one of 
them unhappy. It was this 
considerate kindness that held 
them close friends and en- 
abled them to enjoy one an- 
other's society. 

Another thing they 
avoided was conversing on 
unpleasant subjects, and for 
that reason Ojo and his trou- 
bles were not mentioned dur- 
ing the dinner. The Shaggy 
Man, however, related his 
adventures with the mon- 
strous plants which had 

Chapter Seventeen 

seized and enfolded the travelers, and told how he had robbed 
Chiss, the giant porcupine, of the quills which it was accus- 
tomed to throw at people. Both Dorothy and Ozma were 
pleased with this exploit and thought it served Chiss right. 

Then they talked of the Woozy, which was the most re- 
markable animal any of them had ever before seen except, 
perhaps, the live Sawhorse. Ozma had never known that her 
dominions contained such a thing as a Woozy, there being but 
one in existence and this being confined in his forest for 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 the Glass Cat. 

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

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

"That Powder of Life which is made by the Crooked Ma- 
gician is really a wonderful thing. But Dr. Pipt does not know 
its true value and he uses it in the most foolish ways." 

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

"I've never heard that story," said the Shaggy Man, look- 
ing at Ozma questioningly. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Well, when I was a baby girl I was stolen by an old Witch 
named Mombi and transformed into a boy," began the girl 
Ruler. ;< I did not know who I was and when I grew big enough 
to work, the Witch made me wait upon her and carry wood for 
the fire and hoe in the garden. One day she came back from a 
journey bringing some of the Powder of Life, which Dr. Pipt 
had given her. I had made a pumpkin-headed man and set it 
up in her path to frighten her, for I was fond of fun and hated 
the Witch. But she knew what the figure was and to test her 
Powder of Life she sprinkled some of it on the man I had made. 
It came to life and is now our dear friend Jack Pumpkinhead. 
That night I ran away with Jack to escape punishment, and I 
took old Mombi 's Powder of Life with me. During our jour- 
ney we came upon a wooden Sawhorse standing by the road 
and I used the magic powder to bring it to life. The Saw- 
horse has been with 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 I became the rightful Ruler of 
this land. So you see had not old Mombi brought home the 
Powder of Life I might never have run away from her and be- 
come Ozma of Oz, nor would we have had Jack Pumpkinhead 
and the Sawhorse 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 all went to Ozma's drawing-room, where 
they passed a pleasant evening before it came time to retire. 


THE next morning the 
Soldier with the Green 
Whiskers went to the pri- 
son and took Ojo away to 
the royal palace, where he 
was summoned to appear 
before the girl Ruler for 
judgment. Again the sol- 
dier put upon the boy the 
jeweled handcuffs and 
white prisoner's robe with 
the peaked top and holes 
for the eyes. Ojo was so 
ashamed, both of his dis- 
grace and the fault he had 
committed, that he was 
glad to be covered up in 
this way, so that people 
could not see him or know 
who he was. He followed 
the Soldier with the Green 
Whiskers very willingly, 
anxious that his fate might 
be decided as soon as pos- 

The inhabitants of the 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Emerald City were polite people and never jeered at the un- 
fortunate; but it was so long since they had seen a prisoner 
that they cast many curious looks toward the boy and many 
of them hurried away to the royal palace to be present during 
the trial. 

When Ojo was escorted into the great Throne Room of the 
palace he found hundreds of people assembled there. In the 
magnificent emerald throne, which sparkled with countless jew- 
els, sat Ozma of Oz in her Robe of State, which was embroidered 
with emeralds and pearls. On her right, but a little lower, was 
Dorothy, and on her left the Scarecrow. Still lower, but nearly 
in front of Ozma, sat the wonderful Wizard of Oz and on 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 most powerful of its kind. Although these beasts 
were quite free, no one present was alarmed by them; for the 
Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger were well known and 
respected in the Emerald City and they always guarded the 
Ruler when she held high court in the Throne Room. There 
was still another beast present, but this one Dorothy held in 
her arms, for it was her constant companion, the little dog Toto. 
Toto knew the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger and 
often played and romped with them, for they were good friends. 

Seated on ivory chairs before Ozma, with a clear space be- 
tween them and the throne, were many of the nobility of the 


Chapter Eighteen 

Emerald City, lords and ladies in beautiful costumes, and of- 
ficials of the kingdom in the royal uniforms of Oz. Behind 
these courtiers were others of less importance, filling the great 
hall to the very doors. 

At the same moment that the Soldier with the Green Whisk- 
ers arrived with Ojo, the Shaggy Man entered from a side door, 
escorting the Patchwork Girl, the Woozy and the Glass Cat. 
All these came to the vacant space before the throne and stood 
facing the Ruler. 

: ' Hullo, Ojo," said Scraps; "how are you?' 

"All right," he replied; but the scene awed the boy and 
his voice trembled a little with fear. Nothing could awe the 
Patchwork Girl, and although the Woozy was somewhat un- 
easy in these splendid surroundings the Glass Cat was delighted 
with the sumptuousness of the court and the impressiveness of 
the occasion pretty big words but quite expressive. 

At a sign from Ozma the soldier removed Ojo's white robe 
and the boy stood face to face with the girl who was to decide 
his punishment. He saw at a glance how lovely and sweet she 
was, and his heart gave a bound 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. You are accused of having broken this Law, even after 
you had been warned not to do so." 






The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

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

'' All this fuss is about nothing at all," she said, facing Ozma 
unabashed. 'You can't prove he picked the six-leaved clover, 
so you've no right to accuse him of it. Search him, if you like, 
but you won't find the clover; look in his basket and you'll find 
it's not there. He hasn't got it, so I demand that you set this 
poor Munchkin boy free." 

The people of Oz listened to this defiance in amazement 
and wondered at the queer Patchwork Girl who dared talk so 
boldly to their Ruler. But Ozma sat silent and motionless and 
it was the little Wizard who answered Scraps. 

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

From the mouth of the vase a plant sprouted, slowly grow- 
ing before their eyes until it became a beautiful bush, and on 
the topmost branch appeared the six-leaved clover which Ojo 
had unfortunately picked. 


Chapter Eighteen 

The Patchwork Girl looked at the clover and said: "Oh, 
so you've found it. 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 save Unc Nunkie and I was afraid if I asked your 
consent to pick it you would refuse me." 

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

'Why, it seemed to me a foolish law, unjust and unreason- 
able. Even now I can see no harm in picking a six-leaved 
clover. And I I had not seen the Emerald City, then, nor 
you, and I thought a girl who would make such a silly Law 
would not be likely to help anyone in trouble." 

Ozma regarded him musingly, her chin resting upon her 
hand; but she was not angry. On the contrary she smiled a 
little at her thoughts and then grew sober again. 

'I suppose a good many laws seem foolish to those people 
who do not understand them," she said; 'but no law is ever 
made without some purpose, and that purpose is usually to pro- 
tect all the people and guard their welfare. As you are a 
stranger, I will explain this Law which to you seems so foolish. 
Years ago there were many Witches and Magicians in the Land 
of Oz, and one of the things they often used in making 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, 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

that I decided to forbid anyone to practice magic or sorcery ex- 
cept Glinda the Good and her assistant, the Wizard of Oz, both 
of whom I can trust to use their arts only to benefit my people 
and to make them happier. Since I issued that Law the Land 
of Oz has been far more peaceful and quiet; but I learned that 
some of the Witches and Magicians were still practicing magic 
on the sly and using the six-leaved clovers to make their potions 
and charms. Therefore I made another Law forbidding any- 
one from plucking a six-leaved clover or from gathering other 
plants and herbs which the Witches boil in their kettles to work 
magic with. That has almost put an end to wicked sorcery in 
our land, so you see the Law was not a foolish one, but wise and 
just; and, in any event, it is wrong to disobey a Law." 

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

'I am sorry I have acted wrongly and broken your Law. I 
did it to save Unc Nunkie, and thought I would not be found 
out. But I am guilty of this act and whatever punishment 
you think I deserve I will suffer willingly." 

Ozma smiled more brightly, then, and nodded graciously. 

: You are forgiven," she said. "For, although you have 
committed a serious fault, you are now penitent and I think you 
have been punished enough. Soldier, release Ojo the Lucky 

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


Chapter Eighteen 

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

The people were glad to hear Ozma's decree and murmured 
their approval. As the royal audience was now over, they be- 
gan to leave the Throne Room and soon there were none re- 
maining except Ojo and his friends and Ozma and her favorites. 

The girl Ruler now asked Ojo to sit down and tell her all 
his story, which he did, beginning at the time he had left his 
home in the forest and ending with his arrival at the Emerald 
City and his arrest. Ozma listened attentively and was 
thoughtful for some moments after the boy had finished speak- 
ing. Then she said: 

" The Crooked Magician was wrong to make the Glass Cat 
and the Patchwork Girl, for it was against the Law. And if he 
had not unlawfully kept the bottle of Liquid of Petrifaction 
standing on his shelf, the accident to his wife Margolotte and 
to Unc Nunkie could not have occurred. I can understand, 
however, that Ojo, who loves his uncle, will be unhappy un- 
less he can save him. Also I feel it is wrong to leave those two 
victims standing as marble statues, when they ought to be alive. 
So I propose we allow Dr. Pipt to make the magic charm which 
will save them, and that we assist Ojo to find the things he is 
seeking. What do you think, Wizard*?' 

"That is perhaps the best thing to do," replied the Wizard. 
" But after the Crooked Magician has restored those poor people 
to life you must take away his magic powers." 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'I will," promised Ozma. 

'Now tell me, please, what magic things must you find?' 
continued the Wizard, addressing Ojo. 

: The three hairs from the Woozy's tail I have," said the 
boy. l That is, I have the Woozy, and the hairs are in his tail. 
The six-leaved clover I I " 

You may take it and keep it," said Ozma. : That will 
not be breaking the Law, for it is already picked, and the crime 
of picking it is forgiven." 

Thank you!" cried Ojo gratefully. Then he continued: 
The next thing I must find is a gill of water from a dark well." 
The Wizard shook his head. : That," said he, 'will be a 
hard task, but if you travel far enough you may discover it." 

'I am willing to travel for years, if it will save Unc Nun- 
kie," declared Ojo, earnestly. 

'Then you'd better begin your journey at once," advised 
the Wizard. 

Dorothy had been listening with interest to this conversa- 
tion. Now she turned 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 sorry for his uncle and poor Margolotte and I'd like 
to help save them. May I go?' 

If you wish to," replied Ozma. 

If Dorothy goes, then I must go to take care of her," said 




Chapter Eighteen 

the Scarecrow, decidedly. : ' A dark well can only be discovered 
in some out-of-the-way place, and there may be dangers there." 
'You have my permission to accompany Dorothy," said 
Ozma. : ' And while you are gone I will take care of the Patch- 
work Girl." 

"I'll take care of myself," announced Scraps, "for I'm go- 
ing with the Scarecrow and Dorothy. I promised Ojo to help 
him find the things he wants and I'll stick to my promise." 

'Very well," replied Ozma. 'But I see no need for Ojo 
to take the Glass Cat and the Woozy." 

'I prefer to remain here," said the cat. 'I've nearly been 
nicked half a dozen times, already, and if they're going into 
dangers it's best for me to keep away from them." 

: 'Let Jellia Jamb keep her till Ojo returns," suggested Dor- 
othy. 'We won't need to take the Woozy, either, but he ought 
to be saved because of the three hairs in his tail." 

'Better take me along," said the Woozy. 'My eyes can 
flash fire, you know, and I can growl a little." 

"I'm sure you'll be safer here," Ozma decided, and the 
Woozy made no further objection to the plan. 

After consulting together they decided that Ojo and his 
party should leave the very next day to search for the gill of 
water from a dark well, so they now separated to make prep- 
arations for the journey. 

Ozma gave the Munchkin boy a room in the palace for that 
night and the afternoon he passed with Dorothy getting ac- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

quainted, as she said- -and receiving advice from the Shaggy 
Man as to where they must go. The Shaggy Man had wan- 
dered in many parts of Oz, and so had Dorothy, for that mat- 
ter, 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 of the country, no one there would need a dark 
well. P'raps there isn't such a thing." 

'Oh, there must be! " returned Ojo, positively; "or else the 
recipe of Dr. Pipt wouldn't call for it." 

'That's true," agreed Dorothy; "and, if it's anywhere in 
the Land of Oz, we 're bound to find it." 

'Well, we're bound to search for it, anyhow," said the 
Scarecrow. :< As for finding it, we must trust to luck." 

"Don't do that," begged Ojo, earnestly. "I'm called Ojo 
the Unlucky, you know." 



A DAY'S journey from the 
Emerald City brought the 
little band of adventurers 
to the home of Jack Pump- 
kinhead, which was a house 
formed from the shell of 
an immense pumpkin. 
Jack had made it himself 
and was very proud of it. 
There was a door, ?nd sev- 
eral windows, and through 
the top was stuck a stove- 
pipe that led from a small 
stove inside. The door 
was reached by a flight of 
three steps and there was a 
good floor on which was 
arranged some furniture 
that was quite comfortable. 
It is certain that Jack 
Pumpkinhead might have 
had a much liner house to 
live in had he wanted it, 
for Ozma loved the stupid 
fellow, who had been her 
earliest companion ; but 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Jack preferred his pumpkin house, as it matched himself very 
well, and in this he was not so stupid, after all. 

The body of this remarkable person was made of wood, 
branches of trees of various sizes having been used for the 
purpose. This wooden framework was covered by a red shirt 
with white spots in it blue trousers, a yellow vest, a jacket 
of green-and-gold and stout leather shoes. The neck was a 
sharpened stick on which the pumpkin head was set, and the 
eyes, ears, nose and mouth were carved on the skin of the pump- 
kin, very like a child's jack-o'-lantern. 

The house of this interesting creation stood in the center of 
a vast pumpkin-field, where the vines grew in profusion and 


Chapter Nineteen 

bore pumpkins of extraordinary size as well as those which 
were smaller. Some of the pumpkins now ripening on the 
vines were almost as large as Jack's house, and he told Dorothy 
he intended to add another pumpkin to his mansion. 

The travelers were cordially welcomed to this quaint domi- 
cile and invited to pass the night there, which they had planned 
to do. The Patchwork Girl was greatly interested in Jack and 
examined him admiringly. 

: You are quite handsome," she said; 'but not as really 
beautiful as the Scarecrow." 

Jack turned, at this, to examine the Scarecrow critically, and 
his old friend slyly winked one painted eye at him. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

" There is no accounting for tastes," remarked the Pumpkin- 
head, with a sigh. : 'An old crow once told me I was very 
fascinating, but of course the bird might have been mistaken. 
Yet I have noticed that the crows usually avoid the Scarecrow, 
who is a very honest fellow, in his way, but stuffed. I am not 
stuffed, you will observe; my body is good solid hickory." 

'I adore stuffing," said the Patchwork Girl. 

1 Well, as for that, my head is stuffed with pumpkin-seeds," 
declared Jack. 'I use them for brains, and when they are 
fresh I am intellectual. 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 time they spoil. That is why I grow such a great 
field of pumpkins that I may select a new head whenever 

'Who carves the faces on them?" inquired the boy. 

' I do that myself. I lift off my old head, place it on a table 
before me, and use the face for a pattern to go by. Sometimes 
the faces I carve are better than others more expressive and 
cheerful, you know but I think they average very well." 

Before she had started on the journey Dorothy had packed 
a knapsack with the things she might need, and this knapsack 
the Scarecrow carried strapped to his back. The little girl wore 
a plain gingham dress and a checked sunbonnet, as she knew 
they were best fitted for travel. Ojo also had brought along his 


Chapter Nineteen 

basket, to which Ozma had added a bottle of "Square Meal 
Tablets " and some fruit. But Jack Pumpkinhead grew a lot of 
things in his garden besides pumpkins, so he cooked for them a 
fine vegetable soup and gave Dorothy, Ojo and Toto, the only 
ones who found it necessary to eat, a pumpkin pie and some 
green cheese. For beds they must use the sweet dried grasses 
which Jack had strewn along one side of the room, but that 
satisfied Dorothy and Ojo very well. Toto, of course, slept 
beside his little mistress. 

The Scarecrow, Scraps and the Pumpkinhead were tireless 
and had no need to sleep, so they sat up and talked together 
all night; but they stayed outside the house, under the bright 
stars, and talked in low tones so as not to disturb the sleepers. 
During the conversation the Scarecrow explained their quest 
for a dark well, and asked Jack's advice where to find it. 

The Pumpkinhead considered the matter gravely. 
'That is going to be a difficult task," said he, 'and if I 
were you I'd take any ordinary well and enclose it, so as to 
make it dark." 

'I fear that wouldn't do," replied the Scarecrow. 'The 
well must be naturally dark, and the water must never have 
seen the light of day, for otherwise the magic charm might not 
work at all." 

"How much of the water do you need?" asked Jack. 
A gill." 
How much is a gill? ' 



The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'Why- -a gill is a gill, of course," answered the Scarecrow, 
who did not wish 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 kinds of gills, I think; one is a girl, and the other is " 

"A gillyflower," said Jack. 

: 'No; a measure." 

: 'How big a measure?' 

"Well, I'll ask Dorothy." 

So next morning they asked Dorothy, and she said : 

: 'I don't just know how much a gill is, but I've brought 
along a gold flask that holds a pint. That 's more than a gill, 
I'm sure, and the Crooked Magician may measure it to suit 
himself. But the thing that's bothering us most, Jack, is to 
find the well." 

Jack gazed around the landscape, for he was standing in 
the doorway of his house. 

: This is a flat country, so you won't find any dark wells 
here," said he. 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," re- 
plied the Scarecrow. 'I've known all along that we must go 
to the mountains." 

"So have I," said Dorothy. 


Chapter Nineteen 

: 'But goodness me! the Quadling Country is full of 
dangers," declared Jack. 'I've never been there myself, 

'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 the Fighting Trees, which bend down their 
branches to pound and whip you, and had many other ad- 
ventures there." 

"It's a wild country," remarked Dorothy, soberly, "and 
if we go there we '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 and rocks and caverns and forests of great trees 
abounded. This part of the Land of Oz, while it belonged to 
Ozma and owed her allegiance, was so wild and secluded that 
many queer peoples hid in its jungles and lived in their own 
way, without even a knowledge that they had a Ruler in the 
Emerald City. If they were left alone, these creatures never 
troubled the inhabitants of the rest of Oz, but those who in- 
vaded their domains encountered many dangers from them. 

It was a two days' journey from Jack Pumpkinhead's house 
to the edge of the Quadling Country, for neither Dorothy nor 
Ojo could walk very fast and they often stopped by the way- 
side to rest. The first night they slept on the broad fields, 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

among the buttercups and daisies, and the Scarecrow covered 
the children with a gauze blanket taken from his knapsack, so 
they would not be chilled by the night air. Toward evening 
of the second day they reached a sandy plain where walking 
was difficult; but some distance before them they saw a group 
of palm trees, with many curious black dots under them; so they 
trudged bravely on to reach that place by dark and spend the 
night under the shelter of the trees. 

. The black dots grew larger as they advanced and although 
the light was dim Dorothy thought they looked like big kettles 
turned upside down. Just beyond this place a jumble of huge, 
jagged rocks lay scattered, rising to the mountains behind them. 


Chapter Nineteen 

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 the plains. 

Twilight had fallen by the time they came to the trees, 
beneath which were the black, circular objects they had marked 
from a distance. Dozens of them were scattered around and 
Dorothy bent near to one, which was about as tall as she was, 
to examine it more closely. As she did so the top flew open 
and out popped a dusky creature, rising its length into the air 
and then plumping down upon the ground just beside the little 
girl. Another and another popped out of the circular, pot-like 
dwelling, while from all the other black objects came popping 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

more creatures very like jumping-jacks when their boxes are 
unhooked- -until fully a hundred stood gathered around our 
little group of travelers. 

By this time Dorothy had discovered they were people, tiny 
and curiously formed, but still people. Their skins were dusky 
and their hair stood straight up, like wires, and was brilliant 
scarlet in color. Their bodies were bare except for skins 
fastened around their waists and they wore bracelets on their 
ankles and wrists, and necklaces, and great pendant earrings. 

Toto crouched beside his mistress and wailed as if he did 
not like these strange creatures a bit. Scraps began to mutter 
something about "hoppity, poppity, jumpity, dump!' but no 
one paid any attention to her. Ojo kept close to the Scarecrow 
and the Scarecrow kept close to Dorothy; but the little girl 
turned to the queer creatures and asked: 

"Who are you?" 

They answered this question all together, in a sort of chant- 
ing 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, 


Chapter Nineteen 

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 '11 do no harm to you." 

: 'Glad to meet you, Tottenhots," said the Scarecrow sol- 
emly. "But you mustn't expect us to play with you all night, 
for we've traveled all day and some of us are tired." 

"And we never gamble," added the Patchwork Girl. "It's 
against the Law." 

These remarks were greeted with shouts of laughter by the 
impish creatures and one seized the Scarecrow's arm and was 
astonished to find the straw man whirl around so easily. So 
the Tottenhot raised the Scarecrow high in the air and tossed 
him over the heads of the crowd. Some one caught him and 
tossed him back, and so with shouts of glee they continued 
throwing the Scarecrow here and there, as if he had been a 

Presently another imp seized Scraps and began to throw her 
about, in the same way. They found her a little heavier than 
the Scarecrow but still light enough to be tossed like a sofa- 
cushion, and they were enjoying the sport immensely when 
Dorothy, angry and indignant at the treatment her friends were 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

receiving, rushed among the Tottenhots and began slapping 
and pushing them until she had rescued the Scarecrow and the 
Patchwork Girl and held them close on either side of her. Per- 
haps she would not have accomplished this victory so easily 
had not Toto helped her, barking and snapping at the bare legs 
of the imps until they were glad to flee from his attack. As 
for Ojo, some of the creatures had attempted to toss him, also, 
but finding his body too heavy they threw him to the ground 
and a row of the imps sat on him and held him from assisting 
Dorothy in her battle. 

The little brown folks were much surprised at being at- 
tacked by the girl and the dog, and one or two who had been 
slapped hardest began to cry. Then suddenly they gave a 
shout, all together, and disappeared in a flash into their various 
houses, the tops of which closed with a series 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 good shaking up and taken all the lumps out of it. 
I am now in splendid condition and am really obliged to the 
Tottenhots for their kind treatment." 

'I feel much the same way," said Scraps. 'My cotton 
stuffing had sagged a good deal with the day's walking and 
they've loosened it up until I feel as plump as a sausage. But 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

the play was a little rough and I 'd had quite enough of it when 
you interfered." 

' Six of them sat on me," said Ojo, " but as they are so little 
they didn't hurt me much." 

Just then the roof of the house in front of them opened and 
a Tottenhot stuck his head out, very cautiously, and looked at 
the strangers. 

f ' Can't you take a joke ? " he asked, reproachfully ; " haven't 
you any fun in you at all? ' 

'If I had such a quality," replied the Scarecrow, 'your 
people would have knocked it out of me. But I don't bear 
grudges. I forgive you." 


Chapter Nineteen 

'So do I," added Scraps. 'That is, if you behave your- 
selves after this." 

'It was just a little rough-house, that's all," said the Tot- 
tenhot. : 'But the question is not if we will behave, but if you 
will behave*? We can't be shut up here all night, because this 
is our time to play; nor do we care to come out and be chewed 
up by a savage beast or slapped by an angry girl. That slap- 
ping hurts like sixty; some of my folks are crying about it. 
So here's the proposition: you let us alone and we'll let you 

: You began it," declared Dorothy. 

'Well, you ended it, so we won't argue the matter. May 
we come out again 4 ? Or are you still cruel and slappy?' 

" Tell you what we '11 do," said Dorothy. ' We 're all tired 
and want to sleep until morning. If you '11 let us get into your 
house, and stay there until daylight, you can play outside all 
you want to." 

'That's a bargain!' cried the Tottenhot eagerly, and he 
gave a queer whistle that brought his people popping out of 
their houses on all sides. When the house before them was 
vacant, Dorothy and Ojo leaned over the hole and looked in, 
but could see nothing because it was so dark. But if the Tot- 
tenhots slept there all day the children thought they could 
sleep there at night, so Ojo lowered himself down and found 
it was not very deep. 

There's a soft cushion all over," said he. :i Come on in." 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Dorothy handed Toto to the boy and then climbed in her. 
self. After her came Scraps and the Scarecrow, who did not 
wish to sleep but preferred to keep out of the way of the 
mischievous Tottenhots. 

There seemed no furniture in the round den, but soft 
cushions were strewn about the floor 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 impish Tottenhots as they played out- 
side, but Dorothy and Ojo, being weary from their journey, 
were soon fast asleep. 

Toto kept an eye open, however, and uttered low, threat- 
ening growls whenever the racket made by the creatures out- 
side became too boisterous; and the Scarecrow and the Patch- 
work Girl sat leaning against the wall and talked in whispers 
all night long. No one disturbed the travelers until daylight, 
when in popped the Tottenhot who owned the place and in- 
vited them to vacate his premises. 



AS they were preparing 
to leave, Dorothy asked: 
: 'Can you tell us where 
there is a dark well?' 

'Never heard of such a 
tiling," said the Tottenhot. 
'We live our lives in the 
dark, mostly, and sleep in 
the daytime; but we've 
never seen a dark well, or 
anything like one." 

'Does anyone live on 
those mountains beyond 
here?' asked the Scare- 

'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, 
and so we obey. This 
sandy desert is good enough 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

for us, and we're not disturbed here," leclared the Tottenhot. 

So they left the man snuggling down to sleep in his dusky 
dwelling, and went out into the sunshine, taking the path that 
led toward the rocky places. They soon found it hard climb- 
ing, for the rocks were uneven and full of sharp points and 
edges, and now there was no path at all. Clambering here 
and there among the boulders they kept steadily on, gradually 
rising higher and higher until finally they came to a great rift 
in a part of the mountain, where the rock seemed to have split 
in two and left high walls on either side. 

"S'pose we go this way," suggested Dorothy; 'it's much 
easier walking than to 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 rock beside them, which Dorothy had not noticed. The 
words read: 


The girl eyed this sign a moment and then turned to the 
Scarecrow, asking: 

'Who is Yoop; or what is Yoop?' 

The straw man shook his head. Then she looked at Toto 
and the dog said "Woof!" 

' Only way to find out is to go on," said Scraps. 


Chapter Twenty 

This being quite true, they went on. As they proceeded, 
the walls of rock on either side grew higher and higher. Pres- 
ently they came upon another sign which read : 


'Why, as for that," remarked Dorothy, "if Yoop is a cap- 
tive there 's no need to beware of him. Whatever Yoop hap- 
pens to be, I 'd much rather have him a captive than running 
around loose." 

: 'So had I," agreed the Scarecrow, with a nod of his painted 

"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 asked the Patchwork Girl. 

"Not queer, but crazy," said Ojo. 'When she says those 
things I'm sure her brains get mixed somehow and work the 
wrong way." 

"I don't see why we are told to beware the Yoop unless he 
is dangerous," observed the Scarecrow in a puzzled tone. 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

"Never mind; we'll find out all about him when we get 
to where he is," replied the little girl. 

The narrow canyon turned and twisted this way and that, 
and the rift was so small that they were able to touch both walls 
at the same time by stretching out their arms. Toto had run 
on ahead, frisking playfully, when suddenly he uttered a sharp 
bark of fear and came running back to them with his tail 
between his legs, as dogs do when they are frightened. 

'Ah," said the Scarecrow, who was leading the way, 'we 
must be near Yoop." 

Just then, as he rounded a sharp turn, the straw man 

stopped so suddenly that all the others bumped against him. 

'What is it*?" asked Dorothy, standing on tip-toes to look 

over his shoulder. But then she saw what it was and cried 

' Oh! " in a tone of astonishment. 

In one of the rock walls- -that at their left was hollowed 
a great cavern, in front of which was a row of thick iron bars, 
the tops and bottoms being firmly fixed in the solid rock. Over 
this cavern was a big sign, which Dorothy read with much 
curiosity, speaking the words aloud that all might know what 
they said: 


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.) 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Age, 400 Tears 'and Up' (as they say in the Department 

Store advertisements) . 

temper, Fierce and Ferocious. (Except when asleep.) 
Appetite, Ravenous .--( Prefers Meat People and Orange 



P. S. Dorit 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 over those sharp rocks if we can't use this passage. I 
think it will be best to run by the Giant's cave as fast as we 
can go. Mister Yoop seems to be asleep just now." 

But the Giant wasn't asleep. He suddenly appeared at 
the front of his cavern, seized the iron bars in his great hairy 
hands and shook them until they rattled in their sockets. Yoop 
was so tall that our friends had to tip their heads way back to 
look into his face, and they noticed he was dressed all in pink 
velvet, with silver buttons and braid. The Giant's boots were 
of pink leather and had tassels on them and his hat was deco- 
rated with an enormous pink ostrich feather, carefully curled. 

"Yo-ho! 5 he said in a deep bass voice; 'I smell dinner." 

' I think you are mistaken," replied the Scarecrow. l There 
is no orange marmalade around here." 


Chapter Twenty 

"Ah, but I eat other things," asserted Mister Yoop. "That 
is, I eat them when I can get them. But this is a lonely place, 
and no good meat has passed by my cave for many years; so 
I 'm hungry." 

:< Haven't you eaten anything in many years'?" asked 

:< Nothing except six ants and a monkey. I thought the 
monkey would taste like meat people, but the flavor was dif- 
ferent. I hope you will taste better, for you seem plump and 

'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. : ' Consider how many years it is since I ' ve eaten a single 
plump little girl ! They tell me meat is going up, but if I can 
manage to catch you I 'm sure it will soon be going down. And 
I'll catch you if I can." 

With this the 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 the rock passage. Then he ex- 
tended them as far as he could reach toward our travelers and 
found he could almost touch the Scarecrow but not quite. 

"Come a little nearer, please," begged the Giant. 

' I 'm a Scarecrow." 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

"A Scarecrow'? Ugh! I don't care a straw for a scarecrow. 
Who is that bright-colored delicacy behind you 4 ?' 

"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 my dinner 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 a little way and talk this over." 

So they turned and went around the bend in the passage, 
where they were out of sight of the cave and Mister Yoop could 
not hear them. 

'My idea," began the Scarecrow, when they had halted, 
'is to make a dash past the cave, going on a run." 
'He'd grab us," said Dorothy. 

'Well, he can't grab but one at a time, and I'll go first. 
As soon as he grabs me the rest of you can slip past him, out 
of his reach, and he will soon let me go because I am not fit 
to eat." 

They decided to try this plan and Dorothy took Toto in 
her arms, so as to protect him. She followed just after the 
Scarecrow. Then came Ojo, with Scraps the last of the four. 
Their hearts beat a little faster than usual as they again ap- 
proached the Giant's cave, this time moving swiftly forward. 
It turned out about the way the Scarecrow had planned. 


Chapter Twenty 

Mister Yoop was quite astonished to see them come flying 
toward him, and thrusting his arms between the bars he seized 
the Scarecrow in a firm grip. In the next instant he realized, 
from the way the straw crunched between his fingers, that he 
had captured the non-eatable man, but during that instant of 
delay Dorothy and Ojo had slipped by the Giant and were out 
of reach. Uttering a howl of rage the monster threw the Scare- 
crow after them with one hand and grabbed Scraps with the 

The poor Scarecrow went whirling through the air and so 
cleverly was he aimed that he struck Ojo's back and sent the 
boy tumbling head over heels, and he tripped Dorothy and 
sent her, also, sprawling upon the ground. Toto flew out of 
the little girl's arms and landed some distance ahead, and all 
were so dazed that it was a moment before they could scramble 
to their feet again. When they did so they turned to look 
toward the Giant's cave, and at that moment the ferocious 
Mister Yoop threw the Patchwork Girl at them. 

Down went all three again, in a heap, with Scraps on top. 
The Giant roared so terribly that for a time they were afraid 
he had broken loose; but he hadn't. So they sat in the road 
and looked at one another in a rather bewildered way, and then 
began to feel glad. 

'We did it!' exclaimed the Scarecrow, with satisfaction. 
"And now we are free to go on our way." 

"Mister Yoop is very impolite," declared Scraps. 'He 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

jarred me terribly. It's lucky my stitches are so fine and 
strong, for otherwise such harsh treatment might rip me up the 

"Allow me to apologize for the Giant/' said the Scarecrow, 
raising the Patchwork Girl to her feet and dusting her skirt with 
his stuffed hands. '' Mister Yoop is a perfect stranger to me, 
but I fear, from the rude manner in which he has acted, that he 
is no gentleman." 

Dorothy and Ojo laughed at this statement and Toto 
barked as if he understood the joke, after which they all felt 
better and resumed the journey in high spirits. 

c Of course," said the little girl, when they had walked a 
way along the passage, "it was lucky for us the Giant was 
caged; for, if he had happened to be loose, he he 

' Perhaps, in that case, he wouldn't be hungry any more," 
said Ojo gravely. 



THEY must have had 
good courage to climb all 
those rocks, for after get- 
ting out of the canyon they 
encountered more rock hills 
to be surmounted. Toto 
could jump from one rock 
to another quite easily, but 
the others had to creep and 
climb with care, so that 
after a whole day of such 
work Dorothy and Ojo 
found themselves very 

As they gazed upward 
at the great mass of tum- 
bled rocks that covered the 
steep incline, Dorothy gave 
a little groan and said: 

'That's going to be a 
ter'ble hard climb, Scare- 
crow. I wish we could find 
the dark well without so 
much trouble." 

" Suppose," said Ojo, 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

'you wait here and let me do the climbing, for it's on my 
account we're searching for the dark well. Then, if I don't find 
anything, I'll come back and join you." 

'No," replied the little girl, shaking her head positively, 
'we'll all go together, for that way we can help each other. 
If you went alone, something might happen to you, Ojo." 

So they began the climb and found it indeed difficult, for 
a way. But presently, in creeping over the big crags, they 
found a path at their feet which wound in and out among the 
masses of rock and was quite smooth and easy to walk upon. 
As the path gradually ascended the mountain, although in a 
roundabout way, they decided to follow it. 

This must be the road to trie Country of the Hoppers," 
said the Scarecrow. 

'Who are the Hoppers'?' asked Dorothy. 

' Some people Jack Pumpkinhead told me about," he 

' I didn't hear him," replied the girl. 

' No; you were asleep," explained the Scarecrow. ' But he 
told Scraps and me that the Hoppers and the Homers live on 
this mountain." 

'He said in the mountain," declared Scraps; but of 
course he meant on it." 

' Didn't he say what the Hoppers and Homers were like? ' 
inquired Dorothy. 

: 'No; he only said they were two separate nations, and 


Chapter Twenty-one 

that the Homers were the most important." 

"Well, if we go to their country we'll find out all about 
'em," said the girl. 'But I've never heard Ozma mention 
those people, so they can't be very important." 

: 'Is this mountain in the Land of OzT' asked Scraps. 

:< Course it is," answered Dorothy. : 'It's in the South 
Country of the Quadlings. When one comes to the edge of 
Oz, in any direction, there is nothing more to be seen at all. 
Once you could see sandy desert all around Oz; but now it's 
diff'rent, and no other people can see us, any more than we can 
see them." 

' If the mountain is under Ozma's rule, why doesn't she 
know about the Hoppers and the Homers'?" Ojo asked. 

'Why, it's a fairyland," explained Dorothy, "and lots of 
queer people live in places so tucked away that those in the 
Emerald City never even hear of 'em. In the middle of the 
country it 's diff 'rent, but when you get around the edges you 're 
sure to run into strange little corners that surprise you. I 
know, for I 've traveled in Oz a good deal, and so has the Scare- 


: 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 much more by traveling than by staying at home." 

During this conversation they had been walking up the 
steep pathway and now found themselves well up on the moun- 
tain. They could see nothing around them, for the rocks be- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

side their path were higher than their heads. Nor could they 
see far in front of them, because the path was so crooked. But 
suddenly they stopped, because the path ended and there was 
no place to go. Ahead was a big rock lying against the side of 
the mountain, and this blocked the way completely. 

" There wouldn't be a path, though, if it didn't go some- 
where," said the Scarecrow, wrinkling his forehead in deep 

" This is somewhere, isn't it? " asked the Patchwork Girl, 
laughing at the 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'ful steep path." 

As she spoke she leaned against the edge of the big rock that 
stood in their way. To her surprise it slowly swung backward 
and showed behind it a dark hole that 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 to go where the path does?' 


Chapter Twenty-one 

: 'It's underground; right inside the mountain," said Ojo, 
peering into the dark hole. 'Perhaps there's a well there; 
and, if there is, it's sure to be a dark one." 

' Why, that 's true enough ! ' cried Dorothy with eager- 
ness. '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 the Scarecrow had bravely gone first. Scraps followed 
closely after the straw man and then Ojo and Dorothy timidly 
stepped inside the tunnel. As soon as all of them had passed 
the big rock, it slowly turned and filled up the opening again ; 
but now they were no longer in the dark, for a soft, rosy light 
enabled them to see around them quite distinctly. 

It was only a passage, wide enough for two of them to walk 
abreast with Toto in between them and it had a high, 
arched roof. They could not see where the light which flooded 
the place so pleasantly came from, for there were no lamps any- 
where visible. The passage ran straight for a little way and 
then made a bend to the right and another sharp turn to the left, 
after which it went straight again. But there were no side pas- 
sages, so they could not lose their way. 

After proceeding some distance, Toto, who had gone on 
ahead, began to bark loudly. They ran around a bend to see 
what was the matter and found a man sitting on the floor of 
the passage and leaning his back against the wall. He had 
probably been asleep before Toto's barks aroused him, for he 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

was now rubbing his eyes and staring at the little dog with all 
his might. 

There was something about this man that Toto objected 
to, and when he slowly rose to his foot they saw what it was. 
He had but one leg, set just below the middle of his round, fat 
body; but it was a stout leg and had a broad, flat foot at the 
bottom of it, on which the man seemed to stand very well. He 
had never had but this one leg, which looked something like a 
pedestal, and when Toto ran up and made a grab at the man's 
ankle he hopped first one way and then another in a very active 
manner, looking so frightened that Scraps laughed aloud. 

Toto was usually a well behaved dog, but this time he was 
angry and snapped at the man's leg again and again. This 
filled the poor fellow with fear, and in hopping out of Toto's 
reach he suddenly lost his balance and tumbled heel over head 
upon the floor. When he sat up he kicked Toto on the nose 
and made the dog howl angrily, but Dorothy now ran forward 
and caught Toto's collar, holding him back. 

'Do you surrender?" she asked the man. 

"Who? Me?" 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 surren- 
der, for it's the proper thing to do. I like to do everything 
proper, for it saves one a lot of trouble." 


Chapter Twenty-one 

It does, indeed," said Dorothy. 'Please tell us who you 


"I'm Hip Hopper Hip Hopper, the Champion." 

: ' Champion what?" she asked in surprise. 

: ' Champion wrestler. I'm a very strong man, and that 
ferocious animal which you are so kindly holding is the first liv- 
ing thing that has ever conquered me." 

"And you are a Hopper?" she continued. 

'Yes. My people live in a great city not far from here. 
Would you like to visit it?' 

'I'm not sure," she said with hesitation. 'Have you any 
dark wells in your city?' 

"I think not. We have wells, you know, but they're all 
well lighted, and a well lighted well cannot well be a dark 
well. But there may be such a thing as a very dark well in 
the Horner Country, which is a black spot on the face of the 

'Where is the Horner Country?" Ojo inquired. 

' The other side of the mountain. There 's a fence between 
the Hopper Country and the Horner Country, and a gate in 
the fence; but you can't pass through just now, because we are 
at war with the Homers." 

'That's too bad," said the Scarecrow. 'What seems to be 
the trouble?" 

'Why, one of them made a very insulting remark about 
my people. He said we were lacking in understanding, be- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

cause we had only one leg to a person. I can't see that legs 
have anything to do with understanding things. The Hom- 
ers each have two legs, just as you have. That's one leg too 
many, it seems to me." 

"No," declared Dorothy, "it's just the right number." 

"You don't need them," argued the Hopper, obstinately. 
" You 've only one head, and one body, and one nose and mouth. 
Two legs are quite unnecessary, and they spoil one's shape." 

"But how can you walk, with only one legT' asked Ojo. 

"Walk! Who wants to walk*?' exclaimed the man. 
"Walking is a terribly awkward way to travel. I hop, and so 
do all my people. It 's so much more graceful and agreeable 
than walking." 

"I don't agree with you," said the Scarecrow. 'But tell 
me, is there any way to get to the Homer Country without go- 
ing through the city of the Hoppers'?' 

"Yes; there is another path from the rocky lowlands, out- 
side the mountain, that leads straight to the entrance of the 
Homer Country. But it's a long way around, so you'd better 
come with me. Perhaps they will allow you to go through the 
gate; but we expect to conquer them this afternoon, if we get 
time, and then you may go and come as you please." 

They thought it best to take the Hopper's advice, and asked 
him to lead the way. This he did in a series of hops, and he 
moved so swiftly in this strange manner that those with two 
legs had to run to keep up with him. 


IT was not long before 
they left the passage and 
came to a great cave, so 
high that it must have 
reached nearly to the top 
of the mountain within 
which it lay. It was a 
magnificent cave, illumined 
by the soft, invisible light, 
so that everything in it 
could be plainly seen. The 
walls were of polished mar- 
ble, white with veins of 
delicate colors running 
through it, and the roof 
was arched and carved in 
designs both fantastic and 

Built beneath this vast 
dome was a pretty village 
not very large, for there 
seemed not more than fifty 
houses altogether and 
the dwellings were of mar- 
ble and artistically de- 
signed. No grass nor flow- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

ers nor trees grew in this cave, so the yards surrounding the 
houses were smooth and bare and had low walls around them 
to mark their boundaries. 

In the streets and the yards of the houses were many people 
all having one leg growing below their bodies and all hopping 
here and there whenever they moved. Even the children stood 
firmly upon their single legs and never lost their balance. 

:C A11 hail, Champion!' cried a man in the first group of 
Hoppers they met; "whom have you captured?' 

'No one," replied the Champion in a gloomy voice; "these 
strangers have captured me." 

: Then," said another, 'we will rescue you, and capture 
them, for we are greater in number." 

"No," answered the Champion, 'I can't allow it. I've 
surrendered, and it isn't polite to capture those you've sur- 
rendered to." 

'Never mind that," said Dorothy. 'We will give you 
your liberty and set you free." 

' Really*?" asked the Champion in joyous tones. 
Yes," said the little girl; "your people may need you to 
help conquer the Homers." 

At this all the Hoppers looked downcast and sad. Several 
more had joined the group by this time and quite a crowd of 
curious men, women and children surrounded the strangers. 

' This war with our neighbors is a terrible thing," remarked 
one of the women. " Some one is almost sure to get hurt." 


Chapter Twenty-two 

"Why do you say that, madam ?" inquired the Scarecrow. 

"Because the horns of our enemies are sharp, and in bat- 
tle they will try to stick those horns into our warriors," she 

"How many horns do the Homers have?" asked Dorothy. 

: 'Each has one horn in the center of his forehead," was the 

'Oh, then they're unicorns," declared the Scarecrow. 

"No; they're Homers. We never go to war with them if 
we can help it, on account of their dangerous horns; but this 
insult was so great and so unprovoked that our brave men de- 
cided to fight, in order to be revenged," said the woman. 

'What weapons do you fight with?" the Scarecrow asked. 

'We have no weapons," explained the Champion. "When- 
ever we fight the Homers, our plan is to push them back, for 
our arms are longer than theirs." 

1 Then you are better armed," said Scraps. 
: Yes ; but they have those terrible horns, and unless we are 
careful they prick us with the points," returned the Champion 
with a shudder. c That makes a war with them dangerous, and 
a dangerous war cannot be a pleasant one." 

'I see very clearly," remarked the Scarecrow, "that you are 
going to have trouble in conquering those Homers unless we 
help you." 

'Oh!" cried the Hoppers in a chorus; "can you help us? 
Please do! We will be greatly obliged! It would please us 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

very much!' and by these exclamations the Scarecrow knew 
that his speech had met with favor. 

"How far is it to the Horner Country?" he asked. 

"Why, it's just the other side of the fence," they answered, 
and the Champion added : 

'Come with me, please, and I'll show you the Homers." 

So they followed the Champion and several others through 
the streets and just beyond the village came to a very high 
picket fence, built all of marble, which seemed to divide the 
great cave into two equal parts. 

But the part inhabited by the Homers was in no way as 
grand in appearance as that of the Hoppers. Instead of being 
marble, the walls and roof were of dull gray rock and the square 
houses were plainly made of the same material. But in extent 
the city was much larger than that of the Hoppers and the 
streets were thronged with numerous people who busied them- 
selves in various ways. 

Looking through the open pickets of the fence our friends 
watched the Homers, who did not know they were being 
watched by strangers, and found them very unusual in appear- 
ance. They were little folks in size and had bodies round as 
balls and short legs and arms. Their heads were round, too, 
and they had long, pointed ears and a horn set in the center of 
the forehead. The horns did not seem very terrible, for they 
were not more than six inches long; but they were ivory white 
and sharp pointed, and no wonder the Hoppers feared them. 


^__ Chapter Twenty-two 

The skins of the Homers were light brown, but they wore 
snow-white robes and were bare-footed. Dorothy thought the 
most striking thing about them was their hair, which grew in 
three distinct colors on each and every head red, yellow and 
green. The red was at the bottom and sometimes hung over 
their eyes; then came a broad circle of yellow and the green 
was at the top and formed a brush-shaped top-knot. 

None of the Homers was yet aware of the presence of 
strangers, who watched the little brown people for a time and 
then went to the big gate in the center of the dividing fence. 
It was locked on both sides and over the latch was a sign 
reading : 


"Can't we go through?" asked Dorothy. 

"Not now," answered the Champion. 

"I think," said the Scarecrow, 'that if I could talk with 
those Homers they 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 throw me over that fence ? It is high, but I am very 

light." ':',', 

"We can try it," said the Hopper. "I am perhaps the 
strongest man in my country, so I '11 undertake to do the throw- 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

ing. But I won't promise you will land on your feet." 

"No matter about that," returned the Scarecrow. "Just 
toss me over and I'll be satisfied." 

So the Champion picked up the Scarecrow and balanced 
him a moment, to see how much he weighed, and then with all 
his strength tossed him high into the air. 

Perhaps if the Scarecrow had been a trifle heavier he would 
have been easier to throw and would have gone a greater dis- 
tance; but, as it was, instead of going over the fence he landed 
just on top of it, and one of the sharp pickets caught him in 
the middle of his back and held him fast prisoner. Had he been 
face downward the Scarecrow might have managed to free 
himself, but lying on his back on the picket his hands waved 
in the air of the Homer Country while his feet kicked the air 
of the Hopper Country; so there he was. 

: Are you hurt?" called the Patchwork Girl anxiously. 
: Course not," said Dorothy. 'But if he wiggles that way 
he may tear his clothes. How can we get him down, Mr. 

The Champion shook his head. 

"I don't know," he confessed. 'If he could scare Homers 
as well as he does crows, it might be a good idea to leave him 

'This is terrible," said Ojo, almost ready to cry. f I s'pose 
it's because I am Ojo the Unlucky that everyone who tries to 
help me gets into trouble." 




Chapter Twenty-two 

: You are lucky to have anyone to help you," declared 
Dorothy. 'But don't worry. We'll rescue the Scarecrow, 

" I know how," announced Scraps. 'Here, Mr. Champion; 
just throw me up to the Scarecrow. I'm nearly as light as he 

is, and when I 'm on top the fence I '11 pull our friend off the 
picket and toss him down to you." 

''All right," said the Champion, and he picked up the Patch- 
work Girl and threw her in the same manner he had the Scare- 
crow. He must have used more strength this time, however, 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

for Scraps sailed far over the top of the fence and, without 
being able to grab the Scarecrow at all, tumbled to the ground 
in the Homer Country, where her stuffed body knocked over 
two men and a woman and made a crowd that had collected 
there run like rabbits to get away from her. 

Seeing the next moment that she was harmless, the people 
slowly returned and gathered around the Patchwork Girl, re- 
garding her with astonishment. One of them wore a jeweled 
star in his hair, just above his horn, and this seemed a person of 
importance. He spoke for the rest of 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 
wadding smooth 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 have come from," she replied. 

He looked at her thoughtfully. 

" You are not a Hopper," said he, " for you have two legs. 
They're not very well shaped, but they are two in number. 
And that strange creature on top the fence why doesn't he 
stop kicking ? must be your brother, or father, or son, for he 
also has two legs." 

"You must have been to visit the Wise Donkey," said 
Scraps, laughing so merrily that the crowd smiled with her, in 
sympathy. "But that reminds me, Captain or King " 


Chapter Twenty-two 

"I am Chief of the Homers, and my name is Jak." 
; 'Of course; Little Jack Homer; I might have known it. 
But the reason I volplaned over the fence was so I could have 
a talk with you about the Hoppers." 

' What about the Hoppers ? " asked the Chief, frowning. 

You've insulted them, and you'd better beg their par- 
don," 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," de- 
clared the Chief. "And we didn't insult them at all. One of 
us made a joke that the stupid Hoppers couldn't see." 

The Chief smiled as he said this and the smile made his face 
look quite jolly. 

W T hat was the joke*?" asked Scraps. 

A Horner said they have less understanding than we, be- 
cause they've only one leg. Ha, ha! You see the point, don't 
you? If you stand on your legs, and your legs are under you, 
then ha, ha, ha! then your legs are your under-standing. 
Hee, hee, hee! Ho, ho! My, but that's a fine joke. And the 
stupid Hoppers couldn't see it! They couldn't see that with 
only one leg they must have less under-standing than we who 
have two legs. Ha, ha, ha ! Hee, hee ! Ho, ho ! ' The Chief 
wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes with the bottom hem 
of his white robe, and all the other Homers wiped their eyes 
on their robes, for they had laughed just as heartily as their 
Chief at the absurd joke. 




The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

"Then," said Scraps, "their understanding of the under- 
standing you meant led to the misunderstanding." 

"Exactly; and so there's no need for us to apologize," re- 
turned the Chief. 

"No need for an apology, perhaps, but much need for an 
explanation," said Scraps decidedly. You don't want war, 
do you?" 

"Not if we can help it," admitted Jak Homer. 'The 
question is, who's going to explain the joke to the Homers? 
You know it spoils any joke to be obliged to explain it, and 
this is the best joke I ever heard." 

"Who made the joke?" asked Scraps. 

"Diksey Homer. He is working in the mines, just now, 
but he '11 be home before long. Suppose we wait and talk with 
him about it? Maybe he'll be willing to explain his joke to 
the Hoppers." 

"All right," said Scraps. "I'll wait, if Diksey isn't too 

'No, he's short; he's shorter than I am. Ha, ha, ha! Say! 
that's a better joke than Diksey's. He won't be too long, 
because he's short. Hee, hee, ho!' 

The other Homers who were standing by roared with 
laughter and seemed to like their Chief's joke as much as he 
did. Scraps thought it was odd that they could be so easily 
amused, but decided there could be little harm in people who 
laughed so merrily. 



"COME with me to my 
dwelling and I '11 introduce 
you to my daughters," said 
the Chief. "We're bring- 
ing them up according to a 
book of rules that was writ- 
ten by one of our leading 
old bachelors, and everyone 
says they're a remarkable 
lot of girls." 

So Scraps accompanied 
him along the street to a 
house that seemed on the 
outside exceptionally grimy 
and dingy. The streets of 
this city were not paved 
nor had any attempt been 
made to beautify the houses 
or their surroundings, and 
having noticed this condi- 
tion Scraps was astonished 
when the Chief ushered her 
into his home. 

Here was nothing grimy 
or faded, indeed. On the 
contrary, the room was of 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

dazzling brilliance and beauty, for it was lined throughout with 
an exquisite metal that resembled translucent frosted silver. 
The surface of this metal was highly ornamented in raised de- 
signs representing men, animals, flowers and trees, and from 
the metal itself was radiated the soft light which flooded the 
room. All the furniture was made of the same glorious metal, 
and Scraps asked what it was. 

'That's radium," answered the Chief. 'We Homers 
spend all our time digging radium from the mines under this 
mountain, and we use it to decorate 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 with it, just the same as mine is." 

'Why don't you use it on your streets, then, and the out- 
side of your houses, to make them as pretty as they are within? ' 
she inquired. 

'Outside? Who cares for the outside of anything?" asked 
the Chief. 'We Homers don't live on the outside of our 
homes; we live inside. Many people are like those stupid Hop- 
pers, 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 marble 
houses and marble streets ; but if you entered one of their stiff 
dwellings you would find it bare and uncomfortable, as all 


Chapter Twenty-three 

their show is on the outside. They have an idea that what is 
not seen by others is not important, but with us the rooms we 
live in are our chief delight and care, and we pay no attention 
to outside show." 

" Seems to me," said Scraps, musingly, u it would be better 
to make it all pretty inside and out." 

" Seems? Why, you 're all seams, my girl ! " said the Chief; 
and then he laughed heartily at his latest joke and a chorus 
of small voices echoed the chorus with ' ' tee-hee-hee ! ha, ha ! ' 

Scraps turned around and found a row of girls seated in 
radium chairs ranged along one wall of the room. There were 
nineteen of them, by actual count, and they were of all sizes 
from a tiny child to one almost a grown woman. All were 
neatly dressed in spotless white robes and had brown skins, 
horns on their foreheads and three-colored hair. 

'These," said the Chief, : 'are my sweet daughters. My 
dears, I introduce to you Miss Scraps Patchwork, a lady who is 
traveling in foreign parts to increase her store of wisdom." 

The nineteen Homer girls all arose and made a polite cour- 
tesy, after which they resumed their seats and rearranged their 
robes properly. 

1 Why do they sit so still, and all in a row?" asked Scraps. 

' Because it is ladylike and proper," replied the Chief. 

'But some are just children, poor things! Don't they ever 
run around and play and laugh, and have a good time?' 

"No, indeed," said the Chief. 'That would be improper 


The Patch-work Giri of Qz 

in young ladies, as well as in those who will sometime become 
young ladies. My daughters are being brought up according to 
the rules and regulations laid down by a leading bachelor who 
has given the subject much study and is himself a man of taste 
and culture. Politeness is his great hobby, and he claims that 
if a child is allowed to do an impolite thing one cannot expect 
the grown person to do anything better." 

"Is it impolite to romp and shout and be jolly?' asked 

'Well, sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't," replied the 
Horner, after considering the question. 'By curbing such in- 
clinations in my daughters we keep on the safe side. Once in 
a while I make a good joke, as you have heard, and then I per- 
mit 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 sub- 
ject had not the door opened to admit a little Horner man 
whom the Chief introduced as Diksey. 

"What's up, Chief?' asked Diksey, winking nineteen 
times at the nineteen girls, who demurely cast down their eyes 
because their father was looking. 

The Chief told the man that his joke had not been under- 
stood by the dull Hoppers, who had become so angry that they 
had declared war. So the only way to avoid a terrible battle 
was to explain the joke so they could understand it. 


Chapter Twenty-three 

" All right," replied Diksey, who seemed a good-natured 
man; "I'll go at once to the fence and explain. I don't want 
any war with the Hoppers, for wars between nations always 
cause hard feelings." 

So the Chief and Diksey and Scraps left the house and went 
back to the marble picket fence. The Scarecrow was still stuck 
on the top of his picket but had now ceased to struggle. On 
the other side of the fence were Dorothy and Ojo, looking 
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 a joke. You have but one leg each, and we have two 
legs each. Our legs are under us, whether one or two, and we 
stand on them. So, when I said you had less understanding 
than we, I did not mean that you had less understanding, you 
understand, but that you had less standundering, so to speak. 
Do you understand that 4 ?' 

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 were solemn enough. 

"I'll tell you where the joke comes in," she said, and took 
the Hoppers away to a distance, where the Homers could not 
hear them. You know," she then explained, 'those neigh- 
bors of yours are not very bright, poor things, and what they 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

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 Cham- 

"Yes; it's true because you don't understand such a poor 
joke; if you did, you'd be no wiser than they are." 

"Ah, yes; of course," they answered, looking very wise. 

" So I '11 tell you what to do," continued Dorothy. : ' Laugh 
at their poor joke and tell 'em it's pretty good for a Homer. 
Then they won't dare say you have less understanding, because 
you understand as much as they do." 

The Hoppers looked at one another questioningly and 
blinked their eyes and tried to think what it all meant; but 
they couldn't figure it out. 

"What do you think, Champion?" asked one of them. 

" I think it is dangerous to think of this thing any more than 
we can help," he replied. "Let us do as this girl says and 
laugh with the Homers, so as to make them believe we see the 
joke. Then there will be peace again and no need to fight." 

They readily agreed to this and returned to the fence laugh- 
ing as loud and as hard as they could, although they didn't 
feel like laughing a bit. The Homers were much surprised. 

"That's a fine joke for a Homer and we are much 
pleased with it," said the Champion, speaking between the 
pickets. :c But please don't do it again." 

"I won't," promised Diksey. "If I think of another such 
joke I '11 try to forget it." 


Chapter Twenty-three 

'Good! 5 cried the Chief Homer. 'The war is over and 
peace is declared." 

There was much joyful shouting on both sides the fence and 
the gate was unlocked and thrown wide open, so that Scraps 
was able to rejoin her friends. 

'W T hat about the Scarecrow?' she asked Dorothy. 

1 We must get him down, somehow or other," was the reply. 

'Perhaps the Homers can find a way," suggested Ojo. So 
they all went through the gate and Dorothy asked the Chief 
Horner how they could get the Scarecrow off the fence. The 
Chief didn't know how, but Diksey said: 

"A ladder's the thing." 

'Have you one?" asked Dorothy. 

' To be sure. We use ladders in our mines," said he. Then 
he ran away to get the ladder, and while he was gone the 
Homers gathered around and welcomed the strangers to theii 
country, for through them a great war had been avoided. 

In a little while Diksey came back with a tall ladder which 
he placed against the fence. Ojo at once climbed to the top of 
the ladder and Dorothy went about halfway up and Scraps 
stood at the foot of it. Toto ran around it and barked. Then 
Ojo pulled the Scarecrow away from the picket and passed him 
down to Dorothy, who in turn lowered him to the Patchwork 

As soon as he was on his feet and standing on solid ground 
the Scarecrow said : 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

" Much obliged. I feel much better. I 'm not stuck on that 
picket any more." 

The Homers began to laugh, thinking this was a joke, but 
the Scarecrow shook himself and patted his straw a little and 
said to Dorothy: 'Is there much of a hole in my back?' 

The little girl examined him carefully. 

: There's quite a hole," she said. 'But I've got a needle 
and thread in the knapsack and I'll sew you up again." 

"Do so," he begged earnestly, and again the Hoppers 
laughed, to the Scarecrow's great annoyance. 

While Dorothy was sewing up the hole in the straw man's 
back Scraps examined the other parts of him. 

'One of his legs is ripped, too!" she exclaimed. 

"Oho!' cried little Diksey; 'that's bad. Give him the 
needle and thread and let him mend his ways." 

"Ha, ha, ha!' laughed the Chief, and the other Homers 
at once roared with laughter. 

'What's funny?' inquired the Scarecrow sternly. 

'Don't you see?' asked Diksey, who had laughed even 
harder than the others. "That's a joke. It's by odds the best 
joke I ever made. You walk with your legs, and so that's the 
way you walk, and your legs are the ways. See? So, when 
you mend your legs, you mend your ways. Ho, ho, ho! hee, 
hee ! I 'd no idea I could make such a fine joke ! ' 

: ' Just wonderful!" echoed the Chief. 'How do you man- 
age to do it, Diksey?' 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

"I don't know," said Diksey modestly. 'Perhaps it's the 
radium, but I rather think it 's my splendid intellect." 

"If you don't quit it," the Scarecrow told him, 'there'll 
be a worse war than the one you've escaped from." 

Ojo had been deep in thought, and now he asked the Chief: 
"Is there a dark well in any part of your country?" 

"A dark well? None that ever I heard of," was the answer. 

'Oh, yes," said Diksey, who overheard the boy's question. 
" There 's a very 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 Diksey to the mine. When Dorothy had patted the 
straw man into shape again he declared he felt as good as new 
and equal to further adventures. 

; ' Still," said he, " I prefer not to do picket duty again. High 
life doesn't seem to agree with my constitution." And then 
they hurried away to escape the laughter of the Homers, who 
thought this was another joke. 


.'. L 


THEY now followed Dik- 
sey to the farther end of 
the great cave, beyond the 
Horner city, where there 
were several round, dark 
holes leading into the 
ground in a slanting direc- 
tion. Diksey went to one 
of these holes and said: 

'Here is the mine in 
which lies the dark well 
you are seeking. Follow 
me and step carefully and 
I '11 lead you to the place." 

He went in first and 
after him came Ojo, and 
then Dorothy, with the 
Scarecrow behind her. The 
Patchwork Girl entered 
last of all, for Toto kept 
close beside his little mis- 

A few steps beyond the 
mouth of the opening it 
was pitch dark. "You 
won't lose your way, 



The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

though," said the Homer, 'for there's only one way to go. 
The mine's mine and I know every step of the way. How's 
that for a joke, eh*? The mine's mine." Then he chuckled 
gleefully as they followed him silently down the steep slant. 
The hole was just big enough to permit them to walk upright, 
although the Scarecrow, being much the taller of the party, 
often had to bend his head to keep from hitting the top. 

The floor of the tunnel was difficult to walk upon because 
it had been worn smooth as glass, and pretty soon Scraps, who 
was some distance behind the others, slipped and fell head 
foremost. At once she began to slide downward, so swiftly 
that when she came to the Scarecrow she knocked him off his 
feet and sent him tumbling against Dorothy, who tripped up 
Ojo. The boy fell against the Homer, so that all went tum- 
bling down the slide in a regular mix-up, unable to see where 
they were going because of the darkness. 

Fortunately, when they reached the bottom the Scarecrow 
and Scraps were in 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 the tiny grains of radium that lay 
scattered among the loose rocks. 

: 'Now," said Diksey, when they had all regained their feet, 
'I will show you where the dark well is. This is a big place, 
but if we hold fast to each other we won't get lost." 

They took hold of hands and the Homer led them into a 
dark corner, where he halted. 


Chapter Twenty-four 

'Be careful," said he warningly. 'The well is at your 

: 'A11 right," replied Ojo, and kneeling down he felt in the 
well with his hand and found that it contained a quantity of 
water. "Where's the gold flask, Dorothy?" he asked, and 
the little girl handed him the flask, which she had brought 
with her. 

Ojo knelt again and by feeling carefully in the dark man- 
aged to fill the flask with the unseen water that was in the 
well. Then he screwed the top of the flask firmly in place and 
put the precious water in his pocket. 

: 'A11 right!" he said again, in a glad voice; "now we can 
go back." 

They returned to the mouth of the tunnel and began to 
creep cautiously up the incline. This time they made Scraps 
stay behind, for fear she would slip again; but they all man- 
aged to get up in safety and the Munchkin boy was very happy 
when he stood in the Homer city and realized that the water 
from the dark well, which he and his friends had traveled so 
far to secure, was safe in his jacket pocket. 



"NOW," said Dorothy, as 
they stood on the moun- 
tain path, having left be- 
hind them the cave in 
which dwelt the Hoppers 
and the Homers, 'I think 
we must find a road into 
the Country of the Wink- 
ies, for there is where Ojo 
wants to go next." 

"Is there such a road?' 
asked the Scarecrow. 

"I don't know," she re- 
plied. " I s'pose we can go 
back the way we came, to 
Jack Pumpkinhead's house, 
and then turn into the 
Winkie Country; but that 
seems like running 'round 
a haystack, doesn't it ?' 

: Yes," said the Scare- 
crow. 'What is the next 
thing Ojo must get?' 

"A yellow butterfly," 
answered the boy. 

"That means the 

^ , 

sec a river 1 
fiavc cfiiffs 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Winkle Country, all right, for it 's the yellow country of Oz," 
remarked Dorothy. 'I think, Scarecrow, we ought to take him 
to the Tin Woodman, for he's the Emp'ror of the Winkies 
and will help us to find what Ojo wants." 

'Of course," replied the Scarecrow, brightening at the sug- 
gestion. 'The Tin Woodman will do anything we ask him, 
for he's one of my dearest friends. I believe we can take a 
crosscut into his country and so get to his castle a day sooner 
than if we travel back the way we came." 

"I think so, too," said the girl; 'and that means we must 
keep to the left." 

They were obliged to go down the mountain before they 
found any path that led in the direction they wanted to go, 
but among the tumbled rocks at the foot of the mountain was 
a faint trail which they decided to follow. Two or three hours' 
walk along this trail brought them to a clear, level country, 
where there were a few farms and some scattered houses. But 
they knew they were still in the Country of the Quadlings, 
because everything had a bright red color. Not that the trees 
and grasses were red, but the fences and houses were painted 
that color and all the wild-flowers that bloomed by the way- 
side had red blossoms. This part of the Quadling Country 
seemed peaceful and prosperous, if rather lonely, and the road 
was now more distinct and easier to follow. 

But just as they were congratulating themselves upon the 
progress they had made they came upon a broad river which 


Chapter Twenty~Hve 

swept along between high banks, and here the road ended and 
there was no bridge of any sort to allow them to cross. 

'This is queer," mused Dorothy, looking at the water re- 
flectively. 'Why should there be any road, if the river stops 
everyone walking along it 4 ?' 

1 Wow ! ' said Toto, gazing earnestly into her face. 

'That's the best answer you'll get," declared the Scare- 
crow, with his comical smile, 'for no one knows any more 
than Toto about this road." 
Said Scraps : 

* . 

Ev'ry time I see a river, 

I 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 get- 
ting crazy again. No one intends to swim that river." 

"No," decided Dorothy, "we couldn't swim it if we tried. 
It's too big a river, and the water moves awful fast." 

' There ought to be a ferryman with a boat," said the Scare- 
crow; "but I don't see any." 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

" 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 look- 
ing along the bank of the river. 

'Why, he sees a house over there!' cried the little girl. 
"I wonder we didn'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, painted bright red, and as it was on their side of the 
river they hurried toward it. A chubby little man, dressed all 
in red, came out to greet them, and with him were two children, 
also in red costumes. The man's eyes were big and staring as 
he examined the Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl, and the 
children shyly hid behind him and peeked timidly at Toto. 

'Do you live here, my good man*?' asked the Scarecrow. 

'I think I do, Most Mighty Magician," replied the Quad- 
ling, bowing low; "but whether I'm awake or dreaming I can't 
be positive, so I'm not sure where I live. If you'll kindly 
pinch me I'll find out all about it." 

; You 're awake," said Dorothy, : 'and this is no magician, 
but just the Scarecrow." 

'But he's alive," protested the man, : 'and he oughtn't to 
be, you know. And that other dreadful person the girl who 
is all patches seems to be alive, too." 

'Very much so," declared Scraps, making a face at him. 
''But that isn't your affair, you know." 


Chapter Twenty-five 

: Tve a right to be surprised, haven't I?" asked the man 

'I'm not sure; but anyhow you've no right to say I'm 
dreadful. The Scarecrow, who is a gentleman of great wis- 
dom, thinks I 'm beautiful," retorted Scraps, 

"Never mind all that," said Dorothy. 'Tell us, good 
Quadling, how we can get across the river." 

'I don't know," replied the Quadling. 

"Don't you ever cross it?" asked the girl. 


"Don't travelers cross it?' 

"Not to my knowledge," said he. 

They were much surprised to hear this, and the man added : 
"It's a pretty big river, and the current is strong. I know a 
man who lives on the opposite bank, for I've seen him there 
a good many years; but we've never spoken because neither of 
us has ever crossed over." 

"That's queer," said the Scarecrow. "Don't you own a 

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 the Country of the Winkies, which is ruled by the 

Tin Emperor, who must be a mighty magician because he's 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

all made of tin, and yet he 's alive. And that way," pointing 
with the other hand, 'the river runs between two mountains 
where dangerous people dwell." 

The Scarecrow looked at the water before them. 

"The current flows toward the Winkie Country," said he; 
'and so, if we had a boat, or a raft, the river would float us 
there more quickly and more easily than we could walk." 

'That is true," agreed Dorothy; and then they all looked 
thoughtful and wondered what could be done. 

'Why can't 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 raft is 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 I like best, I might work a little while." 

'I've got some Square Meal Tablets," said the Scarecrow. 

' Each one is the same as a dish of soup, a fried fish, a mutton 

pot-pie, lobster salad, charlotte russe and lemon jelly all 

made into one little tablet that you can swallow without 


'Without trouble!" exclaimed the Quadling, much inter- 
ested; "then those tablets would be fine for a lazy man. It's 
such hard work to chew when you eat." 


Chapter Twenty-five 

"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 who eat are very fond of. I never eat, you 
know, being straw; but some of my friends eat regularly. What 
do you say to my offer, Quadling?' 

"I'll do it," decided the man. 'I'll help, and you can do 
most of the work. But my wife has gone fishing for red eels 
to-day, so some of you will have to mind the children." 

Scraps promised to do that, and the children were not so 
shy when the Patchwork Girl sat down to play with them. 
They grew to like Toto, too, and the little dog allowed them 
to pat him on his head, which gave the little ones much joy. 

There were a number of fallen trees near the house and the 
Quadling got his axe and chopped them into logs of equal 
length. He took his wife's clothesline to bind these logs 
together, so that they would form a raft, and Ojo found some 
strips of wood and nailed them along the tops of the logs, to 
render them more firm. The Scarecrow and Dorothy helped 
roll the logs together and carry the strips of wood, but it took 
so long to make the raft that evening came just as it was 
finished, and with evening the Quadling's wife returned from 
her fishing. 

The woman proved to be cross and bad-tempered, perhaps 
because she had only caught one red eel during all the day. 
When she found that her husband had used her clothesline, 
and the logs she had wanted for firewood, and the boards she 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

had intended to mend the shed with, and a lot of gold nails, 
she became very angry. Scraps wanted to shake the woman, 
to make her behave, but Dorothy talked to her in a gentle tone 
and told the Quadling's wife she was a Princess of Oz and a 
friend of Ozma and that when she got back to the Emerald 
City she would send them a lot of things to repay them for the 
raft, including a new clothesline. This promise pleased the 
woman and she soon became more pleasant, saying they could 
stay the night at her house and begin their voyage on the river 

next morning. 

This they did, spending a pleasant evening with the Quad- 
ling family and being entertained with such hospitality as the 
poor people were able to offer them. The man groaned a good 
deal and said he had overworked himself by chopping the logs, 
but the Scarecrow gave him two more tablets than he had 
promised, which seemed to comfort the lazy fellow. 



NEXT morning they 
pushed the raft into the 
water and all got aboard. 
The Quadling man had to 
hold the log craft fast 
while they took their 
places, and the flow of the 
river was so powerful that 
it nearly tore the raft from 
his hands. As soon as they 
were all seated upon the 
logs he let go and away it 
floated and the adventurers 
had begun their voyage 
toward the Winkie Coun- 

The little house of the 
Quadlings was out of sight 
almost before they had 
cried their good-byes, and 
the Scarecrow said in a 
pleased voice: 'It won't 
take us long to get to the 
Winkie Country, at this 

They had floated sev- 

The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

eral miles down the stream and were enjoying the ride when 
suddenly the raft slowed up, stopped short, and then began to 
float back the way it had come. 

"Why, what's wrong?' asked Dorothy, in astonishment; 
but they were all just as bewildered as she was and at first no 
one could answer the question. Soon, however, they realized 
the truth: that the current of the river had reversed and the 
water was now flowing in the opposite direction toward the 

They began to recognize the scenes they had passed, and by 
and by they came in sight of the little house of the Quadlings 
again. The man was standing on the river bank and he called 
to them: 

"How do you do 4 ? Glad to see you again. I forgot to tell 
you that the river changes its direction every little while. 
Sometimes it flows one way, and sometimes the other." 

They had no time to answer him, for the raft was swept 
past the house and a long distance on the other side of it. 

"We're going just the way we don't want to go," said 
Dorothy, "and I guess the best thing we can do is to get to 
land before we're carried any farther." 

But they could not get to land. They had no oars, nor even 
a pole to guide the raft with. The logs which bore them floated 
in the middle of the stream and were held fast in that position 
by the strong current. 

So they sat still and waited and, even while they were won- 


Chapter Twenty-six 

dering what could be done, the raft slowed down, stopped, and 
began drifting the other way in the direction it had first fol- 
lowed. After a time they repassed 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 many times, as you go by, unless you happen to 
swim ashore." 

By that time they had left him behind and were headed once 
more straight toward the Winkie Country. 

'This is pretty hard luck," said Ojo in a discouraged voice. 
' The Trick River keeps changing, it seems, and here we must 
float back and forward forever, unless we manage in some way 
to get ashore." 

'Can you swim*?' asked Dorothy. 

"No; I'm Ojo the Unlucky." 

:< Neither can I. Toto can swim a little, but that won't 
help us to get to shore." 

"I don't know whether I could swim, or not, remarked 
Scraps; "but if I tried it I'd surely ruin my lovely patches." 

:< My straw would get soggy in the water and I would sink," 
said the Scarecrow. 

So there seemed no way out of their dilemma and being help- 
less they simply sat still. Ojo, who was on the front of the raft, 
looked over into the water and thought he saw some large fishes 
swimming about. He found a loose end of the clothesline 
which fastened the logs together, and taking a gold nail from 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

his pocket he bent it nearly double, to form a hook, and tied it 
to the end of the line. Having baited the hook with some 
bread which he broke from his loaf, he dropped the line into 
the water and almost instantly it was seized by a great fish. 

They knew it was a great fish, because it pulled so hard 
on the line that it dragged the raft forward even faster than 
the current of the river had carried it. The fish was frightened, 
and it was a strong swimmer. As the other end of the clothes- 
line was bound around the logs he could not get it away, and 
as he had greedily swallowed the gold hook at the first bite he 
could not get rid of that, either. 

When they reached the place where the current had before 
changed, the fish was still swimming ahead in its wild attempt 
to escape. The raft slowed down, yet it did not stop, because 
the fish would not let it. It continued to move in the same 
direction it had been going. As the current reversed and 
rushed backward on its course it failed to drag the raft with it. 
Slowly, inch by inch, they floated on, and the fish tugged and 
tugged and kept them going. 

'I hope he won't give up/' said Ojo anxiously. 'If the 
fish can hold out until the current changes again, we'll be 
all right." 

The fish did not give up, but held the raft bravely on its 
course, till at last the water in the river shifted again and 
floated them the way they wanted to go. But now the captive 
fish found its strength failing. Seeking a refuge, it began to 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 

drag the raft toward the shore. As they did not wish to land 
in this place the boy cut the rope with his pocket-knife and set 
the fish free, just in time to prevent the raft from grounding. 

The next time the river backed up the Scarecrow managed 
to seize the branch of a tree that overhung the water and they 
all assisted him to hold fast and prevent the raft from being 
carried backward. While they waited here, Ojo spied a long 
broken branch lying upon the bank, so he leaped ashore and 
got it. When he had stripped off the side shoots he believed 
he could use the branch as a pole, to guide the raft in case of 

They clung to the tree until they found the water flowing 
the right way, when they let go and permitted the raft to re- 
sume its voyage. In spite of these pauses they were really 
making good progress toward the Winkie Country and having 
found a way to conquer the adverse current their spirits rose 
considerably. They could see little of the country through 
which they were passing, because of the high banks, and they 
met with no boats or other craft upon the surface of the river. 

Once more the trick river reversed its current, but this time 
the Scarecrow was on guard and used the pole to push the raft 
toward a big rock which lay in the water. He believed the 
rock would prevent their floating backward with the current, 
and so it did. They clung to this anchorage until the water 
resumed its proper direction, when they allowed the raft to 
drift on. 


Chapter Twenty-six 

Floating around a bend they saw ahead a high bank of 
water, extending across the entire river, and toward this they 
were being irresistibly carried. There being no way to arrest 
the progress of the raft they clung fast to the logs and let the 
river sweep them on. Swiftly the raft climbed the bank of 
water and slid down on the other side, plunging its edge deep 
into the water and drenching them all with spray. 

As again the raft righted and drifted on, Dorothy and Ojo 
laughed at the ducking they had received; but Scraps was 
much dismayed and the Scarecrow took out his handkerchief 
and wiped the water off the Patchwork Girl's patches as well 
as he was able to. The sun soon dried her and the colors of 
her patches proved good, for they did not run together nor did 
they fade. 

After passing the wall of water the current did not change 
or flow backward any more but continued to sweep them 
steadily forward. The banks of the river grew lower, too, per- 
mitting them to see more of the country, and presently they 
discovered yellow buttercups and dandelions growing amongst 
the grass, from which evidence they knew they had reached the 
Winkie Country. 

'Don't you think we ought to land 4 ?' Dorothy asked the 

;< Pretty soon," he replied. : The Tin Woodman's castle 
is in the southern part of the Winkie Country, and so it can't 
be a great way from here." 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Fearing they might drift too far, Dorothy and Ojo now 
stood up and raised the Scarecrow in their arms, as high as they 
could, thus allowing him a good view of the country. For a 
time he saw nothing he recognized, but finally he cried : 

" There it is ! There it is ! ' 

" What?" asked Dorothy. 

1 The Tin Woodman's tin castle. I can see its turrets glit- 
tering in the sun. 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 means of the pole. It obeyed very well, for the cur- 
rent was more sluggish now, and soon they had reached the 
bank and landed safely. 

The Winkie Country was really beautiful, and across the 
fields they could see afar the silvery sheen of the tin castle. 
With light hearts they hurried toward it, being fully rested by 
their long ride on the river. 

By and by they began to cross an immense field of splendid 
yellow lilies, the delicate fragrance of which was very de- 

'How beautiful they are!" cried Dorothy, stopping to ad- 
mire the perfection of these exquisite flowers. 

Yes," said the Scarecrow, reflectively, 'but we must be 
careful not to crush or injure any of these lilies." 

"Why not?" asked Ojo. 

'The Tin Woodman is very kind-hearted," was the reply, 


Chapter Twenty-six 

: 'and he hates to see any living thing hurt in any way." 

"Are flowers alive?" asked Scraps. 

"Yes, of course. And these flowers belong to the Tin 
Woodman. So, in order not to offend him, we must not tread 
on a single blossom." 

"Once," said Dorothy, "the Tin Woodman stepped on a 
beetle and killed the little creature. That made him very 
unhappy and he cried until his tears rusted his joints, so he 
couldn't move 'em." 

"What did he do then 4 ?" asked Ojo. 

"Put oil on them, until the joints worked smooth again." 

"Oh! " exclaimed the boy, as if a great discovery had flashed 
across his mind. But he did not tell anybody what the dis- 
covery was and kept the idea 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 the Emperor of the Winkies, and Ojo 
and Scraps, who had never seen it before, were filled with 

Tin abounded in the Winkie Country and the Winkies were 
said to be the most skillful tinsmiths in all the world. So the 
Tin Woodman had employed them in building his magnificent 
castle, which was all of tin, from the ground to the tallest tur- 
ret, and so brightly polished that it glittered in the sun's rays 
more gorgeously than silver. Around the grounds of the castle 
ran a tin wall, with tin gates ; but the gates stood wide open be- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

cause the Emperor had no enemies to disturb him. 

When they entered the spacious grounds our travelers 
found more to admire. Tin fountains sent sprays of clear water 
far into the air and there were many beds of tin flowers, all as 
perfectly formed as any natural flowers might be. There were 
tin trees, too, and here and there shady bowers of tin, with tin 
benches and chairs to sit upon. Also, on the sides of the path- 
way leading up to the front door of the castle, were rows of tin 
statuary, very cleverly executed. Among these Ojo recognized 
statues of Dorothy, Toto, the Scarecrow, the Wizard, the 
Shaggy Man, Jack Pumpkinhead and Ozma, all standing upon 
neat pedestals of tin. 

Toto was well acquainted with the residence of the Tin 
Woodman and, being assured a joyful welcome, he ran ahead 
and barked so loudly at the front door that the Tin Woodman 
heard him and came out in person to see if it were really his old 
friend Toto. Next moment the tin man had clasped the Scare- 
crow in a warm embrace and then turned to hug Dorothy. But 
now his eye was arrested by the strange sight of the Patchwork 
Girl, and he gazed upon her in mingled wonder and admiration. 


THE Tin Woodman was 
one of the most important 
personages in all Oz. 
Though Emperor of the 
Winkies, he owed allegi- 
ance to Ozma, who ruled 
all the land, and the girl 
and the tin man were warm 
personal friends. He was 
something of a dandy and 
kept his tin body brilliantly 
polished and his tin joints 
well oiled. Also he was 
very courteous in manner 
and so kind and gentle that 
everyone loved him. The 
Emperor greeted Ojo and 
Scraps with cordial hos- 
pitality and ushered the 
entire party into his hand- 
some tin parlor, where all 
the furniture and pictures 
were made of tin. The 
walls were paneled with 
tin and from the tin ceiling 
hung tin chandeliers. 

-^f^^^^r ^^r 




The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

The Tin Woodman wanted to know, first of all, where 
Dorothy had found the Patchwork Girl, so between them the 
visitors told the story of how Scraps was made, as well as the 
accident to Margolotte and Unc Nunkie and how Ojo had set 
out upon a journey to procure the things needed for the Crooked 
Magician's magic charm. Then Dorothy told of their adven- 
tures in the Quadling Country and how at last they succeeded 
in getting the water from a dark well. 

While the little girl was relating these adventures the Tin 
Woodman sat in an easy chair listening with intense interest, 
while the others sat grouped around him. Ojo, however, had 
kept his eyes fixed upon the body of the tin Emperor, and now 
he noticed that under the joint of his left knee a tiny drop of 
oil was forming. He watched this drop of oil with a fast-beat- 
ing heart, and feeling in his pocket brought out a tiny vial of 
crystal, which he held secreted in his hand. 

Presently the Tin Woodman changed his position, and at 
once Ojo, to the astonishment of all, dropped to the floor and 
held his crystal vial under the Emperor's knee joint. Just then 
the drop of oil fell, and the boy caught it in his bottle and im- 
mediately corked it tight. Then, with a red face and embar- 
rassed manner, he rose to confront the others. 

' What in the world were you doing? " asked the Tin Wood- 

'I caught a drop of oil that fell from your knee-joint," con- 
fessed Ojo. 


Chapter Twenty-seven 

"A drop of oil!' exclaimed the Tin Woodman. 'Dear 
me, how careless my valet must have been in oiling me this 
morning. I'm afraid I shall have to scold the fellow, for I 
can't be dropping oil wherever I go." 

"Never mind," said Dorothy. 'Ojo seems glad to have 
the oil, for some reason." 

"Yes," declared the Munchkin boy, 'I am glad. For one 
of the things the Crooked Magician sent me to get was a drop 
of oil from a live man's body. I had no idea, at first, that there 
was such a thing; but it's now safe in the little crystal vial." 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

1 You are very welcome to it, indeed," said the Tin Wood- 
man. 'Have you now 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 a Woozy's tail, a six-leaved clover, a gill of 
water from a dark well and a drop of oil from a live man's body. 
The last thing is the easiest of all to get, and I 'm sure that my 
dear Unc Nunkie and good Margolotte, as well will soon 
be restored to life." 

The Munchkin boy said this with much pride and pleasure. 

'Good!' exclaimed the Tin Woodman; 'I congratulate 
you. But what is the fifth and last thing you need, in order to 
complete the magic charm 1 ?' 

The left wing of a yellow butterfly," said Ojo. 'In this 
yellow country, and with your kind assistance, that ought to 
be very easy to find." 

The Tin Woodman stared at him in amazement. 

:( Surely you are joking!" he said. 

' No," replied Ojo, much surprised; "I am in earnest." 

'But do you think for a moment that I would permit you, 
or anyone else, to pull the left wing from a yellow butterfly?' 
demanded the Tin Woodman sternly. 

"Why not, sir?" 

' Why not ? You ask me why not ? It would be cruel one 
of the most cruel and heartless deeds I ever heard of," asserted 


Chapter Twenty-seven 

the Tin Woodman. 'The butterflies are among the prettiest 
of all created things, and they are very sensitive to pain. To 
tear a wing from one would cause it exquisite torture and it 
would soon die in great agony. I would not permit such a 
wicked deed under any circumstances!' 

Ojo was astounded at hearing this. Dorothy, too, looked 
grave and disconcerted, but she knew in her heart that the Tin 
Woodman was right. The Scarecrow nodded his head in ap- 
proval of his friend's speech, so it was evident that he agreed 
with the Emperor's decision. Scraps looked from one to another 
in perplexity. 

"Who cares 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 
Patchwork Girl. "But I want to help Ojo, who is my friend, 
to rescue the uncle whom he loves, and I 'd kill a dozen useless 
butterflies to enable him to do that." 

The Tin Woodman sighed regretfully. 

"You have kind instincts," he said, "and with a heart you 
would indeed be a fine creature. I cannot blame you for your 
heartless remark, as you cannot understand the feelings of those 
who possess hearts. I, for instance, have a very neat and re- 
sponsive heart which the wonderful Wizard of Oz once gave 
me, and so I shall never never never permit a poor yellow 
butterfly to be tortured by anyone." 

"The yellow country of the Winkies," said Ojo sadly, '"is 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

the only place in Oz where a yellow butterfly can be found." 

"I'm glad of that," said the Tin Woodman. "As I rule 
the Winkie Country, I can protect my butterflies." 

"Unless I get the wing just one left wing " said Ojo 
miserably, "I can't save Unc Nunkie." 

"Then he must remain a marble statue forever," declared 
the Tin Emperor, firmly. 

Ojo wiped his eyes, for he could not hold back the tears. 

"I'll tell you what to do," said Scraps. "We'll take a 
whole yellow butterfly, alive and well, to the Crooked Ma- 
gician, and let him pull the left wing off." 

"No you won't," said the Tin Woodman. : You can't 
have one of my dear little 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 him- 
self and said: 

' We must all go back to the Emerald City and ask Ozma's 
advice. She 's a wise little girl, our Ruler, and she may find a 
way to help Ojo save his Unc Nunkie." 

So the following morning the party started on the journey 
to the Emerald City, which they reached in due time without 
any important adventure. It was a sad journey for Ojo, for 
without the wing of the yellow butterfly he saw no way to save 
Unc Nunkie unless he waited six years for the Crooked Ma- 
gician to make a new lot of the Powder of Life. The boy was 


Chapter Twenty-seven 

utterly discouraged, and as he walked along he groaned aloud. 

"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 would fail 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 seven days. Do you suppose all the world becomes un- 
lucky one-seventh of the time?' 

"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 most people never notice the good luck 
that comes to them with the number 13, and yet if the least bit 
of bad luck falls on that day, they blame it to the number, and 
not to the proper cause." 

" Thirteen 's my lucky number, too," remarked the Scare- 

"And mine," said Scraps. "I' ve just thirteen patches on my 


"But," continued Ojo, "I'm left-handed." 
" Many of our greatest men are that way," asserted the Em- 
peror. "To be left-handed is usually to be two-handed; the 
right-handed people are usually one-handed." 

"And I've a wart under my right arm," said Ojo. 


The Patch-work Girl of Qz 


'How lucky!' cried the Tin Woodman. 'If it were on 
the end of your nose it 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 Ojo the Unlucky." 

"Then we must turn over a new leaf and call you hence- 
forth Ojo the Lucky," declared the tin man. 'Every reason 
you have given is absurd. But I have noticed that those who 
continually dread ill luck and fear it will overtake them, have 
no time to take advantage of any good fortune that comes 
their way. Make up your mind to be Ojo the Lucky." 

'How can I?' asked the boy, 'when all my attempts to 
save my dear uncle have failed?' 

'Never give up, Ojo," advised Dorothy. 'No one ever 
knows what's going to happen next." 

Ojo did not reply, but he was so dejected that even their 
arrival at the Emerald City failed to interest him. 

The people joyfully cheered the appearance of the Tin 
Woodman, the Scarecrow and Dorothy, who were all three gen- 
eral favorites, and on entering the royal palace word came to 
them from Ozma that she would at once grant them an audience. 
Dorothy told the girl Ruler how successful they had been in 
their quest until they came to the item of the yellow butterfly, 
which the Tin Woodman positively refused to sacrifice to the 
magic potion. 

' He is quite right," said Ozma, who did not seem a bit sur- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

prised. 'Had Ojo told me that one of the things he sought 
was the wing of a yellow butterfly I would have informed him, 
before he started out, that he could never secure it. Then you 
would have been saved the troubles and annoyances of your 
long journey." 

'I didn't mind the journey at all," said Dorothy; "it was 

:< As it has turned out," remarked Ojo, "I can never get the 
things the Crooked Magician sent me for; and so, unless I wait 
the six years for him to make 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 now is, and his four kettles have been de- 
stroyed and his book of recipes burned up. I have also had 
brought here the marble statues of your uncle and of Margo- 
lotte, 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 Ojo eagerly. 

'Wait a moment," replied Ozma, 'for I have something 
more to say. Nothing that happens in the Land of Oz escapes 
the notice of our wise Sorceress, 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 to life, and the accident 


Chapter Twenty-seven 

to Unc Nunkie and Margolotte, and of Ojo's quest and his 
journey with Dorothy. Glinda also knew that Ojo would fail 
to find all the things he sought, so she sent for our Wizard and 
instructed him what to do. Something is going to happen in 
this palace, presently, and that 'something' will, I am sure, 
please you all. And now," continued the girl Ruler, rising 
from her chair, "you may follow me into the next room." 



WHEN Ojo entered the 
room he ran quickly to the 
statue of Unc Nunkie and 
kissed the marble face af- 


'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 the assem- 
bled company quite amazed 

Aside from the marble 
statues of Unc Nunkie and 
Margolotte, the Glass Cat 
was there, curled up on a 
rug; and the Woozy was 
there, sitting on its square 
hind legs and looking on 
the scene with solemn in- 
terest; and there was the 
Shaggy Man, in a suit of 
shaggy pea-green satin, and 
at a table sat the little 
Wizard, looking quite im- 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

portant and as if he knew much more than he cared to tell. 

Last of all, Dr. Pipt was there, and the Crooked Magician 
sat humped up in a chair, seeming very dejected but keeping 
his eyes fixed on the lifeless form of his wife Margolotte, whom 
he fondly loved but whom he now feared was lost to him forever. 

Ozma took a chair which Jellia Jamb wheeled forward for 
the Ruler, and back of her stood the Scarecrow, the Tin Wood- 
man and Dorothy, as well as the Cowardly Lion and the Hun- 
gry Tiger. The Wizard now arose and made a low bow to 
Ozma and another less deferent bow to the assembled company. 

' Ladies and gentlemen and beasts," he said, ' ' I beg to an- 
nounce that our Gracious Ruler has permitted me to obey the 
commands of the great Sorceress, Glinda the Good, whose 
humble Assistant I am proud to be. W"e have discovered that 
the Crooked Magician has been indulging in his magical arts 
contrary to Law, and therefore, by Pvoyal Edict, I hereby de- 
prive him of all power to work magic in the future. He is no 
longer a crooked 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. Pipt and instantly every crooked limb straightened 
out and became perfect. The former magician, with a cry of 
joy, sprang to his feet, looked at himself in wonder, and then 
fell back in his chair and watched the Wizard with fascinated 

'The Glass Cat, which Dr. Pipt lawlessly made," continued 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

the Wizard, 'is a pretty cat, but its pink brains made it so 
conceited that it was a disagreeable companion to everyone. 
So the other day I took away the pink brains and replaced them 
with transparent ones, and now the Glass Cat is so modest 
and well behaved that Ozma has decided to keep her in the 
palace as a pet." 

'I thank you," said the cat, in a soft voice. 

: The Woozy has proved himself a good Woozy and a 
faithful friend," the Wizard went on, 'so we will send him 
to the Royal Menagerie, where he will have good care and 
plenty to eat all his life." 

'Much obliged," said the Woozy. That beats being 
fenced up in a lonely forest and starved." 

'As for the Patchwork Girl," resumed the Wizard, 'she 
is so remarkable in appearance, and so clever and good tem- 
pered, that our Gracious Ruler intends to preserve her care- 
fully, as one of the curiosities of the curious Land of Oz. 
Scraps may live in the palace, or wherever she pleases, and be 
nobody's 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 face all sorts of dangers, in order that he might 
rescue him. The Munchkin boy has a loyal and generous heart 
and has done his best to restore Unc Nunkie to life. He has 
failed, but there are others more powerful than the Crooked 


The Patch-work Girl of Oz 

Magician, and there are more ways than Dr. Pipt knew of to 
destroy the charm of the Liquid of Petrifaction. Glinda the 
Good has told me of one way, and you shall now learn how 
great is the knowledge and power of our peerless Sorceress ' 

As he said this the Wizard advanced to the statue of Mar 
golotte and made a magic pass, at the same time muttering a 
magic word that none could hear distinctly. At once the woman 
moved, turned her head wonderingly this way and that, to note 
all who stood before her, and seeing Dr. Pipt, ran forward and 
threw herself into her husband's outstretched arms. 

Then the Wizard made the magic pass and spoke the magic 
word before the statue of Unc Nunkie. The old Munchkin 
immediately came to life and with a low bow to the Wizard 
said: "Thanks." 

But now Ojo rushed up and threw his arms joyfully about 
his uncle, and the old man hugged his little nephew tenderly 
and stroked his hair ?nd wiped away the boy's tears with a 
handkerchief, for Ojo was crying from pure happiness. 

Ozma came forward to congratulate them. 

'I have given to you, my dear Ojo and Unc Nunkie, a 
nice house just outside the walls of the Emerald City," she said, 
'and there you shall make your future home and be under my 

'Didn't I say you were Ojo the Lucky ?' : asked the Tin 
Woodman, as everyone crowded around to shake Ojo's hand. 
; Yes; and it is true!" replied Ojo, gratefully.