 Chapter 19 of the Patchwork Girl of Oz This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Monica. The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Borm. Chapter 19 Trouble with the Totten Hots A day's journey from the Emerald City brought the little band of adventurers to the home of Jack Pumpkinhead, which was a house formed from the shell of an immense pumpkin. Jack had made it himself, and was very proud of it. There was a door, and several windows, and through the top was stuck a 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 finer house to live in had he wanted it. For Osmo loved the stupid fellow, who had been her earliest companion, but Jack preferred his pumpkin house as it matched himself very well. And in this he was not so stupid, after all. The body of this remarkable person was made of wood, branches of trees of various sizes 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 pumpkinhead was set, and the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth were carved on the skin of the pumpkin, very like a child's jack-o-lantern. The house of this interesting creation stood in the center of a vast pumpkin field, where the vines grew in profusion and wore 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 domicile, 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. There is no accounting for tastes, remarked the pumpkinhead with a sigh, and 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. 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, moors the pity, and in time they spoil. That is why I grow such a great field of pumpkins that I may select a new head whenever necessary. Who calves 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 checkered sun bonnet, as she knew they were best fitted for travel. Ojo also had brought along his basket, to which Osma had added a bottle of square meal tablets and some fruit. But Jack Pumpkin had 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 grass 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 pumpkin head 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 pumpkin head considered the matter gravely. That is going to be a difficult task, he said, 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 waters 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 jill. How much is a jill? Why a jill is a jill, 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 jills, I think. One is a girl, and the other is a jilly flower, 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 jill is, but I've brought along a gold flask that holds a pint. That's more than a jill, I'm sure, and the crooked magician may measure it to suit himself. But the thing that bothers 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, he said. You must go to the mountains, where rocks and caverns are. And where is that? asked O'Joan. In the quaddling country, which lies south of here, replied the scarecrow. I've known all along we must go to the mountains. So have I, said Dorothy. But goodness me, the quaddling country is full of dangers, declared Jack. I've never been there myself, but I have, said the scarecrow. I've faced the dreadful hammerheads, which have no arms and buttoe like a goat, and I've faced the fighting trees, which bend down their branches to pound and whip you, and had many other adventures there. It's a wild country, remarked Dorothy soberly, and if we go there, we're sure to have troubles of our own. But I guess we'll have to go, if we want that jill of water from the dark well. So they said goodbye to the pumpkin head, 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 Osmar and owed her allegiance, was so wild and secluded, that many queer people 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 invaded their domains encountered many dangers from them. It was a two days journey from Jack Pumpkin Head's house to the edge of the quaddling country. For neither Dorothy nor Ojo could walk very fast, and they often stopped by the wayside to rest. The first night they slept on the broad fields, among the buttercups and daisies, and the scarecrow covered the children with a gauze blanket taken from his knapsack, so they would not be killed 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. Our travellers preferred to attempt to climb these rocks by daylight, and they realised that for a time, this would be their last time 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 burnt 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 more creatures, very like jumping jacks when their boxes are unhooked, until fully a hundred stood gathered around our little group of travellers. By this time, Dorothy had discovered they were people, tiny and curiously formed, but still people. Their skins were dusky, and their hairs stood straight up, like wires, and was brilliant scarlet in colour. 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. Turtle 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, jumppity, 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 altogether, in a sort of chanting chorus, the words being as follows. Where the jolly tottenhots we do not like the day, but in the night tears our delight to gamble, skip, and play. We hate the sun and from it run, the moon is cool and clear, so on this spot each tottenhot waits for it to appear, where every one talk full of fun and full of mischief too, but if you're gay and with us play, we'll do no harm to you. Glad to meet you, tottenhots, said the scarecrow solemnly, but you mustn't expect us to play with you all night, for we've travelled 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 strawman whirl around so easily. So the tottenhot raised the scarecrow high in the air and tossed him over the heads of the crowd. Someone 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 basketball. Presently another imp sees scraps and began to throw her about in the same way. They found her a little heavier than the scarecrow, but still light enough to be tossed like a sofa cushion. And they were enjoying the sport immensely when Dorothy, angry and indignant at the treatment her friends were receiving, rushed among the tottenhots and began slapping and pushing them until she had rescued the scarecrow and the patchwork girl and held them close on either side of her. Perhaps she would not have accomplished this victory so easily had not Toto helped her, barking and snapping at the bare legs of the imps until they were glad to flee from his attack. As for Ojo, some of the creatures had attempted to toss him also, but finding his body too heavy, they threw him to the ground and a row of the imp sat on him and held him from assisting Dorothy in her battle. The little brown folks were much surprised at being attacked by the girl and the dog and one or two who had been slapped hardest began to cry. Then suddenly they gave a shout altogether 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 I'm really obliged to the tottenhots for their kind treatment. I feel much the same way, said scraps. My cotton stuffing had sad a good deal with the days walking and they've loosened it up until I feel as plump as a sausage. But the play was a little rough and I'd had quite enough of it when you interfered. Six of them sat on me, said Ojo, but as they are so little, they didn't hurt me much. Just then the roof of the house in front of them opened and the tottenhots stuck his head up very cautiously and looked at the strangers. 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 bag grudges, I forgive you. So do I, added scraps, that is, if you behave yourself after this. It was just a little rough house, that's all. Said the tottenhot. But the question is, not if we 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 by a savage beast or slapped by an angry girl. That slapping hurts like 60. Some of my folks are crying about it. So here's the proposition. You let us alone and we'll let you alone. You begin it, declared Dorothy. Well, you ended it, so we won't argue the matter. May we come out again, or are you still cruel and slappy? Tell you what we'll do, said Dorothy. We're all tired and want to sleep until morning. If you let us get into your house and stay there until daylight, you can play outside all you want. 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 hall and looked in, but could see nothing because it was so dark. But if the tottenhots slept there all day, the children thought they could sleep there at night. So Ojo lowered himself down and found it was not very deep. There's a soft cushion all over. He said, come on in. Dorothy handed Toto to the boy and then climbed in herself. After her came scraps and 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 outside. But Dorothy and Ojo, being wary from their journey, were soon fast asleep. Toto kept an eye open, however, and uttered low threatening growls whenever the racket made by the creatures outside became too boisterous, and the scarecrow and the patchwork girl sat leaning against the wall and talking in whispers all night long. No one disturbed the travellers until daylight, when in popped the tottenhot who owned the place, and invited them to vacate his premises. End of Chapter 19 Chapter 20 of the Patchwork Girl of Oz This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum Chapter 20 The Captive Upe As they were preparing to leave, Dorothy asked, can you tell us where there is a dark well? Never heard of such a thing, said the tottenhot. We live our lives in the dark mostly and sleep in the daytime, but we've never seen a dark well or anything like one. Does anyone live on those mountains beyond here? asked the scarecrow. Lots of people, but you'd better not visit them. We never go there, was the reply. What are the people like? Dorothy inquired. Can't say. We've been told to keep away from the mountain paths, and so we obey. This sandy desert is good enough for us, and we're not disturbed here, declared the tottenhot. So they left the man snuggling down to sleep in his dusky dwelling, and went out into the sunshine, taking the path that led toward the rocky places. They soon found it hard climbing, for the rocks were uneven and full of sharp points and edges, and now there was no path at all. Climbing 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 rocks seemed to have split in two and left high walls on either side. Suppose 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 said, Look out for you. The girl eyed the sign a moment and turned to the scarecrow asking, Who is youp or what is youp? The straw man shook his head, then looked at Toto and the dog said, Wolf, only way to find out is to go on, said scraps. This being quite true, they went on. As they proceeded, the walls of rock on either side grew higher and higher. Presently they came upon another sign which read, Beware the captive youp. Why, as for that, remarked Dorothy, If youp is a captive, there's no need to beware of him. Whatever youp happens 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 head. Still, said scraps reflectively, Youp de hoop de loop de goop, who put noodles in the soup. We may beware, but we don't care, and dare go where we scare the youp. 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 youp, unless he is dangerous, observed the scarecrow in a puzzled tone. Never mind, we'll find out all about him when we get to where he is, replied the little girl. The narrow canyon turned and twisted this way and that, and the rift was so small, that they 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 youp. 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 tiptoes 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. Mr. Youp, his cave, the largest untamed giant in captivity, height, twenty-one feet, and yet he has but two feet, weight, one thousand six hundred forty pounds, but he waits all the time. Age, four hundred years, and up, as they say in the department store advertisements. Temper, fierce, and ferocious, except when asleep. Appetite, ravenous, prefers meat people and orange marmalade. Strangers approaching this cave do so at their own peril. P.S., don't feed the giant yourself. Very well, said Ojo, with a sigh, let's go back. It's a long way back, declared Dorothy. So it is, remarked the scarecrow, and it means a tedious climb 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. Mr. Youp 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. Youp 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 decorated with an enormous pink ostrich feather carefully curled. Yo-ho! he said in a deep bass voice. I smell dinner. I think you are mistaken, replied the scarecrow. There is no orange marmalade around here. Ah, but I eat other things, asserted Mr. Youp. That is, I eat them when I can get them. But this is a lonely place, and no good meat has passed by my cave for many years, so I'm hungry. Haven't you eaten anything in many years? asked Dorothy. Nothing except six ants and a monkey. I thought the monkey would taste like meat people, but the flavor was different. I hope you will taste better, for you seem plump and tender. Oh, I'm not going to be eaten, said Dorothy. Why not? 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 extended 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. A scarecrow? I don't care a straw for a scarecrow. Who is that bright-colored delicacy behind you? Me, asked scraps, I'm a patchwork girl, and I'm stuffed with cotton. Dear me, sighed the giant in a disappointed tone. That reduces 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 Mr. Upe 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 approached the giant's cave, this time moving swiftly forward. It turned out about the way the scarecrow had planned. Mr. Upe 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 scarecrow after them with one hand and grabbed scraps with the other. The poor scarecrow went whirling through the air, and so cleverly was he aimed, that he struck 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 Mr. Upe threw the patchwork girl at them. Down went all three again in a heave 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. Mr. Upe is very impolite, declared scraps. He jarred me terribly. It's lucky my stitches are so fine and strong, for otherwise such harsh treatment might rip me up the back. Allow me to apologize for the giant, said the scarecrow, raising the patchwork girl to her feet and dusting her skirt with his stuffed hands. Mr. Upe 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. Of course, said the little girl, when they had walked away 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 anymore, said Ojo gravely. They must have had good courage to climb all those rocks, for after getting out of the canyon they encountered more rock hills to be surmounted. Toto could jump from one rock to another quite easily, but the others had to creep and climb with care, so that after a whole day of such work, Dorothy and Ojo found themselves very tired. As they gazed upward at the great mass of tumbled rocks that covered the steep incline, Dorothy gave a little groan, and said, That's going to be a terrible hard climb, scarecrow. I wish we could find the dark well without so much trouble. Suppose, said Ojo, you wait here and let me do the climbing, for it's on my account we're searching for the dark well. Then, if I don't find anything, I'll come back and join you. No, replied the little girl, shaking her head positively. We'll all go together, for that way we can help each other. If you went alone, something might happen to you, Ojo. So they began the climb and found it indeed difficult for a way, but presently, in creeping over the big cracks, they found a path at their feet which wound in and out among the masses of rock and was quite smooth and easy to walk upon. As the path gradually ascended the mountain, although in a roundabout way, they decided to follow it. This must be the road to the country of the hoppers, said the scarecrow. Who are the hoppers? asked Dorothy. Some people Jack Pumpkin had told me about, he replied. I didn't hear him, replied the girl. No, you were asleep, explained the scarecrow, but he told scraps in me that the hoppers and the horners live on this mountain. He said in the mountain, declared scraps, but of course he meant on it. Didn't he say what the hoppers and horners were like, inquired Dorothy? No, he only said there were two separate nations and that the horners were the most important. Well, if we go to their country, we'll find out all about him, said the girl, but I've never heard Osma mention those people, so they can't be very important. Is this mountain in the land of Oz, asked scraps? Course it is, answered Dorothy, it's in the south country of the quadlings. When one comes to the edge of Oz, in any direction, there's nothing more to be seen at all. One she could see sandy desert all around Oz, but now it's different and no other people can see us any more than we can see them. If the mountain is under Osma's rule, why doesn't she know about the hoppers and the horners? 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 them. In the middle of the country it's different, 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 Scarecrow. Yes, admitted the straw man, I've been considerable of a traveler in my time, and I like to explore strange places. I find I learn much more by traveling than by staying at home. During this conversation they had been walking up the steep pathway and now found themselves well up on the mountain. They could see nothing around them, for the rocks beside their path were higher than their heads, nor could they see 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. A head 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 somewhere, said the Scarecrow, wrinkling his forehead in deep thought. 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 for a little rest, for that's a dreadful 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? 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 eagerness. Let's go in, Scarecrow, because 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 strawman, 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 anywhere visible. The passage ran straight for a little way, and they made a bend to the right and another sharp turn to the left, after which it went straight again. But there were no side passages, so they could not lose their way. After proceeding some distance, Toto, who had gone on ahead, began 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 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 overhead 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 surrender, for it's the proper thing to do. I like to do everything proper, for it saves one a lot of trouble. It does indeed, said Dorothy. Please tell us who you are. I'm hip hopper, hip hopper the champion. Champion what? she asked in surprise. Champion wrestler, I'm a very strong man, and that ferocious animal which you are so kindly holding is the first living thing that has ever conquered me. And you are a hopper? she continued. Yes, my 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 earth. Where's the horner country, Ojoe 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 horners. That's too bad, said the scarecrow. What seems to be the trouble? Why, one of them made a very insulting remark about my people. He said we were lacking in understanding, because we had only one leg to a person. I can't see that legs have anything to do with understanding things. The horners 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, one nose and mouth. Two legs are quite unnecessary, and they spoil one shape. But how can you walk with only one leg? asked Ojoe. 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 horner country without going through the city of the hoppers? Yes, there is another path from the rocky lowlands, outside the mountain, that leads straight to the entrance of the horner country. But it's a long way around, so you'd better come with me. Perhaps 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 ask him to lead the way. This he did in a series of hops, and he moved so swiftly in the strange manner, that those with two legs had to run to keep up with him. End of Chapter 21. Chapter 22 of The Patchwork Girl of Oz This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum Chapter 22. The Joking Horners It was not long before they left the passage, and came to a great cave, so high that it must have reached nearly to the top of the 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 marble, white with veins of delicate colors running through it, and the roof was arched and fantastic and beautiful. Built beneath this vast dome was a pretty village, not very large, but there seemed not more than fifty houses altogether, and the dwellings were of marble and artistically designed. No grass nor flowers nor trees grew in this cave, so the yards surrounding the houses carved in designs both were smooth and bare, and had low walls around them to mark their boundaries. In the streets and 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. All 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 surrendered 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 horners. At this all the hoppers looked downcast and sad. Several more had joined the group by this time and quite a crowd of curious men, women, and children surrounded the strangers. This war with our neighbors is a terrible thing, remarked one of the women. Someone is almost sure to get hurt. Why do you say that, madame? inquired the scarecrow. Because the horns of our enemies are sharp, and in battle they will try to stick those horns into our warriors, she replied. How many horns do the horners have? asked Dorothy. Each has one horn in the center of his forehead, was the answer. Oh, then their unicorns, declared the scarecrow. No, they're horners. We never go to war with them if we can help it on account of their dangerous horns. But this insult was so great and so unprovoked that our brave men decided 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. Whenever we fight the horners, our plan is to push them back, for our arms are longer than theirs. Then you are better armed, said scraps. Yes, but they have those terrible horns, and unless we are careful they prick us with the points. Return the champion with a shutter. 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 these horners, 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 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 horners. So they followed the champion and several others through the streets, and just beyond the village came to a very high picket fence, built all of marble, which seemed to divide the great cave into two equal parts. But the part inhabited by the horners was in no way as grand an appearance as that of the hoppers. Instead of being marble, the walls and roof were of dull gray rock, and the square houses were plainly made of the same material. But in extent, the city was much larger than that of the hoppers, and the streets were thronged with numerous people who busied themselves in various ways. Looking through the open pickets of the fence, our friends watched the horners, who did not know they were being watched by strangers, and found them very unusual in appearance. They were little folks in size, and had bodies round as balls, and short legs and arms. Their heads were round too, and they had long pointed ears, and a horn set in the center of the forehead. The horns did not seem 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. The skins of the horners were light brown, but they wore snow-white robes and were barefooted. 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 horners was yet aware of the presence of strangers, who watched the little brown people for a time, and then went to the big gate in the center of the dividing fence. It was locked on both sides, and over the latch was a sign reading, War is Declared. Can't we go through? asked Dorothy. Not now, answered the champion. I think, said the scarecrow, that if I could talk with those horners, they would apologize to you, and then there would be no need to fight. Can't you 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'll undertake to do the throwing, 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 distance. 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 faced downward, the scarecrow might have managed to free himself, but lying on his back on the picket, his hands waved in the air of the horner country, while his feet 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. Champion? The champion shook his head. I don't know, he confessed. If he could scare horners as well as he does crows, it might be a good idea to leave him there. This is terrible, said Ojo, almost ready to cry. I suppose it's because I am Ojo the unlucky that everyone who tries to help me gets into trouble. You are lucky to have anyone to help you, declared Dorothy. But don't worry, we'll rescue the scarecrow somehow. I know how, answered 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 of the fence, I'll pull our friend off the picket and toss him down to you. All right, said the champion, and he picked up the patchwork girl and threw her in the same manner he had the scarecrow. He must have used more strength this time, however, for scraps sailed far over the top of the fence, and, without being able to grab the scarecrow at all, tumbled to the ground in the Horner country, where her stuffed body knocked over two men and a woman, and made a crowd that had collected their run-like rabbits to get away from her. Seeing the next moment that she was harmless, the people slowly returned and gathered around the patchwork girl, regarding her with astonishment. One of them wore a 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 of 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, I am the chief of the horners, and my name is Jack. Of course, little Jack Horner, I might have known it, but the reason I vulplined 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 pardon, said Scraps. If you don't, they'll probably hop over here and conquer you. We're not afraid, as long as the gate is locked, declared the chief, and we didn't insult them at all. One of us made a joke that the stupid hoppers couldn't see. The chief smiled as he said this, and the smile made his face look quite jolly. What was the joke? asked Scraps. A horners said they have less understanding than we, because they've only one leg. You see the point, don't you? If you stand on your legs, and your legs are under you, then your legs are your understanding. 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 understanding than we, who have two legs. The chief wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes with the bottom hem of his white robe, and all the other horners wiped their eyes on their robes, for they had laughed just as heartily as their chief at the absurd joke. Then, said Scraps, their understanding of the understanding you meant led to the misunderstanding. Exactly, and so there's no need for us to apologize. Returned the chief. No need for an apology, perhaps, but much need for an explanation, said Scraps, decidedly. You don't want or do you? Not if we can help it, admitted Jack Horner. The question is, who's going to explain the joke to the horners? You know it spoils any joke to be obliged to explain it, and this is the best joke I ever heard. Who made the joke? asked Scraps. Dixie Horner. He is working in the mines just now, but he'll 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 Dixie isn't too long. No, he's short. He's shorter than I am. Ha-ha-ha! Say, that's a better joke than Dixie's. He won't be too long, because he's short. He-he-ho! The other horners, who were standing by, roared with laughter, and seemed to like their chief's joke as much as he did. Scraps thought it was odd that they could be so easily amused, but decided there could be little harm in people who laughed so merrily. End of Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Of The Patchwork Girl of Oz This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum Chapter 23 Peace Is Declared Come with me to my dwelling, and I'll introduce you to my daughters, said the chief. We're bringing them up according to a book of rules that was written 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 condition, 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 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 designs 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 horners 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 cozy. 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 as mine is. Why don't you use it on your streets, then, and the outside of your houses to make them as pretty as they are within? she inquired. Outside? Who cares for the outside of anything? asked the chief. We horners don't live on the outside of our homes, we live inside. Many people are like those stupid hoppers who love to make an outside show. I suppose you 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 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 in care, and we pay no attention to outside show. Seems to me, said scraps musingly, it would be better to make it all pretty inside and out. Seems? Why, your all seems, 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 horner girls all arose and made a polite curtsy, after which they resumed their seats and rearranged their robes properly. Why do they sit so still and all in a row? asked Scraps. Because it is ladylike and proper, replied the chief. But some are just children, poor things. Don't they ever run around and play and laugh and have a good time? No, indeed, said the chief. That would be improper in young ladies, as well as in those who will some time 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 Scraps. Well, sometimes it is and sometimes it isn't, replied the horner after considering the question. By curbing such inclinations in my daughters, we keep on the safe side. Once in a while I make a good joke, as you have heard, and then I permit my daughters to laugh decorously, but they are never allowed to make a joke themselves. That old bachelor who made the rules ought to be skinned alive, declared Scraps, and would have said more on the subject, had not the door opened to admit a little hornerman whom the chief introduced as Dixie. What's up, chief? asked Dixie, winking 19 times at the 19 girls, who demurely cast down their eyes because their father was looking. The chief told the man that his joke had not been understood by the dull hoppers, who had become so angry that they had declared war, so the only way to avoid a terrible battle was to explain the joke so that they could understand it. All right, replied Dixie, 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 Dixie 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. Dixie 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 stand-underings, so to speak. Do you understand that? The hoppers thought it over carefully, then one said, That is clear enough, but where does the joke come in? Dorothy laughed where 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 horners could not hear them. You know, she then explained, those neighbors of yours are not very bright poor things, and what they think is a joke isn't a joke at all. It's true, don't you see? True that we have less understanding, replied the champion. 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'll tell you what to do, continued Dorothy. Laugh at their poor joke and tell them it's pretty good for a horner. 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 horners, 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, laughing as loud and as hard as they could, although they didn't feel like laughing a bit. The horners were much surprised. That's a fine joke for a horner, and we are much pleased with it, said the champion speaking between the pickets, but please don't do it again. I won't, replied Dixie. If I think of another such joke, I'll try to forget it. Good, said the chief horner, the war is over and peace is declared. There was much joyful shouting on both sides of the fence, and the gate was unlocked and thrown wide open, so that scraps was able to rejoin her friends. What about the scarecrow? she asked Dorothy. We must get him down somehow or other, was the reply. Perhaps the horners can find a way, suggested Ojo, so they all went through the gate, and Dorothy asked the chief horner how they could get the scarecrow off the fence. The chief didn't know how, but Dixie said, a ladder's the thing. Have you won? asked Dorothy. To be sure, we use ladders in our minds, said he. Then he ran away to get the ladder, and while he was gone, the horners gathered around and welcomed the strangers to their country. For through them a great war had been avoided. In a little while Dixie 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 girl. As soon as he was on his feet and standing on solid ground, the scarecrow said, Much obliged, I feel much better. I'm not stuck on that picket anymore. The horners began to laugh, thinking this was a joke, but the scarecrow shook himself and padded 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 strawman's back, scraps examined the other parts of him. One of his legs is ripped too, she exclaimed. Oh ho, cried little Dixie, that's bad. Give him the needle and thread, and let him mend his ways. Ha ha ha, laughed the chief, and the other horners at once roared with laughter. What's funny, inquired the scarecrow sternly. Don't you see? asked Dixie, 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 had no idea I could make such a fine joke. Just wonderful, echoed the chief. How do you manage to do it, Dixie? I don't know, said Dixie 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 Dixie, 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 Dixie to the mine. When Dorothy had padded the strawman into shape again, he declared he felt as good as new, and equal to further adventures. Still, said he, I prefer not to do picket duty again. High life doesn't seem to agree with my constitution. And then they hurried away to escape the laughter of the horners, who thought this was another joke. Chapter 24 Ojo finds the dark well They now followed Dixie to the farther end of the Great Cave, beyond the Horner City, where there were several round dark holes leading into the ground, in a slanting direction. Dixie went to one of these holes and said, Here is the mine in which lies the dark well you're seeking. Follow me and step carefully, and I'll lead you to the place. He went in first, and after him came Ojo, and then Dorothy, with the scarecrow behind her. The patchwork girl entered last of all, for Toto kept close behind his little mistress. A few steps beyond the mouth of the opening it was pitch dark. You won't lose your way, though, said the Horner, for there's only one way to go. The 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. And once she began to slide downward so swiftly, that when she came to the scarecrow, she knocked him off his feet, and sent him tumbling against Dorothy, who tripped up Ojo. The boy fell against the Horner, so that all went tumbling 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 Dixie, when they had all regained their feet, I will show you where the dark well is. This is a big place, but if we hold fast to each other, we won't get lost. They took hold of hands, and the Horner led them into a dark corner where he halted. Be careful, he said warningly. The well is at your feet. All 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, managed to fill the flask with the unseen water that was in the well. Then he screwed the top of the flask firmly in place, and put the precious water in his pocket. All right, he said again in a glad voice, now we can go back. They returned to the mouth of the tunnel, and began to creep cautiously up the incline. This time they made scraps stay behind, for fear she would slip again, but they all managed to get up in safety, and the munchkin boy was very happy when he stood in the Horner City and realized that the water from the dark well, which he and his friends had traveled so far to secure, was safe in his jacket pocket. End of Chapter 24 Read by Eric Leach, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Chapter 25 of The Patchwork Girl of Oz This is a LibriVox recording, all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Eric Leach The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum Chapter 25 They Bribed the Lazy Quadling Now, said Dorothy, as they stood on the mountain path, having left behind them the cave in which dwelt the hoppers and the Horners, I think we must find a road into the country of the Winkies, for there is where Ojo wants to go next. Is there such a road? asked the Scarecrow. I don't know, she replied. I suppose we can go back the way we came to Jack Pumpkinhead's house, and then turn into the Winky Country, but that seems like running around a haystack, doesn't it? Yes, said the Scarecrow. What is the next thing Ojo must get? A yellow butterfly, answered the boy. That means the Winky 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 Emperor of the Winkies, and will help us to find what Ojo wants. Of course, replied the Scarecrow, brightening at the suggestion, the Tin Woodman will do anything we ask him, for he's one of my dearest friends. I believe we can take a cross cut 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 wayside had red blossoms. This part of the Quadling Country seemed peaceful and prosperous, if rather lonely, and the road was more distinct and easier to follow. But just as they were congratulating themselves upon the progress they had made, they came upon a broad river which swept along between high banks, and here the road ended, and there was no bridge of any sort to allow them to cross. This is queer muse Dorothy, looking at the water reflectively. Why should there be any road if the river stops everyone walking along it? Wow! said Toto, gazing earnestly into her face. That's the best answer you'll get, declared the scarecrow with his comical smile, for no one knows any more than Toto about this road. Said scraps, every time I see a river I have chills that make me shiver, for I never can forget all the waters very wet. If my patches get a soak, it will be a sorry joke, so to swim I'll never try till I find the water dry. Try to control yourself, scraps, said Ojo. You're getting 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 scarecrow, but I don't see any. Couldn't we make a raft, suggested Ojo? There's nothing to make one of, answered Dorothy. Wow! said Toto again, and Dorothy saw he was looking along the 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 across 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 in all 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 quadling, 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 whose all patches seems to be alive too. Very much so, declared Scraps, making a face at him, but that isn't your affair, you know. I have a right to be surprised, haven't I, asked the man meekly. I'm not sure, but anyhow you've no right to say I'm dreadful. The scarecrow, who is a gentleman of great wisdom, thinks I'm beautiful, retorted Scraps. Never mind all that, said Dorothy. Tell us, good quadling, how we can get across the river. I don't know, replied the quadling. Don't you ever cross it, asked the girl. Never. Don't travellers 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 boat? The man shook his head. Nor a raft. Where does this river go to, asked Dorothy. That way, answered the man, pointing with one hand. It goes into the country of the Winkies, which is ruled by the teen emperor, who must be a mighty magician because he's all made of tin, and yet he is 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 Winky 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 they all looked thoughtfully and wondered what could be done. Why can't the man make us a raft? asked Dojo. Will you, inquired Dorothy, turning to the quaddling? 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 emerald ring, promised the girl. No, I don't care for emeralds. If it were a ruby, which is the colour 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 roose, and lemon jelly, all made into one little tablet that you can swallow without trouble. Without trouble exclaimed the quaddling much interested, then those tablets would be fine for a lazy man. It's such hard work to chew when you eat. I'll give you six of those tablets if you'll help us make a raft, promised the scarecrow. They're a combination of food which people 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, quaddling? 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 today, 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 quaddling 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 quaddling'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'd wanted for firewood, and the boards she had intended to mend the shed with, and a lot of gold nails, she became very angry. Scraps wanted to shake the woman to make her behave, but Dorothy talked to her in a gentle tone, and told the quaddling's wife she was a princess of Oz, and a friend of Osma, 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 quaddling 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. Chapter 26 Of The Patchwork Girl of Oz This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Eric Leach The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum Chapter 26 The Trick River Next morning they pushed the raft into the water and all got aboard. The quaddling 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 towards the Winky Country. The little house of the quaddlings was out of sight almost before they had cried their goodbyes, and the scarecrow said in a pleased voice, it won't take us long to get to the Winky Country at this rate. They had floated several miles down the stream and were enjoying the ride when suddenly the raft slowed up, stopped short, and then began to float back the way it had come. Why, what's wrong? asked Dorothy in astonishment, but they were all just as bewildered as she was, and at first no one could answer the question. Soon, however, they realized the truth, that the current of the river had reversed and the water was now flowing in the opposite direction toward the mountains. They began to recognize the scenes they had passed, and by and by they came in sight of the little house of the quaddlings again. The man was standing on the riverbank and he called to them, how do you do? Glad to see you again. I forgot to tell you that the river changes its direction every little while, sometimes it flows one way, and sometimes the other. They had no time to answer him for the raft was swept past the house and a long distance on the other side of it. We're going just the way we don't want to go, said Dorothy, and I guess the best thing we can do is to get to land before we're carried any farther. 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 wondering what could be done, the raft slowed down, stopped, and began drifting the other way in the direction it had first followed. After a time they repass the quaddling 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 winky 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 helpless they simply sat still. Ojo, who was on the front of the raft, looked over into the water and thought he saw some large fishes swimming about. He found a loose end of the clothes line which fastened the logs together, and taking a gold nail from his pocket he bent it nearly double to form a hook and tied it to the end of the line. Having baited the hook with some bread which he broke from his loaf, he dropped the line into the water and almost instantly it was seized by a great fish. They knew it was a great fish because it pulled so hard on the line that it dragged the raft forward even faster than the current of the river had carried it. The fish was frightened and it was a strong swimmer. As the other end of the 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 could hold out till the current changes again we'll be all right. The fish did not give up but held the raft bravely on its course, till at last the water in the river shifted again and floated them the way they wanted to go. But now the captive fish found its strength failing. Seeking a refuge, it began to drag the raft toward the shore. As they did not wish to land in this place, the boy 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 leapt to shore and got it. When he had stripped off the side shoots, he believed he could use the branch as a pole to guide the raft in case of emergency. They clung to the tree until they found the water flowing the right way when they let go and permitted the raft to resume its voyage. In spite of these pauses they were really making good progress toward the winky 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. 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 rided 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 anymore, but continued to sweep them steadily forward. The banks of the river grew lower too, permitting them to see more of the country, and presently they discovered yellow buttercups and dandelions growing among the grass, from which evidence they knew they had reached the winky country. Don't you think we ought to land? Dorothy asked the scarecrow. Pretty soon he replied, the Tin Woodman's castle is in the southern part of the winky country, and so it can't be a great way from here. Fearing they might drift too far, Dorothy and Ojo now stood up and raised the scarecrow in 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? The Tin Woodman's castle. I can see its turrets glittering 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 current was more sluggish now, and soon they had reached the bank and landed safely. The winky 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 delightful. How beautiful they are, cried Dorothy, stopping to admire the perfection of these exquisite flowers. Yes, said the scarecrow reflectively, but we must be careful not to crush or injure any of these lilies. Why not, asked Ojo? The Tin Woodman is very kind-hearted, was the reply, 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 them. What did he do then? asked Ojo. Put oil on them until the joints worked smooth again. Oh! exclaimed the boy as if a great discovery had flashed across his mind, but he did not tell anybody what the discovery was and kept the idea to himself. 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 amazement. Tin abounded in the Winky Country, and the Winkies were said to be the most skillful Tin Smiths 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 turret, and so brightly polished that it glittered in the sun's rays more gorgeously than silver. Around the grounds of the castle ran a tin wall with tin gates, but the gates stood wide open because the Emperor had no enemies to disturb him. When they entered the spacious grounds, our travellers 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 pathway leading up to the front door of the castle were rows of tin statuary, very cleverly executed. Among these, Ojo recognized statues of Dorothy, Toto, the Scarecrow, the Wizard, the Shaggy Man, Jack Pumpkinhead, and Osma, all standing upon neat pedestals of tin. Toto was well acquainted with the residents of the Tin Woodman, and being assured a joyful welcome, he ran ahead and barked so loudly at the front door that the Tin Woodman heard him and came out in person to see if it were really his old friend, Toto. Next moment the Tin Man had clasped the Scarecrow in a warm embrace, and then turned to hug Dorothy, but now his eye was arrested by the strange sight of the patchwork girl, and he gazed upon her in mingled wonder and admiration. End of Chapter 26 Recording by Eric Leach, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Chapter 27 Of The Patchwork Girl of Oz This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Cheryl Martin The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum Chapter 27 The Tin Woodman Objects The Tin Woodman was one of the most important personages in all Oz. Though Emperor of the Winkies, he owed allegiance to Osma, 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 in scraps with cordial hospitality, and ushered the entire party into his handsome 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. 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 Margulot and Unkh-Nunki, and how Ojo had set out upon a journey to procure the things needed for the Kirk and Magician's magic charm. Then Dorothy told of their adventures in the quaddling 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 other 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 beating 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 immediately corked it tight. Then, with a red face and embarrassed manner, he rose to confront the others. What in the world were you doing? asked the Tin Woodman. I caught a drop of oil that fell from your knee joint, confessed Ojo. A drop of oil? exclaimed the Tin Woodman. Dear me, how careless my valet must have been in oiling me this morning. I'm afraid I shall have to scold the fellow, for I can't be dropping oil wherever I go. Never mind, said Dorothy, Ojo seems glad to have the oil, for some 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. You are very welcome to it indeed, said the Tin Woodman. 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-nunky, and good Margolot as well, will soon be restored to life. The munchkin boy said this with much pride and pleasure. Good, exclaimed the Tin Woodman, I congratulate you, but what is the fifth and last thing you need in order to complete the magic charm? The left 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're joking, he said. No, replied Ojo, much surprised. I am an 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 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 approval 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 responsive 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 only place in Oz where a yellow butterfly can be found. I'm glad of that, said the Tin Woodman, as I rule the Winky country I can protect my butterflies. Unless I get the wing, just one left wing, said Ojo miserably, I can't save Uncle Nunky. 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 magician and let him pull the left wing off. No you won't, said the Tin Woodman, you can't have one of my dear 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 himself and said, We must all go back to the Emerald City and ask Osma's advice. She's a wise little girl, our ruler, and she may find a way to help Ojo save his Uncle Nunky. 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 Uncle Nunky, unless he waited six years for the crooked magician to make a new lot of the powder of life. The boy was utterly discouraged, and as he walked along he 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 Unlucky 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 thirteen, 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 two, remarked the Scarecrow, and mine, said Scraps. I've just thirteen patches on my head. But, continued Ojo, I'm left-handed. Many of our greatest men are that way, asserted the Emperor. To 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. 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 henceforth 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 general favourites, and on entering the Royal Palace, word came to them from Osma that she would at once grant them an audience. Dorothy told the girl ruler how successful they had been in their quest until it 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 Osma, who did not seem a bit surprised. Had Ojo told me that one of the things he sought was the wing of 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 fun. As it has turned out, remarked Ojo, I can never get the things the Crook and Magician sent me for, and so, unless I wait the six years for him to make the powder of life, Uncle Nunky cannot be saved. Osma smiled. Dr. Pippt 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 destroyed, and his book of recipes burned up, I have also had brought here the marble statues of your Uncle and of Margolot, which are standing in the next room. They were all greatly astonished at this announcement. Oh, let me see, Uncle Nunky, let me see him at once, please! cried Ojo Uguly. Wait a moment, replied Osma, 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. Pippt, and how he had brought the glass cat and the patchwork girl to life, and the accident to Uncle Nunky and Margolot, 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, well, I'm sure, please you all. And now, continued the girl ruler, rising from her chair, you may follow me into the next room. LIBERVOX.ORG Recording by Cheryl Martin The Patchwork Girl of Oz by L. Frank Baum Chapter 28 The Wonderful Wizard of Oz When Ojo entered the room, he ran quickly to the statue of Uncle Nunky and kissed the marble face affectionately. I did my best, Uncle, he said with a sob, but it was no use. Then he drew back and looked around the room, and the sight of the assembled company quite amazed him. Aside from the marble statues of Uncle Nunky and Margolot, the glass cat was there, curled up on a rug, and the woozy was there, sitting on its square hind legs and looking on the scene with solemn interest. And there was the shaggy man in a suit of shaggy pea green satin, and at a table sat the little wizard, looking quite important, and as if he knew much more than he cared to tell. Last of all, Dr. Pippet 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 Margolot, whom he fondly loved, but whom he now feared was lost to him forever. Osma took a chair which Jellia Jam wheeled forward for the ruler, and back of her stood the scarecrow, the tin woodman, and Dorothy, as well as the cowardly lion and the hungry tiger. The wizard now arose and made a low bow to Osma, and another less deferent bow to the assembled company. Ladies and gentlemen and beasts, he said, I beg to announce 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. We have discovered that the crooked magician has been indulging in his magical arts contrary to law, and therefore, by royal edict, I hereby deprive him of all power to work magic in the future. He is no longer a crooked magician, but a simple munchkin. He is no longer even crooked, but a man like other men. As he pronounced these words, the wizard waved his hand toward Dr. Pippet, and instantly every crooked limb straightened out and became perfect. The former magician, with a cry of joy, sprang to his feet, looked at himself in wonder, and then fell back in his chair and watched the wizard with fascinated interest. The glass cat, which Dr. Pippet lawlessly made, continued the wizard, is a pretty cat, but its pink brains made it so conceited that it was a disagreeable companion to everyone. So the other day I took away the pink brains and replaced them with transparent ones, and now the glass cat is so modest and well behaved that Osma 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-tempered, that our gracious ruler intends to preserve her carefully as one of the curiosities of the curious land of Oz. Scraps may live in the palace, or wherever she pleases, and be nobody's 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 Unknunkey to life. He has failed, but there are others more powerful than the crooked magician, and there are more ways than Dr. Pip knew of to destroy the charm of the liquid of petrification. 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 Margolot, 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. Pip, 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 Unknunkey. 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, and wiped away the boy's tears with a handkerchief, for Ojo was crying from pure happiness. Osma came forward to congratulate them. I have given to you, my dear Ojo and Unknunkey, 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 protection. 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.