The Patchwork Girl of Oz
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L. Frank Baum >> The Patchwork Girl of Oz
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Ojo was by nature gentle and affectionate and if
he had disobeyed the Law of Oz it was to restore
his dear Unc Nunkie to life. His fault was more
thoughtless than wicked, but that did not alter
the fact that he had committed a fault. At first
he had felt sorrow and remorse, but the more he
thought about the unjust treatment he had
received--unjust merely because he considered it
so--the more he resented his arrest, blaming Ozma
for making foolish laws and then punishing folks
who broke them. Only a six-leaved clover! A tiny
green plant growing neglected and trampled under
foot. What harm could there be in picking it? Ojo
began to think Ozma must be a very bad and
oppressive Ruler for such a lovely fairyland as
Oz. The Shaggy Man said the people loved her; but
how could they?
The little Munchkin boy was so busy thinking
these things--which many guilty prisoners have
thought before him--that he scarcely noticed all
the splendor of the city streets through which
they passed. Whenever they met any of the happy,
smiling people, the boy turned his head away in
shame, although none knew who was beneath the
robe.
By and by they reached a house built just beside
the great city wall, but in a quiet, retired
place. It was a pretty house, neatly painted and
with many windows. Before it was a garden filled
with blooming flowers. The Soldier with the Green
Whiskers led Ojo up the gravel path to the front
door, on which he knocked.
A woman opened the door and, seeing Ojo
in his white robe, exclaimed:
"Goodness me! A prisoner at last. But what a
small one, Soldier."
"The size doesn't matter, Tollydiggle, my
dear. The fact remains that he is a prisoner,"
said the soldier. "And, this being the prison,
and you the jailer, it is my duty to place the
prisoner in your charge."
"True. Come in, then, and I'll give you a
receipt for him."
They entered the house and passed through a hall
to a large circular room, where the woman pulled
the robe off from Ojo and looked at him with
kindly interest. The boy, on his part, was gazing
around him in amazement, for never had he dreamed
of such a magnificent apartment as this in which
he stood. The roof of the dome was of colored
glass, worked into beautiful designs. The walls
were paneled with plates of gold decorated with
gems of great size and many colors, and upon the
tiled floor were soft rugs delightful to walk
upon. The furniture was framed in gold and
upholstered in satin brocade and it consisted of
easy chairs, divans and stools in great variety.
Also there were several tables with mirror tops
and cabinets filled with rare and curious things.
In one place a case filled with books stood
against the wall, and elsewhere Ojo saw a cupboard
containing all sorts of games.
"May I stay here a little while before I go to
prison?" asked the boy, pleadingly.
"Why, this is your prison," replied Tollydiggle,
"and in me behold your jailor. Take off those
handcuffs, Soldier, for it is impossible for
anyone to escape from this house."
"I know that very well," replied the soldier and
at once unlocked the handcuffs and released the
prisoner.
The woman touched a button on the wall and
lighted a big chandelier that hung suspended from
the ceiling, for it was growing dark outside. Then
she seated herself at a desk and asked:
"What name?"
"Ojo the Unlucky," answered the Soldier
with the Green Whiskers.
"Unlucky? Ah, that accounts for it," said she.
"What crime?"
"Breaking a Law of Oz."
"All right. There's your receipt, Soldier; and
now I'm responsible for the prisoner. I'm glad
of it, for this is the first time I've ever had
anything to do, in my official capacity," remarked
the jailer, in a pleased tone.
"It's the same with me, Tollydiggle," laughed
the soldier. "But my task is finished and I must
go and report to Ozma that I've done my duty
like a faithful Police Force, a loyal Army and
an honest Body-Guard--as I hope I am."
Saying this, he nodded farewell to Tollydiggle
and Ojo and went away.
"Now, then," said the woman briskly, "I must get
you some supper, for you are doubtless hungry.
What would you prefer: planked whitefish, omelet
with jelly or mutton-chops with gravy?"
Ojo thought about it. Then he said: "I'll take
the chops, if you please."
"Very well; amuse yourself while I'm gone;
I won't be long," and then she went out by a
door and left the prisoner alone.
Ojo was much astonished, for not only was this
unlike any prison he had ever heard of, but he was
being treated more as a guest than a criminal.
There were many windows and they had no locks.
There were three doors to the room and none were
bolted. He cautiously opened one of the doors and
found it led into a hallway. But he had no
intention of trying to escape. If his jailor was
willing to trust him in this way he would not
betray her trust, and moreover a hot supper was
being prepared for him and his prison was very
pleasant and comfortable. So he took a book from
the case and sat down in a big chair to look at
the pictures.
This amused him until the woman came in with a
large tray and spread a cloth on one of the
tables. Then she arranged his supper, which proved
the most varied and delicious meal Ojo had ever
eaten in his life.
Tollydiggle sat near him while he ate, sewing
on some fancy work she held in her lap. When
he had finished she cleared the table and then
read to him a story from one of the books.
"Is this really a prison?" he asked, when she
had finished reading.
"Indeed it is," she replied. "It is the only
prison in the Land of Oz."
"And am I a prisoner?"
"Bless the child! Of course."
"Then why is the prison so fine, and why
are you so kind to me?" he earnestly asked.
Tollydiggle seemed surprised by the question,
but she presently answered:
"We consider a prisoner unfortunate. He is
unfortunate in two ways--because he has done
something wrong and because he is deprived of his
liberty. Therefore we should treat him kindly,
because of his misfortune, for otherwise he would
become hard and bitter and would not be sorry he
had done wrong. Ozma thinks that one who has
committed a fault did so because he was not strong
and brave; therefore she puts him in prison to
make him strong and brave. When that is
accomplished he is no longer a prisoner, but a
good and loyal citizen and everyone is glad that
he is now strong enough to resist doing wrong. You
see, it is kindness that makes one strong and
brave; and so we are kind to our prisoners."
Ojo thought this over very carefully. "I had
an idea," said he, "that prisoners were always
treated harshly, to punish them."
"That would be dreadful!" cried Tollydiggle.
"Isn't one punished enough in knowing he has
done wrong? Don't you wish, Ojo, with all your
heart, that you had not been disobedient and
broken a Law of Oz?"
"I--I hate to be different from other people,"
he admitted.
"Yes; one likes to be respected as highly as his
neighbors are," said the woman. "When you are
tried and found guilty, you will be obliged to
make amends, in some way. I don't know just
what Ozma will do to you, because this is the
first time one of us has broken a Law; but you
may be sure she will be just and merciful. Here
in the Emerald City people are too happy and
contented ever to do wrong; but perhaps you
came from some faraway corner of our land, and
having no love for Ozma carelessly broke one
of her Laws."
"Yes," said Ojo, "I've lived all my life in the
heart of a lonely forest, where I saw no one but
dear Unc Nunkie."
"I thought so," said Tollydiggle. "But now
we have talked enough, so let us play a game
until bedtime."
Chapter Sixteen
Princess Dorothy
Dorothy Gale was sitting in one of her rooms in
the royal palace, while curled up at her feet was
a little black dog with a shaggy coat and very
bright eyes. She wore a plain white frock, without
any jewels or other ornaments except an emerald-
green hair-ribbon, for Dorothy was a simple
little girl and had not been in the least spoiled
by the magnificence surrounding her. Once the
child had lived on the Kansas prairies, but she
seemed marked for adventure, for she had made
several trips to the Land of Oz before she came to
live there for good. Her very best friend was the
beautiful Ozma of Oz, who loved Dorothy so well
that she kept her in her own palace, so as to be
near her. The girl's Uncle Henry and Aunt Em--the
only relatives she had in the world--had also been
brought here by Ozma and given a pleasant home.
Dorothy knew almost everybody in Oz, and it was
she who had discovered the Scarecrow, the Tin
Woodman and the Cowardly Lion, as well as Tik-Tok
the Clockwork Man. Her life was very pleasant now,
and although she had been made a Princess of Oz by
her friend Ozma she did not care much to be a
Princess and remained as sweet as when she had
been plain Dorothy Gale of Kansas.
Dorothy was reading in a book this evening
when Jellia Jamb, the favorite servant-maid of
the palace, came to say that the Shaggy Man
wanted to see her.
"All right," said Dorothy; "tell him to come
right up."
"But he has some queer creatures with him--some
of the queerest I've ever laid eyes on," reported
Jellia.
"Never mind; let 'em all come up," replied
Dorothy.
But when the door opened to admit not only the
Shaggy Man, but Scraps, the Woozy and the Glass
Cat, Dorothy jumped up and looked at her strange
visitors in amazement. The Patchwork Girl was the
most curious of all and Dorothy was uncertain at
first whether Scraps was really alive or only a
dream or a nightmare. Toto, her dog, slowly
uncurled himself and going to the Patchwork Girl
sniffed at her inquiringly; but soon he lay down
again, as if to say he had no interest in such an
irregular creation.
"You're a new one to me," Dorothy said
reflectively, addressing the Patchwork Girl. "I
can't imagine where you've come from."
"Who, me?" asked Scraps, looking around the
pretty room instead of at the girl. "Oh, I came
from a bed-quilt, I guess. That's what they say,
anyhow. Some call it a crazy-quilt and some a
patchwork quilt. But my name is Scraps--and now
you know all about me."
"Not quite all," returned Dorothy with a smile.
"I wish you'd tell me how you came to be alive."
"That's an easy job," said Scraps, sitting upon
a big upholstered chair and making the springs
bounce her up and down. "Margolotte wanted a
slave, so she made me out of an old bed-quilt she
didn't use. Cotton stuffing, suspender-button
eyes, red velvet tongue, pearl beads for teeth.
The Crooked Magician made a Powder of Life,
sprinkled me with it and--here I am. Perhaps
you've noticed my different colors. A very refined
and educated gentleman named the Scarecrow, whom I
met, told me I am the most beautiful creature in
all Oz, and I believe it."
"Oh! Have you met our Scarecrow, then?" asked
Dorothy, a little puzzled to understand the brief
history related.
"Yes; isn't he jolly?"
"The Scarecrow has many good qualities," replied
Dorothy. "But I'm sorry to hear all this 'bout the
Crooked Magician. Ozma'll be mad as hops when she
hears he's been doing magic again. She told him
not to."
"He only practices magic for the benefit of his
own family," explained Bungle, who was keeping at
a respectful distance from the little black dog.
"Dear me," said Dorothy; "I hadn't noticed
you before. Are you glass, or what?"
"I'm glass, and transparent, too, which is more
than can be said of some folks," answered the
cat. "Also I have some lovely pink brains; you
can see 'em work."
"Oh; is that so? Come over here and let me see."
The Glass Cat hesitated, eyeing the dog.
"Send that beast away and I will," she said.
"Beast! Why, that's my dog Toto, an' he's the
kindest dog in all the world. Toto knows a good
many things, too; 'most as much as I do, I
guess."
"Why doesn't he say anything?" asked Bungle.
"He can't talk, not being a fairy dog,"
explained Dorothy. "He's just a common United
States dog; but that's a good deal; and I
understand him, and he understands me, just as
well as if he could talk."
Toto, at this, got up and rubbed his head
softly against Dorothy's hand, which she held
out to him, and he looked up into her face as if
he had understood every word she had said.
"This cat, Toto," she said to him, "is made
of glass, so you mustn't bother it, or chase it,
any more than you do my Pink Kitten. It's
prob'ly brittle and might break if it bumped
against anything."
"Woof!" said Toto, and that meant he understood.
The Glass Cat was so proud of her pink brains
that she ventured to come close to Dorothy, in
order that the girl might "see 'em work." This was
really interesting, but when Dorothy patted the
cat she found the glass cold and hard and
unresponsive, so she decided at once that Bungle
would never do for a pet.
"What do you know about the Crooked Magician who
lives on the mountain?" asked Dorothy.
"He made me," replied the cat; "so I know all
about him. The Patchwork Girl is new--three or
four days old--but I've lived with Dr. Pipt for
years; and, though I don't much care for him, I
will say that he has always refused to work magic
for any of the people who come to his house. He
thinks there's no harm in doing magic things for
his own family, and he made me out of glass
because the meat cats drink too much milk. He also
made Scraps come to life so she could do the
housework for his wife Margolotte."
"Then why did you both leave him?" asked
Dorothy.
"I think you'd better let me explain that,"
interrupted the Shaggy Man, and then he told
Dorothy all of Ojo's story and how Unc Nunkie and
Margolotte had accidentally been turned to marble
by the Liquid of Petrifaction. Then he related how
the boy had started out in search of the things
needed to make the magic charm, which would
restore the unfortunates to life, and how he had
found the Woozy and taken him along because he
could not pull the three hairs out of its tail.
Dorothy listened to all this with much interest,
and thought that so far Ojo had acted very well.
But when the Shaggy Man told her of the Munchkin
boy's arrest by the Soldier with the Green
Whiskers, because he was accused of wilfully
breaking a Law of Oz, the little girl was greatly
shocked.
"What do you s'pose he's done?" she asked.
"I fear he has picked a six-leaved clover,"
answered the Shaggy Man, sadly. "I did not see him
do it, and I warned him that to do so was against
the Law; but perhaps that is what he did,
nevertheless."
"I'm sorry 'bout that," said Dorothy gravely,
"for now there will be no one to help his poor
uncle and Margolotte 'cept this Patchwork Girl,
the Woozy and the Glass Cat."
"Don't mention it," said Scraps. "That's no
affair of mine. Margolotte and Unc Nunkie are
perfect strangers to me, for the moment I came
to life they came to marble."
"I see," remarked Dorothy with a sigh of
regret; "the woman forgot to give you a heart."
"I'm glad she did," retorted the Patchwork Girl.
"A heart must be a great annoyance to one. It
makes a person feel sad or sorry or devoted or
sympathetic--all of which sensations interfere with
one's happiness."
"I have a heart," murmured the Glass Cat.
"It's made of a ruby; but I don't imagine I shall
let it bother me about helping Unc Nunkie and
Margolotte."
"That's a pretty hard heart of yours," said
Dorothy. "And the Woozy, of course--"
"Why, as for me," observed the Woozy, who was
reclining on the floor with his legs doubled under
him, so that he looked much like a square box, "I
have never seen those unfortunate people you are
speaking of, and yet I am sorry for them, having
at times been unfortunate myself. When I was shut
up in that forest I longed for some one to help
me, and by and by Ojo came and did help me. So I'm
willing to help his uncle. I'm only a stupid
beast, Dorothy, but I can't help that, and if
you'll tell me what to do to help Ojo and his
uncle, I'll gladly do it."
Dorothy walked over and patted the Woozy on his
square head.
"You're not pretty," she said, "but I like you.
What are you able to do; anything 'special?"
"I can make my eyes flash fire--real fire--when
I'm angry. When anyone says: 'Krizzle-Kroo' to me
I get angry, and then my eyes flash fire."
"I don't see as fireworks could help Ojo's
uncle," remarked Dorothy. "Can you do anything
else?"
"I--I thought I had a very terrifying growl,"
said the Woozy, with hesitation; "but perhaps
I was mistaken."
"Yes," said the Shaggy Man, "you were certainly
wrong about that." Then he turned to Dorothy and
added: "What will become of the Munchkin boy?"
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head
thoughtfully. "Ozma will see him 'bout it, of
course, and then she'll punish him. But how,
I don't know, 'cause no one ever has been
punished in Oz since I knew anything about
the place. Too bad, Shaggy Man, isn't it?"
While they were talking Scraps had been
roaming around the room and looking at all
the pretty things it contained. She had carried
Ojo's basket in her hand, until now, when she
decided to see what was inside it. She found
the bread and cheese, which she had no use for,
and the bundle of charms, which were curious
but quite a mystery to her. Then, turning these
over, she came upon the six-leaved clover which
the boy had plucked.
Scraps was quick-witted, and although she had no
heart she recognized the fact that Ojo was her
first friend. She knew at once that because the
boy had taken the clover he had been imprisoned,
and she understood that Ojo had given her the
basket so they would not find the clover in his
possession and have proof of his crime. So,
turning her head to see that no one noticed her,
she took the clover from the basket and dropped it
into a golden vase that stood on Dorothy's table.
Then she came forward and said to Dorothy:
"I wouldn't care to help Ojo's uncle, but I
will help Ojo. He did not break the Law--no
one can prove he did--and that green-whiskered
soldier had no right to arrest him."
"Ozma ordered the boy's arrest," said Dorothy,
"and of course she knew what she was doing. But if
you can prove Ojo is innocent they will set him
free at once."
"They'll have to prove him guilty, won't
they?'' asked Scraps.
"I s'pose so."
"Well, they can't do that," declared the
Patchwork Girl.
As it was nearly time for Dorothy to dine with
Ozma, which she did every evening, she rang for a
servant and ordered the Woozy taken to a nice room
and given plenty of such food as he liked best.
"That's honey-bees," said the Woozy.
"You can't eat honey-bees, but you'll be given
something just as nice," Dorothy told him. Then
she had the Glass Cat taken to another room for
the night and the Patchwork Girl she kept in one
of her own rooms, for she was much interested in
the strange creature and wanted to talk with her
again and try to understand her better.
Chapter Seventeen
Ozma and Her Friends
The Shaggy Man had a room of his own in the royal
palace, so there he went to change his shaggy suit
of clothes for another just as shaggy but not so
dusty from travel. He selected a costume of
pea-green and pink satin and velvet, with
embroidered shags on all the edges and iridescent
pearls for ornaments. Then he bathed in an
alabaster pool and brushed his shaggy hair and
whiskers the wrong way to make them still more
shaggy. This accomplished, and arrayed in his
splendid shaggy garments, he went to Ozma's
banquet hall and found the Scarecrow, the Wizard
and Dorothy already assembled there. The Scarecrow
had made a quick trip and returned to the Emerald
City with his left ear freshly painted.
A moment later, while they all stood in waiting,
a servant threw open a door, the orchestra struck
up a tune and Ozma of Oz entered.
Much has been told and written concerning the
beauty of person and character of this sweet girl
Ruler of the Land of Oz--the richest, the happiest
and most delightful fairyland of which we have any
knowledge. Yet with all her queenly qualities Ozma
was a real girl and enjoyed the things in life
that other real girls enjoy. When she sat on her
splendid emerald throne in the great Throne Room
of her palace and made laws and settled disputes
and tried to keep all her subjects happy and
contented, she was as dignified and demure as any
queen might be; but when she had thrown aside her
jeweled robe of state and her sceptre, and had
retired to her private apartments, the girl--
joyous, light-hearted and free--replaced the
sedate Ruler.
In the banquet hall to-night were gathered
only old and trusted friends, so here Ozma was
herself--a mere girl. She greeted Dorothy with
a kiss, the Shaggy Man with a smile, the little
old Wizard with a friendly handshake and then
she pressed the Scarecrow's stuffed arm and
cried merrily:
"What a lovely left ear! Why, it's a hundred
times better than the old one."
"I'm glad you like it," replied the Scarecrow,
well pleased. "Jinjur did a neat job, didn't she?
And my hearing is now perfect. Isn't it wonderful
what a little paint will do, if it's properly
applied?"
"It really is wonderful," she agreed, as they
all took their seats; "but the Sawhorse must
have made his legs twinkle to have carried you so
far in one day. I didn't expect you back before
to-morrow, at the earliest."
"Well," said the Scarecrow, "I met a charming
girl on the road and wanted to see more of her, so
I hurried back."
Ozma laughed.
"I know," she returned; "it's the Patchwork
Girl. She is certainly bewildering, if not strictly
beautiful."
"Have you seen her, then?" the straw man eagerly
asked.
"Only in my Magic Picture, which shows me all
scenes of interest in the Land of Oz."
"I fear the picture didn't do her justice," said
the Scarecrow.
"It seemed to me that nothing could be more
gorgeous," declared Ozma. "Whoever made that
patchwork quilt, from which Scraps was formed,
must have selected the gayest and brightest bits
of cloth that ever were woven."
"I am glad you like her," said the Scarecrow
in a satisfied tone. Although the straw man did
not eat, not being made so he could, he often
dined with Ozma and her companions, merely
for the pleasure of talking with them. He sat at
the table and had a napkin and plate, but the
servants knew better than to offer him food.
After a little while he asked: "Where is the
Patchwork Girl now?"
"In my room," replied Dorothy. "I've taken a
fancy to her; she's so queer and--and--uncommon."
"She's half crazy, I think," added the Shaggy
Man.
"But she is so beautiful!" exclaimed the
Scarecrow, as if that fact disarmed all criticism.
They all laughed at his enthusiasm, but the
Scarecrow was quite serious. Seeing that he was
interested in Scraps they forbore to say anything
against her. The little band of friends Ozma had
gathered around her was so quaintly assorted that
much care must be exercised to avoid hurting their
feelings or making any one of them unhappy. It was
this considerate kindness that held them close
friends and enabled them to enjoy one another's
society.
Another thing they avoided was conversing
on unpleasant subjects, and for that reason Ojo
and his troubles were not mentioned during the
dinner. The Shaggy Man, however, related his
adventures with the monstrous plants which
had seized and enfolded the travelers, and told
how he had robbed Chiss, the giant porcupine,
of the quills which it was accustomed to throw
at people. Both Dorothy and Ozma were pleased
with this exploit and thought it served Chiss
right.
Then they talked of the Woozy, which was the
most remarkable animal any of them had ever before
seen--except, perhaps, the live Sawhorse. Ozma had
never known that her dominions contained such a
thing as a Woozy, there being but one in existence
and this being confined in his forest for many
years. Dorothy said she believed the Woozy was a
good beast, honest and faithful; but she added
that she did not care much for the Glass Cat.
"Still," said the Shaggy Man, "the Glass Cat
is very pretty and if she were not so conceited
over her pink brains no one would object to her
as a companion."
The Wizard had been eating silently until
now, when he looked up and remarked:
"That Powder of Life which is made by the
Crooked Magician is really a wonderful thing.
But Dr. Pipt does not know its true value and
he uses it in the most foolish ways."
"I must see about that," said Ozma, gravely.
Then she smiled again and continued in a
lighter tone: "It was Dr. Pipt's famous Powder
of Life that enabled me to become the Ruler
of Oz."
"I've never heard that story," said the Shaggy
Man, looking at Ozma questioningly.
"Well, when I was a baby girl I was stolen by an
old Witch named Mombi and transformed into a boy,"
began the girl Ruler. "I did not know who I was
and when I grew big enough to work, the Witch made
me wait upon her and carry wood for the fire and
hoe in the garden. One day she came back from a
journey bringing some of the Powder of Life, which
Dr. Pipt had given her. I had made a pumpkin-
headed man and set it up in her path to frighten
her, for I was fond of fun and hated the Witch.
But she knew what the figure was and to test her
Powder of Life she sprinkled some of it on the man
I had made. It came to life and is now our dear
friend Jack Pumpkinhead. That night I ran away
with Jack to escape punishment, and I took old
Mombi's Powder of Life with me. During our journey
we came upon a wooden Sawhorse standing by the
road and I used the magic powder to bring it to
life. The Sawhorse has been with me ever since.
When I got to the Emerald City the good Sorceress,
Glinda, knew who I was and restored me to my
proper person, when I became the rightful Ruler of
this land. So you see had not old Mombi brought
home the Powder of Life I might never have run
away from her and become Ozma of Oz, nor would we
have had Jack Pumpkinhead and the Sawhorse to
comfort and amuse us."
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