Just at dawn next morning Unc
Nunkie laid his hand tenderly
on Ojo's head and awakened him.
"Come," he
said.
Ojo dressed. He wore blue silk
stockings, blue knee pants with
gold buckles, a blue ruffled
waist and a jacket of bright
blue braided with gold. His shoes
were of blue leather and turned
up at the toes, which were pointed.
His hat had a peaked crown and
a flat brim, and around the brim
was a row of tiny golden bells
that tinkled when he moved. This
was the native costume of those
who inhabited the Munchkin Country
of the Land of Oz, so Unc Nunkie's
dress was much like that of his
nephew. Instead of shoes, the
old man wore boots with turnover
tops and his blue coat had wide
cuffs of gold braid.
The boy noticed
that his uncle had not eaten
the bread, and
supposed the old man had not
been hungry. Ojo was hungry,
though; so he divided the piece
of bread upon the table and ate
his half for breakfast, washing
it down with fresh, cool water
from the brook. Unc put the other
piece of bread in his jacket
pocket, after which he again
said, as he walked out through
the doorway: "Come."
Ojo was well pleased. He was
dreadfully tired of living all
alone in the woods and wanted
to travel and see people. For
a long time he had wished to
explore the beautiful Land of
Oz in which they lived. When
they were outside, Unc simply
latched the door and started
up the path. No one would disturb
their little house, even if anyone
came so far into the thick forest
while they were gone.
At the foot of the mountain
that separated the Country of
the Munchkins from the Country
of the Gillikins, the path divided.
One way led to the left and the
other to the right--straight
up the mountain. Unc Nunkie took
this right--hand path and Ojo
followed without asking why.
He knew it would take them to
the house of the Crooked Magician,
whom he had never seen but who
was their nearest neighbor.
All the morning they trudged
up the mountain path and at noon
Unc and Ojo sat on a fallen tree-trunk
and ate the last of the bread
which the old Munchkin had placed
in his pocket. Then they started
on again and two hours later
came in sight of the house of
Dr. Pipt.
It was a big house, round,
as were all the Munchkin houses,
and painted blue, which is the
distinctive color of the Munchkin
Country of Oz. There was a pretty
garden around the house, where
blue trees and blue flowers grew
in abundance and in one place
were beds of blue cabbages, blue
carrots and blue lettuce, all
of which were delicious to eat.
In Dr. Pipt's garden grew bun-
trees, cake-trees, cream-puff
bushes, blue buttercups which
yielded excellent blue butter
and a row of chocolate-caramel
plants. Paths of blue gravel
divided the vegetable and flower
beds and a wider path led up
to the front door. The place
was in a clearing on the mountain,
but a little way off was the
grim forest, which completely
surrounded it.
Unc knocked at the door of
the house and a chubby, pleasant-faced
woman, dressed all in blue, opened
it and greeted the visitors with
a smile.
"Ah," said Ojo; "you
must be Dame Margolotte, the
good wife
of Dr. Pipt."
"I am, my dear,
and all strangers are welcome
to my home."
"May we see
the famous Magician, Madam?"
"He is very busy just now," she
said, shaking her head doubtfully. "But
come in and let me give you something
to eat, for you must have traveled
far in order to get our lonely
place."
"We have," replied Ojo, as
he and Unc entered the house. "We
have come from a far lonelier
place than this."
"A lonelier place! And in the
Munchkin Country?" she exclaimed. "Then
it must be somewhere in the Blue
Forest."
"It is, good
Dame Margolotte."
"Dear me!" she said, looking
at the man, "you must be Unc
Nunkie, known as the Silent One." Then
she looked at the boy. "And you
must be Ojo the Unlucky," she
added.
"Yes," said
Unc.
"I never knew I was called
the Unlucky," said Ojo, soberly; "but
it is really a good name for
me."
"Well," remarked the woman,
as she bustled around the room
and set the table and brought
food from the cupboard, "you
were unlucky to live all alone
in that dismal forest, which
is much worse than the forest
around here; but perhaps your
luck will change, now you are
away from it. If, during your
travels, you can manage to lose
that 'Un' at the beginning of
your name Unlucky,' you will
then become Ojo the Lucky, which
will be a great improvement."
"How can I
lose that 'Un,' Dame Margolotte?"
"I do not know how, but you
must keep the matter in mind
and perhaps the chance will come
to you," she replied.
Ojo had never eaten such a
fine meal in all his life. There
was a savory stew, smoking hot,
a dish of blue peas, a bowl of
sweet milk of a delicate blue
tint and a blue pudding with
blue plums in it. When the visitors
had eaten heartily of this fare
the woman said to them:
"Do you wish
to see Dr. Pipt on business
or for pleasure?"
Unc shook his head.
"We are traveling," replied
Ojo, "and we stopped at your
house just to rest and refresh
ourselves. I do not think Unc
Nunkie cares very much to see
the famous Crooked Magician;
but for my part I am curious
to look at such a great man.
The woman seemed thoughtful.
"I remember that Unc Nunkie
and my husband used to be friends,
many years ago," she said, "so
perhaps they will be glad to
meet again. The Magician is very
busy, as I said, but if you will
promise not to disturb him you
may come into his workshop and
watch him prepare a wonderful
charm."
"Thank you," replied the boy,
much pleased. "I would like to
do that."
She led the way to a great
domed hall at the back of the
house, which was the Magician's
workshop. There was a row of
windows extending nearly around
the sides of the circular room,
which rendered the place very
light, and there was a back door
in addition to the one leading
to the front part of the house.
Before the row of windows a broad
seat was built and there were
some chairs and benches in the
room besides. At one end stood
a great fireplace, in which a
blue log was blazing with a blue
flame, and over the fire hung
four kettles in a row, all bubbling
and steaming at a great rate.
The Magician was stirring all
four of these kettles at the
same time, two with his hands
and two with his feet, to the
latter, wooden ladles being strapped,
for this man was so very crooked
that his legs were as handy as
his arms.
Unc Nunkie
came forward to greet his old
friend, but not
being able to shake either his
hands or his feet, which were
all occupied in stirring, he
patted the Magician's bald head
and asked: "What?"
"Ah, it's the Silent One," remarked
Dr. Pipt, without looking up, "and
he wants to know what I'm making.
Well, when it is quite finished
this compound will be the wonderful
Powder of Life, which no one
knows how to make but myself.
Whenever it is sprinkled on anything,
that thing will at once come
to life, no matter what it is.
It takes me several years to
make this magic Powder, but at
this moment I am pleased to say
it is nearly done. You see, I
am making it for my good wife
Margolotte, who wants to use
some of it for a purpose of her
own. Sit down and make yourself
comfortable, Unc Nunkie, and
after I've finished my task I
will talk to you.
"You must know," said Margolottte,
when they were all seated together
on the broad window-seat, "that
my husband foolishly gave away
all the Powder of Life he first
made to old Mombi the Witch,
who used to live in the Country
of the Gillikins, to the north
of here. Mombi gave to Dr. Pipt
a Powder of Perpetual Youth in
exchange for his Powder of Life,
but she cheated him wickedly,
for the Powder of Youth was no
good and could work no magic
at all."
"Perhaps the Powder of Life
couldn't either," said Ojo.
"Yes; it is perfection," she
declared. "The first lot we tested
on our Glass Cat, which not only
began to live but has lived ever
since. She's somewhere around
the house now."
"A Glass Cat!" exclaimed
Ojo, astonished.
"Yes; she makes a very pleasant
companion, but admires herself
a little more than is considered
modest, and she positively refuses
to catch mice," explained Margolotte. "My
husband made the cat some pink
brains, but they proved to be
too high- bred and particular
for a cat, so she thinks it is
undignified in her to catch mice.
Also she has a pretty blood-red
heart, but it is made of stone--a
ruby, I think--and so is rather
hard and unfeeling. I think the
next Class Cat the Magician makes
will have neither brains nor
heart, for then it will not object
to catching mice and may prove
of some use to us."
"What did old Mombi the Witch
do with the Powder of Life your
husband gave her?" asked the
boy.
"She brought Jack Pumpkinhead
to life, for one thing," was
the reply. "I suppose you've
heard of jack Pumpkinhead. He
is now living near the Emerald
City and is a great favorite
with the Princess Ozma, who rules
all the Land of Oz."
"No; I've never heard of him," remarked
Ojo. "I'm afraid I don't know
much about the Land of Oz. You
see, I've lived all my life with
Unc Nunkie, the Silent One, and
there was no one to tell me anything."
"That is one reason you are
Ojo the Unlucky," said the woman,
in a sympathetic tone. "The more
one knows, the luckier he is,
for knowledge is the greatest
gift in life."
"But tell me,
please, what you intend to
do With this new
lot of the Powder of Life, which
Dr. Pipt is making. He said his
wife wanted it for some especial
purpose.
"So I do," she answered. "I
want it to bring my Patchwork
Girl to life."
"Oh! A Patchwork Girl? What
is that?" Ojo asked, for this
seemed even more strange and
unusual than a Glass Cat.
"I think I must show you my
Patchwork Girl," said Margolotte,
laughing at the boy's astonishment, "for
she is rather difficult to explain.
But first I will tell you that
for many years I have longed
for a servant to help me with
the housework and to cook the
meals and wash the dishes. No
servant will come here because
the place is so lonely and out-of-the-way,
so my clever husband, the Crooked
Magician, proposed that I make
a girl out of some sort of material
and he would make her live by
sprinkling over her the Powder
of Life. This seemed an excellent
suggestion and at once Dr. Pipt
set to work to make a new batch
of his magic powder. He has been
at it a long, long while, and
so I have had plenty of time
to make the girl. Yet that task
was not so easy as you may suppose.
At first I couldn't think what
to make her of, but finally in
searching through a chest I came
across an old patchwork quilt,
which my grandmother once made
when she was young.
"What is a patchwork quilt?" asked
Ojo.
"A bed-quilt
made of patches of different
kinds and colors
of cloth, all neatly sewed together.
The patches are of all shapes
and sizes, so a patchwork quilt
is a very pretty and gorgeous
thing to look at. Sometimes it
is called a 'crazyquilt,' because
the patches and colors are so
mixed up. We never have used
my grand-mother's manycolored
patchwork quilt, hand-some as
it is, for we Munchkins do not
care for any color other than
blue, so it has been packed away
in the chest for about a hundred
years. When I found it, I said
to myself that it would do nicely
for my servant girl, for when
she was brought to life she would
not be proud nor haughty, as
the Glass Cat is, for such a
dreadful mixture of colors would
discourage her from trying to,
be as dignified as the blue Munchkins
are.
"Is blue the only respectable
color, then?" inquired Ojo.
"Yes, for a
Munchkin. All our country is
blue, you know. But
in other parts of Oz the people
favor different colors. At the
Emerald City, where our Princess
Ozma lives, green is the popular
color. But all Munchkins prefer
blue to anything else and when
my housework girl is brought
to life she will find herself
to be of so many unpopular colors
that she'll never dare be rebellious
or impudent, as servants are
sometimes liable to be when they
are made the same way their mistresses
are."
Unc Nunkie nodded approval.
"Good idea," he
said; and that was a long speech
for Unc Nunkie
because it was two words.
"So I cut up the quilt," continued
Margolotte, "and made from it
a very well-shaped girl, which
I stuffed with cotton-wadding.
I will show you what a good job
I did," and she went to a tall
cupboard and threw open the doors.
Then back she came, lugging
in her arms the Patchwork Girl,
which she set upon the bench
and propped up so that the figure
would not tumble over.
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