Ojo had never traveled before
and so he only knew that the
path down the mountainside led
into the open Munchkin Country,
where large numbers of people
dwelt. Scraps was quite new and
not supposed to know anything
of the Land of Oz, while the
Glass Cat admitted she had never
wandered very far away from the
Magician's house. There was only
one path before them, at the
beginning, so they could not
miss their way, and for a time
they walked through the thick
forest in silent thought, each
one impressed with the importance
adventure they had undertaken.
Suddenly the Patchwork Girl
laughed. It was funny to see
her laugh, because her cheeks
wrinkled up, her nose tipped,
her silver button eyes twinkled
and her mouth curled at the corners
in a comical way.
"Has something pleased you?" asked
Ojo, who was feeling solemn and
joyless through thinking upon
his uncle's sad fate.
"Yes," she answered. "Your
world pleases me, for it's a
queer world, and life in it is
queerer still. Here am I, made
from an old bedquilt and intended
to be a slave to Margolotte,
rendered free as air by an accident
that none of you could foresee.
I am enjoying life and seeing
the world, while the woman who
made me is standing helpless
as a block of wood. If that isn't
funny enough to laugh at, I don't
know what is."
"You're not seeing much of
the world yet, my poor, innocent
Scraps," remarked the Cat. "The
world doesn't consist wholly
of the trees that are on all
sides of us."
"But they're part of it; and
aren't they pretty trees?" returned
Scraps, bobbing her head until
her brown yarn curls fluttered
in the breeze. "Growing between
them I can see lovely ferns and
wild-flowers, and soft green
mosses. If the rest of your world
is half as beautiful I shall
be glad I'm alive."
"I don't know what the rest
of the world is like, I'm sure," said
the cat; "but I mean to find
"I have never been out of the
forest," Ojo added; "but to me
the trees are gloomy and sad
and the wild-flowers seem lonesome.
It must be nicer where there
are no trees and there is room
for lots of people to live together."
"I wonder if any of the people
we shall meet will be as splendid
as I am," said the Patchwork
Girl. "All I have seen, so far,
have pale, colorless skins and
clothes as blue as the country
they live in, while I am of many
gorgeous colors-- face and body
and clothes. That is why I am
bright and contented, Ojo, while
you are blue and sad."
"I think I made a mistake in
giving you so many sorts of brains," observed
the boy. "Perhaps, as the Magician
said, you have an over-dose,
and they may not agree with you."
"What had you to do with my
brains?" asked Scraps.
"A lot," replied Ojo. "Old
Margolotte meant to give you
only a few--just enough to keep
you going--but when she wasn't
looking I added a good many more,
of the best kinds I could find
in the Magician's cupboard."
"Thanks," said the girl, dancing
along the path ahead of Ojo and
then dancing back to his side. "If
a few brains are good, many brains
must be better."
"But they ought to be evenly
balanced," said the boy, "and
I had no time to be careful.
From the way you're acting, I
guess the dose was badly mixed."
"Scraps hasn't enough brains
to hurt her, so don't worry," remarked
the cat, which was trotting along
in a very dainty and graceful
manner. "The only brains worth
considering are mine, which are
pink. You can see 'em work."
After walking a long time they
came to a little brook that trickled
across the path, and here Ojo
sat down to rest and eat something
from his basket. He found that
the Magician had given him part
of a loaf of bread and a slice
of cheese. He broke off some
of the bread and was surprised
to find the loaf just as large
as it was before. It was the
same way with the cheese: however
much he broke off from the slice,
it remained exactly the same
"Ah," said he, nodding wisely; "that's
magic. Dr. Pipt has enchanted
the bread and the cheese, so
it will last me all through my
journey, however much I eat."
"Why do you put those things
into your mouth?" asked Scraps,
gazing at him in astonishment. "Do
you need more stuffing? Then
why don't you use cotton, such
as I am stuffed with?"
"I don't need that kind," said
"But a mouth
is to talk with, isn't it?"
"It is also to eat with," replied
the boy. "If I didn't put food
into my mouth, and eat it, I
would get hungry and starve.
"Ah, I didn't know that," she
said. "Give me some."
Ojo handed her a bit of the
bread and she put it in her mouth.
"What next?" she
asked, scarcely able to speak.
"Chew it and swallow it," said
Scraps tried that. Her pearl
teeth were unable to chew the
bread and beyond her mouth there
was no opening. Being unable
to swallow she threw away the
bread and laughed.
"I must get hungry and starve,
for I can't eat," she said.
"Neither can I," announced
the cat; "but I'm not fool enough
to try. Can't you understand
that you and I are superior people
and not made like these poor
"Why should I understand that,
or anything else?" asked the
girl. "Don't bother my head by
asking conundrums, I beg of you.
Just let me discover myself in
my own way."
With this she began amusing
herself by leaping across the
brook and hack again.
"Be careful, or you'll fall
in the water," warned Ojo.
"You'd better. If you get wet
you'll be soggy and can't walk.
Your colors might run, too," he
"Don't my colors run whenever
I run?" she asked.
"Not in the
way I mean. If they get wet,
the reds and greens
and yellows and purples of your
patches might run into each other
and become just a blur--no color
at all, you know."
"Then," said the Patchwork
Girl, "I'll be careful, for if
I spoiled my splendid colors
I would cease to be beautiful."
"Pah!" sneered the Glass Cat, "such
colors are not beautiful; they're
ugly, and in bad taste. Please
notice that my body has no color
at all. I'm transparent, except
for my exquisite red heart and
my lovely pink brains--you can
see 'em work."
"Shoo-shoo-shoo!" cried Scraps,
dancing around and laughing. "And
your horrid green eyes, Miss
Bungle! You can't see your eyes,
but we can, and I notice you're
very proud of what little color
you have. Shoo, Miss Bungle,
shoo-shoo-shoo! If you were all
colors and many colors, as I
am, you'd be too stuck up for
anything." She leaped over the
cat and back again, and the startled
Bungle crept close to a tree
to escape her. This made Scraps
laugh more heartily than ever,
and she said:
The cat has lost her shoe.
bare, but she don't care, So
what's the odds to you?"
"Dear me, Ojo," said the cat; "don't
you think the creature is a little
"It may be," he
answered, with a puzzled look.
"If she continues her insults
I'll scratch off her suspender-button
eyes," declared the cat.
"Don't quarrel, please," pleaded
the boy, rising to resume the
journey. "Let us be good comrades
and as happy and cheerful as
possible, for we are likely to
meet with plenty of trouble on
It was nearly sundown when
they came to the edge of the
forest and saw spread out before
them a delightful landscape.
There were broad blue fields
stretching for miles over the
valley, which was dotted everywhere
with pretty, blue domed houses,
none of which, however, was very
near to the place where they
stood. Just at the point where
the path left the forest stood
a tiny house covered with leaves
from the trees, and before this
stood a Munchkin man with an
axe in his hand. He seemed very
much surprised when Ojo and Scraps
and the Glass Cat came out of
the woods, but as the Patchwork
Girl approached nearer he sat
down upon a bench and laughed
so hard that he could not speak
for a long time.
This man was a woodchopper
and lived all alone in the little
house. He had bushy blue whiskers
and merry blue eyes and his blue
clothes were quite old and worn.
"Mercy me!" exclaimed the woodchopper,
when at last he could stop laughing. "Who
would think such a funny harlequin
lived in the Land of Oz? Where
did you come from, Crazy-quilt?"
"Do you mean me?" asked
the Patchwork Girl.
"Of course," he
"You misjudge my ancestry.
I'm not a crazy- quilt; I'm patchwork," she
"There's no difference," he
replied, beginning to laugh again. "When
my old grandmother sews such
things together she calls it
a crazy-quilt; but I never thought
such a jumble could come to life."
"It was the Magic Powder that
did it," explained Ojo.
"Oh, then you
have come from the Crooked
Magician on the mountain.
I might have known it, for--Well,
I declare! here's a glass cat.
But the Magician will get in
trouble for this; it's against
the law for anyone to work magic
except Glinda the Good and the
royal Wizard of Oz. If you people--or
things--or glass spectacles--or
crazy- quilts--or whatever you
are, go near the Emerald City,
you'll be arrested."
"We're going there, anyhow," declared
Scraps, sitting upon the bench
and swinging her stuffed legs.
"If any of
us takes a rest, We'll be arrested
sure, And get
no restitution 'Cause the rest
we must endure."
"I see," said the woodchopper,
nodding; "you're as crazy as
the crazy-quilt you're made of."
"She really is crazy," remarked
the Glass Cat. "But that isn't
to he wondered at when you remember
how many different things she's
made of. For my part, I'm made
of pure glass--except my jewel
heart and my pretty pink brains.
Did you notice my brains, stranger?
You can see em work."
"So I can," replied the woodchopper; "but
I can't see that they accomplish
much. A glass cat is a useless
sort of thing, but a Patchwork
Girl is really useful. She makes
me laugh, and laughter is the
best thing in life. There was
once a woodchopper, a friend
of mine, who was made all of
tin, and I used to laugh every
time I saw him."
"A tin woodchopper?" said Ojo. "That
"My friend wasn't always tin," said
the man, "but he was careless
with his axe, and used to chop
himself very badly. Whenever
he lost an arm or a leg he had
it replaced with tin; so after
a while he was all tin."
"And could he chop wood then?" asked
"He could if
he didn't rust his tin joints.
But one day he
met Dorothy in the forest and
went with her to the Emerald
City, where he made his fortune.
He is now one of the favorites
of Princess Ozma, and she has
made him the Emperor of the Winkies--the
Country where all is yellow."
"Who is Dorothy?" inquired
the Patchwork Girl.
"A little maid
who used to live in Kansas,
but is now a
Princess of Oz. She's Ozma's
best friend, they say, and lives
with her in the royal palace."
"Is Dorothy made of tin?" inquired
"Is she patchwork, like me?" inquired
"No," said the man; "Dorothy
is flesh, just as I am. I know
of only one tin person, and that
is Nick Chopper, the Tin Woodman;
and there will never be but one
Patchwork Girl, for any magician
that sees you will refuse to
make another one like you."
"I suppose we shall see the
Tin Woodman, for we are going
to the Country of the Winkies," said
"What for?" asked
"To get the
left wing of a yellow butterfly."
"It is a long journey," declared
the man, "and you will go through
lonely parts of Oz and cross
rivers and traverse dark forests
before you get there."
"Suits me all right," said
Scraps. "I'll get a chance to
see the country."
girl. Better crawl into a rag-bag
there; or give yourself to some
little girl to play with. Those
who travel are likely to meet
trouble; that's why I stay at
The woodchopper then invited
them all to stay the night at
his little hut, but they were
anxious to get on and so left
him and continued along the path,
which was broader, now, and more
They expected to reach some
other house before it grew dark,
but the twilight was brief and
Ojo soon began to fear they had
made a mistake in leaving the
"I can scarcely see the path," he
said at last. "Can you see it,
the Patchwork Girl, who was
holding fast to
the boy's arm so he could guide
"I can see," declared the Glass
Cat. "My eyes are better than
yours, and my pink brains--"
"Never mind your pink brains,
please," said Ojo hastily; "just
run ahead and show us the way.
Wait a minute and I'll tie a
string to you; for then you can
He got a string from his pocket
and tied it around the cat's
neck, and after that the creature
guided them along the path. They
had proceeded in this way for
about an hour when a twinkling
blue light appeared ahead of
"Good! there's a house at last," cried
Ojo. "When we reach it the good
people will surely welcome us
and give us a night's lodging." But
however far they walked the light
seemed to get no nearer, so by
and by the cat stopped short,
"I think the
light is traveling, too, and
we shall never be able
to catch up with it. But here
is a house by the roadside, so
why go farther?"
"Where is the
beside us, Scraps."
Ojo was now able to see a small
house near the pathway. It was
dark and silent, but the boy
was tired and wanted to rest,
so he went up to the door and
"Who is there?" cried
a voice from within.
"I am Ojo the Unlucky, and
with me are Miss Scraps Patchwork
and the Glass Cat," he replied.
"What do you want?" asked
"A place to sleep," said
"Come in, then; but don't make
any noise, and you must go directly
to bed," returned the Voice.
the door and entered. It was
very dark inside
and he could see nothing at all.
But the cat exclaimed: "Why,
there's no one here!"
"There must be," said the boy. "Some
one spoke to me."
"I can see everything in the
room," replied the cat, "and
no one is present but ourselves.
But here are three beds, all
made up, so we may as well go
"What is sleep?" inquired
the Patchwork Girl.
"It's what you do when you
go to bed," said Ojo.
"But why do you go to bed?" persisted
the Patchwork Girl.
"Here, here! You are making
altogether too much noise," cried
the Voice they had heard before. "Keep
quiet, strangers, and go to bed."
The cat, which
could see in the dark, looked
for the owner of the Voice, hut
could discover no one, although
the Voice had seemed close beside
them. She arched her back a little
and seemed afraid. Then she whispered
to Ojo: "Come!" and led him to
With his hands the boy felt
of the bed and found it was big
and soft, with feather pillows
and plenty of blankets. So he
took off his shoes and hat and
crept into the bed. Then the
cat led Scraps to another bed
and the Patchwork Girl was puzzled
to know what to do with it.
"Lie down and keep quiet," whispered
the cat, warningly.
"Can't I sing?" asked
"Can't I whistle?" asked
"Can't I dance till morning,
if I want to?" asked Scraps.
"You must keep quiet," said
the cat, in a soft voice.
"I don't want to," replied
the Patchwork Girl, speaking
as loudly as usual. "What right
have you to order me around?
If I want to talk, or yell, or
Before she could say anything
more an unseen hand seized her
firmly and threw her out of the
door, which closed behind her
with a sharp slam. She found
herself bumping and rolling in
the road and when she got up
and tried to open the door of
the house again she found it
"What has happened to Scraps?" asked
"Never mind. Let's go to sleep,
or something will happen to us," answered
the Glass Cat.
So Ojo snuggled down in his
bed and fell asleep, and he was
so tired that he never wakened
until broad daylight.