From here on the country improved
and the desert places began to
give way to fertile spots; still
no houses were yet to be seen
near the road. There were some
hills, with valleys between them,
and on reaching the top of one
of these hills the travelers
found before them a high wall,
running to the right and the
left as far as their eyes could
reach. Immediately in front of
them, where the wall crossed
the roadway, stood a gate having
stout iron bars that extended
from top to bottom. They found,
on coming nearer, that this gate
was locked with a great padlock,
rusty through lack of
"Well," said Scraps, "I
guess we'll stop here."
"It's a good guess," replied
Ojo. "Our way is barred by this
great wall and gate. It looks
as if no one had passed through
in many years.
"Looks are deceiving," declared
the Shaggy Man, laughing at their
disappointed faces, "and this
barrier is the most deceiving
thing in all Oz."
"It prevents our going any
farther, anyhow," said Scraps. "There
is no one to mind the gate and
let people through, and we've
no key to the padlock."
"True," replied Ojo, going
a little nearer to peep through
the bars of the gate. "What shall
we do, Shaggy Man? If we had
wings we might fly over the wall,
but we cannot climb it and unless
we get to the Emerald City I
won't be able to find the things
to restore Unc Nunkie to life."
"All very true," answered the
Shaggy Man, quietly; "but I know
this gate, having passed through
it many times."
all eagerly inquired.
"I'll show you how," said
he. He stood Ojo in the middle
the road and placed Scraps just
behind him, with her padded hands
on his shoulders. After the Patchwork
Girl came the Woozy, who held
a part of her skirt in his mouth.
Then, last of all, was the Glass
Cat, holding fast to the Woozy's
tail with her glass jaws.
"Now," said the Shaggy Man, "you
must all shut your eyes tight,
and keep them shut until I tell
you to open them."
"I can't," objected Scraps. "My
eyes are but- tons, and they
So the Shaggy Man tied his
red handkerchief over the Patchwork
Girl's eyes and examined all
the others to make sure they
had their eyes fast shut and
could see nothing.
"What's the game, anyhow--blind-man's-buff?" asked
"Keep quiet!" commanded the
Shaggy Man, sternly. "All ready?
Then follow me."
He took Ojo's hand and led
him forward over the road of
yellow bricks, toward the gate.
Holding fast to one another they
all followed in a row, expecting
every minute to bump against
the iron bars. The Shaggy Man
also had his eyes closed, but
marched straight ahead, nevertheless,
and after he had taken one hundred
steps, by actual count, he stopped
"Now you may
open your eyes."
They did so, and to their astonishment
found the wall and the gateway
far behind them, while in front
the former Blue Country of the
Munchkins had given way to green
fields, with pretty farm-houses
scattered among them.
"That wall," explained the
Shaggy Man, "is what is called
an optical illusion. It is quite
real while you have your eyes
open, but if you are not looking
at it the barrier doesn't exist
at all. It's the same way with
many other evils in life; they
seem to exist, and yet it's all
seeming and not true. You will
notice that the wall--or what
we thought was a wall--separates
the Munchkin Country from the
green country that surrounds
the Emerald City, which lies
exactly in the center of Oz.
There are two roads of yellow
bricks through the Munchkin Country,
but the one we followed is the
best of the two. Dorothy once
traveled the other way, and met
with more dangers than we did.
But all our troubles are over
for the present, as another day's
journey will bring us to the
great Emerald City."
They were delighted to know
this, and proceeded with new
courage. In a couple of hours
they stopped at a farmhouse,
where the people were very hospitable
and invited them to dinner. The
farm folk regarded Scraps with
much curiosity but no great astonishment,
for they were accustomed to seeing
extraordinary people in the Land
The woman of this house got
her needle and thread and sewed
up the holes made by the porcupine
quills in the Patchwork Girl's
body, after which Scraps was
assured she looked as beautiful
"You ought to have a hat to
wear," remarked the woman, "for
that would keep the sun from
fading the colors of your face.
I have some patches and scraps
put away, and if you will wait
two or three days I'll make you
a lovely hat that will match
the rest of you."
"Never mind the hat," said
Scraps, shaking her yarn braids; "it's
a kind offer, but we can't stop.
I can't see that my colors have
faded a particle, as yet; can
"Not much," replied the woman. "You
are still very gorgeous, in spite
of your long journey."
The children of the house wanted
to keep the Class Cat to play
with, so Bungle was offered a
good home if she would remain;
but the cat was too much interested
in Ojo's adventures and refused
"Children are rough playmates," she
remarked to the Shaggy Man, "and
although this home is more pleasant
than that of the Crooked Magician
I fear I would soon be smashed
to pieces by the boys and girls."
After they had rested themselves
they renewed their journey, finding
the road now smooth and pleasant
to walk upon and the country
growing more beautiful the nearer
they drew to the Emerald City.
By and by Ojo began to walk
on the green grass, looking carefully
"What are you trying to find?" asked
"A six-leaved clover," said
"Don't do that!" exclaimed
the Shaggy Man, earnestly. "It's
against the Law to pick a six-
leaved clover. You must wait
until you get Ozma's consent."
"She wouldn't know it," declared
"Ozma knows many things," said
the Shaggy Man. "In her room
is a Magic Picture that shows
any scene in the Land of Oz where
strangers or travelers happen
to be. She may be watching the
picture of us even now, and noticing
everything that we do."
"Does she always watch the
Magic Picture?" asked Ojo.
for she has many other things
to do; but, as I
said, she may be watching us
this very minute."
"I don't care," said Ojo, in
an obstinate tone of voice; "Ozma's
only a girl."
The Shaggy Man looked at him
"You ought to care for Ozma," said
he, "if you expect to save your
uncle. For, if you displease
our powerful Ruler, your journey
will surely prove a failure;
whereas, if you make a friend
of Ozma, she will gladly assist
you. As for her being a girl,
that is another reason why you
should obey her laws, if you
are courteous and polite. Everyone
in Oz loves Ozma and hates her
enemies, for she is as just as
she is powerful."
Ojo sulked a while, but finally
returned to the road and kept
away from the green clover. The
boy was moody and bad tempered
for an hour or two afterward,
because he could really see no
harm in picking a six-leaved
clover, if he found one, and
in spite of what the Shaggy Man
had said he considered Ozma's
law to be unjust.
They presently came to a beautiful
grove of tall and stately trees,
through which the road wound
in sharp curves--first one way
and then another. As they were
walking through this grove they
heard some one in the distance
singing, and the sounds grew
nearer and nearer until they
could distinguish the words,
although the bend in the road
still hid the singer. The song
was something like this:
the hale old bale of straw
That's cut from the
waving grain, The sweetest sight
man ever saw In forest, dell
or plain. It fills me with a
crunkling joy A straw-stack to
behold, For then I pad this lucky
boy With strands of yellow gold."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Shaggy
Man; "here comes my friend the
"What, a live Scarecrow?" asked
"Yes; the one
I told you of. He's a splendid
fellow, and very
intelligent. You'll like him,
Just then the famous Scarecrow
of Oz came around the bend in
the road, riding astride a wooden
Sawhorse which was so small that
its rider's legs nearly touched
The Scarecrow wore the blue
dress of the Munchkins, in which
country he was made, and on his
head was set a peaked hat with
a flat brim trimmed with tinkling
bells. A rope was tied around
his waist to hold him in shape.
for he was stuffed with straw
in every part of him except the
top of his head, where at one
time the Wizard of Oz had placed
sawdust, mixed with needles and
pins, to sharpen his wits. The
head itself was merely a bag
of cloth, fastened to the body
at the neck, and on the front
of this bag was painted the face--ears,
eyes, nose and mouth.
The Scarecrow's face was very
interesting, for it bore a comical
and yet winning expression, although
one eye was a bit larger than
the other and ears were not mates.
The Munchkin farmer who had made
the Scarecrow had neglected to
sew him together with close stitches
and therefore some of the straw
with which he was stuffed was
inclined to stick out between
the seams. His hands consisted
of padded white gloves, with
the fingers long and rather limp,
and on his feet he wore Munchkin
boots of blue leather with broad
turns at the tops of them.
The Sawhorse was almost as
curious as its rider. It had
been rudely made, in the beginning,
to saw logs upon, so that its
body was a short length of a
log, and its legs were stout
branches fitted into four holes
made in the body. The tail was
formed by a small branch that
had been left on the log, while
the head was a gnarled bump on
one end of the body. Two knots
of wood formed the eyes, and
the mouth was a gash chopped
in the log. When the Sawhorse
first came to life it had no
ears at all, and so could not
hear; but the boy who then owned
him had whittled two ears out
of bark and stuck them in the
head, after which the Sawhorse
heard very distinctly.
This queer wooden horse was
a great favorite with Princess
Ozma, who had caused the bottoms
of its legs to be shod with plates
of gold, so the wood would not
wear away. Its saddle was made
of cloth-of-gold richly encrusted
with precious gems. It had never
worn a bridle.
As the Scarecrow came in sight
of the party of travelers, he
reined in his wooden steed and
dismounted, greeting the Shaggy
Man with a smiling nod. Then
he turned to stare at the Patchwork
Girl in wonder, while she in
turn stared at him.
"Shags," he whispered, drawing
the Shaggy Man aside, "pat me
into shape, there's a good fellow!"
While his friend
punched and patted the Scarecrow's
to smooth out the humps, Scraps
turned to Ojo and whispered: "Roll
me out, please; I've sagged down
dreadfully from walking so much
and men like to see a stately
She then fell upon the ground
and the boy rolled her back and
forth like a rolling-pin, until
the cotton had filled all the
spaces in her patchwork covering
and the body had lengthened to
its fullest extent. Scraps and
the Scarecrow both finished their
hasty toilets at the same time,
and again they faced each other.
"Allow me, Miss Patchwork," said
the Shaggy Man, "to present my
friend, the Right Royal Scarecrow
of Oz. Scarecrow, this is Miss
Scraps Patches; Scraps, this
is the Scarecrow. Scarecrow--Scraps;
They both bowed with much dignity.
"Forgive me for staring so
rudely," said the Scarecrow, "but
you are the most beautiful sight
my eyes have ever beheld."
"That is a high compliment
from one who is himself so beautiful," murmured
Scraps, casting down her suspender-button
eyes by lowering her head. "But,
tell me, good sir, are you not
a trifle lumpy?"
"Yes, of course;
that's my straw, you know.
It bunches up,
sometimes, in spite of all my
efforts to keep it even. Doesn't
your straw ever bunch?"
"Oh, I'm stuffed with cotton," said
Scraps. "It never bunches, but
it's inclined to pack down and
make me sag."
"But cotton is a high-grade
stuffing. I may say it is even
more stylish, not to say aristocratic,
than straw," said the Scarecrow
politely. "Still, it is but proper
that one so entrancingly lovely
should have the best stuffing
there is going. I-- er--I'm so
glad I've met you, Miss Scraps!
Introduce us again, Shaggy."
"Once is enough," replied
the Shaggy Man, laughing at
me where you found her, and--Dear
me, what a queer
cat! What are you made of--gelatine?"
"Pure glass," answered the
cat, proud to have attracted
the Scarecrow's attention. "I
am much more beautiful than the
Patchwork Girl. I'm transparent,
and Scraps isn't; I've pink brains--
you can see 'em work; and I've
a ruby heart, finely polished,
while Scraps hasn't any heart
"No more have I," said the
Scarecrow, shaking hands with
Scraps, as if to congratulate
her on the fact. "I've a friend,
the Tin Woodman, who has a heart,
but I find I get along pretty
well without one. And so--Well,
well! here's a little Munchkin
boy, too. Shake hands, my little
man. How are you?"
Ojo placed his hand in the
flabby stuffed glove that served
the Scarecrow for a hand, and
the Scarecrow pressed it so cordially
that the straw in his glove crackled.
Meantime, the Woozy had approached
the Sawhorse and begun to sniff
at it. The Sawhorse resented
this familiarity and with a sudden
kick pounded the Woozy squarely
on its Lead with one gold-shod
"Take that, you monster!" it
The Woozy never even winked.
"To be sure," he said; "I'll
take anything I have to. But
don't make me angry, you wooden
beast, or my eyes will flash
fire and burn you up."
The Sawhorse rolled its knot
eyes wickedly and kicked again,
but the Woozy trotted away and
said to the Scarecrow:
"What a sweet
disposition that creature has!
I advise you to
chop it up for kindling-wood
and use me to ride upon. My back
is flat and you can't fall off."
"I think the trouble is that
you haven't been properly introduced," said
the Scarecrow, regarding the
Woozy with much wonder, for he
had never seen such a queer animal
is the favorite steed of Princess
Ozma, the Ruler
of the Land of Oz, and he lives
in a stable decorated with pearls
and emeralds, at the rear of
the royal palace. He is swift
as the wind, untiring, and is
kind to his friends. All the
people of Oz respect the Sawhorse
highly, and when I visit Ozma
she sometimes allows me to ride
him--as I am doing to-day. Now
you know what an important personage
the Sawhorse is, and if some
tell me your name, your rank
and station, and your history,
it will give me pleasure to relate
them to the Sawhorse. This will
lead to mutual respect and friendship."
The Woozy was somewhat abashed
by this speech and did not know
how to reply. But Ojo said:
beast is called the Woozy,
and he isn't of much
importance except that he has
three hairs growing on the tip
of his tail."
The Scarecrow looked and saw
that this was true.
"But," said he, in a puzzled
way, "what makes those three
hairs important? The Shaggy Man
has thousands of hairs, but no
one has ever accused him of being
So Ojo related the sad story
of Unc Nunkie's transformation
into a marble statue, and told
how he had set out to find the
things the Crooked Magician wanted,
in order to make a charm that
would restore his uncle to life.
One of the requirements was three
hairs from a Woozy's tail, but
not being able to pull out the
hairs they had been obliged to
take the Woozy with them.
The Scarecrow looked grave
as he listened and he shook his
head several times, as if in
"We must see Ozma about this
matter," he said. "That Crooked
Magician is breaking the Law
by practicing magic without a
license, and I'm not sure Ozma
will allow him to restore your
uncle to life."
"Already I have warned the
boy of that," declared the Shaggy
At this Ojo
began to cry. "I
want my Unc Nunkie!" he exclaimed. "I
know how he can be restored to
life, and I'm going to do it--Ozma
or no Ozma! What right has this
girl Ruler to keep my Unc Nunkie
a statue forever?"
"Don't worry about that just
now," advised the Scarecrow. "Go
on to the Emerald City, and when
you reach it have the Shaggy
Man take you to see Dorothy.
Tell her your story and I'm sure
she will help you. Dorothy is
Ozma's best friend, and if you
can win her to your side your
uncle is pretty safe to live
again." Then he turned to the
Woozy and said: "I'm afraid you
are not important enough to be
introduced to the Sawhorse, after
"I'm a better beast than he
is," retorted the Woozy, indignantly. "My
eyes can flash fire, and his
"Is this true?" inquired
the Scarecrow, turning to the
Ojo, and told how the Woozy
had set fire to the
"Have you any other accomplishments?" asked
"I have a most terrible growl--that
is, sometimes," said the Woozy,
as Scraps laughed merrily and
the Shaggy Man smiled. But the
Patch- work Girl's laugh made
the Scarecrow forget all about
the Woozy. He said to her:
"What an admirable
young lady you are, and what
company! We must be better acquainted,
for never before have I met a
girl with such exquisite coloring
or such natural, artless manners."
"No wonder they call you the
Wise Scarecrow," replied Scraps.
"When you arrive at the Emerald
City I will see you again," continued
the Scarecrow. "Just now I am
going to call upon an old friend--an
ordinary young lady named Jinjur--who
has Promised to repaint my left
ear for me. You may have noticed
that the paint on my left ear
has peeled off and faded, which
affects my hearing on that side.
Jinjur always fixes me up when
I get weather- worn."
"When do you expect to return
to the Emerald City?" asked the
"I'll be there
this evening, for I'm anxious
to have a long
talk with Miss Scraps. How is
it, Sawhorse; are you equal to
a swift run?"
"Anything that suits you suits
me," returned the wooden horse.
So the Scarecrow mounted to
the jeweled saddle and waved
his hat, when the Sawhorse darted
away so swiftly that they were
out of sight in an instant.