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 seven 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 Class 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 bad 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 bad 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.
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