On they went,
and half an hour's steady walking
brought them to
a house somewhat better than
the two they had already passed.
It stood close to the roadside
and over the door was a sign
that read: "Miss Foolish Owl
and Mr. Wise Donkey: Public
Advisers."
When Ojo read
this sign aloud Scraps said
laughingly: "Well,
here is a place to get all the
advice we want, maybe more than
we need. Let's go in."
The boy knocked at the door.
"Come in!" called
a deep bass voice.
So they opened the door and
entered the house, where a little
light-brown donkey, dressed in
a blue apron and a blue cap,
was engaged in dusting the furniture
with a blue cloth. On a shelf
over the window sat a great blue
owl with a blue sunbonnet on
her head, blinking her big round
eyes at the visitors.
"Good morning," said the donkey,
in his deep voice, which seemed
bigger than he was. "Did you
come to us for advice?"
"Why, we came, anyhow," replied
Scraps, "and now we are here
we may as well have some advice.
It's free, isn't it?"
"Certainly," said the donkey. "Advice
doesn't cost anything--unless
you follow it. Permit me to say,
by the way, that you are the
queerest lot of travelers that
ever came to my shop. Judging
you merely by appearances, I
think you'd better talk to the
Foolish Owl yonder."
They turned to look at the
bird, which fluttered its wings
and stared back at them with
its big eyes.
"Hoot-ti-toot-ti-toot!" cried
the owl.
"Fiddle-cum-foo,
Howdy-do? Riddle-cum, tiddle-cum,
Too-ra-la-loo!"
"That beats your poetry, Scraps," said
Ojo.
"It's just nonsense!" declared
the Glass Cat.
"But it's good advice for the
foolish," said the donkey, admiringly. "Listen
to my partner, and you can't
go wrong.
Said the owl in a grumbling
voice:
"Patchwork
Girl has come to life; No one's
sweetheart, no
one's wife; Lacking sense and
loving fun, She'll be snubbed
by everyone."
"Quite a compliment! Quite
a compliment, I declare," exclaimed
the donkey, turning to look at
Scraps. "You are certainly a
wonder, my dear, and I fancy
you'd make a splendid pincushion.
If you belonged to me, I'd wear
smoked glasses when I looked
at you."
"Why?" asked
the Patchwork Girl.
"Because you
are so gay and gaudy."
"It is my beauty that dazzles
you," she asserted. "You Munchkin
people all strut around in your
stupid blue color, while I--"
"You are wrong in calling me
a Munchkin," interrupted the
donkey, "for I was born in the
Land of Mo and came to visit
the Land of Oz on the day it
was shut off from all the rest
of the world. So here I am obliged
to stay, and I confess it is
a very pleasant country to live
in."
"Hoot-ti-toot!" cried
the owl;
"Ojo's searching
for a charm, 'Cause Unc Nunkie's
come to harm.
Charms are scarce; they're hard
to get; Ojo's got a job, you
bet!"
"Is the owl so very foolish?" asked
the boy.
"Extremely so," replied the
donkey. "Notice what vulgar expressions
she uses. But I admire the owl
for the reason that she is positively
foolish. Owls are supposed to
be so very wise, generally, that
a foolish one is unusual, and
you perhaps know that anything
or anyone unusual is sure to
be interesting to the wise."
The owl flapped its wings again,
muttering these words:
"It's hard
to be a glassy cat-- No cat
can be more hard than
that; She's so transparent, every
act Is clear to us, and that's
a fact."
"Have you noticed my pink brains?" inquired
Bungle, proudly. "You can see
'em work."
"Not in the daytime," said
the donkey. "She can't see very
well by day, poor thing. But
her advice is excellent. I advise
you all to follow it."
"The owl hasn't given us any
advice, as yet," the boy declared.
"No? Then what
do you call all those sweet
poems?"
"Just foolishness," replied
Ojo. "Scraps does the same thing."
"Foolishness! Of course! To
be sure! The Foolish Owl must
be foolish or she wouldn't be
the Foolish Owl. You are very
complimentary to my partner,
indeed," asserted the donkey,
rubbing his front hoofs together
as if highly pleased.
"The sign says that you are
wise," remarked Scraps to the
donkey. "I wish you would prove
it."
"With great pleasure," returned
the beast. "Put me to the test,
my dear Patches, and I'll prove
my wisdom in the wink of an eye.
"What is the best way to get
to the Emerald City?" asked Ojo.
"Walk," said
the donkey.
"I know; but what road shall
I take?" was the boy's next question.
"The road of
yellow bricks, of course. It
leads directly
to the Emerald City."
"And how shall
we find the road of yellow
bricks?"
"By keeping
along the path you have been
following. You'll
come to the yellow bricks pretty
soon, and you'll know them when
you see them because they're
the only yellow things in the
blue country."
"Thank you," said the boy. "At
last you have told me something."
"Is that the extent of your
wisdom?" asked Scraps.
"No," replied the donkey; "I
know many other things, but they
wouldn't interest you. So I'll
give you a last word of advice:
move on, for the sooner you do
that the sooner you'll get to
the Emerald City of Oz."
"Hoot-ti-toot-ti-toot-ti-too!" screeched
the owl;
"Off you go!
fast or slow, Where you're
going you don't
know. Patches, Bungle, Muchkin
lad, Facing fortunes good and
bad, Meeting dangers grave and
sad, Sometimes worried, sometimes
glad-- Where you're going you
don't know, Nor do I, but off
you go!"
"Sounds like a hint, to me," said
the Patchwork Girl.
"Then let's take it and go," replied
Ojo.
They said good-bye to the Wise
Donkey and the Foolish Owl and
at once resumed their journey.
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