Soon the entire party was gathered
on the road of yellow bricks,
quite beyond the reach of the
beautiful but treacherous plants.
The Shaggy Man, staring first
at one and then at the other,
seemed
greatly pleased and interested.
"I've seen queer things since
I came to the Land of Oz," said
he, "but never anything queerer
than this band of adventurers.
Let us sit down a while, and
have a talk and get acquainted."
"Haven't you always lived in
the Land of Oz?" asked the Munchkin
boy.
"No; I used
to live in the big, outside
world. But I came
here once with Dorothy, and Ozma
let me stay."
"How do you like Oz?" asked
Scraps. "Isn't the country and
the climate grand?"
"It's the finest country in
all the world, even if it is
a fairyland. and I'm happy every
minute I live in it," said the
Shaggy Man. "But tell me something
about yourselves."
So Ojo related the story of
his visit to the house of the
Crooked Magician, and how he
met there the Class Cat, and
how the Patchwork Girl was brought
to life and of the terrible accident
to Unc Nunkie and Margdotte.
Then he told how he had set out
to find the five different things
which the Magician needed to
make a charm that would restore
the marble figures to life, one
requirement being three hairs
from a Woozy's tail.
"We found the Woozy," explained
the boy, "and he agreed to give
us the three hairs; but we couldn't
pull them out. So we had to bring
the Woozy along with us."
"I see," returned the Shaggy
Man, who had listened with interest
to the story. "But perhaps I,
who am big and strong, can pull
those three hairs from the Woozy's
tail."
"Try it, if you like," said
the Woozy.
So the Shaggy Man tried it,
but pull as hard as he could
he failed to get the hairs out
of the Woozy's tail. So he sat
down again and wiped his shaggy
face with a shaggy silk handkerchief
and said:
"It doesn't
matter. If you can keep the
Woozy until you
get the rest of the things you
need, you can take the beast
and his three hairs to the Crooked
Magician and let him find a way
to extract 'em. What are the
other things you are to find?"
"One," said Ojo, "is
a six-leaved clover."
"You ought to find that in
the fields around the Emerald
City," said the Shaggy Man. "There
is a Law against picking six-leaved
clovers, but I think I can get
Ozma to let you have one."
"Thank you," replied Ojo. "The
next thing is the left wing of
a yellow butterfly."
"For that you must go to the
Winkle Country," the Shaggy Man
declared. "I've never noticed
any butterflies there, but that
is the yellow country of Oz and
it's ruled, by a good friend
of mine, the Tin Woodman."
"Oh, I've heard of him!" exclaimed
Ojo. "He must be a wonderful
man."
"So he is,
and his heart is wonderfully
kind. I'm sure the
Tin Woodman will do all in his
power to help you to save your
Unc Nunkie and poor Margolotte."
"The next thing I must find," said
the Munchkin boy, "is a gill
of water from a dark well."
"Indeed! Well, that is more
difficult," said the Shaggy Man,
scratching his left ear in a
puzzled way. "I've never heard
of a dark well; have you?"
"No," said
Ojo.
"Do you know where one may
be found?" inquired the Shaggy
Man.
"I can't imagine," said
Ojo.
"Then we must
ask the Scarecrow."
"The Scarecrow!
But surely, sir, a scarecrow
can't know anything."
"Most scarecrows don't, I admit," answered
the Shaggy Man. "But this Scarecrow
of whom I speak is very intelligent.
He claims to possess the best
brains in all Oz."
"Better than mine?" asked
Scraps.
"Better than mine?" echoed
the Glass Cat. "Mine are pink,
and you can see 'em work."
"Well, you can't see the Scarecrow's
brains work, but they do a lot
of clever thinking," asserted
the Shaggy Man. "If anyone knows
where a dark well is, it's my
friend the Scarecrow."
"Where does he live?" inquired
Ojo.
"He has a splendid
castle in the Winkle Country,
near to the
palace of his friend the Tin
Woodman, and he is often to be
found in the Emerald City, where
he visits Dorothy at the royal
palace."
"Then we will ask him about
the dark well," said Ojo.
"But what else does this Crooked
Magician want?" asked the Shaggy
Man.
"A drop of
oil from a live man's body."
"Oh; but there
isn't such a thing."
"That is what I thought," replied
Ojo; "but the Crooked Magician
said it wouldn't be called for
by the recipe if it couldn't
be found, and therefore I must
search until I find it."
"I wish you good luck," said
the Shaggy Man, shaking his head
doubtfully; "but I imagine you'll
have a hard job getting a drop
of oil from a live man's body.
There's blood in a body, but
no oil."
"There's cotton in mine," said
Scraps, dancing a little jig.
"I don't doubt it," returned
the Shaggy Man admiringly. "You're
a regular comforter and as sweet
as patchwork can be. All you
lack is dignity."
"I hate dignity," cried Scraps,
kicking a pebble high in the
air and then trying to catch
it as it fell. "Half the fools
and all the wise folks are dignified,
and I'm neither the one nor the
other."
"She's just crazy," explained
the Glass Cat.
The Shaggy Man laughed.
"She's delightful, in her way," he
said. "I'm sure Dorothy will
be pleased with her, and the
Scarecrow will dote on her. Did
you say you were traveling toward
the Emerald City?"
"Yes," replied Ojo. "I
thought that the best place
to go, at
first, because the six-leaved
clover may be found there."
"I'll go with you," said the
Shaggy Man, "and show you the
way."
"Thank you," exclaimed Ojo. "I
hope it won't put you out any."
"No," said the other, "I
wasn't going anywhere in particular.
I've been a rover all my life,
and although Ozma has given me
a suite of beautiful rooms in
her palace I still get the wandering
fever once in a while and start
out to roam the country over.
I've been away from the Emerald
City several weeks, this time,
and now that I've met you and
your friends I'm sure it will
interest me to accompany you
to the great city of Oz and introduce
you to my friends."
"That will be very nice," said
the boy, gratefully.
"I hope your friends are not
dignified," observed Scraps.
"Some are, and some are not," he
answered; "but I never criticise
my friends. If they are really
true friends; they may be anything
they like, for all of me."
"There's some sense in that," said
Scraps, nodding her queer head
in approval. "Come on, and let's
get to the Emerald City as soon
as possible." With this she ran
up the path, skipping and dancing,
and then turned to await them.
"It is quite a distance from
here to the Emerald City," remarked
the Shaggy Man, "so we shall
not get there to-day, nor to-morrow.
Therefore let us take the jaunt
in an easy manner. I'm an old
traveler and have found that
I never gain anything by being
in a hurry. 'Take it easy' is
my motto. If you can't take it
easy, take it as easy as you
can."
After walking some distance
over the road of yellow bricks
Ojo said he was hungry and would
stop to eat some bread and cheese.
He offered a portion of the food
to the Shaggy Man, who thanked
him but refused it.
"When I start out on my travels," said
he, "I carry along enough square
meals to last me several weeks.
Think I'll indulge in one now,
as long as we're stopping anyway."
Saying this, he took a bottle
from his pocket and shook from
it a tablet about the size of
one of Ojo's finger-nails.
"That," announced the Shaggy
Man, "is a square meal, in condensed
form. Invention of the great
Professor Woggle-Bug, of the
Royal College of Athletics. It
contains soup, fish, roast meat,
salad, apple-dumplings, ice cream
and chocolate- drops, all boiled
down to this small size, so it
can be conveniently carried and
swallowed when you are hungry
and need a square meal."
"I'm square," said the Woozy. "Give
me one, please."
So the Shaggy Man gave the
Woozy a tablet from his bottle
and the beast ate it in a twinkling.
"You have now had a six course
dinner," declared the Shaggy
Man.
"Pshaw!" said the Woozy, ungratefully, "I
want to taste something. There's
no fun in that sort of eating."
"One should only eat to sustain
life," replied the Shaggy Man, "and
that tablet is equal to a peck
of other food."
"I don't care for it. I want
something I can chew and taste," grumbled
the Woozy.
"You are quite wrong, my poor
beast," said the Shaggy Man in
a tone of pity. "Think how tired
your jaws would get chewing a
square meal like this, if it
were not condensed to the size
of a small tablet--which you
can swallow in a jiffy."
"Chewing isn't tiresome; it's
fun, maintained the Woozy. "I
always chew the honey-bees when
I catch them. Give me some bread
and cheese, Ojo."
"No, no! You've already eaten
a big dinner!" protested the
Shaggy Man.
"May be," answered the Woozy; "but
I guess I'll fool myself by munching
some bread and cheese. I may
not be hungry, having eaten all
those things you gave me, but
I consider this eating business
a matter of taste, and I like
to realize what's going into
me."
Ojo gave the beast what he
wanted, but the Shaggy Man shook
his shaggy head reproachfully
and said there was no animal
so obstinate or hard to convince
as a Woozy.
At this moment a patter of
footsteps was heard, and looking
up they saw the live phonograph
standing before them. It seemed
to have passed through many adventures
since Ojo and his comrades last
saw the machine, for the varnish
of its wooden case was all marred
and dented and scratched in a
way that gave it an aged and
disreputable appearance.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Ojo, staring
hard. "What has happened to you?"
"Nothing much," replied the
phonograph in a sad and depressed
voice. "I've had enough things
thrown at me, since I left you,
to stock a department store and
furnish half a dozen bargain-counters."
"Are you so broken up that
you can't play?" asked Scraps.
"No; I still am able to grind
out delicious music. Just now
I've a record on tap that is
really superb," said the phonograph,
growing more cheerful.
"That is too bad," remarked
Ojo. "We've no objection to you
as a machine, you know; but as
a music-maker we hate you."
"Then why was I ever invented?" demanded
the machine, in a tone of indignant
protest.
They looked at one another
inquiringly, but no one could
answer such a puzzling question.
Finally the Shaggy Man said:
"I'd like to
hear the phonograph play."
Ojo sighed. "We've been very
happy since we met you, sir," he
said.
"I know. But
a little misery, at times,
makes one appreciate
happiness more. Tell me, Phony,
what is this record like, which
you say you have on tap?"
"It's a popular
song, sir. In all civilized
lands the common
people have gone wild over it."
"Makes civilized
folks wild folks, eh? Then
it's dangerous."
"Wild with joy, I mean," explained
the phonograph. "Listen. This
song will prove a rare treat
to you, I know. It made the author
rich--for an author. It is called
'My Lulu.'"
Then the phonograph began to
play. A strain of odd, jerky
sounds was followed by these
words, sung by a man through
his nose with great vigor of
expression:
"Ah wants mah
Lulu, mah coal-black Lulu;
Ah wants mah loo-loo, loo-loo,
loo-loo, Lu! Ah loves mah Lulu,
mah coal-black Lulu, There ain't
nobody else loves loo-loo, Lu!"
"Here-shut that off!" cried
the Shaggy Man, springing to
his feet. "What do you mean by
such impertinence?"
"It's the latest popular song," declared
the phonograph, speaking in a
sulky tone of voice.
"A popular
song?"
"Yes. One that
the feeble-minded can remember
the words of and
those ignorant of music can whistle
or sing. That makes a popular
song popular, and the time is
coming when it will take the
place of all other songs."
"That time won't come to us,
just yet," said the Shaggy Man,
sternly: "I'm something of a
singer myself, and I don't intend
to be throttled by any Lulus
like your coal-black one. I shall
take you all apart, Mr. Phony,
and scatter your pieces far and
wide over the country, as a matter
of kindness to the people you
might meet if allowed to run
around loose. Having performed
this painful duty I shall--"
But before he could say more
the phonograph turned and dashed
up the road as fast as its four
table-legs could carry it, and
soon it had entirely disappeared
from their view.
The Shaggy
Man sat down again and seemed
well pleased. "Some
one else will save me the trouble
of scattering that phonograph," said
he; "for it is not possible that
such a music-maker can last long
in the Land of Oz. When you are
rested, friends, let us go on
our way."
During the afternoon the travelers
found themselves in a lonely
and uninhabited part of the country.
Even the fields were no longer
cultivated and the country began
to resemble a wilderness. The
road of yellow bricks seemed
to have been neglected and became
uneven and more difficult to
walk upon. Scrubby under-brush
grew on either side of the way.
while huge rocks were scattered
around in abundance.
But this did not deter Ojo
and his friends from trudging
on, and they beguiled the journey
with jokes and cheerful conversation.
Toward evening they reached a
crystal spring which gushed from
a tall rock by the roadside and
near this spring stood a deserted
cabin. Said the Shaggy Man, halting
here:
"We may as
well pass the night here, where
there is shelter
for our heads and good water
to drink. Road beyond here is
pretty bad; worst we shall have
to travel; so let's wait until
morning before we tackle it."
They agreed to this and Ojo
found some brushwood in the cabin
and made a fire on the hearth.
The fire delighted Scraps, who
danced before it until Ojo warned
her she might set fire to herself
and burn up. After that the Patchwork
Girl kept at a respectful distance
from the darting flames, but
the Woozy lay down before the
fire like a big dog and seemed
to enjoy its warmth.
For supper the Shaggy Man ate
one of his tablets, but Ojo stuck
to his bread and cheese as the
most satisfying food. He also
gave a portion to the Woozy.
When darkness came on and they
sat in a circle on the cabin
floor, facing the firelight--there
being no furniture of any sort
in the place--Ojo said to the
Shaggy Man:
"Won't you
tell us a story?"
"I'm not good at stories," was
the reply; "but I sing like a
bird."
"Raven, or crow?" asked
the Glass Cat.
"Like a song
bird. I'll prove it. I'll sing
a song I composed
myself. Don't tell anyone I'm
a poet; they might want me to
write a book. Don't tell 'em
I can sing, or they'd want me
to make records for that awful
phonograph. Haven't time to be
a public benefactor, so I'll
just sing you this little song
for your own amusement."
They were glad enough to be
entertained, and listened with
interest while the Shaggy Man
chanted the following verses
to a tune that was not unpleasant:
"I'll sing
a song of Ozland, where wondrous
creatures dwell
And fruits and flowers and shady
bowers abound in every dell,
Where magic is a science and
where no one shows surprise If
some amazing thing takes place
before his very eyes.
Our Ruler's a bewitching girl
whom fairies love to please;
She's always kept her magic sceptre
to enforce decrees To make her
people happy, for her heart is
kind and true And to aid the
needy and distressed is what
she longs to do.
And then there's Princess Dorothy,
as sweet as any rose, A lass
from Kansas, where they don't
grow fairies, I Suppose; And
there's the brainy Scarecrow,
with a body stuffed with straw,
Who utters words of wisdom rare
that fill us all with awe.
I'll not forget Nick Chopper,
the Woodman made of Tin, Whose
tender heart thinks killing time
is quite a dreadful sin, Nor
old Professor Woggle-Bug, who's
highly magnified And looks so
big to everyone that he is filled
with pride.
Jack Pumpkinhead's a dear old
chum who might be called a chump,
But won renown by riding round
upon a magic Gump; The Sawhorse
is a splendid steed and though
he's made of wood He does as
many thrilling stunts as any
meat horse could.
And now I'll introduce a beast
that ev'ryone adores-- The Cowardly
Lion shakes with fear 'most ev'ry
time he roars, And yet he does
the bravest things that any lion
might, Because he knows that
cowardice is not considered right.
There's Tik-tok-he's a clockwork
man and quite a funny sight--
He talks and walks mechanically,
when he's wound up tight; And
we've a Hungry Tiger who would
babies love to eat But never
does because we feed him other
kinds of meat.
It's hard to name all of the
freaks this noble Land's acquired;
'Twould make my song so very
long that you would soon be tired;
But give attention while I mention
one wise Yellow Hen And Nine
fine Tiny Piglets living in a
golden pen.
Just search
the whole world over--sail
the seas from coast
to coast-- No other nation in
creation queerer folk can boast;
And now our rare museum will
include a Cat of Glass, A Woozy,
and--last but not least--a crazy
Patchwork Lass."
Ojo was so pleased with this
song that he applauded the singer
by clapping his hands, and Scraps
followed suit by clapping her
padded fingers together. although
they made no noise. The cat pounded
on the floor with her glass paws--gently,
so as not to break them--and
the Woozy. which had been asleep,
woke up to ask what the row was
about.
"I seldom sing in public, for
fear they might want me to start
an opera company," remarked the
Shaggy Man, who was pleased to
know his effort was appreciated. "Voice,
just now is a little out of training;
rusty, perhaps."
"Tell me," said the Patchwork
Girl earnestly, "do all those
queer people you mention really
live in the Land of Oz?"
"Every one
of 'em. I even forgot one thing:
Dorothy's Pink Kitten."
"For goodness sake!" exclaimed
Bungle, sitting up and looking
interested. "A Pink Kitten? How
absurd! Is it glass?"
"No; just ordinary
kitten."
"Then it can't
amount to much. I have pink
brains, and you can
see 'em work."
"Dorothy's kitten is all pink--brains
and all-- except blue eyes. Name's
Eureka. Great favorite at the
royal palace," said the Shaggy
Man, yawning.
The Glass Cat seemed annoyed.
"Do you think a pink kitten--common
meat--is as pretty as I am?" she
asked.
"Can't say. Tastes differ,
you know," replied the Shaggy
Man, yawning again. "But here's
a pointer that may be of service
to you: make friends with Eureka
and you'll be solid at the palace."
"I'm solid
now; solid glass."
"You don't understand," rejoined
the Shaggy Man, sleepily. "Anyhow,
make friends with the Pink Kitten
and you'll be all right. If the
Pink Kitten despises you, look
out for breakers."
"Would anyone
at the royal palace break a
Glass Cat?"
"Might. You
never can tell. Advise you
to purr soft and look
humble--if you can. And now I'm
going to bed."
Bungle considered the Shaggy
Man's advice so carefully that
her pink brains were busy long
after the others of the party
were fast asleep.
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