The Patchwork Girl of Oz by Lyman Frank Baum (classic romance novels .txt) 📖

were others of less importance, filling the great hall to the very doors.

At the same moment that the Soldier with the Green Whiskers arrived with Ojo, the Shaggy Man entered from a side door, escorting the Patchwork Girl, the Woozy and the Glass Cat. All these came to the vacant space before the throne and stood facing the Ruler.

“Hullo, Ojo,” said Scraps; “how are you?”

“All right,” he replied; but the scene awed the boy and his voice trembled a little with fear. Nothing could awe the Patchwork Girl, and although the Woozy was somewhat uneasy in these splendid surroundings the Glass Cat was delighted with the sumptuousness of the court and the impressiveness of the occasion—pretty big words but quite expressive.

At a sign from Ozma the soldier removed Ojo’s white robe and the boy stood face to face with the girl who was to decide his punishment. He saw at a glance how lovely and sweet she was, and his heart gave a bound of joy, for he hoped she would be merciful.

Ozma sat looking at the prisoner a long time. Then she said gently:

“One of the Laws of Oz forbids anyone to pick a six-leaved clover. You are accused of having broken this Law, even after you had been warned not to do so.”

Ojo hung his head and while he hesitated how to reply the Patchwork Girl stepped forward and spoke for him.

“All this fuss is about nothing at all,” she said, facing Ozma unabashed. “You can’t prove he picked the six-leaved clover, so you’ve no right to accuse him of it. Search him, if you like, but you won’t find the clover; look in his basket and you’ll find it’s not there. He hasn’t got it, so I demand that you set this poor Munchkin boy free.”

The people of Oz listened to this defiance in amazement and wondered at the queer Patchwork Girl who dared talk so boldly to their Ruler. But Ozma sat silent and motionless and it was the little Wizard who answered Scraps.

“So the clover hasn’t been picked, eh?” he said. “I think it has. I think the boy hid it in his basket, and then gave the basket to you. I also think you dropped the clover into this vase, which stood in Princess Dorothy’s room, hoping to get rid of it so it would not prove the boy guilty. You’re a stranger here, Miss Patches, and so you don’t know that nothing can be hidden from our powerful Ruler’s Magic Picture—nor from the watchful eyes of the humble Wizard of Oz. Look, all of you!” With these words he waved his hands toward the vase on the table, which Scraps now noticed for the first time.

From the mouth of the vase a plant sprouted, slowly growing before their eyes until it became a beautiful bush, and on the topmost branch appeared the six-leaved clover which Ojo had unfortunately picked.

The Patchwork Girl looked at the clover and said: “Oh, so you’ve found it. Very well; prove he picked it, if you can.”

Ozma turned to Ojo.

“Did you pick the six-leaved clover?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “I knew it was against the Law, but I wanted to save Unc Nunkie and I was afraid if I asked your consent to pick it you would refuse me.”

“What caused you to think that?” asked the Ruler.

“Why, it seemed to me a foolish law, unjust and unreasonable. Even now I can see no harm in picking a six-leaved clover. And I—I had not seen the Emerald City, then, nor you, and I thought a girl who would make such a silly Law would not be likely to help anyone in trouble.”

Ozma regarded him musingly, her chin resting upon her hand; but she was not angry. On the contrary she smiled a little at her thoughts and then grew sober again.

“I suppose a good many laws seem foolish to those people who do not understand them,” she said; “but no law is ever made without some purpose, and that purpose is usually to protect all the people and guard their welfare. As you are a stranger, I will explain this Law which to you seems so foolish. Years ago there were many Witches and Magicians in the Land of Oz, and one of the things they often used in making their magic charms and transformations was a six-leaved clover. These Witches and Magicians caused so much trouble among my people, often using their powers for evil rather than good, that I decided to forbid anyone to practice magic or sorcery except Glinda the Good and her assistant, the Wizard of Oz, both of whom I can trust to use their arts only to benefit my people and to make them happier. Since I issued that Law the Land of Oz has been far more peaceful and quiet; but I learned that some of the Witches and Magicians were still practicing magic on the sly and using the six-leaved clovers to make their potions and charms. Therefore I made another Law forbidding anyone from plucking a six-leaved clover or from gathering other plants and herbs which the Witches boil in their kettles to work magic with. That has almost put an end to wicked sorcery in our land, so you see the Law was not a foolish one, but wise and just; and, in any event, it is wrong to disobey a Law.”

Ojo knew she was right and felt greatly mortified to realize he had acted and spoken so ridiculously. But he raised his head and looked Ozma in the face, saying:

“I am sorry I have acted wrongly and broken your Law. I did it to save Unc Nunkie, and thought I would not be found out. But I am guilty of this act and whatever punishment you think I deserve I will suffer willingly.”

Ozma smiled more brightly, then, and nodded graciously.

“You are forgiven,” she said. “For, although you have committed a serious fault, you are now penitent and I think you have been punished enough. Soldier, release Ojo the Lucky and—”

“I beg your pardon; I’m Ojo the Unlucky,” said the boy.

“At this moment you are lucky,” said she. “Release him, Soldier, and let him go free.”

The people were glad to hear Ozma’s decree and murmured their approval. As the royal audience was now over, they began to leave the Throne Room and soon there were none remaining except Ojo and his friends and Ozma and her favorites.

The girl Ruler now asked Ojo to sit down and tell her all his story, which he did, beginning at the time he had left his home in the forest and ending with his arrival at the Emerald City and his arrest. Ozma listened attentively and was thoughtful for some moments after the boy had finished speaking. Then she said:

“The Crooked Magician was wrong to make the Glass Cat and the Patchwork Girl, for it was against the Law. And if he had not unlawfully kept the bottle of Liquid of Petrifaction standing on his shelf, the accident to his wife Margolotte and to Unc Nunkie could not have occurred. I can understand, however, that Ojo, who loves his uncle, will be unhappy unless he can save him. Also I feel it is wrong to leave those two victims standing as marble statues, when they ought to be alive. So I propose we allow Dr. Pipt to make the magic charm which will save them, and that we assist Ojo to find the things he is seeking. What do you think, Wizard?”

“That is perhaps the best thing to do,” replied the Wizard. “But after the Crooked Magician has restored those poor people to life you must take away his magic powers.”

“I will,” promised Ozma.

“Now tell me, please, what magic things must you find?” continued the Wizard, addressing Ojo.

“The three hairs from the Woozy’s tail I have,” said the boy. “That is, I have the Woozy, and the hairs are in his tail. The six-leaved clover I—I—”

“You may take it and keep it,” said Ozma. “That will not be breaking the Law, for it is already picked, and the crime of picking it is forgiven.”

“Thank you!” cried Ojo gratefully. Then he continued: “The next thing I must find is a gill of water from a dark well.”

The Wizard shook his head. “That,” said he, “will be a hard task, but if you travel far enough you may discover it.”

“I am willing to travel for years, if it will save Unc Nunkie,” declared Ojo, earnestly.

“Then you’d better begin your journey at once,” advised the Wizard.

Dorothy had been listening with interest to this conversation. Now she turned to Ozma and asked: “May I go with Ojo, to help him?”

“Would you like to?” returned Ozma.

“Yes. I know Oz pretty well, but Ojo doesn’t know it at all. I’m sorry for his uncle and poor Margolotte and I’d like to help save them. May I go?”

“If you wish to,” replied Ozma.

“If Dorothy goes, then I must go to take care of her,” said the Scarecrow, decidedly. “A dark well can only be discovered in some out-of-the-way place, and there may be dangers there.”

“You have my permission to accompany Dorothy,” said Ozma. “And while you are gone I will take care of the Patchwork Girl.”

“I’ll take care of myself,” announced Scraps, “for I’m going with the Scarecrow and Dorothy. I promised Ojo to help him find the things he wants and I’ll stick to my promise.”

“Very well,” replied Ozma. “But I see no need for Ojo to take the Glass Cat and the Woozy.”

“I prefer to remain here,” said the cat. “I’ve nearly been nicked half a dozen times, already, and if they’re going into dangers it’s best for me to keep away from them.”

“Let Jellia Jamb keep her till Ojo returns,” suggested Dorothy. “We won’t need to take the Woozy, either, but he ought to be saved because of the three hairs in his tail.”

“Better take me along,” said the Woozy. “My eyes can flash fire, you know, and I can growl—a little.”

“I’m sure you’ll be safer here,” Ozma decided, and the Woozy made no further objection to the plan.

After consulting together they decided that Ojo and his party should leave the very next day to search for the gill of water from a dark well, so they now separated to make preparations for the journey.

Ozma gave the Munchkin boy a room in the palace for that night and the afternoon he passed with Dorothy—getting acquainted, as she said—and receiving advice from the Shaggy Man as to where they must go. The Shaggy Man had wandered in many parts of Oz, and so had Dorothy, for that matter, yet neither of them knew where a dark well was to be found.

“If such a thing is anywhere in the settled parts of Oz,” said Dorothy, “we’d prob’ly have heard of it long ago. If it’s in the wild parts of the country, no one there would need a dark well. P’raps there isn’t such a thing.”

“Oh, there must be!” returned Ojo, positively; “or else the recipe of Dr. Pipt wouldn’t call for it.”

“That’s true,” agreed Dorothy; “and, if it’s anywhere in the Land of Oz, we’re bound to find it.”

“Well, we’re bound to search for it, anyhow,” said the Scarecrow. “As for finding it, we must trust to luck.”

“Don’t do that,” begged Ojo, earnestly. “I’m called Ojo the Unlucky, you know.”