The Essential Works of L. Frank Baum. L. Frank Baum
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.”
19. Trouble with the Tottenhots
A day’s journey from the Emerald City brought the little band of adventurers to the home of Jack Pumpkinhead, which was a house formed from the shell of an immense pumpkin. Jack had made it himself and was very proud of it. There was a door, and several windows, and through the top was stuck a stovepipe that led from a small stove inside. The door was reached by a flight of three steps and there was a good floor on which was arranged some furniture that was quite comfortable.
It is certain that Jack Pumpkinhead might have had a much finer house to live in had he wanted it, for Ozma loved the stupid fellow, who had been her earliest companion; but Jack preferred his pumpkin house, as it matched himself very well, and in this he was not so stupid, after all.
The body of this remarkable person was made of wood, branches of trees of various sizes having been used for the purpose. This wooden framework was covered by a red shirt—with white spots in it—blue trousers, a yellow vest, a jacket of green-and-gold and stout leather shoes. The neck was a sharpened stick on which the pumpkin head was set, and the eyes, ears, nose and mouth were carved on the skin of the pumpkin, very like a child’s jack-o’-lantern.
The house of this interesting creation stood in the center of a vast pumpkin-field, where the vines grew in profusion and bore pumpkins of extraordinary size as well as those which were smaller. Some of the pumpkins now ripening on the vines were almost as large as Jack’s house, and he told Dorothy he intended to add another pumpkin to his mansion.
The travelers were cordially welcomed to this quaint domicile and invited to pass the night there, which they had planned to do. The Patchwork Girl was greatly interested in Jack and examined him admiringly.
“You are quite handsome,” she said; “but not as really beautiful as the Scarecrow.”
Jack turned, at this, to examine the Scarecrow critically, and his old friend slyly winked one painted eye at him.
“There is no accounting for tastes,” remarked the Pumpkinhead, with a sigh. “An old crow once told me I was very fascinating, but of course the bird might have been mistaken. Yet I have noticed that the crows usually avoid the Scarecrow, who is a very honest fellow, in his way, but stuffed. I am not stuffed, you will observe; my body is good solid hickory.”
“I adore stuffing,” said the Patchwork Girl.
“Well, as for that, my head is stuffed with pumpkin-seeds,” declared Jack. “I use them for brains, and when they are fresh I am intellectual. Just now, I regret to say, my seeds are rattling a bit, so I must soon get another head.”
“Oh; do you change your head?” asked Ojo.
“To be sure. Pumpkins are not permanent, more’s the pity, and in time they spoil. That is why I grow such a great field of pumpkins—that I may select a new head whenever necessary.”
“Who carves the faces on them?” inquired the boy.
“I do that myself. I lift off my old head, place it on a table before me, and use the face for a pattern to go by. Sometimes the faces I carve are better than others—more expressive and cheerful, you know—but I think they average very well.”
Before she had started on the journey Dorothy had packed a knapsack with the things she might need, and this knapsack the Scarecrow carried strapped to his back. The little girl wore a plain gingham dress and a checked sunbonnet, as she knew they were best fitted for travel. Ojo also had brought along his basket, to which Ozma had added a bottle of “Square Meal Tablets” and some fruit. But Jack Pumpkinhead grew a lot of things in his garden besides pumpkins, so he cooked for them a fine vegetable soup and gave Dorothy, Ojo and Toto, the only ones who found it necessary to eat, a pumpkin pie and some green cheese. For beds they must use the sweet dried grasses which Jack had strewn along one side of the room, but that satisfied Dorothy and Ojo very well. Toto, of