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Updated: June 17, 2025
The two sat in the firelight a long time the old, white-bearded Munchkin and the little boy. Both were thinking. When it grew quite dark outside, Ojo said: "Eat your bread, Unc, and then we will go to bed." But Unc Nunkie did not eat the bread; neither did he go directly to bed. Long after his little nephew was sound asleep in the corner of the room the old man sat by the fire, thinking.
So the following morning the party started on the journey to the Emerald City, which they reached in due time without any important adventure. It was a sad journey for Ojo, for without the wing of the yellow butterfly he saw no way to save Unc Nunkie unless he waited six years for the Crooked Magician to make a new lot of the Powder of Life.
Presently the Tin Woodman changed his position, and at once Ojo, to the astonishment of all, dropped to the floor and held his crystal vial under the Emperor's knee joint. Just then the drop of oil fell, and the boy caught it in his bottle and immediately corked it tight. Then, with a red face and embarrassed manner, he rose to confront the others.
At first I couldn't think what to make her of, but finally in searching through a chest I came across an old patchwork quilt, which my grandmother once made when she was young." "What is a patchwork quilt?" asked Ojo. "A bed-quilt made of patches of different kinds and colors of cloth, all neatly sewed together.
At the foot of the mountain that separated the Country of the Munchkins from the Country of the Gillikins, the path divided. One way led to the left and the other to the right straight up the mountain. Unc Nunkie took this right-hand path and Ojo followed without asking why. He knew it would take them to the house of the Crooked Magician, whom he had never seen but who was their nearest neighbor.
"Why, we're not moving forward a bit, no matter how fast we walk," declared Ojo. "Now that we have stopped, we are moving backward! Can't you see? Just notice that rock." Scraps looked down at her feet and said: "The yellow bricks are not moving." "But the whole road is," answered Ojo. "True; quite true," agreed the Shaggy Man.
"True," replied Ojo, going a little nearer to peep through the bars of the gate. "What shall we do, Shaggy Man? If we had wings we might fly over the wall, but we cannot climb it and unless we get to the Emerald City I won't be able to find the things to restore Unc Nunkie to life." "All very true," answered the Shaggy Man, quietly; "but I know this gate, having passed through it many times."
So Scraps and Ojo picked up all the quills and tied them in a bundle so they might easily be carried. After this the Shaggy Man released Chiss and let him go, knowing that he was harmless to injure anyone. "It's the meanest trick I ever heard of," muttered the porcupine gloomily. "How would you like it, Shaggy Man, if I took all your shags away from you?"
"You needn't worry, Bungle," remarked the Patchwork Girl; "for if there is danger you can climb a tree. Ojo and I are not afraid; are we, Ojo?" "I am, a little," the boy admitted; "but this danger must be faced, if we intend to save poor Unc Nunkie. How shall we get over the fence?" "Climb," answered Scraps, and at once she began climbing up the rows of bars.
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."
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