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"Well, I declare," said the Patchwork Girl, seizing one of the bars of the chandelier and swinging from it, "we must peg one for the Shoemaker, for he has trapped us very cleverly." "Get off my foot, please," said the Lion to the Sawhorse. "And oblige me, Mr. Mule," remarked the Woozy, "by taking your tail out of my left eye."
And so Well, well! here's a little Munchkin boy, too. Shake hands, my little man. How are you?" Ojo placed his hand in the flabby stuffed glove that served the Scarecrow for a hand, and the Scarecrow pressed it so cordially that the straw in his glove crackled. Meantime, the Woozy had approached the Sawhorse and begun to sniff at it.
The last plant of all the row had captured the Woozy, and a big bunch in the center of the curled leaf showed plainly where he was. With his sharp knife the Shaggy Man sliced off the stem of the leaf and as it fell and unfolded out trotted the Woozy and escaped beyond the reach of any more of the dangerous plants. A Good Friend
So they went into the corridors, and there Dorothy almost stumbled over a queer girl who was dancing lightly along the passage. "Stop a minute, Scraps!" she called, "Have you seen Ozma this morning?" "Not I!" replied the queer girl, dancing nearer. "I lost both my eyes in a tussle with the Woozy last night, for the creature scraped 'em both off my face with his square paws.
"Darry," spoke Wolgast in a voice full of feeling, "you're not woozy to-day, are you?" "I don't believe I am," smiled Dave. "Well, you know, old chap, you've been unaccountably stale -or something -at times this season. You haven't been the real Darry -always. You're feeling in really bully form today?" "I'm pretty sure that I'm in good winning form," Dave replied. "Will that be enough?"
"Then go west," said the Woozy. "I know this road pretty well, for I've chased many a honey-bee over it." "Have you ever been to the Emerald City?" asked Scraps. "No. I am very shy by nature, as you may have noticed, so I haven't mingled much in society." "Are you afraid of men?" inquired the Patchwork Girl. "Me? With my heart-rending growl my horrible, shudderful growl? I should say not.
Dorothy said she believed the Woozy was a good beast, honest and faithful; but she added that she did not care much for the Glass Cat. "Still," said the Shaggy Man, "the Glass Cat is very pretty and if she were not so conceited over her pink brains no one would object to her as a companion."
You know that yourself. He was too self-willed for the job." "James was a bonehead I give you that. Then there was Hollis." "The man was mad." "Well, he went a bit woozy towards the end. It's enough to make a man bug-house when he has to play a part from morning to night with a hundred guys all ready to set the coppers wise to him. But now there is Steiner "
"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!
The Wizard spread the blankets on a bed of soft leaves and presently all of them except Scraps and the Sawhorse were fast asleep. Toto snuggled close to his friend the Lion, and the Woozy snored so loudly that the Patchwork Girl covered his square head with her apron to deaden the sound. The Czarover of Herku
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