章节正文
that contained the precious powder had dropped
upon the stand and scattered its life-giving
grains over the machine. The phonograph was very
much alive, and began dancing a jig with the legs
of the table to which it was attached, and this
dance so annoyed Dr. Pipt that he kicked the thing
into a corner and pushed a bench against it, to
hold it quiet.
"You were bad enough before," said the Magician,
resentfully; "but a live phonograph is enough to
drive every sane person in the Land of Oz stark
crazy."
"No insults, please," answered the phonograph in
a surly, tone. "You did it, my boy; don't blame
me. "
"You've bungled everything, Dr. Pipt," added
the Glass Cat, contemptuously.
"Except me," said the Patchwork Girl, jumping up
to whirl merrily around the room.
"I think," said Ojo, almost ready to cry
through grief over Unc Nunkie's sad fate, "it
must all be my fault, in some way. I'm called
Ojo the Unlucky, you know."
"That's nonsense, kiddie," retorted the
Patchwork Girl cheerfully. "No one can be unlucky
who has the intelligence to direct his own
actions. The unlucky ones are those who beg for a
chance to think, like poor Dr. Pipt here. What's
the row about, anyway, Mr. Magic-maker?"
"The Liquid of Petrifaction has accidentally
fallen upon my dear wife and Unc Nunkie and
turned them into marble," he sadly replied.
"Well, why don't you sprinkle some of that
powder on them and bring them to life again?"
asked the Patchwork Girl.
The Magician gave a jump.
"Why, I hadn't thought of that!" he joyfully
cried, and grabbed up the golden bottle, with
which he ran to Margolotte.
Said the Patchwork Girl:
"Higgledy, piggledy, dee-
What fools magicians be!
His head's so thick
He can't think quick,
So he takes advice from me."
Standing upon the bench, for he was so
crooked he could not reach the top of his wife's
head in any other way, Dr. Pipt began shaking
the bottle. But not a grain of powder came out.
He pulled off the cover, glanced within, and
then threw the bottle from him with a wail of
despair.
"Gone-gone! Every bit gone," he cried.
"Wasted on that miserablephonograph when
it might have saved my dear wife!"
Then the Magician bowed his head on his
crooked arms and began to cry.
Ojo was sorry for him. He went up to the
sorrowful man and said softly:
"You can make more Powder of Life, Dr. Pipt."
"Yes; but it will take me six years--six long,
weary years of stirring four kettles with both
feet and both hands," was the agonized reply. "Six
years! while poor Margolotte stands watching me as
a marble image. "
"Can't anything else be done?" asked the
Patchwork Girl.
The Magician shook his head. Then he seemed to
remember something and looked up.
"There is one other compound that would destroy
the magic spell of the Liquid of Petrifaction and
restore my wife and Unc Nunkie to life," said he.
"It may be hard to find the things I need to make
this magic compound, but if they were found I
could do in an instant what will otherwise take
six long, weary years of stirring kettles with
both hands and both feet."
"All right; let's find the things, then,"
suggested the Patchwork Girl. "That seems a lot
more sensible than those stirring times with the
kettles."
"That's the idea, Scraps," said the Glass Cat,
approvingly. "I'm glad to find you have decent
brains. Mine are exceptionally good. You can
see em work; they're pink."
"Scraps?" repeated the girl. "Did you call me
'Scraps'? Is that my name?"
"I--I believe my poor wife had intended to
name you 'Angeline,'" said the Magician.
"But I like 'Scraps' best," she replied with a
laugh. "It fits me better, for my patchwork is
all scraps, and nothing else. Thank you for
naming me, Miss Cat. Have you any name of
your own?"
"I have a foolish name that Margolotte once
gave me, but which is quite undignified for
one of my importance," answered the cat. "She
called me 'Bungle.'"
"Yes," sighed the Magician; "you were a sad
bungle, taken all in all. I was wrong to make
you as I did, for a more useless, conceited and
brittle thing never before existed."
"I'm not so brittle as you think," retorted the
cat. "I've been alive a good many years, for
Dr. Pipt experimented on me with the first
magic Powder of Life he ever made, and so
far I've never broken or cracked or chipped any
part of me."
"You seem to have a chip on your shoulder,"
laughed the Patchwork Girl, and the cat went
to the mirror to see.
"Tell me," pleaded Ojo, speaking to the
Crooked Magician, "what must we find to make
the compound that will save Unc Nunkie?"
"First," was the reply, "I must have a six-
leaved clover. That can only be found in the green
country around the Emerald City, and six-leaved
clovers are very scarce, even there."
"I'll find it for you," promised Ojo.
"The next thing," continued the Magician,
"is the left wing of a yellow butterfly. That
color can only be found in the yellow country
of the Winkies, West of the Emerald City."
"I'll find it," declared Ojo. "Is that all?"
"Oh, no; I'll get my Book of Recipes and see
what comes next."
Saying this, the Magician unlocked a drawer
of his cabinet and drew out a small book covered
with blue leather. Looking through the pages
he found the recipe he wanted and said: "I
must have a gill of water from a dark well."
"What kind of a well is that, sir?" asked the
boy.
"One where the light of day never penetrates.
The water must be put in a gold bottle and brought
to me without any light ever reaching it.
"I'll get the water from the dark well," said
Ojo.
"Then I must have three hairs from the tip
of a Woozy's tail, and a drop of oil from a live
man's body."
Ojo looked grave at this.
"What is a Woozy, please?" he inquired.
"Some sort of an animal. I've never seen one,
so I can't describe it," replied the Magician.
"If I can find a Woozy, I'll get the hairs from
its tail," said Ojo. "But is there ever any oil in a
man's body?"
The Magician looked in the book again, to make
sure.
"That's what the recipe calls for," he replied,
"and of course we must get everything that is
called for, or the charm won't work. The book
doesn't say 'blood'; it says 'oil,' and there must
be oil somewhere in a live man's body or the
book wouldn't ask for it."
"All right," returned Ojo, trying not to feel
discouraged; "I'll try to find it."
The Magician looked at the little Munchkin
boy in a doubtful way and said:
"All this will mean a long journey for you;
perhaps several long journeys; for you must search
through several of the different countries of Oz
in order to get the things I need."
"I know it, sir; but I must do my best to save
Unc Nunkie."
"And also my poor wife Margolotte. If you save
one you will save the other, for both stand there
together and the same compound will restore them
both to life. Do the best you can, Ojo, and while
you are gone I shall begin the six years job of
making a new batch of the Powder of Life. Then, if
you should unluckily fail to secure any one of the
things needed, I will have lost no time. But if
you succeed you must return here as quickly as you
can, and that will save me much tiresomestirring
of four kettles with both feet and both hands."
"I will start on my journey at once, sir," said
the boy.
"And I will go with you," declared the Patchwork
Girl.
"No, no!" exclaimed the Magician. "You have no
right to leave this house. You are only a servant
and have not been discharged."
Scraps, who had been dancing up and down
the room, stopped and looked at him.
"What is a servant?" she asked.
"One who serves. A--a Sort of slave," he
explained.
"Very well," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'm going
to serve you and your wife by helping Ojo find the
things you need. You need a lot, you know, such as
are not easily found."
"It is true," sighed Dr. Pipt. "I am well aware
that Ojo has undertaken a serious task."
Scraps laughed, and resuming her dance she said:
"Here's a job for a boy of brains:
A drop of oil from a live man's veins;
A six-leaved clover; three nice hairs
From a Woozy's tail, the book declares
Are needed for the magic spell,
upon the stand and scattered its life-giving
grains over the machine. The phonograph was very
much alive, and began dancing a jig with the legs
of the table to which it was attached, and this
dance so annoyed Dr. Pipt that he kicked the thing
into a corner and pushed a bench against it, to
hold it quiet.
"You were bad enough before," said the Magician,
resentfully; "but a live phonograph is enough to
drive every sane person in the Land of Oz stark
crazy."
"No insults, please," answered the phonograph in
a surly, tone. "You did it, my boy; don't blame
me. "
"You've bungled everything, Dr. Pipt," added
the Glass Cat, contemptuously.
"Except me," said the Patchwork Girl, jumping up
to whirl merrily around the room.
"I think," said Ojo, almost ready to cry
through grief over Unc Nunkie's sad fate, "it
must all be my fault, in some way. I'm called
Ojo the Unlucky, you know."
"That's nonsense, kiddie," retorted the
Patchwork Girl cheerfully. "No one can be unlucky
who has the intelligence to direct his own
actions. The unlucky ones are those who beg for a
chance to think, like poor Dr. Pipt here. What's
the row about, anyway, Mr. Magic-maker?"
"The Liquid of Petrifaction has accidentally
fallen upon my dear wife and Unc Nunkie and
turned them into marble," he sadly replied.
"Well, why don't you sprinkle some of that
powder on them and bring them to life again?"
asked the Patchwork Girl.
The Magician gave a jump.
"Why, I hadn't thought of that!" he joyfully
cried, and grabbed up the golden bottle, with
which he ran to Margolotte.
Said the Patchwork Girl:
"Higgledy, piggledy, dee-
What fools magicians be!
His head's so thick
He can't think quick,
So he takes advice from me."
Standing upon the bench, for he was so
crooked he could not reach the top of his wife's
head in any other way, Dr. Pipt began shaking
the bottle. But not a grain of powder came out.
He pulled off the cover, glanced within, and
then threw the bottle from him with a wail of
despair.
"Gone-gone! Every bit gone," he cried.
"Wasted on that miserablephonograph when
it might have saved my dear wife!"
Then the Magician bowed his head on his
crooked arms and began to cry.
Ojo was sorry for him. He went up to the
sorrowful man and said softly:
"You can make more Powder of Life, Dr. Pipt."
"Yes; but it will take me six years--six long,
weary years of stirring four kettles with both
feet and both hands," was the agonized reply. "Six
years! while poor Margolotte stands watching me as
a marble image. "
"Can't anything else be done?" asked the
Patchwork Girl.
The Magician shook his head. Then he seemed to
remember something and looked up.
"There is one other compound that would destroy
the magic spell of the Liquid of Petrifaction and
restore my wife and Unc Nunkie to life," said he.
"It may be hard to find the things I need to make
this magic compound, but if they were found I
could do in an instant what will otherwise take
six long, weary years of stirring kettles with
both hands and both feet."
"All right; let's find the things, then,"
suggested the Patchwork Girl. "That seems a lot
more sensible than those stirring times with the
kettles."
"That's the idea, Scraps," said the Glass Cat,
approvingly. "I'm glad to find you have decent
brains. Mine are exceptionally good. You can
see em work; they're pink."
"Scraps?" repeated the girl. "Did you call me
'Scraps'? Is that my name?"
"I--I believe my poor wife had intended to
name you 'Angeline,'" said the Magician.
"But I like 'Scraps' best," she replied with a
laugh. "It fits me better, for my patchwork is
all scraps, and nothing else. Thank you for
naming me, Miss Cat. Have you any name of
your own?"
"I have a foolish name that Margolotte once
gave me, but which is quite undignified for
one of my importance," answered the cat. "She
called me 'Bungle.'"
"Yes," sighed the Magician; "you were a sad
bungle, taken all in all. I was wrong to make
you as I did, for a more useless, conceited and
brittle thing never before existed."
"I'm not so brittle as you think," retorted the
cat. "I've been alive a good many years, for
Dr. Pipt experimented on me with the first
magic Powder of Life he ever made, and so
far I've never broken or cracked or chipped any
part of me."
"You seem to have a chip on your shoulder,"
laughed the Patchwork Girl, and the cat went
to the mirror to see.
"Tell me," pleaded Ojo, speaking to the
Crooked Magician, "what must we find to make
the compound that will save Unc Nunkie?"
"First," was the reply, "I must have a six-
leaved clover. That can only be found in the green
country around the Emerald City, and six-leaved
clovers are very scarce, even there."
"I'll find it for you," promised Ojo.
"The next thing," continued the Magician,
"is the left wing of a yellow butterfly. That
color can only be found in the yellow country
of the Winkies, West of the Emerald City."
"I'll find it," declared Ojo. "Is that all?"
"Oh, no; I'll get my Book of Recipes and see
what comes next."
Saying this, the Magician unlocked a drawer
of his cabinet and drew out a small book covered
with blue leather. Looking through the pages
he found the recipe he wanted and said: "I
must have a gill of water from a dark well."
"What kind of a well is that, sir?" asked the
boy.
"One where the light of day never penetrates.
The water must be put in a gold bottle and brought
to me without any light ever reaching it.
"I'll get the water from the dark well," said
Ojo.
"Then I must have three hairs from the tip
of a Woozy's tail, and a drop of oil from a live
man's body."
Ojo looked grave at this.
"What is a Woozy, please?" he inquired.
"Some sort of an animal. I've never seen one,
so I can't describe it," replied the Magician.
"If I can find a Woozy, I'll get the hairs from
its tail," said Ojo. "But is there ever any oil in a
man's body?"
The Magician looked in the book again, to make
sure.
"That's what the recipe calls for," he replied,
"and of course we must get everything that is
called for, or the charm won't work. The book
doesn't say 'blood'; it says 'oil,' and there must
be oil somewhere in a live man's body or the
book wouldn't ask for it."
"All right," returned Ojo, trying not to feel
discouraged; "I'll try to find it."
The Magician looked at the little Munchkin
boy in a doubtful way and said:
"All this will mean a long journey for you;
perhaps several long journeys; for you must search
through several of the different countries of Oz
in order to get the things I need."
"I know it, sir; but I must do my best to save
Unc Nunkie."
"And also my poor wife Margolotte. If you save
one you will save the other, for both stand there
together and the same compound will restore them
both to life. Do the best you can, Ojo, and while
you are gone I shall begin the six years job of
making a new batch of the Powder of Life. Then, if
you should unluckily fail to secure any one of the
things needed, I will have lost no time. But if
you succeed you must return here as quickly as you
can, and that will save me much tiresomestirring
of four kettles with both feet and both hands."
"I will start on my journey at once, sir," said
the boy.
"And I will go with you," declared the Patchwork
Girl.
"No, no!" exclaimed the Magician. "You have no
right to leave this house. You are only a servant
and have not been discharged."
Scraps, who had been dancing up and down
the room, stopped and looked at him.
"What is a servant?" she asked.
"One who serves. A--a Sort of slave," he
explained.
"Very well," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'm going
to serve you and your wife by helping Ojo find the
things you need. You need a lot, you know, such as
are not easily found."
"It is true," sighed Dr. Pipt. "I am well aware
that Ojo has undertaken a serious task."
Scraps laughed, and resuming her dance she said:
"Here's a job for a boy of brains:
A drop of oil from a live man's veins;
A six-leaved clover; three nice hairs
From a Woozy's tail, the book declares
Are needed for the magic spell,
- intelligence [in´telidʒəns]
n.智力；消息 (初中英语单词) - liquid [´likwid] n.液体 a.流动的 (初中英语单词)
- sprinkle [´spriŋkəl] v.撒，洒 n.细雨；微量 (初中英语单词)
- miserable [´mizərəbəl] a.悲惨的；可怜的 (初中英语单词)
- marble [´mɑ:bəl] n.大理石 a.大理石的 (初中英语单词)
- compound [kəm´paund] n.&a.混合(的) v.合成 (初中英语单词)
- instant [´instənt] a.立即的 n.紧迫；瞬间 (初中英语单词)
- otherwise [´ʌðəwaiz] ad.另外 conj.否则 (初中英语单词)
- sensible [´sensəbəl] a.感觉得到的 (初中英语单词)
- useless [´ju:sləs] a.无用的，无价值的 (初中英语单词)
- scarce [skeəs, skers] a.缺乏的；稀有的 (初中英语单词)
- butterfly [´bʌtəflai] n.蝴蝶；蝶式 (初中英语单词)
- cabinet [´kæbinit] n.橱，柜；内阁 (初中英语单词)
- restore [ri´stɔ:] vt.(使)恢复；修复 (初中英语单词)
- merrily [´merili] ad.欢乐地；愉快地 (高中英语单词)
- nonsense [´nɔnsəns] n.胡说 int.胡说!废话 (高中英语单词)
- cheerfully [´tʃiəfuli] ad.高兴地，愉快地 (高中英语单词)
- magician [mə´dʒiʃən] n.魔法师；妖道；术士 (高中英语单词)
- repeated [ri´pi:tid] a.反复的；重复的 (高中英语单词)
- clover [´kləuvə] n.三叶草 (高中英语单词)
- recipe [´resipi] n.食谱；决窍；处方 (高中英语单词)
- doubtful [´dautful] a.怀疑的，可疑的 (高中英语单词)
- phonograph [´fəunəgrɑ:f] n.留声机 (英语四级单词)
- unlucky [ʌn´lʌki] a.倒霉的，不幸的 (英语四级单词)
- stirring [´stə:riŋ] a.活跃的；热闹的 (英语四级单词)
- emerald [´emərəld] n.纯绿宝石；翠绿色 (英语四级单词)
- trying [´traiiŋ] a.难堪的；费劲的 (英语四级单词)
- tiresome [´taiəsəm] a.令人厌倦的；讨厌的 (英语四级单词)
- exceptionally [ik´sepʃənli] ad.异常地；极，很 (英语六级单词)
- conceited [kən´si:tid] a.自负的；自夸的 (英语六级单词)
- cracked [krækt] a.有裂缝的；碎的；粗哑 (英语六级单词)
- speaking [´spi:kiŋ] n.说话 a.发言的 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
章节正文
京公网安备 11011202003401号
