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to hug Dorothy. But now his eye was arrested by
the strange sight of the Patchwork Girl, and he

gazed upon her in mingled wonder and admiration.
Chapter Twenty-Seven

The Tin Woodman Objects
The Tin Woodman was one of the most important

personages in all Oz. Though Emperor of the
Winkies, he owed allegiance to Ozma, who ruled all

the land, and the girl and the tin man were warm
personal friends. He was something of a dandy and

kept his tin body brilliantly polished and his tin
joints well oiled. Also he was very courteous in

manner and so kind and gentle that everyone loved
him. The Emperor greeted Ojo and Scraps with

cordial hospitality and ushered the entire party
into his handsome tin parlor, where all the

furniture and pictures were made of tin. The walls
were paneled with tin and from the tin ceiling

hung tin chandeliers.
The Tin Woodman wanted to know, first of

all, where Dorothy had found the Patchwork
Girl, so between them the visitors told the story

of how Scraps was made, as well as the accident
to Margolotte and Unc Nunkie and how Ojo

had set out upon a journey to procure the things
needed for the Crooked Magician's magic

charm. Then Dorothy told of their adventures
in the Quadling Country and how at last they

succeeded in getting the water from a dark well.
While the little girl was relating these

adventures the Tin Woodman sat in an easy chair
listening with intense interest, while the others

sat grouped around him. Ojo, however, had kept his
eyes fixed upon the body of the tin Emperor, and

now he noticed that under the joint of his left
knee a tiny drop of oil was forming. He watched

this drop of oil with a fast-beating heart, and
feeling in his pocket brought out a tiny vial of

crystal, which he held secreted in his hand.
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 they 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.
"What in the world were you doing?" asked

the Tin Woodman.
"I caught a drop of oil that fell from your

knee-joint," confessed Ojo.
"A drop of oil!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman.

"Dear me, how careless my valet must have
been in oiling me this morning. I'm afraid I

shall have to scold the fellow, for I can't be
dropping oil wherever I go."

"Never mind," said Dorothy. Ojo seems glad
to have the oil, for some reason."

"Yes," declared the Munchkin boy, "I am
glad. For one of the things the Crooked Magician

sent me to get was a drop of oil from a live man's
body. I had no idea, at first, that there was such

a thing; but it's now safe in the little crystal
vial."

"You are very welcome to it, indeed," said
the Tin Woodman. "Have you now secured all

the things you were in search of?"
"Not quite all," answered Ojo. "There were five

things I had to get, and I have found four of
them. I have the three hairs in the tip of a

Woozy's tail, a six-leaved clover, a gill of water
from a dark well and a drop of oil from a live

man's body. The last thing is the easiest of all
to get, and I'm sure that my dear Unc Nunkie--and

good Margolotte, as well--will soon be restored to
life."

The Munchkin boy said this with much pride and
pleasure.

"Good!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman; "I
congratulate you. But what is the fifth and last

thing you need, in order to complete the magic
charm?"

"The left wing of a yellow butterfly," said
Ojo. "In this yellow country, and with your

kind assistance, that ought to be very easy to
find."

The Tin Woodman stared at him in amazement.
"Surely you are joking!" he said.

"No," replied Ojo, much surprised; "I am in
earnest."

"But do you think for a moment that I would
permit you, or anyone else, to pull the left wing

from a yellow butterfly?" demanded the Tin Woodman
sternly.

"Why not, sir?"
"Why not? You ask me why not? It would be

cruel--one of the most cruel and heartless deeds
I ever heard of," asserted the Tin Woodman.

"The butterflies are among the prettiest of all
created things, and they are very sensitive to

pain. To tear a wing from one would cause it
exquisite torture and it would soon die in great

agony. I would not permit such a wicked deed
under any circumstances!"

Ojo was astounded at hearing this. Dorothy, too,
looked grave and disconcerted, but she knew in her

heart that the Tin Woodman was right. The
Scarecrow nodded his head in approval of his

friend's speech, so it was evident that he agreed
with the Emperor's decision. Scraps looked from

one to another in perplexity.
"Who cares for a butterfly?" she asked.

"Don't you?" inquired the Tin Woodman.
"Not the snap of a finger, for I have no heart,"

said the Patchwork Girl. "But I want to help
Ojo, who is my friend, to rescue the uncle whom

he loves, and I'd kill a dozen useless butterflies
to enable him to do that."

The Tin Woodman sighed regretfully.
"You have kind instincts," he said, "and with a

heart you would indeed be a fine creature. I
cannot blame you for your heartless remark, as you

cannot understand the feelings of those who
possess hearts. I, for instance, have a very neat

and responsive heart which the wonderful Wizard
of Oz once gave me, and so I shall never--never--

never permit a poor yellow butterfly to be
tortured by anyone."

"The yellow country of the Winkies," said Ojo
sadly, "is the only place in Oz where a yellow

butterfly can be found."
"I'm glad of that," said the Tin Woodman.

"As I rule the Winkie Country, I can protect
my butterflies."

Unless I get the wing--just one left wing--"
said Ojo miserably, "I can't save Unc Nunkie."

"Then he must remain a marblestatue forever,"
declared the Tin Emperor, firmly.

Ojo wiped his eyes, for he could not hold back
the tears.

"I'll tell you what to do," said Scraps. "We'll
take a whole yellow butterfly, alive and well, to

the Crooked Magician, and let him pull the left
wing off."

"No, you won't," said the Tin Woodman.
"You can't have one of my dear little butterflies

to treat in that way.
"Then what in the world shall we do?" asked

Dorothy.
They all became silent and thoughtful. No

one spoke for a long time. Then the Tin Woodman
suddenly roused himself and said:

"We must all go back to the Emerald City
and ask Ozma's advice. She's a wise little girl,

our Ruler, and she may find a way to help Ojo
save his Unc Nunkie."

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. The boy was

utterly discouraged, and as he walked along he
groaned aloud.

"Is anything hurting you?" inquired the Tin
Woodman in a kindly tone, for the Emperor

was with the party.
"I'm Ojo the Unlucky," replied the boy. "I

might have known I would fail in anything
I tried to do."

"Why are you Ojo the Unlucky?" asked the tin
man.

"Because I was born on a Friday."
"Friday is not unlucky," declared the Emperor.

"It's just one of seven days. Do you suppose all
the world becomes unlucky one-seventh of the

time?"
"It was the thirteenth day of the month," said

Ojo.
"Thirteen! Ah, that is indeed a lucky number,"

replied the Tin Woodman. "All my good luck seems
to happen on the thirteenth. I suppose most

people never notice the good luck that comes to
them with the number 13, and yet if the least bit

of bad luck falls on that day, they blame it to
the number, and not to the proper cause."

"Thirteen's my lucky number, too," remarked the
Scarecrow

"And mine," said Scraps. "I've just thirteen
patches on my head."

"But," continued Ojo, "I'm left-handed."
"Many of our greatest men are that way,"

asserted the Emperor. "To be left-handed is
usually to be two-handed; the right-handed people

are usually one-handed."
"And I've a wart under my right arm," said Ojo.

"How lucky!" cried the Tin Woodman. "If
it were on the end of your nose it might be

unlucky, but under your arm it is luckily out


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