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