Chapter Eighteen

Ojo is Forgiven

The next morning the Soldier with the Green

Whiskers went to the prison and took Ojo away to

the royal palace, where he was summoned to appear

before the girl Ruler for judgment. Again the

soldier put upon the boy the jeweled handcuffs and

white prisoner’s robe with the peaked top and

holes for the eyes. Ojo was so ashamed, both of

his disgrace and the fault he had committed, that

he was glad to be covered up in this way, so that

people could not see him or know who he was. He

followed the Soldier with the Green Whiskers very

willingly, anxious that his fate might be decided

as soon as possible.

The inhabitants of the Emerald City were polite

people and never jeered at the unfortunate; but it

was so long since they bad seen a prisoner that

they cast many curious looks toward the boy and

many of them hurried away to the royal palace to

be present during the trial.

When Ojo was escorted into the great Throne

Room of the palace he found hundreds of people

assembled there. In the magnificent emerald

throne, which sparkled with countless jewels, sat

Ozma of Oz in her Robe of State, which was

embroidered with emeralds and pearls. On her

right, but a little lower, was Dorothy, and on her

left the Scarecrow. Still lower, but nearly in

front of Ozma, sat the wonderful Wizard of Oz and

on a small table beside him was the golden vase

from Dorothy’s room, into which Scraps had dropped

the stolen clover.

At Ozma’s feet crouched two enormous beasts,

each the largest and most powerful of its kind.

Although these beasts were quite free, no one

present was alarmed by them; for the Cowardly Lion

and the Hungry Tiger were well known and respected

in the Emerald City and they always guarded the

Ruler when she held high court in the Throne Room.

There was still another beast present, but this

one Dorothy held in her arms, for it was her

constant companion, the little dog Toto. Toto knew

the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger and often

played and romped with them, for they were good

friends.

Seated on ivory chairs before Ozma, with a clear

space between them and the throne, were many of

the nobility of the Emerald City, lords and ladies

in beautiful costumes, and officials of the

kingdom in the royal uniforms of Oz. Behind these

courtiers were others of less importance, filling

the great hall to the very doors.

At the same moment that the Soldier with the

Green Whiskers arrived with Ojo, the Shaggy Man

entered from a side door, escorting the Patchwork

Girl, the Woozy and the Glass Cat. All these came

to the vacant space before the throne and stood

facing the Ruler.

“Hullo, Ojo,” said Scraps; “how are you?”

“All right,” he replied; but the scene awed the

boy and his voice trembled a little with fear.

Nothing could awe the Patchwork Girl, and although

the Woozy was somewhat uneasy in these splendid

surroundings the Glass Cat was delighted with the

sumptuousness of the court and the impressiveness

of the occasion—pretty big words but quite

expressive.

At a sign from Ozma the soldier removed Ojo’s

white robe and the boy stood face to face with the

girl who was to decide his punishment. He saw at a

glance how lovely and sweet she was, and his heart

gave a bound of joy, for he hoped she would be

merciful.

Ozma sat looking at the prisoner a long time.

Then she said gently:

“One of the Laws of Oz forbids anyone to

pick a six-leaved clover. You are accused of

having broken this Law, even after you had

been warned not to do so.

Ojo hung his head and while he hesitated how to

reply the Patchwork Girl stepped forward and spoke

for him.

“All this fuss is about nothing at all,” she

said, facing Ozma unabashed. “You can’t prove he

picked the six-leaved clover, so you’ve no right

to accuse him of it. Search him, if you like, but

you won’t find the clover; look in his basket and

you’ll find it’s not there. He hasn’t got it, so I

demand that you set this poor Munchkin boy free.”

The people of Oz listened to this defiance in

amazement and wondered at the queer Patchwork Girl

who dared talk so boldly to their Ruler. But Ozma

sat silent and motionless and it was the little

Wizard who answered Scraps.

“So the clover hasn’t been picked, eh?” he said.

“I think it has. I think the boy hid it in his

basket, and then gave the basket to you. I also

think you dropped the clover into this vase, which

stood in Princess Dorothy’s room, hoping to get

rid of it so it would not prove the boy guilty.

You’re a stranger here, Miss Patches, and so you

don’t know that nothing can be hidden from our

powerful Ruler’s Magic Picture—nor from the

watchful eyes of the humble Wizard of Oz. Look,

all of you!” With these words he waved his hands

toward the vase on the table, which Scraps now

noticed for the first time.

From the mouth of the vase a plant sprouted,

slowly growing before their eyes until it became a

beautiful bush, and on the topmost branch appeared

the six-leaved clover which Ojo had unfortunately

picked.

The Patchwork Girl looked at the clover and

said: “Oh, so you’ve found it. Very well; prove

he picked it, if you can.”

Ozma turned to Ojo.

“Did you pick the six-leaved clover?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “I knew it was against the

Law, but I wanted to save Unc Nunkie and I was

afraid if I asked your consent to pick it you

would refuse me.”

“What caused you to think that?” asked the

Ruler.

“Why, it seemed to me a foolish law, unjust and

unreasonable. Even now I can see no harm in

picking a six-leaved clover. And I—I had not seen

the Emerald City, then, nor you, and I thought a

girl who would make such a silly Law would not be

likely to help anyone in trouble.”

Ozma regarded him musingly, her chin resting

upon her hand; but she was not angry. On the

contrary she smiled a little at her thoughts and

then grew sober again.

“I suppose a good many laws seem foolish to

those people who do not understand them,” she

said; “but no law is ever made without some

purpose, and that purpose is usually to protect

all the people and guard their welfare. As you are

a stranger, I will explain this Law which to you

seems so foolish. Years ago there were many

Witches and Magicians in the Land of Oz, and one

of the things they often used in making their

magic charms and transformations was a six-leaved

clover. These Witches and Magicians caused so much

trouble among my people, often using their powers

for evil rather than good, that I decided to

forbid anyone to practice magic or sorcery except

Glinda the Good and her assistant, the Wizard of

Oz, both of whom I can trust to use their arts

only to benefit my people and to make them

happier. Since I issued that Law the Land of Oz

has been far more peaceful and quiet; but I

learned that some of the Witches and Magicians

were still practicing magic on the sly and using

the six-leaved clovers to make their potions and

charms. Therefore I made another Law forbidding

anyone from plucking a six-leaved clover or from

gathering other plants and herbs which the Witches

boil in their kettles to work magic with. That has

almost put an end to wicked sorcery in our land,

so you see the Law was not a foolish one, but wise

and just; and, in any event, it is wrong to

disobey a Law.”

Ojo knew she was right and felt greatly

mortified to realize he had acted and spoken so

ridiculously. But he raised his head and looked

Ozma in the face, saying:

“I am sorry I have acted wrongly and broken

your Law. I did it to save Unc Nunkie, and

thought I would not be found out. But I am

guilty of this act and whatever punishment you

think I deserve I will suffer willingly.”

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.”

The people were glad to hear Ozma’s decree and

murmured their approval. As the royal audience was

now over, they began to leave the Throne Room and

soon there were none remaining except Ojo and his

friends and Ozma and her favorites.

The girl Ruler now asked Ojo to sit down and

tell her all his story, which he did, beginning

at the time he had left his home in the forest

and ending with his arrival at the Emerald City

and his arrest. Ozma listened attentively and

was thoughtful for some moments after the boy

had finished speaking. Then she said:

“The Crooked Magician was wrong to make the

Glass Cat and the Patchwork Girl, for it was

against the Law. And if he had not unlawfully kept

the bottle of Liquid of Petrifaction standing on

his shelf, the accident to his wife Margolotte and

to Unc Nunkie could not have occurred. I can

understand, however, that Ojo, who loves his

uncle, will be unhappy unless he can save him.

Also I feel it is wrong to leave those two victims

standing as marble statues, when they ought to be

alive. So I propose we allow Dr. Pipt to make the

magic charm which will save them, and that we

assist Ojo to find the things he is seeking. What

do you think, Wizard?”

“That is perhaps the best thing to do,” replied

the Wizard. “But after the Crooked Magician

has restored those poor people to life you must

take away his magic powers.”

“I will,” promised Ozma.

“Now tell me, please, what magic things must you

find?” continued the Wizard, addressing Ojo.

“The three hairs from the Woozy’s tail I

have,” said the boy. “That is, I have the Woozy,

and the hairs are in his tail. The six-leaved

clover I—I—”

“You may take it and keep it,” said Ozma. “That

will not be breaking the Law, for it is already

picked, and the crime of picking it is forgiven.”

“Thank you!” cried Ojo gratefully. Then he

continued: “The next thing, I must find is a gill

of water from a dark well.’

The Wizard shook his head. “That,” said he,

“will be a hard task, but if you travel far enough

you may discover it.”

“I am willing to travel for years, if it will

save Unc Nunkie,” declared Ojo, earnestly.

“Then you’d better begin your journey at

once,” advised the Wizard.

Dorothy bad been listening with interest to

this conversation. Now she turned to Ozma and

asked: “May I go with Ojo, to help him?”

“Would you like to?” returned Ozma.

“Yes. I know Oz pretty well, but Ojo doesn’t

know it at all. I’m sorry for his uncle and poor

Margolotte and I’d like to help save them. May

I go?”

“If you wish to,” replied Ozma.

“If Dorothy goes, then I must go to take care of

her,” said the Scarecrow, decidedly. “A dark well

can only be discovered in some out-of-the-way

place, and there may be dangers there.”

“You have my permission to accompany Dorothy,”

said Ozma. “And while you are gone I will take

care of the Patchwork Girl.”

“I’ll take care of myself,” announced Scraps,

“for I’m going with the Scarecrow and Dorothy.

I promised Ojo to help him find the things he

wants and I’ll stick to my promise.”

“Very well,” replied Ozma. “But I see no need

for Ojo to take the Glass Cat and the Woozy.”

“I prefer to remain here,” said the cat. “I’ve

nearly been nicked half a dozen times, already,

and if they’re going into dangers it’s best for me

to keep away from them.”

“Let Jellia Jamb keep her till Ojo returns,”

suggested Dorothy. “We won’t need to take the

Woozy, either, but he ought to be saved because

of the three hairs in his tail.”

“Better take me along,” said the Woozy. “My eyes

can flash fire, you know, and I can growl—a

little.”

“I’m sure you’ll be safer here,” Ozma decided,

and the Woozy made no further objection to the

plan.

After consulting together they decided that Ojo

and his party should leave the very next day to

search for the gill of water from a dark well, so

they now separated to make preparations for the

journey.

Ozma gave the Munchkin boy a room in the palace

for that night and the afternoon he passed with

Dorothy—getting acquainted, as she said—and

receiving advice from the Shaggy Man as to where

they must go. The Shaggy Man had wandered in many

parts of Oz, and so had Dorothy, for that matter,

yet neither of them knew where a dark well was to

be found.

“If such a thing is anywhere in the settled

parts of Oz,” said Dorothy, “we’d prob’ly have

heard of it long ago. If it’s in the wild parts of

the country, no one there would need a dark

well. P’raps there isn’t such a thing.”

“Oh, there must he!” returned Ojo, positively;

“or else the recipe of Dr. Pipt wouldn’t call

for it.”

“That’s true,” agreed Dorothy; “and, if it’s

anywhere in the Land of Oz, we’re bound to find

it.”

“Well, we’re bound to search for it, anyhow,”

said the Scarecrow. “As for finding it, we must

trust to luck.”

“Don’t do that,” begged Ojo, earnestly. “I’m

called Ojo the Unlucky, you know.”