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much superior to rag-time, and I've composed it in
honor of the Patchwork Girl, who has just
arrived."
"How did you know I had arrived?" asked Scraps,
much interested.
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"It's my business to know who's coming, for I'm
the Guardian of the Gate. Keep quiet while I play
you 'The Speckled Alligator.'"
It wasn't a very bad tune, nor a very good one,
but all listened respectfully while he shut his
eyes and swayed his head from side to side and
blew the notes from the little instrument. When it
was all over the Soldier with the Green Whiskers
said:
"Guardian, I have here a prisoner."
"Good gracious! A prisoner?" cried the little
man, jumping up from his chair. "Which one? Not
the Shaggy Man?"
"No; this boy."
"Ah; I hope his fault is as small as himself,"
said the Guardian of the Gate. "But what can he
have done, and what made him do it?"
"Can't say," replied the soldier. "All I know
is that he has broken the Law."
"But no one ever does that!"
"Then he must be innocent, and soon will be
released. I hope you are right, Guardian. Just now
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I am ordered to take him to prison. Get me a
prisoner's robe from your Official Wardrobe."
The Guardian unlocked a closet and took
from it a white robe, which the soldier threw
over Ojo. It covered him from head to foot, but
had two holes just in front of his eyes, so he
could see where to go. In this attire the boy
presented a very quaint appearance.
As the Guardian unlocked a gate leading
from his room into the streets of the Emerald
City, the Shaggy Man said to Scraps:
"I think I shall take you directly to Dorothy,
as the Scarecrow advised, and the Glass Cat
and the Woozy may come with us. Ojo must
go to prison with the Soldier with the Green
Whiskers, but he will he well treated and you
need not worry about him."
"What will they do with him?" asked Scraps.
"That I cannot tell. Since I came to the Land of
Oz no one has ever been arrested or imprisoned--
until Ojo broke the Law."
"Seems to me that girl Ruler of yours is making
a big fuss over nothing," remarked Scraps, tossing
her yarn hair out of her eyes with a jerk of her
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patched head. "I don't know what Ojo has done, but
it couldn't be anything very, bad, for you and I
were with him all the time."
The Shaggy Man made no reply to this speech and
presently the Patchwork Girl forgot all about Ojo
in her admiration of the wonderful city she had
entered.
They soon separated from the Munchkin boy, who
was led by the Soldier with the Green Whiskers
down a side street toward the prison. Ojo felt
very miserable and greatly ashamed of himself, but
he was beginning to grow angry because he was
treated in such a disgraceful manner. Instead of
entering the splendid Emerald City as a
respectable traveler who was entitled to a
welcome and to hospitality, he was being brought
in as a criminal, handcuffed and in a robe that
told all he met of his deep disgrace.
Ojo was by nature gentle and affectionate and if
he had disobeyed the Law of Oz it was to restore
his dear Unc Nunkie to life. His fault was more
thoughtless than wicked, but that did not alter
the fact that he had committed a fault. At first
he had felt sorrow and remorse, but the more he
thought about the unjust treatment he had
received--unjust merely because he considered it
so--the more he resented his arrest, blaming Ozma
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for making foolish laws and then punishing folks
who broke them. Only a six-leaved clover! A tiny
green plant growing neglected and trampled under
foot. What harm could there be in picking it? Ojo
began to think Ozma must be a very bad and
oppressive Ruler for such a lovely fairyland as
Oz. The Shaggy Man said the people loved her; but
how could they?
The little Munchkin boy was so busy thinking
these things--which many guilty prisoners have
thought before him--that he scarcely noticed all
the splendor of the city streets through which
they passed. Whenever they met any of the happy,
smiling people, the boy turned his head away in
shame, although none knew who was beneath the
robe.
By and by they reached a house built just beside
the great city wall, but in a quiet, retired
place. It was a pretty house, neatly painted and
with many windows. Before it was a garden filled
with blooming flowers. The Soldier with the Green [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]