w courage. In a
couple of hours they stopped at a farmhouse, where the people were very
hospitable and invited them to dinner. The farm folk regarded Scraps
with much curiosity but no great astonishment, for they were accustomed
to seeing extraordinary people in the Land of Oz.

The woman of this house got her needle and thread and sewed up the
holes made by the porcupine quills in the Patchwork Girl's body, after
which Scraps was assured she looked as beautiful as ever.

"You ought to have a hat to wear," remarked the woman, "for that would
keep the sun from fading the colors of your face. I have some patches
and scraps put away, and if you will wait two or three days I'll make
you a lovely hat that will match the rest of you."

"Never mind the hat," said Scraps, shaking her yarn braids; "it's a
kind offer, but we can't stop. I can't see that my colors have faded a
particle, as yet; can you?"

"Not much," replied the woman. "You are still very gorgeous, in spite
of your long journey."

The children of the house wanted to keep the Glass Cat to play with, so
Bungle was offered a good home if she would remain; but the cat was too
much interested in Ojo's adventures and refused to stop.

"Children are rough playmates," she remarked to the Shaggy Man, "and
although this home is more pleasant than that of the Crooked Magician I
fear I would soon be smashed to pieces by the boys and girls."

After they had rested themselves they renewed their journey, finding
the road now smooth and pleasant to walk upon and the country growing
more beautiful the nearer they drew to the Emerald City.

By and by Ojo began to walk on the green grass, looking carefully
around him.

"What are you trying to find?" asked Scraps.

"A six-leaved clover," said he.

"Don't do that!" exclaimed the Shaggy Man, earnestly. "It's against the
Law to pick a six-leaved clover. You must wait until you get Ozma's
consent."

"She wouldn't know it," declared the boy.

"Ozma knows many things," said the Shaggy Man. "In her room is a Magic
Picture that shows any scene in the Land of Oz where strangers or
travelers happen to be. She may be watching the picture of us even now,
and noticing everything that we do."

"Does she always watch the Magic Picture?" asked Ojo.

"Not always, for she has many other things to do; but, as I said, she
may be watching us this very minute."

"I don't care," said Ojo, in an obstinate tone of voice; "Ozma's only a
g