cipe 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."

Chapter Nineteen

Trouble with the Tottenhots

A day's journey from the Emerald City brought the little band of
adventurers to the home of Jack Pumpkinhead, which was a house formed
from the shell of an immense pumpkin. Jack had made it himself and was
very proud of it. There was a door, and several windows, and through
the top was stuck a stovepipe that led from a small stove inside. The
door was reached by a flight of three steps and there was a good floor
on which was arranged some furniture that was quite comfortable.

It is certain that Jack Pumpkinhead might have had a much finer house
to live in had he wanted it, for Ozma loved the stupid fellow, who had
been her earliest companion; but Jack preferred his pumpkin house, as
it matched himself very well, and in this he was not so stupid, after
all.

The body of this remarkable person was made of wood, branches of trees
of various sizes having been used for the purpose. This wooden
framework was covered by a red shirt--with white spots in it--blue
trousers, a yellow vest, a jacket of green-and-gold and stout leather
shoes. The neck was a sharpened stick on which the pumpkin head was
set, and the eyes, ears, nose and mouth were carved on the skin of the
pumpkin, very like a child's jack-o'-lantern.

The house of this interesting creation stood in the center of a vast
pumpkin-field, where the vines grew in profusion and bore pumpkins of
extraordinary size as well as those which were smaller. Some of the
pumpkins now ripening on the vines were almost as large as Jack's
house, and he told Dorothy he intended to add another pumpkin to his
mansion.

The travelers were cordially welcomed to this quaint domicile and
invited to pass the night there, which they had planned to do. The
Patchwork Girl was greatly interested in Jack and examined him
admiringly.

"You are quite handsome," she said; "but not as really beautiful as the
Scarecrow."

Jack turned, at this, to examine the Scarecrow critically, and his old
friend slyly winked one painted eye at him.

"There is no accounting for tastes," remarked the Pumpkinhead, with a