I must have three hairs from the tip of a Woozy's tail, and a
drop of oil from a live man's body."

Ojo looked grave at this.

"What is a Woozy, please?" he inquired.

"Some sort of an animal. I've never seen one, so I can't describe it,"
replied the Magician.

"If I can find a Woozy, I'll get the hairs from its tail," said Ojo.
"But is there ever any oil in a man's body?"

The Magician looked in the book again, to make sure.

"That's what the recipe calls for," he replied, "and of course we must
get everything that is called for, or the charm won't work. The book
doesn't say 'blood'; it says 'oil,' and there must be oil somewhere in
a live man's body or the book wouldn't ask for it."

"All right," returned Ojo, trying not to feel discouraged; "I'll try to
find it."

The Magician looked at the little Munchkin boy in a doubtful way and
said:

"All this will mean a long journey for you; perhaps several long
journeys; for you must search through several of the different
countries of Oz in order to get the things I need."

"I know it, sir; but I must do my best to save Unc Nunkie."

"And also my poor wife Margolotte. If you save one you will save the
other, for both stand there together and the same compound will restore
them both to life. Do the best you can, Ojo, and while you are gone I
shall begin the six years job of making a new batch of the Powder of
Life. Then, if you should unluckily fail to secure any one of the
things needed, I will have lost no time. But if you succeed you must
return here as quickly as you can, and that will save me much tiresome
stirring of four kettles with both feet and both hands."

"I will start on my journey at once, sir," said the boy.

"And I will go with you," declared the Patchwork Girl.

"No, no!" exclaimed the Magician. "You have no right to leave this
house. You are only a servant and have not been discharged."

Scraps, who had been dancing up and down the room, stopped and looked
at him.

"What is a servant?" she asked.

"One who serves. A--a sort of slave," he explained.

"Very well," said the Patchwork Girl, "I'm going to serve you and your
wife by helping Ojo find the things you need. You need a lot, you know,
such as are not easily found."

"It is true," sighed Dr. Pipt. "I am well aware that Ojo has undertaken
a serious task."

Scraps laughed, and resuming her dance she said:

"Here's a job for a boy of brains:
A drop of oil from a live ma