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Baum, L. Frank (Lyman Frank), 1856-1919

"The Patchwork Girl of Oz"


The black dots grew larger as they advanced and
although the light was dim Dorothy thought they
looked like big kettles turned upside down. Just
beyond this place a jumble of huge, jagged rocks
lay scattered, rising to the mountains behind
them.
Our travelers preferred to attempt to climb
these rocks by daylight, and they realized that
for a time this would be their last night on the
plains.
Twilight had fallen by the time they came to the
trees, beneath which were the black, circular
objects they had marked from a distance. Dozens of
them were scattered around and Dorothy bent near
to one, which was about as tall as she was, to
examine it more closely. As she did so the top
flew open and out popped a dusky creature, rising
its length into the air and then plumping down
upon the ground just beside the little girl.
Another and another popped out of the circular,
pot-like dwelling, while from all the other black
objects came popping more creatures--very like
jumping-jacks when their boxes are unhooked--until
fully a hundred stood gathered around our little
group of travelers.
By this time Dorothy had discovered they
were people, tiny and curiously formed, but still
people.


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