CHAPTER Nine.
They Meet the Woozy "There seem to be very few houses around here, after all," remarked Ojo, after they had walked for a time in silence.
"Never mind," said Scraps; "we are not looking for houses, but rather the road of yellow bricks.

Won't it be funny to run across something yellow in this dismal blue country ?" "There are worse colors than yellow in this country," asserted the Glass Cat, in a spiteful tone.
"Oh; do you mean the pink pebbles you call your brains, and your red heart and green eyes ?" asked the Patchwork Girl.
"No; I mean you, if you must know it," growled the cat.
"You're jealous!" laughed Scraps.

"You'd give your whiskers for a lovely variegated complexion like mine." "I wouldn't!" retorted the cat.

"I've the clearest complexion in the world, and I don't employ a beauty-doctor, either." "I see you don't," said Scraps.
"Please don't quarrel," begged Ojo.

"This is an important journey, and quarreling makes me discouraged.