and unwrapped the paper that surrounded it. Holding the charm in the palm of his hand he looked at it steadily and said these words:
“Dear Johnny Dooit, come to me.
I need you bad as bad can be.”
“Well, here I am,” said a cheery little voice; “but you shouldn’t say you need me bad, ‘cause I’m always, ALWAYS, good.”
At this they quickly whirled around to find a funny little man sitting on a big copper chest, puffing smoke from a long pipe. His hair was grey, his whiskers were grey; and these whiskers were so long that he had wound the ends of them around his waist and tied them in a hard knot underneath the leather apron that reached from his chin nearly to his feet, and which was soiled and scratched as if it had been used a long time. His nose was broad, and stuck up a little; but his eyes were twinkling and merry. The little man’s hands and arms were as hard and tough as the leather in his apron, and Dorothy thought Johnny Dooit looked as if he had done a lot of hard work in his lifetime.
“Good morning, Johnny,” said the shaggy man. “Thank you for coming to me so quickly.”
“I never waste time,” said the newcomer, promptly. “But what’s happened to you? Where did you get that donkey head? Really, I wouldn’t have known you at all, Shaggy Man, if I hadn’t looked at your feet.”
The shaggy man introduced Johnny Dooit to Dorothy and Toto and Button-Bright and the Rainbow’s Daughter, and told him the story of their adventures, adding that they were anxious now to reach the Emerald City in the Land of Oz, where Dorothy had friends who would take care of them and send them safe home again.
“But,” said he, “we find that we can’t cross this desert, which turns all living flesh that touches it into dust; so I have asked you to come and help us.”
Johnny Dooit puffed his pipe and looked carefully at the dreadful desert in front of them—stretching so far away they could not see its end.
“You must ride,” he said, briskly.
“What in?” asked the shaggy man.
“In a sand-boat, which has runners like a sled and sails like a ship. The wind will blow you swiftly across the desert and the sand cannot touch your flesh to turn it into dust.”
“Good!” cried Dorothy, clapping her hands delightedly. “That was the way the Magic Carpet took us across. We didn’t have to touch the horrid sand at all.”
“But where is the sand-boat?” asked the shaggy man, looking all around him.
“I’ll make you one,” said Johnny Dooit.
As he spoke, he knocked the ashes from his pipe and put it in his pocket. Then he unlocked the copper chest and lifted the lid, and Dorothy saw it was full of shining tools of all sorts and shapes.
Johnny Dooit moved quickly now—so quickly that they were astonished at the work he was able to accomplish. He had in his chest a tool for everything he wanted to do, and these must have been magic tools because they did their work so fast and so well.
The man hummed a little song as he worked, and Dorothy tried to listen to it. She thought the words were something like these:
The only way to do a thing
Is do it when you can,
And do it cheerfully, and sing
And work and think and plan.
The only real unhappy one
Is he who dares to shirk;
The only really happy one
Is he who cares to work.
Whatever Johnny Dooit was singing he was certainly doing things, and they all stood by and watched him in amazement.
He seized an axe and in a couple of chops felled a tree. Next he took a saw and in a few minutes sawed the treetrunk into broad, long boards. He then nailed the boards together into the shape of a boat, about twelve feet long and four feet wide. He cut from another tree a long, slender pole which, when trimmed of its branches and fastened upright in the center of the boat, served as a mast. From the chest he drew a coil of rope and a big bundle of canvas, and with these—still humming his song—he rigged up a sail, arranging it so it could be raised or lowered upon the mast.
Dorothy fairly gasped with wonder to see the thing grow so speedily before her eyes, and both Button-Bright and Polly looked on with the same absorbed interest.
“It ought to be painted,” said Johnny Dooit, tossing his tools back into the chest, “for that would make it look prettier. But ‘though I can paint it for you in three seconds it would take an hour to dry, and that’s a waste of time.”
“We don’t care how it looks,” said the shaggy man, “if only it will take us across the desert.”
“It will do that,” declared Johnny Dooit. “All you need worry about is tipping over. Did you ever sail a ship?”
“I’ve seen one sailed,” said the shaggy man.
“Good. Sail this boat the way you’ve seen a ship sailed, and you’ll be across the sands before you know it.”
With this he slammed down the lid of the chest, and the noise made them all wink. While they were winking the workman disappeared, tools and all.
12. The Deadly Desert Crossed
“Oh, that’s too bad!” cried Dorothy; “I wanted to thank Johnny Dooit for all his kindness to us.”
“He hasn’t time to listen to thanks,” replied the shaggy man; “but I’m sure he knows we are grateful. I suppose he is already at work in some other part of the world.”
They now looked more carefully at the sand-boat, and saw that the bottom was modeled with two sharp runners which would glide through the sand. The front of the sand-boat was pointed like the bow of a ship, and there was a rudder at the stern to steer by.
It had been built just at the edge of the desert, so that all its length lay upon the gray sand except the after part, which still rested on the strip of grass.
“Get in, my dears,” said the shaggy man; “I’m sure I can manage this boat as well as any sailor. All you need do is sit still in your places.”
Dorothy got in, Toto in her arms, and sat on the bottom of the boat just in front of the mast. Button-Bright sat in front of Dorothy, while Polly leaned over the bow. The shaggy man knelt behind the mast. When all were ready he raised the sail halfway. The wind caught it. At once the sand-boat started forward—slowly at first, then with added speed. The shaggy man pulled the sail way up, and they flew so fast over the Deadly Desert that every one held fast to the sides of the boat and scarcely dared to breathe.
The sand lay in billows, and was in places very uneven, so that the boat rocked dangerously from side to side; but it never quite tipped
