Not far from where Dorothy and the Wizard stood, was a little maid, on her knees, digging with a trowel in the soft earth about a beautiful rambling rose bush that climbed above her on a blue trellis.
"Let's ask her where we can find Princess Ozana," suggested Dorothy.
A few steps brought them to the side of the maiden who wore a pretty blue apron with a pink petal design. On her hands were gardening gloves and her golden hair fell loosely down her back.
"I wonder," began the Wizard, "if you can tell us if the Princess Ozana is in?"
The little maid looked up, regarding the strangers with friendly curiosity. Dorothy saw that she was very lovely. Her eyes were as soft as shy woodland violets, and of the same purple hue; her skin as delicately colored as fragile petals, and her lips were like rosebuds.
"No," the maid replied with a suspicion of a smile in her voice, "Princess Ozana is not in her cottage at the moment."
"Perhaps you know where we can find her," suggested the Wizard.