Title: The Emerald City of Oz
Author: Baum, L. Frank (Lyman Frank), 1856-1919
Language: English
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The Emerald City of Oz


by

L. Frank Baum



Author of The Road to Oz, Dorothy and The Wizard in Oz, The Land of Oz,
etc.



Contents

   --Author's Note--
   1.  How the Nome King Became Angry
   2.  How Uncle Henry Got Into Trouble
   3.  How Ozma Granted Dorothy's Request
   4.  How The Nome King Planned Revenge
   5.  How Dorothy Became a Princess
   6.  How Guph Visited the Whimsies
   7.  How Aunt Em Conquered the Lion
   8.  How the Grand Gallipoot Joined The Nomes
   9.  How the Wogglebug Taught Athletics
  10.  How the Cuttenclips Lived
  11.  How the General Met the First and Foremost
  12.  How they Matched the Fuddles
  13.  How the General Talked to the King
  14.  How the Wizard Practiced Sorcery
  15.  How Dorothy Happened to Get Lost
  16.  How Dorothy Visited Utensia
  17.  How They Came to Bunbury
  18.  How Ozma Looked into the Magic Picture
  19.  How Bunnybury Welcomed the Strangers
  20.  How Dorothy Lunched With a King
  21.  How the King Changed His Mind
  22.  How the Wizard Found Dorothy
  23.  How They Encountered the Flutterbudgets
  24.  How the Tin Woodman Told the Sad News
  25.  How the Scarecrow Displayed His Wisdom
  26.  How Ozma Refused to Fight for Her Kingdom
  27.  How the Fierce Warriors Invaded Oz
  28.  How They Drank at the Forbidden Fountain
  29.  How Glinda Worked a Magic Spell
  30.  How the Story of Oz Came to an End



Author's Note


Perhaps I should admit on the title page that this book is "By L.
Frank Baum and his correspondents," for I have used many suggestions
conveyed to me in letters from children.  Once on a time I really
imagined myself "an author of fairy tales," but now I am merely an
editor or private secretary for a host of youngsters whose ideas I am
requestsed to weave into the thread of my stories.

These ideas are often clever.  They are also logical and interesting.
So I have used them whenever I could find an opportunity, and it is but
just that I acknowledge my indebtedness to my little friends.

My, what imaginations these children have developed!  Sometimes I am
fairly astounded by their daring and genius.  There will be no lack of
fairy-tale authors in the future, I am sure.  My readers have told me
what to do with Dorothy, and Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, and I have obeyed
their mandates.  They have also given me a variety of subjects to write
about in the future: enough, in fact, to keep me busy for some time.  I
am very proud of this alliance.  Children love these stories because
children have helped to create them.  My readers know what they want
and realize that I try to please them.  The result is very satisfactory
to the publishers, to me, and (I am quite sure) to the children.

I hope, my dears, it will be a long time before we are obliged to
dissolve partnership.


L. FRANK BAUM.

Coronado, 1910



1.  How the Nome King Became Angry

The Nome King was in an angry mood, and at such times he was very
disagreeable.  Every one kept away from him, even his Chief Steward
Kaliko.

Therefore the King stormed and raved all by himself, walking up and
down in his jewel-studded cavern and getting angrier all the time.
Then he remembered that it was no fun being angry unless he had some
one to frighten and make miserable, and he rushed to his big gong and
made it clatter as loud as he could.

In came the Chief Steward, trying not to show the Nome King how
frightened he was.

"Send the Chief Counselor here!" shouted the angry monarch.

Kaliko ran out as fast as his spindle legs could carry his fat, round
body, and soon the Chief Counselor entered the cavern.  The King
scowled and said to him:

"I'm in great trouble over the loss of my Magic Belt.  Every little
while I want to do something magical, and find I can't because the Belt
is gone.  That makes me angry, and when I'm angry I can't have a good
time.  Now, what do you advise?"

"Some people," said the Chief Counselor, "enjoy getting angry."

"But not all the time," declared the King.  "To be angry once in a
while is really good fun, because it makes others so miserable.  But to
be angry morning, noon and night, as I am, grows monotonous and
prevents my gaining any other pleasure in life.  Now what do you
advise?"

"Why, if you are angry because you want to do magical things and can't,
and if you don't want to get angry at all, my advice is not to want to
do magical things."

Hearing this, the King glared at his Counselor with a furious
expression and tugged at his own long white whiskers until he pulled
them so hard that he yelled with pain.

"You are a fool!" he exclaimed.

"I share that honor with your Majesty," said the Chief Counselor.

The King roared with rage and stamped his foot.

"Ho, there, my guards!" he cried.  "Ho" is a royal way of saying, "Come
here."   So, when the guards had hoed, the King said to them:

"Take this Chief Counselor and throw him away."

Then the guards took the Chief Counselor, and bound him with chains to
prevent his struggling, and threw him away.  And the King paced up and
down his cavern more angry than before.

Finally he rushed to his big gong and made it clatter like a fire
alarm.  Kaliko appeared again, trembling and white with fear.

"Fetch my pipe!" yelled the King.

"Your pipe is already here, your Majesty," replied Kaliko.

"Then get my tobacco!" roared the King.

"The tobacco is in your pipe, your Majesty," returned the Steward.

"Then bring a live coal from the furnace!" commanded the King.

"The tobacco is lighted, and your Majesty is already smoking your
pipe," answered the Steward.

"Why, so I am!" said the King, who had forgotten this fact; "but you
are very rude to remind me of it."

"I am a lowborn, miserable villain," declared the Chief Steward, humbly.

The Nome King could think of nothing to say next, so he puffed away at
his pipe and paced up and down the room.  Finally, he remembered how
angry he was, and cried out:

"What do you mean, Kaliko, by being so contented when your monarch is
unhappy?"

"What makes you unhappy?" asked the Steward.

"I've lost my Magic Belt.  A little girl named Dorothy, who was here
with Ozma of Oz, stole my Belt and carried it away with her," said the
King, grinding his teeth with rage.

"She captured it in a fair fight," Kaliko ventured to say.

"But I want it!  I must have it!  Half my power is gone with that
Belt!" roared the King.

"You will have to go to the Land of Oz to recover it, and your Majesty
can't get to the Land of Oz in any possible way," said the Steward,
yawning because he had been on duty ninety-six hours, and was sleepy.

"Why not?" asked the King.

"Because there is a deadly desert all around that fairy country, which
no one is able to cross.  You know that fact as well as I do, your
Majesty.  Never mind the lost Belt.  You have plenty of power left, for
you rule this underground kingdom like a tyrant, and thousands of Nomes
obey your commands.  I advise you to drink a glass of melted silver, to
quiet your nerves, and then go to bed."

The King grabbed a big ruby and threw it at Kaliko's head.  The Steward
ducked to escape the heavy jewel, which crashed against the door just
over his left ear.

"Get out of my sight!  Vanish!  Go away--and send General Blug here,"
screamed the Nome King.

Kaliko hastily withdrew, and the Nome King stamped up and down until
the General of his armies appeared.

This Nome was known far and wide as a terrible fighter and a cruel,
desperate commander.  He had fifty thousand Nome soldiers, all well
drilled, who feared nothing but their stern master.  Yet General Blug
was a trifle uneasy when he arrived and saw how angry the Nome King was.

"Ha!  So you're here!" cried the King.

"So I am," said the General.

"March your army at once to the Land of Oz, capture and destroy the
Emerald City, and bring back to me my Magic Belt!" roared the King.

"You're crazy," calmly remarked the General.

"What's that?  What's that?  What's that?"  And the Nome King danced
around on his pointed toes, he was so enraged.

"You don't know what you're talking about," continued the General,
seating himself upon a large cut diamond.  "I advise you to stand in a
corner and count sixty before you speak again.  By that time you may be
more sensible."

The King looked around for something to throw at General Blug, but as
nothing was handy he began to consider that perhaps the man was right
and he had been talking foolishly.  So he merely threw himself into his
glittering throne and tipped his crown over his ear and curled his feet
up under him and glared wickedly at Blug.

"In the first place," said the General, "we cannot march across the
deadly desert to the Land of Oz.  And if we could, the Ruler of that
country, Princess Ozma, has certain fairy powers that would render my
army helpless.  Had you not lost your Magic Belt we might have some
chance of defeating Ozma; but the Belt is gone."

"I want it!" screamed the King.  "I must have it."

"Well, then, let us try in a sensible way to get it," replied the
General.  "The Belt was captured by a little girl named Dorothy, who
lives in Kansas, in the United States of America."

"But she left it in the Emerald City, with Ozma," declared the King.

"How do you know that?" asked the General.

"One of my spies, who is a Blackbird, flew over the desert to the Land
of Oz, and saw the Magic Belt in Ozma's palace," replied the King with
a groan.

"Now that gives me an idea," said General Blug, thoughtfully.  "There
are two ways to get to the Land of Oz without traveling across the
sandy desert."

"What are they?" demanded the King, eagerly.

"One way is OVER the desert, through the air; and the other way is
UNDER the desert, through the earth."

Hearing this the Nome King uttered a yell of joy and leaped from his
throne, to resume his wild walk up and down the cavern.

"That's it, Blug!" he shouted.  "That's the idea, General!  I'm King of
the Under World, and my subjects are all miners.  I'll make a secret
tunnel under the desert to the Land of Oz--yes! right up to the Emerald
City--and you will march your armies there and capture the whole
country!"

"Softly, softly, your Majesty.  Don't go too fast," warned the General.
"My Nomes are good fighters, but they are not strong enough to conquer
the Emerald City."

"Are you sure?" asked the King.

"Absolutely certain, your Majesty."

"Then what am I to do?"

"Give up the idea and mind your own business," advised the General.
"You have plenty to do trying to rule your underground kingdom."

"But I want the Magic Belt--and I'm going to have it!" roared the Nome
King.

"I'd like to see you get it," replied the General, laughing maliciously.

The King was by this time so exasperated that he picked up his scepter,
which had a heavy ball, made from a sapphire, at the end of it, and
threw it with all his force at General Blug.  The sapphire hit the
General upon his forehead and knocked him flat upon the ground, where
he lay motionless.  Then the King rang his gong and told his guards to
drag out the General and throw him away; which they did.

This Nome King was named Roquat the Red, and no one loved him.  He was
a bad man and a powerful monarch, and he had resolved to destroy the
Land of Oz and its magnificent Emerald City, to enslave Princess Ozma
and little Dorothy and all the Oz people, and recover his Magic Belt.
This same Belt had once enabled Roquat the Red to carry out many wicked
plans; but that was before Ozma and her people marched to the
underground cavern and captured it.  The Nome King could not forgive
Dorothy or Princess Ozma, and he had determined to be revenged upon
them.

But they, for their part, did not know they had so dangerous an enemy.
Indeed, Ozma and Dorothy had both almost forgotten that such a person
as the Nome King yet lived under the mountains of the Land of Ev--which
lay just across the deadly desert to the south of the Land of Oz.

An unsuspected enemy is doubly dangerous.



2.  How Uncle Henry Got Into Trouble

Dorothy Gale lived on a farm in Kansas, with her Aunt Em and her Uncle
Henry.  It was not a big farm, nor a very good one, because sometimes
the rain did not come when the crops needed it, and then everything
withered and dried up.  Once a cyclone had carried away Uncle Henry's
house, so that he was obliged to build another; and as he was a poor
man he had to mortgage his farm to get the money to pay for the new
house.  Then his health became bad and he was too feeble to work.  The
doctor ordered him to take a sea voyage and he went to Australia and
took Dorothy with him.  That cost a lot of money, too.

Uncle Henry grew poorer every year, and the crops raised on the farm
only bought food for the family.  Therefore the mortgage could not be
paid.  At last the banker who had loaned him the money said that if he
did not pay on a certain day, his farm would be taken away from him.

This worried Uncle Henry a good deal, for without the farm he would
have no way to earn a living.  He was a good man, and worked in the
field as hard as he could; and Aunt Em did all the housework, with
Dorothy's help.  Yet they did not seem to get along.

This little girl, Dorothy, was like dozens of little girls you know.
She was loving and usually sweet-tempered, and had a round rosy face
and earnest eyes.  Life was a serious thing to Dorothy, and a wonderful
thing, too, for she had encountered more strange adventures in her
short life than many other girls of her age.

Aunt Em once said she thought the fairies must have marked Dorothy at
her birth, because she had wandered into strange places and had always
been protected by some unseen power.  As for Uncle Henry, he thought
his little niece merely a dreamer, as her dead mother had been, for he
could not quite believe all the curious stories Dorothy told them of
the Land of Oz, which she had several times visited.  He did not think
that she tried to deceive her uncle and aunt, but he imagined that she
had dreamed all of those astonishing adventures, and that the dreams
had been so real to her that she had come to believe them true.

Whatever the explanation might be, it was certain that Dorothy had been
absent from her Kansas home for several long periods, always
disappearing unexpectedly, yet always coming back safe and sound, with
amazing tales of where she had been and the unusual people she had met.
Her uncle and aunt listened to her stories eagerly and in spite of
their doubts began to feel that the little girl had gained a lot of
experience and wisdom that were unaccountable in this age, when fairies
are supposed no longer to exist.

Most of Dorothy's stories were about the Land of Oz, with its beautiful
Emerald City and a lovely girl Ruler named Ozma, who was the most
faithful friend of the little Kansas girl.  When Dorothy told about the
riches of this fairy country Uncle Henry would sigh, for he knew that a
single one of the great emeralds that were so common there would pay
all his debts and leave his farm free.  But Dorothy never brought any
jewels home with her, so their poverty became greater every year.

When the banker told Uncle Henry that he must pay the money in thirty
days or leave the farm, the poor man was in despair, as he knew he
could not possibly get the money.  So he told his wife, Aunt Em, of his
trouble, and she first cried a little and then said that they must be
brave and do the best they could, and go away somewhere and try to earn
an honest living.  But they were getting old and feeble and she feared
that they could not take care of Dorothy as well as they had formerly
done.  Probably the little girl would also be obliged to go to work.

They did not tell their niece the sad news for several days, not
wishing to make her unhappy; but one morning the little girl found Aunt
Em softly crying while Uncle Henry tried to comfort her.  Then Dorothy
asked them to tell her what was the matter.

"We must give up the farm, my dear," replied her uncle sadly, "and
wander away into the world to work for our living."

The girl listened quite seriously, for she had not known before how
desperately poor they were.

"We don't mind for ourselves," said her aunt, stroking the little
girl's head tenderly; "but we love you as if you were our own child,
and we are heart-broken to think that you must also endure poverty, and
work for a living before you have grown big and strong."

"What could I do to earn money?" asked Dorothy.

"You might do housework for some one, dear, you are so handy; or
perhaps you could be a nurse-maid to little children.  I'm sure I don't
know exactly what you CAN do to earn money, but if your uncle and I are
able to support you we will do it willingly, and send you to school.
We fear, though, that we shall have much trouble in earning a living
for ourselves.  No one wants to employ old people who are broken down
in health, as we are."

Dorothy smiled.

"Wouldn't it be funny," she said, "for me to do housework in Kansas,
when I'm a Princess in the Land of Oz?"

"A Princess!" they both exclaimed, astonished.

"Yes; Ozma made me a Princess some time ago, and she has often begged
me to come and live always in the Emerald City," said the child.

Her uncle and aunt looked at her in amazement.  Then the man said:

"Do you suppose you could manage to return to your fairyland, my dear?"

"Oh yes," replied Dorothy; "I could do that easily."

"How?" asked Aunt Em.

"Ozma sees me every day at four o'clock, in her Magic Picture.  She can
see me wherever I am, no matter what I am doing.  And at that time, if
I make a certain secret sign, she will send for me by means of the
Magic Belt, which I once captured from the Nome King.  Then, in the
wink of an eye, I shall be with Ozma in her palace."

The elder people remained silent for some time after Dorothy had
spoken.  Finally, Aunt Em said, with another sigh of regret:

"If that is the case, Dorothy, perhaps you'd better go and live in the
Emerald City.  It will break our hearts to lose you from our lives, but
you will be so much better off with your fairy friends that it seems
wisest and best for you to go."

"I'm not so sure about that," remarked Uncle Henry, shaking his gray
head doubtfully.  "These things all seem real to Dorothy, I know; but
I'm afraid our little girl won't find her fairyland just what she had
dreamed it to be.  It would make me very unhappy to think that she was
wandering among strangers who might be unkind to her."

Dorothy laughed merrily at this speech, and then she became very sober
again, for she could see how all this trouble was worrying her aunt and
uncle, and knew that unless she found a way to help them their future
lives would be quite miserable and unhappy.  She knew that she COULD
help them.  She had thought of a way already.  Yet she did not tell
them at once what it was, because she must ask Ozma's consent before
she would be able to carry out her plans.

So she only said:

"If you will promise not to worry a bit about me, I'll go to the Land
of Oz this very afternoon.  And I'll make a promise, too; that you
shall both see me again before the day comes when you must leave this
farm."

"The day isn't far away, now," her uncle sadly replied.  "I did not
tell you of our trouble until I was obliged to, dear Dorothy, so the
evil time is near at hand.  But if you are quite sure your fairy
friends will give you a home, it will be best for you to go to them, as
your aunt says."

That was why Dorothy went to her little room in the attic that
afternoon, taking with her a small dog named Toto.  The dog had curly
black hair and big brown eyes and loved Dorothy very dearly.

The child had kissed her uncle and aunt affectionately before she went
upstairs, and now she looked around her little room rather wistfully,
gazing at the simple trinkets and worn calico and gingham dresses, as
if they were old friends.  She was tempted at first to make a bundle of
them, yet she knew very well that they would be of no use to her in her
future life.

She sat down upon a broken-backed chair--the only one the room
contained--and holding Toto in her arms waited patiently until the
clock struck four.

Then she made the secret signal that had been agreed upon between her
and Ozma.

Uncle Henry and Aunt Em waited downstairs.  They were uneasy and a good
deal excited, for this is a practical humdrum world, and it seemed to
them quite impossible that their little niece could vanish from her
home and travel instantly to fairyland.

So they watched the stairs, which seemed to be the only way that
Dorothy could get out of the farmhouse, and they watched them a long
time.  They heard the clock strike four but there was no sound from
above.

Half-past four came, and now they were too impatient to wait any
longer.  Softly, they crept up the stairs to the door of the little
girl's room.

"Dorothy!  Dorothy!" they called.

There was no answer.

They opened the door and looked in.

The room was empty.



3.  How Ozma Granted Dorothy's Request

I suppose you have read so much about the magnificent Emerald City that
there is little need for me to describe it here.  It is the Capital
City of the Land of Oz, which is justly considered the most attractive
and delightful fairyland in all the world.

The Emerald City is built all of beautiful marbles in which are set a
profusion of emeralds, every one exquisitely cut and of very great
size.  There are other jewels used in the decorations inside the houses
and palaces, such as rubies, diamonds, sapphires, amethysts and
turquoises.  But in the streets and upon the outside of the buildings
only emeralds appear, from which circumstance the place is named the
Emerald City of Oz.  It has nine thousand, six hundred and fifty-four
buildings, in which lived fifty-seven thousand three hundred and
eighteen people, up to the time my story opens.

All the surrounding country, extending to the borders of the desert
which enclosed it upon every side, was full of pretty and comfortable
farmhouses, in which resided those inhabitants of Oz who preferred
country to city life.

Altogether there were more than half a million people in the Land of
Oz--although some of them, as you will soon learn, were not made of
flesh and blood as we are--and every inhabitant of that favored country
was happy and prosperous.

No disease of any sort was ever known among the Ozites, and so no one
ever died unless he met with an accident that prevented him from
living.  This happened very seldom, indeed.  There were no poor people
in the Land of Oz, because there was no such thing as money, and all
property of every sort belonged to the Ruler.  The people were her
children, and she cared for them.  Each person was given freely by his
neighbors whatever he required for his use, which is as much as any one
may reasonably desire.  Some tilled the lands and raised great crops of
grain, which was divided equally among the entire population, so that
all had enough.  There were many tailors and dressmakers and shoemakers
and the like, who made things that any who desired them might wear.
Likewise there were jewelers who made ornaments for the person, which
pleased and beautified the people, and these ornaments also were free
to those who asked for them.  Each man and woman, no matter what he or
she produced for the good of the community, was supplied by the
neighbors with food and clothing and a house and furniture and
ornaments and games.  If by chance the supply ever ran short, more was
taken from the great storehouses of the Ruler, which were afterward
filled up again when there was more of any article than the people
needed.

Every one worked half the time and played half the time, and the people
enjoyed the work as much as they did the play, because it is good to be
occupied and to have something to do.  There were no cruel overseers
set to watch them, and no one to rebuke them or to find fault with
them.  So each one was proud to do all he could for his friends and
neighbors, and was glad when they would accept the things he produced.

You will know by what I have here told you, that the Land of Oz was a
remarkable country.  I do not suppose such an arrangement would be
practical with us, but Dorothy assures me that it works finely with the
Oz people.

Oz being a fairy country, the people were, of course, fairy people; but
that does not mean that all of them were very unlike the people of our
own world.  There were all sorts of queer characters among them, but
not a single one who was evil, or who possessed a selfish or violent
nature.  They were peaceful, kind hearted, loving and merry, and every
inhabitant adored the beautiful girl who ruled them and delighted to
obey her every command.

In spite of all I have said in a general way, there were some parts of
the Land of Oz not quite so pleasant as the farming country and the
Emerald City which was its center.  Far away in the South Country there
lived in the mountains a band of strange people called Hammer-Heads,
because they had no arms and used their flat heads to pound any one who
came near them.  Their necks were like rubber, so that they could shoot
out their heads to quite a distance, and afterward draw them back again
to their shoulders.  The Hammer-Heads were called the "Wild People,"
but never harmed any but those who disturbed them in the mountains
where they lived.

In some of the dense forests there lived great beasts of every sort;
yet these were for the most part harmless and even sociable, and
conversed agreeably with those who visited their haunts.  The
Kalidahs--beasts with bodies like bears and heads like tigers--had once
been fierce and bloodthirsty, but even they were now nearly all tamed,
although at times one or another of them would get cross and
disagreeable.

Not so tame were the Fighting Trees, which had a forest of their own.
If any one approached them these curious trees would bend down their
branches, twine them around the intruders, and hurl them away.

But these unpleasant things existed only in a few remote parts of the
Land of Oz.  I suppose every country has some drawbacks, so even this
almost perfect fairyland could not be quite perfect.  Once there had
been wicked witches in the land, too; but now these had all been
destroyed; so, as I said, only peace and happiness reigned in Oz.

For some time Ozma had ruled over this fair country, and never was
Ruler more popular or beloved.  She is said to be the most beautiful
girl the world has ever known, and her heart and mind are as lovely as
her person.

Dorothy Gale had several times visited the Emerald City and experienced
adventures in the Land of Oz, so that she and Ozma had now become firm
friends.  The girl Ruler had even made Dorothy a Princess of Oz, and
had often implored her to come to Ozma's stately palace and live there
always; but Dorothy had been loyal to her Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, who
had cared for her since she was a baby, and she had refused to leave
them because she knew they would be lonely without her.

However, Dorothy now realized that things were going to be different
with her uncle and aunt from this time forth, so after giving the
matter deep thought she decided to ask Ozma to grant her a very great
favor.

A few seconds after she had made the secret signal in her little
bedchamber, the Kansas girl was seated in a lovely room in Ozma's
palace in the Emerald City of Oz.  When the first loving kisses and
embraces had been exchanged, the fair Ruler inquired:

"What is the matter, dear?  I know something unpleasant has happened to
you, for your face was very sober when I saw it in my Magic Picture.
And whenever you signal me to transport you to this safe place, where
you are always welcome, I know you are in danger or in trouble."

Dorothy sighed.

"This time, Ozma, it isn't I," she replied.  "But it's worse, I guess,
for Uncle Henry and Aunt Em are in a heap of trouble, and there seems
no way for them to get out of it--anyhow, not while they live in
Kansas."

"Tell me about it, Dorothy," said Ozma, with ready sympathy.

"Why, you see Uncle Henry is poor; for the farm in Kansas doesn't
'mount to much, as farms go.  So one day Uncle Henry borrowed some
money, and wrote a letter saying that if he didn't pay the money back
they could take his farm for pay.  Course he 'spected to pay by making
money from the farm; but he just couldn't.  An' so they're going to
take the farm, and Uncle Henry and Aunt Em won't have any place to
live.  They're pretty old to do much hard work, Ozma; so I'll have to
work for them, unless--"

Ozma had been thoughtful during the story, but now she smiled and
pressed her little friend's hand.

"Unless what, dear?" she asked.

Dorothy hesitated, because her request meant so much to them all.

"Well," said she, "I'd like to live here in the Land of Oz, where
you've often 'vited me to live.  But I can't, you know, unless Uncle
Henry and Aunt Em could live here too."

"Of course not," exclaimed the Ruler of Oz, laughing gaily.  "So, in
order to get you, little friend, we must invite your Uncle and Aunt to
live in Oz, also."

"Oh, will you, Ozma?" cried Dorothy, clasping her chubby little hands
eagerly.  "Will you bring them here with the Magic Belt, and give them
a nice little farm in the Munchkin Country, or the Winkie Country--or
some other place?"

"To be sure," answered Ozma, full of joy at the chance to please her
little friend.  "I have long been thinking of this very thing, Dorothy
dear, and often I have had it in my mind to propose it to you.  I am
sure your uncle and aunt must be good and worthy people, or you would
not love them so much; and for YOUR friends, Princess, there is always
room in the Land of Oz."

Dorothy was delighted, yet not altogether surprised, for she had clung
to the hope that Ozma would be kind enough to grant her request.  When,
indeed, had her powerful and faithful friend refused her anything?

"But you must not call me 'Princess'," she said; "for after this I
shall live on the little farm with Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, and
princesses ought not to live on farms."

"Princess Dorothy will not," replied Ozma with her sweet smile.  "You
are going to live in your own rooms in this palace, and be my constant
companion."

"But Uncle Henry--" began Dorothy.

"Oh, he is old, and has worked enough in his lifetime," interrupted the
girl Ruler; "so we must find a place for your uncle and aunt where they
will be comfortable and happy and need not work more than they care to.
When shall we transport them here, Dorothy?"

"I promised to go and see them again before they were turned out of the
farmhouse," answered Dorothy; "so--perhaps next Saturday--"

"But why wait so long?" asked Ozma.  "And why make the journey back to
Kansas again?  Let us surprise them, and bring them here without any
warning."

"I'm not sure that they believe in the Land of Oz," said Dorothy,
"though I've told 'em 'bout it lots of times."

"They'll believe when they see it," declared Ozma; "and if they are
told they are to make a magical journey to our fairyland, it may make
them nervous.  I think the best way will be to use the Magic Belt
without warning them, and when they have arrived you can explain to
them whatever they do not understand."

"Perhaps that's best," decided Dorothy.  "There isn't much use in their
staying at the farm until they are put out, 'cause it's much nicer
here."

"Then to-morrow morning they shall come here," said Princess Ozma.  "I
will order Jellia Jamb, who is the palace housekeeper, to have rooms
all prepared for them, and after breakfast we will get the Magic Belt
and by its aid transport your uncle and aunt to the Emerald City."

"Thank you, Ozma!" cried Dorothy, kissing her friend gratefully.

"And now," Ozma proposed, "let us take a walk in the gardens before we
dress for dinner.  Come, Dorothy dear!"



4.  How The Nome King Planned Revenge

The reason most people are bad is because they do not try to be good.
Now, the Nome King had never tried to be good, so he was very bad
indeed.  Having decided to conquer the Land of Oz and to destroy the
Emerald City and enslave all its people, King Roquat the Red kept
planning ways to do this dreadful thing, and the more he planned the
more he believed he would be able to accomplish it.

About the time Dorothy went to Ozma the Nome King called his Chief
Steward to him and said:

"Kaliko, I think I shall make you the General of my armies."

"I think you won't," replied Kaliko, positively.

"Why not?" inquired the King, reaching for his scepter with the big
sapphire.

"Because I'm your Chief Steward and know nothing of warfare," said
Kaliko, preparing to dodge if anything were thrown at him.  "I manage
all the affairs of your kingdom better than you could yourself, and
you'll never find another Steward as good as I am.  But there are a
hundred Nomes better fitted to command your army, and your Generals get
thrown away so often that I have no desire to be one of them."

"Ah, there is some truth in your remarks, Kaliko," remarked the King,
deciding not to throw the scepter.  "Summon my army to assemble in the
Great Cavern."

Kaliko bowed and retired, and in a few minutes returned to say that the
army was assembled.  So the King went out upon a balcony that
overlooked the Great Cavern, where fifty thousand Nomes, all armed with
swords and pikes, stood marshaled in military array.

When they were not required as soldiers all these Nomes were metal
workers and miners, and they had hammered so much at the forges and dug
so hard with pick and shovel that they had acquired great muscular
strength.  They were strangely formed creatures, rather round and not
very tall.  Their toes were curly and their ears broad and flat.

In time of war every Nome left his forge or mine and became part of the
great army of King Roquat.  The soldiers wore rock-colored uniforms and
were excellently drilled.

The King looked upon this tremendous army, which stood silently arrayed
before him, and a cruel smile curled the corners of his mouth, for he
saw that his legions were very powerful.  Then he addressed them from
the balcony, saying:

"I have thrown away General Blug, because he did not please me.  So I
want another General to command this army.  Who is next in command?"

"I am," replied Colonel Crinkle, a dapper-looking Nome, as he stepped
forward to salute his monarch.

The King looked at him carefully and said:

"I want you to march this army through an underground tunnel, which I
am going to bore, to the Emerald City of Oz.  When you get there I want
you to conquer the Oz people, destroy them and their city, and bring
all their gold and silver and precious stones back to my cavern.  Also
you are to recapture my Magic Belt and return it to me.  Will you do
this, General Crinkle?"

"No, your Majesty," replied the Nome; "for it can't be done."

"Oh indeed!" exclaimed the King.  Then he turned to his servants and
said: "Please take General Crinkle to the torture chamber.  There you
will kindly slice him into thin slices.  Afterward you may feed him to
the seven-headed dogs."

"Anything to oblige your Majesty," replied the servants, politely, and
led the condemned man away.

When they had gone, the King addressed the army again.

"Listen!" said he.  "The General who is to command my armies must
promise to carry out my orders.  If he fails he will share the fate of
poor Crinkle.  Now, then, who will volunteer to lead my hosts to the
Emerald City?"

For a time no one moved and all were silent.  Then an old Nome with
white whiskers so long that they were tied around his waist to prevent
their tripping him up, stepped out of the ranks and saluted the King.

"I'd like to ask a few questions, your Majesty," he said.

"Go ahead," replied the King.

"These Oz people are quite good, are they not?"

"As good as apple pie," said the King.

"And they are happy, I suppose?" continued the old Nome.

"Happy as the day is long," said the King.

"And contented and prosperous?" inquired the Nome.

"Very much so," said the King.

"Well, your Majesty," remarked he of the white whiskers, "I think I
should like to undertake the job, so I'll be your General.  I hate good
people; I detest happy people; I'm opposed to any one who is contented
and prosperous.  That is why I am so fond of your Majesty.  Make me
your General and I'll promise to conquer and destroy the Oz people.  If
I fail I'm ready to be sliced thin and fed to the seven-headed dogs."

"Very good!  Very good, indeed!  That's the way to talk!" cried Roquat
the Red, who was greatly pleased.  "What is your name, General?"

"I'm called Guph, your Majesty."

"Well, Guph, come with me to my private cave, and we'll talk it over."
Then he turned to the army.  "Nomes and soldiers," said he, "you are to
obey the commands of General Guph until he becomes dog-feed.  Any man
who fails to obey his new General will be promptly thrown away.  You
are now dismissed."

Guph went to the King's private cave and sat down upon an amethyst
chair and put his feet on the arm of the King's ruby throne.  Then he
lighted his pipe and threw the live coal he had taken from his pocket
upon the King's left foot and puffed the smoke into the King's eyes and
made himself comfortable.  For he was a wise old Nome, and he knew that
the best way to get along with Roquat the Red was to show that he was
not afraid of him.

"I'm ready for the talk, your Majesty," he said.

The King coughed and looked at his new General fiercely.

"Do you not tremble to take such liberties with your monarch?" he asked.

"Oh no," replied Guph, calmly, and he blew a wreath of smoke that
curled around the King's nose and made him sneeze.  "You want to
conquer the Emerald City, and I'm the only Nome in all your dominions
who can conquer it.  So you will be very careful not to hurt me until I
have carried out your wishes.  After that--"

"Well, what then?" inquired the King.

"Then you will be so grateful to me that you won't care to hurt me,"
replied the General.

"That is a very good argument," said Roquat.  "But suppose you fail?"

"Then it's the slicing machine.  I agree to that," announced Guph.
"But if you do as I tell you there will be no failure.  The trouble
with you, Roquat, is that you don't think carefully enough.  I do.  You
would go ahead and march through your tunnel into Oz, and get defeated
and driven back.  I won't.  And the reason I won't is because when I
march I'll have all my plans made, and a host of allies to assist my
Nomes."

"What do you mean by that?" asked the King.

"I'll explain, King Roquat.  You're going to attack a fairy country,
and a mighty fairy country, too.  They haven't much of an army in Oz,
but the Princess who ruled them has a fairy wand; and the little girl
Dorothy has your Magic Belt; and at the North of the Emerald City lives
a clever sorceress called Glinda the Good, who commands the spirits of
the air.  Also I have heard that there is a wonderful Wizard in Ozma's
palace, who is so skillful that people used to pay him money in America
to see him perform.  So you see it will be no easy thing to overcome
all this magic."

"We have fifty thousand soldiers!" cried the King proudly.

"Yes; but they are Nomes," remarked Guph, taking a silk handkerchief
from the King's pocket and wiping his own pointed shoes with it.
"Nomes are immortals, but they are not strong on magic.  When you lost
your famous Belt the greater part of your own power was gone from you.
Against Ozma you and your Nomes would have no show at all."

Roquat's eyes flashed angrily.

"Then away you go to the slicing machine!" he cried.

"Not yet," said the General, filling his pipe from the King's private
tobacco pouch.

"What do you propose to do?" asked the monarch.

"I propose to obtain the power we need," answered Guph.  "There are a
good many evil creatures who have magic powers sufficient to destroy
and conquer the Land of Oz.  We will get them on our side, band them
all together, and then take Ozma and her people by surprise.  It's all
very simple and easy when you know how.  Alone, we should be helpless
to injure the Ruler of Oz, but with the aid of the evil powers we can
summon we shall easily succeed."

King Roquat was delighted with this idea, for he realized how clever it
was.

"Surely, Guph, you are the greatest General I have ever had!" he
exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with joy.  "You must go at once and make
arrangements with the evil powers to assist us, and meantime I'll begin
to dig the tunnel."

"I thought you'd agree with me, Roquat," replied the new General.
"I'll start this very afternoon to visit the Chief of the Whimsies."



5.  How Dorothy Became a Princess

When the people of the Emerald City heard that Dorothy had returned to
them every one was eager to see her, for the little girl was a general
favorite in the Land of Oz.  From time to time some of the folk from
the great outside world had found their way into this fairyland, but
all except one had been companions of Dorothy and had turned out to be
very agreeable people.  The exception I speak of was the wonderful
Wizard of Oz, a sleight-of-hand performer from Omaha who went up in a
balloon and was carried by a current of air to the Emerald City.  His
queer and puzzling tricks made the people of Oz believe him a great
wizard for a time, and he ruled over them until Dorothy arrived on her
first visit and showed the Wizard to be a mere humbug.  He was a
gentle, kind-hearted little man, and Dorothy grew to like him
afterward.  When, after an absence, the Wizard returned to the Land of
Oz, Ozma received him graciously and gave him a home in a part of the
palace.

In addition to the Wizard two other personages from the outside world
had been allowed to make their home in the Emerald City.  The first was
a quaint Shaggy Man, whom Ozma had made the Governor of the Royal
Storehouses, and the second a Yellow Hen named Billina, who had a fine
house in the gardens back of the palace, where she looked after a large
family.  Both these had been old comrades of Dorothy, so you see the
little girl was quite an important personage in Oz, and the people
thought she had brought them good luck, and loved her next best to
Ozma.  During her several visits this little girl had been the means of
destroying two wicked witches who oppressed the people, and she had
discovered a live scarecrow who was now one of the most popular
personages in all the fairy country.  With the Scarecrow's help she had
rescued Nick Chopper, a Tin Woodman, who had rusted in a lonely forest,
and the tin man was now the Emperor of the Country of the Winkies and
much beloved because of his kind heart.  No wonder the people thought
Dorothy had brought them good luck!  Yet, strange as it may seem, she
had accomplished all these wonders not because she was a fairy or had
any magical powers whatever, but because she was a simple, sweet and
true little girl who was honest to herself and to all whom she met.  In
this world in which we live simplicity and kindness are the only magic
wands that work wonders, and in the Land of Oz Dorothy found these same
qualities had won for her the love and admiration of the people.
Indeed, the little girl had made many warm friends in the fairy
country, and the only real grief the Ozites had ever experienced was
when Dorothy left them and returned to her Kansas home.

Now she received a joyful welcome, although no one except Ozma knew at
first that she had finally come to stay for good and all.

That evening Dorothy had many callers, and among them were such
important people as Tiktok, a machine man who thought and spoke and
moved by clockwork; her old companion the genial Shaggy Man; Jack
Pumpkinhead, whose body was brush-wood and whose head was a ripe
pumpkin with a face carved upon it; the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry
Tiger, two great beasts from the forest, who served Princess Ozma, and
Professor H. M. Wogglebug, T.E.  This wogglebug was a remarkable
creature.  He had once been a tiny little bug, crawling around in a
school-room, but he was discovered and highly magnified so that he
could be seen more plainly, and while in this magnified condition he
had escaped.  He had always remained big, and he dressed like a dandy
and was so full of knowledge and information (which are distinct
acquirements) that he had been made a Professor and the head of the
Royal College.

Dorothy had a nice visit with these old friends, and also talked a long
time with the Wizard, who was little and old and withered and dried up,
but as merry and active as a child.  Afterward, she went to see
Billina's fast-growing family of chicks.

Toto, Dorothy's little black dog, also met with a cordial reception.
Toto was an especial friend of the Shaggy Man, and he knew every one
else.  Being the only dog in the Land of Oz, he was highly respected by
the people, who believed animals entitled to every consideration if
they behaved themselves properly.

Dorothy had four lovely rooms in the palace, which were always reserved
for her use and were called "Dorothy's rooms."  These consisted of a
beautiful sitting room, a dressing room, a dainty bedchamber and a big
marble bathroom.  And in these rooms were everything that heart could
desire, placed there with loving thoughtfulness by Ozma for her little
friend's use.  The royal dressmakers had the little girl's measure, so
they kept the closets in her dressing room filled with lovely dresses
of every description and suitable for every occasion.  No wonder
Dorothy had refrained from bringing with her her old calico and gingham
dresses!  Here everything that was dear to a little girl's heart was
supplied in profusion, and nothing so rich and beautiful could ever
have been found in the biggest department stores in America.  Of course
Dorothy enjoyed all these luxuries, and the only reason she had
heretofore preferred to live in Kansas was because her uncle and aunt
loved her and needed her with them.

Now, however, all was to be changed, and Dorothy was really more
delighted to know that her dear relatives were to share in her good
fortune and enjoy the delights of the Land of Oz, than she was to
possess such luxury for herself.

Next morning, at Ozma's request, Dorothy dressed herself in a pretty
sky-blue gown of rich silk, trimmed with real pearls.  The buckles of
her shoes were set with pearls, too, and more of these priceless gems
were on a lovely coronet which she wore upon her forehead.  "For," said
her friend Ozma, "from this time forth, my dear, you must assume your
rightful rank as a Princess of Oz, and being my chosen companion you
must dress in a way befitting the dignity of your position."

Dorothy agreed to this, although she knew that neither gowns nor jewels
could make her anything else than the simple, unaffected little girl
she had always been.

As soon as they had breakfasted--the girls eating together in Ozma's
pretty boudoir--the Ruler of Oz said:

"Now, dear friend, we will use the Magic Belt to transport your uncle
and aunt from Kansas to the Emerald City.  But I think it would be
fitting, in receiving such distinguished guests, for us to sit in my
Throne Room."

"Oh, they're not very 'stinguished, Ozma," said Dorothy.  "They're just
plain people, like me."

"Being your friends and relatives, Princess Dorothy, they are certainly
distinguished," replied the Ruler, with a smile.

"They--they won't hardly know what to make of all your splendid
furniture and things," protested Dorothy, gravely.  "It may scare 'em
to see your grand Throne Room, an' p'raps we'd better go into the back
yard, Ozma, where the cabbages grow an' the chickens are playing.  Then
it would seem more natural to Uncle Henry and Aunt Em."

"No; they shall first see me in my Throne Room," replied Ozma,
decidedly; and when she spoke in that tone Dorothy knew it was not wise
to oppose her, for Ozma was accustomed to having her own way.

So together they went to the Throne Room, an immense domed chamber in
the center of the palace.  Here stood the royal throne, made of solid
gold and encrusted with enough precious stones to stock a dozen jewelry
stores in our country.

Ozma, who was wearing the Magic Belt, seated herself in the throne, and
Dorothy sat at her feet.  In the room were assembled many ladies and
gentlemen of the court, clothed in rich apparel and wearing fine
jewelry.  Two immense animals squatted, one on each side of the
throne--the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger.  In a balcony high up
in the dome an orchestra played sweet music, and beneath the dome two
electric fountains sent sprays of colored perfumed water shooting up
nearly as high as the arched ceiling.

"Are you ready, Dorothy?" asked the Ruler.

"I am," replied Dorothy; "but I don't know whether Aunt Em and Uncle
Henry are ready."

"That won't matter," declared Ozma.  "The old life can have very little
to interest them, and the sooner they begin the new life here the
happier they will be.  Here they come, my dear!"

As she spoke, there before the throne appeared Uncle Henry and Aunt Em,
who for a moment stood motionless, glaring with white and startled
faces at the scene that confronted them.  If the ladies and gentlemen
present had not been so polite I am sure they would have laughed at the
two strangers.

Aunt Em had her calico dress skirt "tucked up," and she wore a faded,
blue-checked apron.  Her hair was rather straggly and she had on a pair
of Uncle Henry's old slippers.  In one hand she held a dish-towel and
in the other a cracked earthenware plate, which she had been engaged in
wiping when so suddenly transported to the Land of Oz.

Uncle Henry, when the summons came, had been out in the barn "doin'
chores."  He wore a ragged and much soiled straw hat, a checked shirt
without any collar and blue overalls tucked into the tops of his old
cowhide boots.

"By gum!" gasped Uncle Henry, looking around as if bewildered.

"Well, I swan!" gurgled Aunt Em in a hoarse, frightened voice.  Then
her eyes fell upon Dorothy, and she said: "D-d-d-don't that look like
our little girl--our Dorothy, Henry?"

"Hi, there--look out, Em!" exclaimed the old man, as Aunt Em advanced a
step; "take care o' the wild beastses, or you're a goner!"

But now Dorothy sprang forward and embraced and kissed her aunt and
uncle affectionately, afterward taking their hands in her own.

"Don't be afraid," she said to them.  "You are now in the Land of Oz,
where you are to live always, and be comfer'ble an' happy.  You'll
never have to worry over anything again, 'cause there won't be anything
to worry about.  And you owe it all to the kindness of my friend
Princess Ozma."

Here she led them before the throne and continued:

"Your Highness, this is Uncle Henry.  And this is Aunt Em.  They want
to thank you for bringing them here from Kansas."

Aunt Em tried to "slick" her hair, and she hid the dish-towel and dish
under her apron while she bowed to the lovely Ozma.  Uncle Henry took
off his straw hat and held it awkwardly in his hands.

But the Ruler of Oz rose and came from her throne to greet her newly
arrived guests, and she smiled as sweetly upon them as if they had been
a king and queen.

"You are very welcome here, where I have brought you for Princess
Dorothy's sake," she said, graciously, "and I hope you will be quite
happy in your new home."  Then she turned to her courtiers, who were
silently and gravely regarding the scene, and added: "I present to my
people our Princess Dorothy's beloved Uncle Henry and Aunt Em, who will
hereafter be subjects of our kingdom.  It will please me to have you
show them every kindness and honor in your power, and to join me in
making them happy and contented."

Hearing this, all those assembled bowed low and respectfully to the old
farmer and his wife, who bobbed their own heads in return.

"And now," said Ozma to them, "Dorothy will show you the rooms prepared
for you.  I hope you will like them, and shall expect you to join me at
luncheon."

So Dorothy led her relatives away, and as soon as they were out of the
Throne Room and alone in the corridor, Aunt Em squeezed Dorothy's hand
and said:

"Child, child!  How in the world did we ever get here so quick?  And is
it all real?  And are we to stay here, as she says?  And what does it
all mean, anyhow?"

Dorothy laughed.

"Why didn't you tell us what you were goin' to do?" inquired Uncle
Henry, reproachfully.  "If I'd known about it, I'd 'a put on my Sunday
clothes."

"I'll 'splain ever'thing as soon as we get to your rooms," promised
Dorothy.  "You're in great luck, Uncle Henry and Aunt Em; an' so am I!
And oh! I'm so happy to have got you here, at last!"

As he walked by the little girl's side, Uncle Henry stroked his
whiskers thoughtfully.  "'Pears to me, Dorothy, we won't make bang-up
fairies," he remarked.

"An' my back hair looks like a fright!" wailed Aunt Em.

"Never mind," returned the little girl, reassuringly.  "You won't have
anything to do now but to look pretty, Aunt Em; an' Uncle Henry won't
have to work till his back aches, that's certain."

"Sure?" they asked, wonderingly, and in the same breath.

"Course I'm sure," said Dorothy.  "You're in the Fairyland of Oz, now;
an' what's more, you belong to it!"



6.  How Guph Visited the Whimsies

The new General of the Nome King's army knew perfectly well that to
fail in his plans meant death for him.  Yet he was not at all anxious
or worried.  He hated every one who was good and longed to make all who
were happy unhappy.  Therefore he had accepted this dangerous position
as General quite willingly, feeling sure in his evil mind that he would
be able to do a lot of mischief and finally conquer the Land of Oz.

Yet Guph determined to be careful, and to lay his plans well, so as not
to fail.  He argued that only careless people fail in what they attempt
to do.

The mountains underneath which the Nome King's extensive caverns were
located lay grouped just north of the Land of Ev, which lay directly
across the deadly desert to the east of the Land of Oz.  As the
mountains were also on the edge of the desert the Nome King found that
he had only to tunnel underneath the desert to reach Ozma's dominions.
He did not wish his armies to appear above ground in the Country of the
Winkies, which was the part of the Land of Oz nearest to King Roquat's
own country, as then the people would give the alarm and enable Ozma to
fortify the Emerald City and assemble an army.  He wanted to take all
the Oz people by surprise; so he decided to run the tunnel clear
through to the Emerald City, where he and his hosts could break through
the ground without warning and conquer the people before they had time
to defend themselves.

Roquat the Red began work at once upon his tunnel, setting a thousand
miners at the task and building it high and broad enough for his armies
to march through it with ease.  The Nomes were used to making tunnels,
as all the kingdom in which they lived was under ground; so they made
rapid progress.

While this work was going on General Guph started out alone to visit
the Chief of the Whimsies.

These Whimsies were curious people who lived in a retired country of
their own.  They had large, strong bodies, but heads so small that they
were no bigger than door-knobs.  Of course, such tiny heads could not
contain any great amount of brains, and the Whimsies were so ashamed of
their personal appearance and lack of commonsense that they wore big
heads made of pasteboard, which they fastened over their own little
heads.  On these pasteboard heads they sewed sheep's wool for hair, and
the wool was colored many tints--pink, green and lavender being the
favorite colors.  The faces of these false heads were painted in many
ridiculous ways, according to the whims of the owners, and these big,
burly creatures looked so whimsical and absurd in their queer masks
that they were called "Whimsies."  They foolishly imagined that no one
would suspect the little heads that were inside the imitation ones, not
knowing that it is folly to try to appear otherwise than as nature has
made us.

The Chief of the Whimsies had as little wisdom as the others, and had
been chosen chief merely because none among them was any wiser or more
capable of ruling.  The Whimsies were evil spirits and could not be
killed.  They were hated and feared by every one and were known as
terrible fighters because they were so strong and muscular and had not
sense enough to know when they were defeated.

General Guph thought the Whimsies would be a great help to the Nomes in
the conquest of Oz, for under his leadership they could be induced to
fight as long so they could stand up.  So he traveled to their country
and asked to see the Chief, who lived in a house that had a picture of
his grotesque false head painted over the doorway.

The Chief's false head had blue hair, a turned-up nose, and a mouth
that stretched half across the face.  Big green eyes had been painted
upon it, but in the center of the chin were two small holes made in the
pasteboard, so that the Chief could see through them with his own tiny
eyes; for when the big head was fastened upon his shoulders the eyes in
his own natural head were on a level with the false chin.

Said General Guph to the Chief of the Whimsies:

"We Nomes are going to conquer the Land of Oz and capture our King's
Magic Belt, which the Oz people stole from him.  Then we are going to
plunder and destroy the whole country.  And we want the Whimsies to
help us."

"Will there be any fighting?" asked the Chief.

"Plenty," replied Guph.

That must have pleased the Chief, for he got up and danced around the
room three times.  Then he seated himself again, adjusted his false
head, and said:

"We have no quarrel with Ozma of Oz."

"But you Whimsies love to fight, and here is a splendid chance to do
so," urged Guph.

"Wait till I sing a song," said the Chief.  Then he lay back in his
chair and sang a foolish song that did not seem to the General to mean
anything, although he listened carefully.  When he had finished, the
Chief Whimsie looked at him through the holes in his chin and asked:

"What reward will you give us if we help you?"

The General was prepared for this question, for he had been thinking
the matter over on his journey.  People often do a good deed without
hope of reward, but for an evil deed they always demand payment.

"When we get our Magic Belt," he made reply, "our King, Roquat the Red,
will use its power to give every Whimsie a natural head as big and fine
as the false head he now wears.  Then you will no longer be ashamed
because your big strong bodies have such teenty-weenty heads."

"Oh!  Will you do that?" asked the Chief, eagerly.

"We surely will," promised the General.

"I'll talk to my people," said the Chief.

So he called a meeting of all the Whimsies and told them of the offer
made by the Nomes.  The creatures were delighted with the bargain, and
at once agreed to fight for the Nome King and help him to conquer Oz.

One Whimsie alone seemed to have a glimmer of sense, for he asked:

"Suppose we fail to capture the Magic Belt?  What will happen then, and
what good will all our fighting do?"

But they threw him into the river for asking foolish questions, and
laughed when the water ruined his pasteboard head before he could swim
out again.

So the compact was made and General Guph was delighted with his success
in gaining such powerful allies.

But there were other people, too, just as important as the Whimsies,
whom the clever old Nome had determined to win to his side.



7.  How Aunt Em Conquered the Lion

"These are your rooms," said Dorothy, opening a door.

Aunt Em drew back at the sight of the splendid furniture and draperies.

"Ain't there any place to wipe my feet?" she asked.

"You will soon change your slippers for new shoes," replied Dorothy.
"Don't be afraid, Aunt Em.  Here is where you are to live, so walk
right in and make yourself at home."

Aunt Em advanced hesitatingly.

"It beats the Topeka Hotel!" she cried admiringly.  "But this place is
too grand for us, child.  Can't we have some back room in the attic,
that's more in our class?"

"No," said Dorothy.  "You've got to live here, 'cause Ozma says so.
And all the rooms in this palace are just as fine as these, and some
are better.  It won't do any good to fuss, Aunt Em.  You've got to be
swell and high-toned in the Land of Oz, whether you want to or not; so
you may as well make up your mind to it."

"It's hard luck," replied her aunt, looking around with an awed
expression; "but folks can get used to anything, if they try.  Eh,
Henry?"

"Why, as to that," said Uncle Henry, slowly, "I b'lieve in takin'
what's pervided us, an' askin' no questions.  I've traveled some, Em,
in my time, and you hain't; an' that makes a difference atween us."

Then Dorothy showed them through the rooms.  The first was a handsome
sitting-room, with windows opening upon the rose gardens.  Then came
separate bedrooms for Aunt Em and Uncle Henry, with a fine bathroom
between them.  Aunt Em had a pretty dressing room, besides, and Dorothy
opened the closets and showed several exquisite costumes that had been
provided for her aunt by the royal dressmakers, who had worked all
night to get them ready.  Everything that Aunt Em could possibly need
was in the drawers and closets, and her dressing-table was covered with
engraved gold toilet articles.

Uncle Henry had nine suits of clothes, cut in the popular Munchkin
fashion, with knee-breeches, silk stockings, and low shoes with jeweled
buckles.  The hats to match these costumes had pointed tops and wide
brims with small gold bells around the edges.  His shirts were of fine
linen with frilled bosoms, and his vests were richly embroidered with
colored silks.

Uncle Henry decided that he would first take a bath and then dress
himself in a blue satin suit that had caught his fancy.  He accepted
his good fortune with calm composure and refused to have a servant to
assist him.  But Aunt Em was "all of a flutter," as she said, and it
took Dorothy and Jellia Jamb, the housekeeper, and two maids a long
time to dress her and do up her hair and get her "rigged like a
popinjay," as she quaintly expressed it.  She wanted to stop and admire
everything that caught her eye, and she sighed continually and declared
that such finery was too good for an old country woman, and that she
never thought she would have to "put on airs" at her time of life.

Finally she was dressed, and when she went into the sitting-room there
was Uncle Henry in his blue satin, walking gravely up and down the
room.  He had trimmed his beard and mustache and looked very dignified
and respectable.

"Tell me, Dorothy," he said; "do all the men here wear duds like these?"

"Yes," she replied; "all 'cept the Scarecrow and the Shaggy Man--and of
course the Tin Woodman and Tiktok, who are made of metal.  You'll find
all the men at Ozma's court dressed just as you are--only perhaps a
little finer."

"Henry, you look like a play-actor," announced Aunt Em, looking at her
husband critically.

"An' you, Em, look more highfalutin' than a peacock," he replied.

"I guess you're right," she said regretfully; "but we're helpless
victims of high-toned royalty."

Dorothy was much amused.

"Come with me," she said, "and I'll show you 'round the palace."

She took them through the beautiful rooms and introduced them to all
the people they chanced to meet.  Also she showed them her own pretty
rooms, which were not far from their own.

"So it's all true," said Aunt Em, wide-eyed with amazement, "and what
Dorothy told us of this fairy country was plain facts instead of
dreams!  But where are all the strange creatures you used to know here?"

"Yes, where's the Scarecrow?" inquired Uncle Henry.

"Why, he's just now away on a visit to the Tin Woodman, who is Emp'ror
of the Winkie Country," answered the little girl.  "You'll see him when
he comes back, and you're sure to like him."

"And where's the Wonderful Wizard?" asked Aunt Em.

"You'll see him at Ozma's luncheon, for he lives here in this palace,"
was the reply.

"And Jack Pumpkinhead?"

"Oh, he lives a little way out of town, in his own pumpkin field.
We'll go there some time and see him, and we'll call on Professor
Wogglebug, too.  The Shaggy Man will be at the luncheon, I guess, and
Tiktok.  And now I'll take you out to see Billina, who has a house of
her own."

So they went into the back yard, and after walking along winding paths
some distance through the beautiful gardens they came to an attractive
little house where the Yellow Hen sat on the front porch sunning
herself.

"Good morning, my dear Mistress," called Billina, fluttering down to
meet them.  "I was expecting you to call, for I heard you had come back
and brought your uncle and aunt with you."

"We're here for good and all, this time, Billina," cried Dorothy,
joyfully.  "Uncle Henry and Aunt Em belong to Oz now as much as I do!"

"Then they are very lucky people," declared Billina; "for there
couldn't be a nicer place to live.  But come, my dear; I must show you
all my Dorothys.  Nine are living and have grown up to be very
respectable hens; but one took cold at Ozma's birthday party and died
of the pip, and the other two turned out to be horrid roosters, so I
had to change their names from Dorothy to Daniel.  They all had the
letter 'D' engraved upon their gold lockets, you remember, with your
picture inside, and 'D' stands for Daniel as well as for Dorothy."

"Did you call both the roosters Daniel?" asked Uncle Henry.

"Yes, indeed.  I've nine Dorothys and two Daniels; and the nine
Dorothys have eighty-six sons and daughters and over three hundred
grandchildren," said Billina, proudly.

"What names do you give 'em all, dear?" inquired the little girl.

"Oh, they are all Dorothys and Daniels, some being Juniors and some
Double-Juniors.  Dorothy and Daniel are two good names, and I see no
object in hunting for others," declared the Yellow Hen.  "But just
think, Dorothy, what a big chicken family we've grown to be, and our
numbers increase nearly every day!  Ozma doesn't know what to do with
all the eggs we lay, and we are never eaten or harmed in any way, as
chickens are in your country.  They give us everything to make us
contented and happy, and I, my dear, am the acknowledged Queen and
Governor of every chicken in Oz, because I'm the eldest and started the
whole colony."

"You ought to be very proud, ma'am," said Uncle Henry, who was
astonished to hear a hen talk so sensibly.

"Oh, I am," she replied.  "I've the loveliest pearl necklace you ever
saw.  Come in the house and I'll show it to you.  And I've nine leg
bracelets and a diamond pin for each wing.  But I only wear them on
state occasions."

They followed the Yellow Hen into the house, which Aunt Em declared was
neat as a pin.  They could not sit down, because all Billina's chairs
were roosting-poles made of silver; so they had to stand while the hen
fussily showed them her treasures.

Then they had to go into the back rooms occupied by Billina's nine
Dorothys and two Daniels, who were all plump yellow chickens and
greeted the visitors very politely.  It was easy to see that they were
well bred and that Billina had looked after their education.

In the yards were all the children and grandchildren of these eleven
elders and they were of all sizes, from well-grown hens to tiny
chickens just out of the shell.  About fifty fluffy yellow youngsters
were at school, being taught good manners and good grammar by a young
hen who wore spectacles.  They sang in chorus a patriotic song of the
Land of Oz, in honor of their visitors, and Aunt Em was much impressed
by these talking chickens.

Dorothy wanted to stay and play with the young chickens for awhile, but
Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had not seen the palace grounds and gardens yet
and were eager to get better acquainted with the marvelous and
delightful land in which they were to live.

"I'll stay here, and you can go for a walk," said Dorothy.  "You'll be
perfec'ly safe anywhere, and may do whatever you want to.  When you get
tired, go back to the palace and find your rooms, and I'll come to you
before luncheon is ready."

So Uncle Henry and Aunt Em started out alone to explore the grounds,
and Dorothy knew that they couldn't get lost, because all the palace
grounds were enclosed by a high wall of green marble set with emeralds.

It was a rare treat to these simple folk, who had lived in the country
all their lives and known little enjoyment of any sort, to wear
beautiful clothes and live in a palace and be treated with respect and
consideration by all around them.  They were very happy indeed as they
strolled up the shady walks and looked upon the gorgeous flowers and
shrubs, feeling that their new home was more beautiful than any tongue
could describe.

Suddenly, as they turned a corner and walked through a gap in a high
hedge, they came face to face with an enormous Lion, which crouched
upon the green lawn and seemed surprised by their appearance.

They stopped short, Uncle Henry trembling with horror and Aunt Em too
terrified to scream.  Next moment the poor woman clasped her husband
around the neck and cried:

"Save me, Henry, save me!"

"Can't even save myself, Em," he returned, in a husky voice, "for the
animile looks as if it could eat both of us an' lick its chops for
more!  If I only had a gun--"

"Haven't you, Henry?  Haven't you?" she asked anxiously.

"Nary gun, Em.  So let's die as brave an' graceful as we can.  I knew
our luck couldn't last!"

"I won't die.  I won't be eaten by a lion!" wailed Aunt Em, glaring
upon the huge beast.  Then a thought struck her, and she whispered,
"Henry, I've heard as savage beastses can be conquered by the human
eye.  I'll eye that lion out o' countenance an' save our lives."

"Try it, Em," he returned, also in a whisper.  "Look at him as you do
at me when I'm late to dinner."

Aunt Em turned upon the Lion a determined countenance and a wild
dilated eye.  She glared at the immense beast steadily, and the Lion,
who had been quietly blinking at them, began to appear uneasy and
disturbed.

"Is anything the matter, ma'am?" he asked, in a mild voice.

At this speech from the terrible beast Aunt Em and Uncle Henry both
were startled, and then Uncle Henry remembered that this must be the
Lion they had seen in Ozma's Throne Room.

"Hold on, Em!" he exclaimed.  "Quit the eagle eye conquest an' take
courage.  I guess this is the same Cowardly Lion Dorothy has told us
about."

"Oh, is it?" she cried, much relieved.

"When he spoke, I got the idea; and when he looked so 'shamed like, I
was sure of it," Uncle Henry continued.

Aunt Em regarded the animal with new interest.

"Are you the Cowardly Lion?" she inquired.  "Are you Dorothy's friend?"

"Yes'm," answered the Lion, meekly.  "Dorothy and I are old chums and
are very fond of each other.  I'm the King of Beasts, you know, and the
Hungry Tiger and I serve Princess Ozma as her body guards."

"To be sure," said Aunt Em, nodding.  "But the King of Beasts shouldn't
be cowardly."

"I've heard that said before," remarked the Lion, yawning till he
showed two great rows of sharp white teeth; "but that does not keep me
from being frightened whenever I go into battle."

"What do you do, run?" asked Uncle Henry.

"No; that would be foolish, for the enemy would run after me," declared
the Lion.  "So I tremble with fear and pitch in as hard as I can; and
so far I have always won my fight."

"Ah, I begin to understand," said Uncle Henry.

"Were you scared when I looked at you just now?" inquired Aunt Em.

"Terribly scared, madam," answered the Lion, "for at first I thought
you were going to have a fit.  Then I noticed you were trying to
overcome me by the power of your eye, and your glance was so fierce and
penetrating that I shook with fear."

This greatly pleased the lady, and she said quite cheerfully:

"Well, I won't hurt you, so don't be scared any more.  I just wanted to
see what the human eye was good for."

"The human eye is a fearful weapon," remarked the Lion, scratching his
nose softly with his paw to hide a smile.  "Had I not known you were
Dorothy's friends I might have torn you both into shreds in order to
escape your terrible gaze."

Aunt Em shuddered at hearing this, and Uncle Henry said hastily:

"I'm glad you knew us.  Good morning, Mr. Lion; we'll hope to see you
again--by and by--some time in the future."

"Good morning," replied the Lion, squatting down upon the lawn again.
"You are likely to see a good deal of me, if you live in the Land of
Oz."



8.  How the Grand Gallipoot Joined The Nomes

After leaving the Whimsies, Guph continued on his journey and
penetrated far into the Northwest.  He wanted to get to the Country of
the Growleywogs, and in order to do that he must cross the Ripple Land,
which was a hard thing to do.  For the Ripple Land was a succession of
hills and valleys, all very steep and rocky, and they changed places
constantly by rippling.  While Guph was climbing a hill it sank down
under him and became a valley, and while he was descending into a
valley it rose up and carried him to the top of a hill.  This was very
perplexing to the traveler, and a stranger might have thought he could
never cross the Ripple Land at all.  But Guph knew that if he kept
steadily on he would get to the end at last; so he paid no attention to
the changing hills and valleys and plodded along as calmly as if
walking upon the level ground.

The result of this wise persistence was that the General finally
reached firmer soil and, after penetrating a dense forest, came to the
Dominion of the Growleywogs.

No sooner had he crossed the border of this domain when two guards
seized him and carried him before the Grand Gallipoot of the
Growleywogs, who scowled upon him ferociously and asked him why he
dared intrude upon his territory.

"I'm the Lord High General of the Invincible Army of the Nomes, and my
name is Guph," was the reply.  "All the world trembles when that name
is mentioned."

The Growleywogs gave a shout of jeering laughter at this, and one of
them caught the Nome in his strong arms and tossed him high into the
air.  Guph was considerably shaken when he fell upon the hard ground,
but he appeared to take no notice of the impertinence and composed
himself to speak again to the Grand Gallipoot.

"My master, King Roquat the Red, has sent me here to confer with you.
He wishes your assistance to conquer the Land of Oz."

Here the General paused, and the Grand Gallipoot scowled upon him more
terribly than ever and said:

"Go on!"

The voice of the Grand Gallipoot was partly a roar and partly a growl.
He mumbled his words badly and Guph had to listen carefully in order to
understand him.

These Growleywogs were certainly remarkable creatures.  They were of
gigantic size, yet were all bone and skin and muscle, there being no
meat or fat upon their bodies at all.  Their powerful muscles lay just
underneath their skins, like bunches of tough rope, and the weakest
Growleywog was so strong that he could pick up an elephant and toss it
seven miles away.

It seems unfortunate that strong people are usually so disagreeable and
overbearing that no one cares for them.  In fact, to be different from
your fellow creatures is always a misfortune.  The Growleywogs knew
that they were disliked and avoided by every one, so they had become
surly and unsociable even among themselves.  Guph knew that they hated
all people, including the Nomes; but he hoped to win them over,
nevertheless, and knew that if he succeeded they would afford him very
powerful assistance.

"The Land of Oz is ruled by a namby-pamby girl who is disgustingly kind
and good," he continued.  "Her people are all happy and contented and
have no care or worries whatever."

"Go on!" growled the Grand Gallipoot.

"Once the Nome King enslaved the Royal Family of Ev--another
goody-goody lot that we detest," said the General.  "But Ozma
interfered, although it was none of her business, and marched her army
against us.  With her was a Kansas girl named Dorothy, and a Yellow
Hen, and they marched directly into the Nome King's cavern.  There they
liberated our slaves from Ev and stole King Roquat's Magic Belt, which
they carried away with them.  So now our King is making a tunnel under
the deadly desert, so we can march through it to the Emerald City.
When we get there we mean to conquer and destroy all the land and
recapture the Magic Belt."

Again he paused, and again the Grand Gallipoot growled:

"Go on!"

Guph tried to think what to say next, and a happy thought soon occurred
to him.

"We want you to help us in this conquest," he announced, "for we need
the mighty aid of the Growleywogs in order to make sure that we shall
not be defeated.  You are the strongest people in all the world, and
you hate good and happy creatures as much as we Nomes do.  I am sure it
will be a real pleasure to you to tear down the beautiful Emerald City,
and in return for your valuable assistance we will allow you to bring
back to your country ten thousand people of Oz, to be your slaves."

"Twenty thousand!" growled the Grand Gallipoot.

"All right, we promise you twenty thousand," agreed the General.

The Gallipoot made a signal and at once his attendants picked up
General Guph and carried him away to a prison, where the jailer amused
himself by sticking pins in the round fat body of the old Nome, to see
him jump and hear him yell.

But while this was going on the Grand Gallipoot was talking with his
counselors, who were the most important officials of the Growleywogs.
When he had stated to them the proposition of the Nome King, he said:

"My advice is to offer to help them.  Then, when we have conquered the
Land of Oz, we will take not only our twenty thousand prisoners but all
the gold and jewels we want."

"Let us take the Magic Belt, too," suggested one counselor.

"And rob the Nome King and make him our slave," said another.

"That is a good idea," declared the Grand Gallipoot.  "I'd like King
Roquat for my own slave.  He could black my boots and bring me my
porridge every morning while I am in bed."

"There is a famous Scarecrow in Oz.  I'll take him for my slave," said
a counselor.

"I'll take Tiktok, the machine man," said another.

"Give me the Tin Woodman," said a third.

They went on for some time, dividing up the people and the treasure of
Oz in advance of the conquest.  For they had no doubt at all that they
would be able to destroy Ozma's domain.  Were they not the strongest
people in all the world?

"The deadly desert has kept us out of Oz before," remarked the Grand
Gallipoot, "but now that the Nome King is building a tunnel we shall
get into the Emerald City very easily.  So let us send the little fat
General back to his King with our promise to assist him.  We will not
say that we intend to conquer the Nomes after we have conquered Oz, but
we will do so, just the same."

This plan being agreed upon, they all went home to dinner, leaving
General Guph still in prison.  The Nome had no idea that he had
succeeded in his mission, for finding himself in prison he feared the
Growleywogs intended to put him to death.

By this time the jailer had tired of sticking pins in the General, and
was amusing himself by carefully pulling the Nome's whiskers out by the
roots, one at a time.  This enjoyment was interrupted by the Grand
Gallipoot sending for the prisoner.

"Wait a few hours," begged the jailer.  "I haven't pulled out a quarter
of his whiskers yet."

"If you keep the Grand Gallipoot waiting, he'll break your back,"
declared the messenger.

"Perhaps you're right," sighed the jailer.  "Take the prisoner away, if
you will, but I advise you to kick him at every step he takes.  It will
be good fun, for he is as soft as a ripe peach."

So Guph was led away to the royal castle, where the Grand Gallipoot
told him that the Growleywogs had decided to assist the Nomes in
conquering the Land of Oz.

"Whenever you are ready," he added, "send me word and I will march with
eighteen thousand of my most powerful warriors to your aid."

Guph was so delighted that he forgot all the smarting caused by the
pins and the pulling of whiskers.  He did not even complain of the
treatment he had received, but thanked the Grand Gallipoot and hurried
away upon his journey.

He had now secured the assistance of the Whimsies and the Growleywogs;
but his success made him long for still more allies.  His own life
depended upon his conquering Oz, and he said to himself:

"I'll take no chances.  I'll be certain of success.  Then, when Oz is
destroyed, perhaps I shall be a greater man than old Roquat, and I can
throw him away and be King of the Nomes myself.  Why not?  The Whimsies
are stronger than the Nomes, and they also are my friends.  There are
some people still stronger than the Growleywogs, and if I can but
induce them to aid me I shall have nothing more to fear."



9.  How the Wogglebug Taught Athletics

It did not take Dorothy long to establish herself in her new home, for
she knew the people and the manners and customs of the Emerald City
just as well as she knew the old Kansas farm.

But Uncle Henry and Aunt Em had some trouble in getting used to the
finery and pomp and ceremony of Ozma's palace, and felt uneasy because
they were obliged to be "dressed up" all the time.  Yet every one was
very courteous and kind to them and endeavored to make them happy.
Ozma, especially, made much of Dorothy's relatives, for her little
friend's sake, and she well knew that the awkwardness and strangeness
of their new mode of life would all wear off in time.

The old people were chiefly troubled by the fact that there was no work
for them to do.

"Ev'ry day is like Sunday, now," declared Aunt Em, solemnly, "and I
can't say I like it.  If they'd only let me do up the dishes after
meals, or even sweep an' dust my own rooms, I'd be a deal happier.
Henry don't know what to do with himself either, and once when he stole
out an' fed the chickens Billina scolded him for letting 'em eat
between meals.  I never knew before what a hardship it is to be rich
and have everything you want."

These complaints began to worry Dorothy; so she had a long talk with
Ozma upon the subject.

"I see I must find them something to do," said the girlish Ruler of Oz,
seriously.  "I have been watching your uncle and aunt, and I believe
they will be more contented if occupied with some light tasks.  While I
am considering this matter, Dorothy, you might make a trip with them
through the Land of Oz, visiting some of the odd corners and
introducing your relatives to some of our curious people."

"Oh, that would be fine!" exclaimed Dorothy, eagerly.

"I will give you an escort befitting your rank as a Princess,"
continued Ozma; "and you may go to some of the places you have not yet
visited yourself, as well as some others that you know.  I will mark
out a plan of the trip for you and have everything in readiness for you
to start to-morrow morning.  Take your time, dear, and be gone as long
as you wish.  By the time you return I shall have found some occupation
for Uncle Henry and Aunt Em that will keep them from being restless and
dissatisfied."

Dorothy thanked her good friend and kissed the lovely Ruler gratefully.
Then she ran to tell the joyful news to her uncle and aunt.

Next morning, after breakfast, everything was found ready for their
departure.

The escort included Omby Amby, the Captain General of Ozma's army,
which consisted merely of twenty-seven officers besides the Captain
General.  Once Omby Amby had been a private soldier--the only private
in the army--but as there was never any fighting to do Ozma saw no need
of a private, so she made Omby Amby the highest officer of them all.
He was very tall and slim and wore a gay uniform and a fierce mustache.
Yet the mustache was the only fierce thing about Omby Amby, whose
nature was as gentle as that of a child.

The wonderful Wizard had asked to join the party, and with him came his
friend the Shaggy Man, who was shaggy but not ragged, being dressed in
fine silks with satin shags and bobtails.  The Shaggy Man had shaggy
whiskers and hair, but a sweet disposition and a soft, pleasant voice.

There was an open wagon, with three seats for the passengers, and the
wagon was drawn by the famous wooden Sawhorse which had once been
brought to life by Ozma by means of a magic powder.  The Sawhorse wore
wooden shoes to keep his wooden legs from wearing away, and he was
strong and swift.  As this curious creature was Ozma's own favorite
steed, and very popular with all the people of the Emerald City,
Dorothy knew that she had been highly favored by being permitted to use
the Sawhorse on her journey.

In the front seat of the wagon sat Dorothy and the Wizard.  Uncle Henry
and Aunt Em sat in the next seat and the Shaggy Man and Omby Amby in
the third seat.  Of course Toto was with the party, curled up at
Dorothy's feet, and just as they were about to start, Billina came
fluttering along the path and begged to be taken with them.  Dorothy
readily agreed, so the Yellow Hen flew up and perched herself upon the
dashboard.  She wore her pearl necklace and three bracelets upon each
leg, in honor of the occasion.

Dorothy kissed Ozma good-bye, and all the people standing around waved
their handkerchiefs, and the band in an upper balcony struck up a
military march.  Then the Wizard clucked to the Sawhorse and said:
"Gid-dap!" and the wooden animal pranced away and drew behind him the
big red wagon and all the passengers, without any effort at all.  A
servant threw open a gate of the palace enclosure, that they might pass
out; and so, with music and shouts following them, the journey was
begun.

"It's almost like a circus," said Aunt Em, proudly.  "I can't help
feelin' high an' mighty in this kind of a turn-out."

Indeed, as they passed down the street, all the people cheered them
lustily, and the Shaggy Man and the Wizard and the Captain General all
took off their hats and bowed politely in acknowledgment.

When they came to the great wall of the Emerald City, the gates were
opened by the Guardian who always tended them.  Over the gateway hung a
dull-colored metal magnet shaped like a horse-shoe, placed against a
shield of polished gold.

"That," said the Shaggy Man, impressively, "is the wonderful Love
Magnet.  I brought it to the Emerald City myself, and all who pass
beneath this gateway are both loving and beloved."

"It's a fine thing," declared Aunt Em, admiringly.  "If we'd had it in
Kansas I guess the man who held a mortgage on the farm wouldn't have
turned us out."

"Then I'm glad we didn't have it," returned Uncle Henry.  "I like Oz
better than Kansas, even; an' this little wood Sawhorse beats all the
critters I ever saw.  He don't have to be curried, or fed, or watered,
an' he's strong as an ox.  Can he talk, Dorothy?"

"Yes, Uncle," replied the child.  "But the Sawhorse never says much.
He told me once that he can't talk and think at the same time, so he
prefers to think."

"Which is very sensible," declared the Wizard, nodding approvingly.
"Which way do we go, Dorothy?"

"Straight ahead into the Quadling Country," she answered.  "I've got a
letter of interduction to Miss Cuttenclip."

"Oh!" exclaimed the Wizard, much interested.  "Are we going there?
Then I'm glad I came, for I've always wanted to meet the Cuttenclips."

"Who are they?" inquired Aunt Em.

"Wait till we get there," replied Dorothy, with a laugh; "then you'll
see for yourself.  I've never seen the Cuttenclips, you know, so I
can't 'zactly 'splain 'em to you."

Once free of the Emerald City the Sawhorse dashed away at tremendous
speed.  Indeed, he went so fast that Aunt Em had hard work to catch her
breath, and Uncle Henry held fast to the seat of the red wagon.

"Gently--gently, my boy!" called the Wizard, and at this the Sawhorse
slackened his speed.

"What's wrong?" asked the animal, slightly turning his wooden head to
look at the party with one eye, which was a knot of wood.

"Why, we wish to admire the scenery, that's all," answered the Wizard.

"Some of your passengers," added the Shaggy Man, "have never been out
of the Emerald City before, and the country is all new to them."

"If you go too fast you'll spoil all the fun," said Dorothy.  "There's
no hurry."

"Very well; it is all the same to me," observed the Sawhorse; and after
that he went at a more moderate pace.

Uncle Henry was astonished.

"How can a wooden thing be so intelligent?" he asked.

"Why, I gave him some sawdust brains the last time I fitted his head
with new ears," explained the Wizard.  "The sawdust was made from hard
knots, and now the Sawhorse is able to think out any knotty problem he
meets with."

"I see," said Uncle Henry.

"I don't," remarked Aunt Em; but no one paid any attention to this
statement.

Before long they came to a stately building that stood upon a green
plain with handsome shade trees grouped here and there.

"What is that?" asked Uncle Henry.

"That," replied the Wizard, "is the Royal Athletic College of Oz, which
is directed by Professor H. M. Wogglebug, T.E."

"Let's stop and make a call," suggested Dorothy.

So the Sawhorse drew up in front of the great building and they were
met at the door by the learned Wogglebug himself.  He seemed fully as
tall as the Wizard, and was dressed in a red and white checked vest and
a blue swallow-tailed coat, and had yellow knee breeches and purple
silk stockings upon his slender legs.  A tall hat was jauntily set upon
his head and he wore spectacles over his big bright eyes.

"Welcome, Dorothy," said the Wogglebug; "and welcome to all your
friends.  We are indeed pleased to receive you at this great Temple of
Learning."

"I thought it was an Athletic College," said the Shaggy Man.

"It is, my dear sir," answered the Wogglebug, proudly.  "Here it is
that we teach the youth of our great land scientific College
Athletics--in all their purity."

"Don't you teach them anything else?" asked Dorothy.  "Don't they get
any reading, writing and 'rithmetic?"

"Oh, yes; of course.  They get all those, and more," returned the
Professor.  "But such things occupy little of their time.  Please
follow me and I will show you how my scholars are usually occupied.
This is a class hour and they are all busy."

They followed him to a big field back of the college building, where
several hundred young Ozites were at their classes.  In one place they
played football, in another baseball.  Some played tennis, some golf;
some were swimming in a big pool.  Upon a river which wound through the
grounds several crews in racing boats were rowing with great
enthusiasm.  Other groups of students played basketball and cricket,
while in one place a ring was roped in to permit boxing and wrestling
by the energetic youths.  All the collegians seemed busy and there was
much laughter and shouting.

"This college," said Professor Wogglebug, complacently, "is a great
success.  Its educational value is undisputed, and we are turning out
many great and valuable citizens every year."

"But when do they study?" asked Dorothy.

"Study?" said the Wogglebug, looking perplexed at the question.

"Yes; when do they get their 'rithmetic, and jogerfy, and such things?"

"Oh, they take doses of those every night and morning," was the reply.

"What do you mean by doses?" Dorothy inquired, wonderingly.

"Why, we use the newly invented School Pills, made by your friend the
Wizard.  These pills we have found to be very effective, and they save
a lot of time.  Please step this way and I will show you our Laboratory
of Learning."

He led them to a room in the building where many large bottles were
standing in rows upon shelves.

"These are the Algebra Pills," said the Professor, taking down one of
the bottles.  "One at night, on retiring, is equal to four hours of
study.  Here are the Geography Pills--one at night and one in the
morning.  In this next bottle are the Latin Pills--one three times a
day.  Then we have the Grammar Pills--one before each meal--and the
Spelling Pills, which are taken whenever needed."

"Your scholars must have to take a lot of pills," remarked Dorothy,
thoughtfully.  "How do they take 'em, in applesauce?"

"No, my dear.  They are sugar-coated and are quickly and easily
swallowed.  I believe the students would rather take the pills than
study, and certainly the pills are a more effective method.  You see,
until these School Pills were invented we wasted a lot of time in study
that may now be better employed in practicing athletics."

"Seems to me the pills are a good thing," said Omby Amby, who
remembered how it used to make his head ache as a boy to study
arithmetic.

"They are, sir," declared the Wogglebug, earnestly.  "They give us an
advantage over all other colleges, because at no loss of time our boys
become thoroughly conversant with Greek and Latin, Mathematics and
Geography, Grammar and Literature.  You see they are never obliged to
interrupt their games to acquire the lesser branches of learning."

"It's a great invention, I'm sure," said Dorothy, looking admiringly at
the Wizard, who blushed modestly at this praise.

"We live in an age of progress," announced Professor Wogglebug,
pompously.  "It is easier to swallow knowledge than to acquire it
laboriously from books.  Is it not so, my friends?"

"Some folks can swallow anything," said Aunt Em, "but to me this seems
too much like taking medicine."

"Young men in college always have to take their medicine, one way or
another," observed the Wizard, with a smile; "and, as our Professor
says, these School Pills have proved to be a great success.  One day
while I was making them I happened to drop one of them, and one of
Billina's chickens gobbled it up.  A few minutes afterward this chick
got upon a roost and recited 'The Boy Stood on the Burning Deck'
without making a single mistake.  Then it recited 'The Charge of the
Light Brigade' and afterwards 'Excelsior.'  You see, the chicken had
eaten an Elocution Pill."

They now bade good-bye to the Professor, and thanking him for his kind
reception mounted again into the red wagon and continued their journey.



10.  How the Cuttenclips Lived

The travelers had taken no provisions with them because they knew that
they would be welcomed wherever they might go in the Land of Oz, and
that the people would feed and lodge them with genuine hospitality.  So
about noon they stopped at a farm-house and were given a delicious
luncheon of bread and milk, fruits and wheat cakes with maple syrup.
After resting a while and strolling through the orchards with their
host--a round, jolly farmer--they got into the wagon and again started
the Sawhorse along the pretty, winding road.

There were signposts at all the corners, and finally they came to one
which read:


TAKE THIS ROAD TO THE CUTTENCLIPS


There was also a hand pointing in the right direction, so they turned
the Sawhorse that way and found it a very good road, but seemingly
little traveled.

"I've never seen the Cuttenclips before," remarked Dorothy.

"Nor I," said the Captain General.

"Nor I," said the Wizard.

"Nor I," said Billina.

"I've hardly been out of the Emerald City since I arrived in this
country," added the Shaggy Man.

"Why, none of us has been there, then," exclaimed the little girl.  "I
wonder what the Cuttenclips are like."

"We shall soon find out," said the Wizard, with a sly laugh.  "I've
heard they are rather flimsy things."

The farm-houses became fewer as they proceeded, and the path was at
times so faint that the Sawhorse had hard work to keep in the road.
The wagon began to jounce, too; so they were obliged to go slowly.

After a somewhat wearisome journey they came in sight of a high wall,
painted blue with pink ornaments.  This wall was circular, and seemed
to enclose a large space.  It was so high that only the tops of the
trees could be seen above it.

The path led up to a small door in the wall, which was closed and
latched.  Upon the door was a sign in gold letters reading as follows:


VISITORS are requested to MOVE SLOWLY and CAREFULLY, and to avoid
COUGHING or making any BREEZE or DRAUGHT.


"That's strange," said the Shaggy Man, reading the sign aloud.  "Who
ARE the Cuttenclips, anyhow?"

"Why, they're paper dolls," answered Dorothy.  "Didn't you know that?"

"Paper dolls!  Then let's go somewhere else," said Uncle Henry.  "We're
all too old to play with dolls, Dorothy."

"But these are different," declared the girl.  "They're alive."

"Alive!" gasped Aunt Em, in amazement.

"Yes.  Let's go in," said Dorothy.

So they all got out of the wagon, since the door in the wall was not
big enough for them to drive the Sawhorse and wagon through it.

"You stay here, Toto!" commanded Dorothy, shaking her finger at the
little dog.  "You're so careless that you might make a breeze if I let
you inside."

Toto wagged his tail as if disappointed at being left behind; but he
made no effort to follow them.  The Wizard unlatched the door, which
opened outward, and they all looked eagerly inside.

Just before the entrance was drawn up a line of tiny soldiers, with
uniforms brightly painted and paper guns upon their shoulders.  They
were exactly alike, from one end of the line to the other, and all were
cut out of paper and joined together in the centers of their bodies.

As the visitors entered the enclosure the Wizard let the door swing
back into place, and at once the line of soldiers tumbled over, fell
flat upon their backs, and lay fluttering upon the ground.

"Hi there!" called one of them; "what do you mean by slamming the door
and blowing us over?"

"I beg your pardon, I'm sure," said the Wizard, regretfully.  "I didn't
know you were so delicate."

"We're not delicate!" retorted another soldier, raising his head from
the ground.  "We are strong and healthy; but we can't stand draughts."

"May I help you up?" asked Dorothy.

"If you please," replied the end soldier.  "But do it gently, little
girl."

Dorothy carefully stood up the line of soldiers, who first dusted their
painted clothes and then saluted the visitors with their paper muskets.
From the end it was easy to see that the entire line had been cut out
of paper, although from the front the soldiers looked rather solid and
imposing.

"I've a letter of introduction from Princess Ozma to Miss Cuttenclip,"
announced Dorothy.

"Very well," said the end soldier, and blew upon a paper whistle that
hung around his neck.  At once a paper soldier in a Captain's uniform
came out of a paper house near by and approached the group at the
entrance.  He was not very big, and he walked rather stiffly and
uncertainly on his paper legs; but he had a pleasant face, with very
red cheeks and very blue eyes, and he bowed so low to the strangers
that Dorothy laughed, and the breeze from her mouth nearly blew the
Captain over.  He wavered and struggled and finally managed to remain
upon his feet.

"Take care, Miss!" he said, warningly.  "You're breaking the rules, you
know, by laughing."

"Oh, I didn't know that," she replied.

"To laugh in this place is nearly as dangerous as to cough," said the
Captain.  "You'll have to breathe very quietly, I assure you."

"We'll try to," promised the girl.  "May we see Miss Cuttenclip,
please?"

"You may," promptly returned the Captain.  "This is one of her
reception days.  Be good enough to follow me."

He turned and led the way up a path, and as they followed slowly,
because the paper Captain did not move very swiftly, they took the
opportunity to gaze around them at this strange paper country.

Beside the path were paper trees, all cut out very neatly and painted a
brilliant green color.  And back of the trees were rows of cardboard
houses, painted in various colors but most of them having green blinds.
Some were large and some small, and in the front yards were beds of
paper flowers quite natural in appearance.  Over some of the porches
paper vines were twined, giving them a cozy and shady look.

As the visitors passed along the street a good many paper dolls came to
the doors and windows of their houses to look at them curiously.  These
dolls were nearly all the same height, but were cut into various
shapes, some being fat and some lean.  The girl dolls wore many
beautiful costumes of tissue paper, making them quite fluffy; but their
heads and hands were no thicker than the paper of which they were made.

Some of the paper people were on the street, walking along or
congregated in groups and talking together; but as soon as they saw the
strangers they all fluttered into the houses as fast as they could go,
so as to be out of danger.

"Excuse me if I go edgewise," remarked the Captain as they came to a
slight hill.  "I can get along faster that way and not flutter so much."

"That's all right," said Dorothy.  "We don't mind how you go, I'm sure."

At one side of the street was a paper pump, and a paper boy was pumping
paper water into a paper pail.  The Yellow Hen happened to brush
against this boy with her wing, and he flew into the air and fell into
a paper tree, where he stuck until the Wizard gently pulled him out.
At the same time, the pail went into the air, spilling the paper water,
while the paper pump bent nearly double.

"Goodness me!" said the Hen.  "If I should flop my wings I believe I'd
knock over the whole village!"

"Then don't flop them--please don't!" entreated the Captain.  "Miss
Cuttenclip would be very much distressed if her village was spoiled."

"Oh, I'll be careful," promised Billina.

"Are not all these paper girls and women named Miss Cuttenclips?"
inquired Omby Amby.

"No indeed," answered the Captain, who was walking better since he
began to move edgewise.  "There is but one Miss Cuttenclip, who is our
Queen, because she made us all.  These girls are Cuttenclips, to be
sure, but their names are Emily and Polly and Sue and Betty and such
things.  Only the Queen is called Miss Cuttenclip."

"I must say that this place beats anything I ever heard of," observed
Aunt Em.  "I used to play with paper dolls myself, an' cut 'em out; but
I never thought I'd ever see such things alive."

"I don't see as it's any more curious than hearing hens talk," returned
Uncle Henry.

"You're likely to see many queer things in the Land of Oz, sir," said
the Wizard.  "But a fairy country is extremely interesting when you get
used to being surprised."

"Here we are!" called the Captain, stopping before a cottage.

This house was made of wood, and was remarkably pretty in design.  In
the Emerald City it would have been considered a tiny dwelling, indeed;
but in the midst of this paper village it seemed immense.  Real flowers
were in the garden and real trees grew beside it.  Upon the front door
was a sign reading:


MISS CUTTENCLIP.


Just as they reached the porch the front door opened and a little girl
stood before them.  She appeared to be about the same age as Dorothy,
and smiling upon her visitors she said, sweetly:

"You are welcome."

All the party seemed relieved to find that here was a real girl, of
flesh and blood.  She was very dainty and pretty as she stood there
welcoming them.  Her hair was a golden blonde and her eyes turquoise
blue.  She had rosy cheeks and lovely white teeth.  Over her simple
white lawn dress she wore an apron with pink and white checks, and in
one hand she held a pair of scissors.

"May we see Miss Cuttenclip, please?" asked Dorothy.

"I am Miss Cuttenclip," was the reply.  "Won't you come in?"

She held the door open while they all entered a pretty sitting-room
that was littered with all sorts of paper--some stiff, some thin, and
some tissue.  The sheets and scraps were of all colors.  Upon a table
were paints and brushes, while several pair of scissors, of different
sizes, were lying about.

"Sit down, please," said Miss Cuttenclip, clearing the paper scraps off
some of the chairs.  "It is so long since I have had any visitors that
I am not properly prepared to receive them.  But I'm sure you will
pardon my untidy room, for this is my workshop."

"Do you make all the paper dolls?" inquired Dorothy.

"Yes; I cut them out with my scissors, and paint the faces and some of
the costumes.  It is very pleasant work, and I am happy making my paper
village grow."

"But how do the paper dolls happen to be alive?" asked Aunt Em.

"The first dolls I made were not alive," said Miss Cuttenclip.  "I used
to live near the castle of a great Sorceress named Glinda the Good, and
she saw my dolls and said they were very pretty.  I told her I thought
I would like them better if they were alive, and the next day the
Sorceress brought me a lot of magic paper.  'This is live paper,' she
said, 'and all the dolls you cut out of it will be alive, and able to
think and to talk.  When you have used it all up, come to me and I will
give you more.'

"Of course I was delighted with this present," continued Miss
Cuttenclip, "and at once set to work and made several paper dolls,
which, as soon as they were cut out, began to walk around and talk to
me.  But they were so thin that I found that any breeze would blow them
over and scatter them dreadfully; so Glinda found this lonely place for
me, where few people ever come.  She built the wall to keep any wind
from blowing away my people, and told me I could build a paper village
here and be its Queen.  That is why I came here and settled down to
work and started the village you now see.  It was many years ago that I
built the first houses, and I've kept pretty busy and made my village
grow finely; and I need not tell you that I am very happy in my work."

"Many years ago!" exclaimed Aunt Em.  "Why, how old are you, child?"

"I never keep track of the years," said Miss Cuttenclip, laughing.
"You see, I don't grow up at all, but stay just the same as I was when
first I came here.  Perhaps I'm older even than you are, madam; but I
couldn't say for sure."

They looked at the lovely little girl wonderingly, and the Wizard asked:

"What happens to your paper village when it rains?"

"It does not rain here," replied Miss Cuttenclip.  "Glinda keeps all
the rain storms away; so I never worry about my dolls getting wet.  But
now, if you will come with me, it will give me pleasure to show you
over my paper kingdom.  Of course you must go slowly and carefully, and
avoid making any breeze."

They left the cottage and followed their guide through the various
streets of the village.  It was indeed an amazing place, when one
considered that it was all made with scissors, and the visitors were
not only greatly interested but full of admiration for the skill of
little Miss Cuttenclip.

In one place a large group of especially nice paper dolls assembled to
greet their Queen, whom it was easy to see they loved early.  These
dolls marched and danced before the visitors, and then they all waved
their paper handkerchiefs and sang in a sweet chorus a song called "The
Flag of Our Native Land."

At the conclusion of the song they ran up a handsome paper flag on a
tall flagpole, and all of the people of the village gathered around to
cheer as loudly as they could--although, of course, their voices were
not especially strong.

Miss Cuttenclip was about to make her subjects a speech in reply to
this patriotic song, when the Shaggy Man happened to sneeze.

He was a very loud and powerful sneezer at any time, and he had tried
so hard to hold in this sneeze that when it suddenly exploded the
result was terrible.

The paper dolls were mowed down by dozens, and flew and fluttered in
wild confusion in every direction, tumbling this way and that and
getting more or less wrinkled and bent.

A wail of terror and grief came from the scattered throng, and Miss
Cuttenclip exclaimed:

"Dear me! dear me!" and hurried at once to the rescue of her overturned
people.

"Oh, Shaggy Man!  How could you?" asked Dorothy, reproachfully.

"I couldn't help it--really I couldn't," protested the Shaggy Man,
looking quite ashamed.  "And I had no idea it took so little to upset
these paper dolls."

"So little!" said Dorothy.  "Why, it was 'most as bad as a Kansas
cyclone."  And then she helped Miss Cuttenclip rescue the paper folk
and stand them on their feet again.  Two of the cardboard houses had
also tumbled over, and the little Queen said she would have to repair
them and paste them together before they could be lived in again.

And now, fearing they might do more damage to the flimsy paper people,
they decided to go away.  But first they thanked Miss Cuttenclip very
warmly for her courtesy and kindness to them.

"Any friend of Princess Ozma is always welcome here--unless he
sneezes," said the Queen with a rather severe look at the Shaggy Man,
who hung his head.  "I like to have visitors admire my wonderful
village, and I hope you will call again."

Miss Cuttenclip herself led them to the door in the wall, and as they
passed along the street the paper dolls peeped at them half fearfully
from the doors and windows.  Perhaps they will never forget the Shaggy
Man's awful sneeze, and I am sure they were all glad to see the meat
people go away.



11.  How the General Met the First and Foremost

On leaving the Growleywogs General Guph had to recross the Ripple
Lands, and he did not find it a pleasant thing to do.  Perhaps having
his whiskers pulled out one by one and being used as a pin-cushion for
the innocent amusement of a good natured jailer had not improved the
quality of Guph's temper, for the old Nome raved and raged at the
recollection of the wrongs he had suffered, and vowed to take vengeance
upon the Growleywogs after he had used them for his purposes and Oz had
been conquered.  He went on in this furious way until he was half
across the Ripple Land.  Then he became seasick, and the rest of the
way this naughty Nome was almost as miserable as he deserved to be.

But when he reached the plains again and the ground was firm under his
feet he began to feel better, and instead of going back home he turned
directly west.  A squirrel, perched in a tree, saw him take this road
and called to him warningly: "Look out!"  But he paid no attention.  An
eagle paused in its flight through the air to look at him wonderingly
and say: "Look out!"  But on he went.

No one can say that Guph was not brave, for he had determined to visit
those dangerous creatures the Phanfasms, who resided upon the very top
of the dread Mountain of Phantastico.  The Phanfasms were Erbs, and so
dreaded by mortals and immortals alike that no one had been near their
mountain home for several thousand years.  Yet General Guph hoped to
induce them to join in his proposed warfare against the good and happy
Oz people.

Guph knew very well that the Phanfasms would be almost as dangerous to
the Nomes as they would to the Ozites, but he thought himself so clever
that he believed he could manage these strange creatures and make them
obey him.  And there was no doubt at all that if he could enlist the
services of the Phanfasms, their tremendous power, united to the
strength of the Growleywogs and the cunning of the Whimsies would doom
the Land of Oz to absolute destruction.

So the old Nome climbed the foothills and trudged along the wild
mountain paths until he came to a big gully that encircled the Mountain
of Phantastico and marked the boundary line of the dominion of the
Phanfasms.  This gully was about a third of the way up the mountain,
and it was filled to the brim with red-hot molten lava in which swam
fire-serpents and poisonous salamanders.  The heat from this mass and
its poisonous smell were both so unbearable that even birds hesitated
to fly over the gully, but circled around it.  All living things kept
away from the mountain.

Now Guph had heard, during his long lifetime, many tales of these
dreaded Phanfasms; so he had heard of this barrier of melted lava, and
also he had been told that there was a narrow bridge that spanned it in
one place.  So he walked along the edge until he found the bridge.  It
was a single arch of gray stone, and lying flat upon the bridge was a
scarlet alligator, seemingly fast asleep.

When Guph stumbled over the rocks in approaching the bridge the
creature opened its eyes, from which tiny flames shot in all
directions, and after looking at the intruder very wickedly the scarlet
alligator closed its eyelids again and lay still.

Guph saw there was no room for him to pass the alligator on the narrow
bridge, so he called out to it:

"Good morning, friend.  I don't wish to hurry you, but please tell me
if you are coming down, or going up?"

"Neither," snapped the alligator, clicking its cruel jaws together.

The General hesitated.

"Are you likely to stay there long?" he asked.

"A few hundred years or so," said the alligator.

Guph softly rubbed the end of his nose and tried to think what to do.

"Do you know whether the First and Foremost Phanfasm of Phantastico is
at home or not?" he presently inquired.

"I expect he is, seeing he is always at home," replied the alligator.

"Ah; who is that coming down the mountain?" asked the Nome, gazing
upward.

The alligator turned to look over its shoulder, and at once Guph ran to
the bridge and leaped over the sentinel's back before it could turn
back again.  The scarlet monster made a snap at the Nome's left foot,
but missed it by fully an inch.

"Ah ha!" laughed the General, who was now on the mountain path.  "I
fooled you that time."

"So you did; and perhaps you fooled yourself," retorted the alligator.
"Go up the mountain, if you dare, and find out what the First and
Foremost will do to you!"

"I will," declared Guph, boldly; and on he went up the path.

At first the scene was wild enough, but gradually it grew more and more
awful in appearance.  All the rocks had the shapes of frightful beings
and even the tree trunks were gnarled and twisted like serpents.

Suddenly there appeared before the Nome a man with the head of an owl.
His body was hairy like that of an ape, and his only clothing was a
scarlet scarf twisted around his waist.  He bore a huge club in his
hand and his round owl eyes blinked fiercely upon the intruder.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, threatening Guph with his club.

"I've come to see the First and Foremost Phanfasm of Phantastico,"
replied the General, who did not like the way this creature looked at
him, but still was not afraid.

"Ah; you shall see him!" the man said, with a sneering laugh.  "The
First and Foremost shall decide upon the best way to punish you."

"He will not punish me," returned Guph, calmly, "for I have come here
to do him and his people a rare favor.  Lead on, fellow, and take me
directly to your master."

The owl-man raised his club with a threatening gesture.

"If you try to escape," he said, "beware--"

But here the General interrupted him.

"Spare your threats," said he, "and do not be impertinent, or I will
have you severely punished.  Lead on, and keep silent!"

This Guph was really a clever rascal, and it seems a pity he was so
bad, for in a good cause he might have accomplished much.  He realized
that he had put himself into a dangerous position by coming to this
dreadful mountain, but he also knew that if he showed fear he was lost.
So he adopted a bold manner as his best defense.  The wisdom of this
plan was soon evident, for the Phanfasm with the owl's head turned and
led the way up the mountain.

At the very top was a level plain upon which were heaps of rock that at
first glance seemed solid.  But on looking closer Guph discovered that
these rock heaps were dwellings, for each had an opening.

Not a person was to be seen outside the rock huts.  All was silent.

The owl-man led the way among the groups of dwellings to one standing
in the center.  It seemed no better and no worse than any of the
others.  Outside the entrance to this rock heap the guide gave a low
wail that sounded like "Lee-ow-ah!"

Suddenly there bounded from the opening another hairy man.  This one
wore the head of a bear.  In his hand he bore a brass hoop.  He glared
at the stranger in evident surprise.

"Why have you captured this foolish wanderer and brought him here?" he
demanded, addressing the owl-man.

"I did not capture him," was the answer.  "He passed the scarlet
alligator and came here of his own free will and accord."

The First and Foremost looked at the General.

"Have you tired of life, then?" he asked.

"No indeed," answered Guph.  "I am a Nome, and the Chief General of
King Roquat the Red's great army of Nomes.  I come of a long-lived
race, and I may say that I expect to live a long time yet.  Sit down,
you Phanfasms--if you can find a seat in this wild haunt--and listen to
what I have to say."

With all his knowledge and bravery General Guph did not know that the
steady glare from the bear eyes was reading his inmost thoughts as
surely as if they had been put into words.  He did not know that these
despised rock heaps of the Phanfasms were merely deceptions to his own
eyes, nor could he guess that he was standing in the midst of one of
the most splendid and luxurious cities ever built by magic power.  All
that he saw was a barren waste of rock heaps, a hairy man with an owl's
head and another with a bear's head.  The sorcery of the Phanfasms
permitted him to see no more.

Suddenly the First and Foremost swung his brass hoop and caught Guph
around the neck with it.  The next instant, before the General could
think what had happened to him, he was dragged inside the rock hut.
Here, his eyes still blinded to realities, he perceived only a dim
light, by which the hut seemed as rough and rude inside as it was
outside.  Yet he had a strange feeling that many bright eyes were
fastened upon him and that he stood in a vast and extensive hall.

The First and Foremost now laughed grimly and released his prisoner.

"If you have anything to say that is interesting," he remarked, "speak
out, before I strangle you."

So Guph spoke out.  He tried not to pay any attention to a strange
rustling sound that he heard, as of an unseen multitude drawing near to
listen to his words.  His eyes could see only the fierce bear-man, and
to him he addressed his speech.  First he told of his plan to conquer
the Land of Oz and plunder the country of its riches and enslave its
people, who, being fairies, could not be killed.  After relating all
this, and telling of the tunnel the Nome King was building, he said he
had come to ask the First and Foremost to join the Nomes, with his band
of terrible warriors, and help them to defeat the Oz people.

The General spoke very earnestly and impressively, but when he had
finished the bear-man began to laugh as if much amused, and his
laughter seemed to be echoed by a chorus of merriment from an unseen
multitude.  Then, for the first time, Guph began to feel a trifle
worried.

"Who else has promised to help you?" finally asked the First and
Foremost.

"The Whimsies," replied the General.

Again the bear-headed Phanfasm laughed.

"Any others?" he inquired.

"Only the Growleywogs," said Guph.

This answer set the First and Foremost laughing anew.

"What share of the spoils am I to have?" was the next question.

"Anything you like, except King Roquat's Magic Belt," replied Guph.

At this the Phanfasm set up a roar of laughter, which had its echo in
the unseen chorus, and the bear-man seemed so amused that he actually
rolled upon the ground and shouted with merriment.

"Oh, these blind and foolish Nomes!" he said.  "How big they seem to
themselves and how small they really are!"

Suddenly he arose and seized Guph's neck with one hairy paw, dragging
him out of the hut into the open.

Here he gave a curious wailing cry, and, as if in answer, from all the
rocky huts on the mountain-top came flocking a horde of Phanfasms, all
with hairy bodies, but wearing heads of various animals, birds and
reptiles.  All were ferocious and repulsive-looking to the deceived
eyes of the Nome, and Guph could not repress a shudder of disgust as he
looked upon them.

The First and Foremost slowly raised his arms, and in a twinkling his
hairy skin fell from him and he appeared before the astonished Nome as
a beautiful woman, clothed in a flowing gown of pink gauze.  In her
dark hair flowers were entwined, and her face was noble and calm.

At the same instant the entire band of Phanfasms was transformed into a
pack of howling wolves, running here and there as they snarled and
showed their ugly yellow fangs.

The woman now raised her arms, even as the man-bear had done, and in a
twinkling the wolves became crawling lizards, while she herself changed
into a huge butterfly.

Guph had only time to cry out in fear and take a step backward to avoid
the lizards when another transformation occurred, and all returned
instantly to the forms they had originally worn.

Then the First and Foremost, who had resumed his hairy body and bear
head, turned to the Nome and asked:

"Do you still demand our assistance?"

"More than ever," answered the General, firmly.

"Then tell me: what can you offer the Phanfasms that they have not
already?" inquired the First and Foremost.

Guph hesitated.  He really did not know what to say.  The Nome King's
vaunted Magic Belt seemed a poor thing compared to the astonishing
magical powers of these people.  Gold, jewels and slaves they might
secure in any quantity without especial effort.  He felt that he was
dealing with powers greatly beyond him.  There was but one argument
that might influence the Phanfasms, who were creatures of evil.

"Permit me to call your attention to the exquisite joy of making the
happy unhappy," said he at last.  "Consider the pleasure of destroying
innocent and harmless people."

"Ah! you have answered me," cried the First and Foremost.  "For that
reason alone we will aid you.  Go home, and tell your bandy-legged king
that as soon as his tunnel is finished the Phanfasms will be with him
and lead his legions to the conquest of Oz.  The deadly desert alone
has kept us from destroying Oz long ago, and your underground tunnel is
a clever thought.  Go home, and prepare for our coming!"

Guph was very glad to be permitted to go with this promise.  The
owl-man led him back down the mountain path and ordered the scarlet
alligator to crawl away and allow the Nome to cross the bridge in
safety.

After the visitor had gone a brilliant and gorgeous city appeared upon
the mountain top, clearly visible to the eyes of the gaily dressed
multitude of Phanfasms that lived there.  And the First and Foremost,
beautifully arrayed, addressed the others in these words:

"It is time we went into the world and brought sorrow and dismay to its
people.  Too long have we remained for ourselves upon this mountain
top, for while we are thus secluded many nations have grown happy and
prosperous, and the chief joy of the race of Phanfasms is to destroy
happiness.  So I think it is lucky that this messenger from the Nomes
arrived among us just now, to remind us that the opportunity has come
for us to make trouble.  We will use King Roquat's tunnel to conquer
the Land of Oz.  Then we will destroy the Whimsies, the Growleywogs and
the Nomes, and afterward go out to ravage and annoy and grieve the
whole world."

The multitude of evil Phanfasms eagerly applauded this plan, which they
fully approved.

I am told that the Erbs are the most powerful and merciless of all the
evil spirits, and the Phanfasms of Phantastico belong to the race of
Erbs.



12.  How they Matched the Fuddles

Dorothy and her fellow travelers rode away from the Cuttenclip village
and followed the indistinct path as far as the sign-post.  Here they
took the main road again and proceeded pleasantly through the pretty
farming country.  When evening came they stopped at a dwelling and were
joyfully welcomed and given plenty to eat and good beds for the night.

Early next morning, however, they were up and eager to start, and after
a good breakfast they bade their host good-bye and climbed into the red
wagon, to which the Sawhorse had been hitched all night.  Being made of
wood, this horse never got tired nor cared to lie down.  Dorothy was
not quite sure whether he ever slept or not, but it was certain that he
never did when anybody was around.

The weather is always beautiful in Oz, and this morning the air was
cool and refreshing and the sunshine brilliant and delightful.

In about an hour they came to a place where another road branched off.
There was a sign-post here which read:


THIS WAY TO FUDDLECUMJIG


"Oh, here is where we turn," said Dorothy, observing the sign.

"What!  Are we going to Fuddlecumjig?" asked the Captain General.

"Yes; Ozma thought we might enjoy the Fuddles.  They are said to be
very interesting," she replied.

"No one would suspect it from their name," said Aunt Em.  "Who are
they, anyhow?  More paper things?"

"I think not," answered Dorothy, laughing; "but I can't say 'zactly,
Aunt Em, what they are.  We'll find out when we get there."

"Perhaps the Wizard knows," suggested Uncle Henry.

"No; I've never been there before," said the Wizard.  "But I've often
heard of Fuddlecumjig and the Fuddles, who are said to be the most
peculiar people in all the Land of Oz."

"In what way?" asked the Shaggy Man.

"I don't know, I'm sure," said the Wizard.

Just then, as they rode along the pretty green lane toward
Fuddlecumjig, they espied a kangaroo sitting by the roadside.  The poor
animal had its face covered with both its front paws and was crying so
bitterly that the tears coursed down its cheeks in two tiny streams and
trickled across the road, where they formed a pool in a small hollow.

The Sawhorse stopped short at this pitiful sight, and Dorothy cried
out, with ready sympathy:

"What's the matter, Kangaroo?"

"Boo-hoo!  Boo-hoo!" wailed the Kangaroo; "I've lost my mi--mi--mi--Oh,
boo-hoo!  Boo-hoo!"--

"Poor thing," said the Wizard, "she's lost her mister.  It's probably
her husband, and he's dead."

"No, no, no!" sobbed the kangaroo.  "It--it isn't that.  I've lost my
mi--mi--Oh, boo, boo-hoo!"

"I know," said the Shaggy Man; "she's lost her mirror."

"No; it's my mi--mi--mi--Boo-hoo!  My mi--Oh, Boo-hoo!" and the
kangaroo cried harder than ever.

"It must be her mince-pie," suggested Aunt Em.

"Or her milk-toast," proposed Uncle Henry.

"I've lost my mi--mi--mittens!" said the kangaroo, getting it out at
last.

"Oh!" cried the Yellow Hen, with a cackle of relief.  "Why didn't you
say so before?"

"Boo-hoo!  I--I--couldn't," answered the kangaroo.

"But, see here," said Dorothy, "you don't need mittens in this warm
weather."

"Yes, indeed I do," replied the animal, stopping her sobs and removing
her paws from her face to look at the little girl reproachfully.  "My
hands will get all sunburned and tanned without my mittens, and I've
worn them so long that I'll probably catch cold without them."

"Nonsense!" said Dorothy.  "I never heard of any kangaroo wearing
mittens."

"Didn't you?" asked the animal, as if surprised.

"Never!" repeated the girl.  "And you'll probably make yourself sick if
you don't stop crying.  Where do you live?"

"About two miles beyond Fuddlecumjig," was the answer.  "Grandmother
Gnit made me the mittens, and she's one of the Fuddles."

"Well, you'd better go home now, and perhaps the old lady will make you
another pair," suggested Dorothy.  "We're on our way to Fuddlecumjig,
and you may hop along beside us."

So they rode on, and the kangaroo hopped beside the red wagon and
seemed quickly to have forgotten her loss.  By and by the Wizard said
to the animal:

"Are the Fuddles nice people?"

"Oh, very nice," answered the kangaroo; "that is, when they're properly
put together.  But they get dreadfully scattered and mixed up, at
times, and then you can't do anything with them."

"What do you mean by their getting scattered?" inquired Dorothy.

"Why, they're made in a good many small pieces," explained the
kangaroo; "and whenever any stranger comes near them they have a habit
of falling apart and scattering themselves around.  That's when they
get so dreadfully mixed, and it's a hard puzzle to put them together
again."

"Who usually puts them together?" asked Omby Amby.

"Any one who is able to match the pieces.  I sometimes put Grandmother
Gnit together myself, because I know her so well I can tell every piece
that belongs to her.  Then, when she's all matched, she knits for me,
and that's how she made my mittens.  But it took a good many days hard
knitting, and I had to put Grandmother together a good many times,
because every time I came near, she'd scatter herself."

"I should think she would get used to your coming, and not be afraid,"
said Dorothy.

"It isn't that," replied the kangaroo.  "They're not a bit afraid, when
they're put together, and usually they're very jolly and pleasant.
It's just a habit they have, to scatter themselves, and if they didn't
do it they wouldn't be Fuddles."

The travelers thought upon this quite seriously for a time, while the
Sawhorse continued to carry them rapidly forward.  Then Aunt Em
remarked:

"I don't see much use our visitin' these Fuddles.  If we find them
scattered, all we can do is to sweep 'em up, and then go about our
business."

"Oh, I b'lieve we'd better go on," replied Dorothy.  "I'm getting
hungry, and we must try to get some luncheon at Fuddlecumjig.  Perhaps
the food won't be scattered as badly as the people."

"You'll find plenty to eat there," declared the kangaroo, hopping along
in big bounds because the Sawhorse was going so fast; "and they have a
fine cook, too, if you can manage to put him together.  There's the
town now--just ahead of us!"

They looked ahead and saw a group of very pretty houses standing in a
green field a little apart from the main road.

"Some Munchkins came here a few days ago and matched a lot of people
together," said the kangaroo.  "I think they are together yet, and if
you go softly, without making any noise, perhaps they won't scatter."

"Let's try it," suggested the Wizard.

So they stopped the Sawhorse and got out of the wagon, and, after
bidding good bye to the kangaroo, who hopped away home, they entered
the field and very cautiously approached the group of houses.

So silently did they move that soon they saw through the windows of the
houses, people moving around, while others were passing to and fro in
the yards between the buildings.  They seemed much like other people
from a distance, and apparently they did not notice the little party so
quietly approaching.

They had almost reached the nearest house when Toto saw a large beetle
crossing the path and barked loudly at it.  Instantly a wild clatter
was heard from the houses and yards.  Dorothy thought it sounded like a
sudden hailstorm, and the visitors, knowing that caution was no longer
necessary, hurried forward to see what had happened.

After the clatter an intense stillness reigned in the town.  The
strangers entered the first house they came to, which was also the
largest, and found the floor strewn with pieces of the people who lived
there.  They looked much like fragments of wood neatly painted, and
were of all sorts of curious and fantastic shapes, no two pieces being
in any way alike.

They picked up some of these pieces and looked at them carefully.  On
one which Dorothy held was an eye, which looked at her pleasantly but
with an interested expression, as if it wondered what she was going to
do with it.  Quite near by she discovered and picked up a nose, and by
matching the two pieces together found that they were part of a face.

"If I could find the mouth," she said, "this Fuddle might be able to
talk, and tell us what to do next."

"Then let us find it," replied the Wizard, and so all got down on their
hands and knees and began examining the scattered pieces.

"I've found it!" cried the Shaggy Man, and ran to Dorothy with a
queer-shaped piece that had a mouth on it.  But when they tried to fit
it to the eye and nose they found the parts wouldn't match together.

"That mouth belongs to some other person," said Dorothy.  "You see we
need a curve here and a point there, to make it fit the face."

"Well, it must be here some place," declared the Wizard; "so if we
search long enough we shall find it."

Dorothy fitted an ear on next, and the ear had a little patch of red
hair above it.  So while the others were searching for the mouth she
hunted for pieces with red hair, and found several of them which, when
matched to the other pieces, formed the top of a man's head.  She had
also found the other eye and the ear by the time Omby Amby in a far
corner discovered the mouth.  When the face was thus completed, all the
parts joined together with a nicety that was astonishing.

"Why, it's like a picture puzzle!" exclaimed the little girl.  "Let's
find the rest of him, and get him all together."

"What's the rest of him like?" asked the Wizard.  "Here are some pieces
of blue legs and green arms, but I don't know whether they are his or
not."

"Look for a white shirt and a white apron," said the head which had
been put together, speaking in a rather faint voice.  "I'm the cook."

"Oh, thank you," said Dorothy.  "It's lucky we started you first, for
I'm hungry, and you can be cooking something for us to eat while we
match the other folks together."

It was not so very difficult, now that they had a hint as to how the
man was dressed, to find the other pieces belonging to him, and as all
of them now worked on the cook, trying piece after piece to see if it
would fit, they finally had the cook set up complete.

When he was finished he made them a low bow and said:

"I will go at once to the kitchen to prepare your dinner.  You will
find it something of a job to get all the Fuddles together, so I advise
you to begin on the Lord High Chigglewitz, whose first name is Larry.
He's a bald-headed fat man and is dressed in a blue coat with brass
buttons, a pink vest and drab breeches.  A piece of his left knee is
missing, having been lost years ago when he scattered himself too
carelessly.  That makes him limp a little, but he gets along very well
with half a knee.  As he is the chief personage in this town of
Fuddlecumjig, he will be able to welcome you and assist you with the
others.  So it will be best to work on him while I'm getting your
dinner."

"We will," said the Wizard; "and thank you very much, Cook, for the
suggestion."

Aunt Em was the first to discover a piece of the Lord High Chigglewitz.

"It seems to me like a fool business, this matching folks together,"
she remarked; "but as we haven't anything to do till dinner's ready, we
may as well get rid of some of this rubbish.  Here, Henry, get busy and
look for Larry's bald head.  I've got his pink vest, all right."

They worked with eager interest, and Billina proved a great help to
them.  The Yellow Hen had sharp eyes and could put her head close to
the various pieces that lay scattered around.  She would examine the
Lord High Chigglewitz and see which piece of him was next needed, and
then hunt around until she found it.  So before an hour had passed old
Larry was standing complete before them.

"I congratulate you, my friends," he said, speaking in a cheerful
voice.  "You are certainly the cleverest people who ever visited us.  I
was never matched together so quickly in my life.  I'm considered a
great puzzle, usually."

"Well," said Dorothy, "there used to be a picture puzzle craze in
Kansas, and so I've had some 'sperience matching puzzles.  But the
pictures were flat, while you are round, and that makes you harder to
figure out."

"Thank you, my dear," replied old Larry, greatly pleased.  "I feel
highly complimented.  Were I not a really good puzzle, there would be
no object in my scattering myself."

"Why do you do it?" asked Aunt Em, severely.  "Why don't you behave
yourself, and stay put together?"

The Lord High Chigglewitz seemed annoyed by this speech; but he
replied, politely:

"Madam, you have perhaps noticed that every person has some
peculiarity.  Mine is to scatter myself.  What your own peculiarity is
I will not venture to say; but I shall never find fault with you,
whatever you do."

"Now you've got your diploma, Em," said Uncle Henry, with a laugh, "and
I'm glad of it.  This is a queer country, and we may as well take
people as we find them."

"If we did, we'd leave these folks scattered," she returned, and this
retort made everybody laugh good-naturedly.

Just then Omby Amby found a hand with a knitting needle in it, and they
decided to put Grandmother Gnit together.  She proved an easier puzzle
than old Larry, and when she was completed they found her a pleasant
old lady who welcomed them cordially.  Dorothy told her how the
kangaroo had lost her mittens, and Grandmother Gnit promised to set to
work at once and make the poor animal another pair.

Then the cook came to call them to dinner, and they found an inviting
meal prepared for them.  The Lord High Chigglewitz sat at the head of
the table and Grandmother Gnit at the foot, and the guests had a merry
time and thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

After dinner they went out into the yard and matched several other
people together, and this work was so interesting that they might have
spent the entire day at Fuddlecumjig had not the Wizard suggested that
they resume their journey.

"But I don't like to leave all these poor people scattered," said
Dorothy, undecided what to do.

"Oh, don't mind us, my dear," returned old Larry.  "Every day or so
some of the Gillikins, or Munchkins, or Winkies come here to amuse
themselves by matching us together, so there will be no harm in leaving
these pieces where they are for a time.  But I hope you will visit us
again, and if you do you will always be welcome, I assure you."

"Don't you ever match each other?" she inquired.

"Never; for we are no puzzles to ourselves, and so there wouldn't be
any fun in it."

They now said goodbye to the queer Fuddles and got into their wagon to
continue their journey.

"Those are certainly strange people," remarked Aunt Em, thoughtfully,
as they drove away from Fuddlecumjig, "but I really can't see what use
they are, at all."

"Why, they amused us all for several hours," replied the Wizard.  "That
is being of use to us, I'm sure."

"I think they're more fun than playing solitaire or mumbletypeg,"
declared Uncle Henry, soberly.  "For my part, I'm glad we visited the
Fuddles."



13.  How the General Talked to the King

When General Guph returned to the cavern of the Nome King his Majesty
asked:

"Well, what luck?  Will the Whimsies join us?"

"They will," answered the General.  "They will fight for us with all
their strength and cunning."

"Good!" exclaimed the King.  "What reward did you promise them?"

"Your Majesty is to use the Magic Belt to give each Whimsie a large,
fine head, in place of the small one he is now obliged to wear."

"I agree to that," said the King.  "This is good news, Guph, and it
makes me feel more certain of the conquest of Oz."

"But I have other news for you," announced the General.

"Good or bad?"

"Good, your Majesty."

"Then I will hear it," said the King, with interest.

"The Growleywogs will join us."

"No!" cried the astonished King.

"Yes, indeed," said the General.  "I have their promise."

"But what reward do they demand?" inquired the King, suspiciously, for
he knew how greedy the Growleywogs were.

"They are to take a few of the Oz people for their slaves," replied
Guph.  He did not think it necessary to tell Roquat that the
Growleywogs demanded twenty thousand slaves.  It would be time enough
for that when Oz was conquered.

"A very reasonable request, I'm sure," remarked the King.  "I must
congratulate you, Guph, upon the wonderful success of your journey."

"But that is not all," said the General, proudly.

The King seemed astonished.  "Speak out, sir!" he commanded.

"I have seen the First and Foremost Phanfasm of the Mountain of
Phantastico, and he will bring his people to assist us."

"What!" cried the King.  "The Phanfasms!  You don't mean it, Guph!"

"It is true," declared the General, proudly.

The King became thoughtful, and his brows wrinkled.

"I'm afraid, Guph," he said rather anxiously, "that the First and
Foremost may prove as dangerous to us as to the Oz people.  If he and
his terrible band come down from the mountain they may take the notion
to conquer the Nomes!"

"Pah!  That is a foolish idea," retorted Guph, irritably, but he knew
in his heart that the King was right.  "The First and Foremost is a
particular friend of mine, and will do us no harm.  Why, when I was
there, he even invited me into his house."

The General neglected to tell the King how he had been jerked into the
hut of the First and Foremost by means of the brass hoop.  So Roquat
the Red looked at his General admiringly and said:

"You are a wonderful Nome, Guph.  I'm sorry I did not make you my
General before.  But what reward did the First and Foremost demand?"

"Nothing at all," answered Guph.  "Even the Magic Belt itself could not
add to his powers of sorcery.  All the Phanfasms wish is to destroy the
Oz people, who are good and happy.  This pleasure will amply repay them
for assisting us."

"When will they come?" asked Roquat, half fearfully.

"When the tunnel is completed," said the General.

"We are nearly halfway under the desert now," announced the King; "and
that is fast work, because the tunnel has to be drilled through solid
rock.  But after we have passed the desert it will not take us long to
extend the tunnel to the walls of the Emerald City."

"Well, whenever you are ready, we shall be joined by the Whimsies, the
Growleywogs and the Phanfasms," said Guph; "so the conquest of Oz is
assured without a doubt."

Again, the King seemed thoughtful.

"I'm almost sorry we did not undertake the conquest alone," said he.
"All of these allies are dangerous people, and they may demand more
than you have promised them.  It might have been better to have
conquered Oz without any outside assistance."

"We could not do it," said the General, positively.

"Why not, Guph?"

"You know very well.  You have had one experience with the Oz people,
and they defeated you."

"That was because they rolled eggs at us," replied the King, with a
shudder.  "My Nomes cannot stand eggs, any more than I can myself.
They are poison to all who live underground."

"That is true enough," agreed Guph.

"But we might have taken the Oz people by surprise, and conquered them
before they had a chance to get any eggs.  Our former defeat was due to
the fact that the girl Dorothy had a Yellow Hen with her.  I do not
know what ever became of that hen, but I believe there are no hens at
all in the Land of Oz, and so there could be no eggs there."

"On the contrary," said Guph, "there are now hundreds of chickens in
Oz, and they lay heaps of those dangerous eggs.  I met a goshawk on my
way home, and the bird informed me that he had lately been to Oz to
capture and devour some of the young chickens.  But they are protected
by magic, so the hawk did not get a single one of them."

"That is a very bad report," said the King, nervously.  "Very bad,
indeed.  My Nomes are willing to fight, but they simply can't face
hen's eggs--and I don't blame them."

"They won't need to face them," replied Guph.  "I'm afraid of eggs
myself, and don't propose to take any chances of being poisoned by
them.  My plan is to send the Whimsies through the tunnel first, and
then the Growleywogs and the Phanfasms.  By the time we Nomes get there
the eggs will all be used up, and we may then pursue and capture the
inhabitants at our leisure."

"Perhaps you are right," returned the King, with a dismal sigh.  "But I
want it distinctly understood that I claim Ozma and Dorothy as my own
prisoners.  They are rather nice girls, and I do not intend to let any
of those dreadful creatures hurt them, or make them their slaves.  When
I have captured them I will bring them here and transform them into
china ornaments to stand on my mantle.  They will look very
pretty--Dorothy on one end of the mantle and Ozma on the other--and I
shall take great care to see they are not broken when the maids dust
them."

"Very well, your Majesty.  Do what you will with the girls for all I
care.  Now that our plans are arranged, and we have the three most
powerful bands of evil spirits in the world to assist us, let us make
haste to get the tunnel finished as soon as possible."

"It will be ready in three days," promised the King, and hurried away
to inspect the work and see that the Nomes kept busy.



14.  How the Wizard Practiced Sorcery

"Where next?" asked the Wizard when they had left the town of
Fuddlecumjig and the Sawhorse had started back along the road.

"Why, Ozma laid out this trip," replied Dorothy, "and she 'vised us to
see the Rigmaroles next, and then visit the Tin Woodman."

"That sounds good," said the Wizard.  "But what road do we take to get
to the Rigmaroles?"

"I don't know, 'zactly," returned the little girl; "but it must be
somewhere just southwest from here."

"Then why need we go way back to the crossroads?" asked the Shaggy Man.
"We might save a lot of time by branching off here."

"There isn't any path," asserted Uncle Henry.

"Then we'd better go back to the signposts, and make sure of our way,"
decided Dorothy.

But after they had gone a short distance farther the Sawhorse, who had
overheard their conversation, stopped and said:

"Here is a path."

Sure enough, a dim path seemed to branch off from the road they were
on, and it led across pretty green meadows and past leafy groves,
straight toward the southwest.

"That looks like a good path," said Omby Amby.  "Why not try it?"

"All right," answered Dorothy.  "I'm anxious to see what the Rigmaroles
are like, and this path ought to take us there the quickest way."

No one made any objection to this plan, so the Sawhorse turned into the
path, which proved to be nearly as good as the one they had taken to
get to the Fuddles.  As first they passed a few retired farm houses,
but soon these scattered dwellings were left behind and only the
meadows and the trees were before them.  But they rode along in
cheerful contentment, and Aunt Em got into an argument with Billina
about the proper way to raise chickens.

"I do not care to contradict you," said the Yellow Hen, with dignity,
"but I have an idea I know more about chickens than human beings do."

"Pshaw!" replied Aunt Em.  "I've raised chickens for nearly forty
years, Billina, and I know you've got to starve 'em to make 'em lay
lots of eggs, and stuff 'em if you want good broilers."

"Broilers!" exclaimed Billina, in horror.  "Broil my chickens!"

"Why, that's what they're for, ain't it?" asked Aunt Em, astonished.

"No, Aunt, not in Oz," said Dorothy.  "People do not eat chickens here.
You see, Billina was the first hen that was ever seen in this country,
and I brought her here myself.  Everybody liked her an' respected her,
so the Oz people wouldn't any more eat her chickens than they would eat
Billina."

"Well, I declare," gasped Aunt Em.  "How about the eggs?"

"Oh, if we have more eggs than we want to hatch, we allow people to eat
them," said Billina.  "Indeed, I am very glad the Oz folks like our
eggs, for otherwise they would spoil."

"This certainly is a queer country," sighed Aunt Em.

"Excuse me," called the Sawhorse, "the path has ended and I'd like to
know which way to go."

They looked around and sure enough there was no path to be seen.

"Well," said Dorothy, "we're going southwest, and it seems just as easy
to follow that direction without a path as with one."

"Certainly," answered the Sawhorse.  "It is not hard to draw the wagon
over the meadow.  I only want to know where to go."

"There's a forest over there across the prairie," said the Wizard, "and
it lies in the direction we are going.  Make straight for the forest,
Sawhorse, and you're bound to go right."

So the wooden animal trotted on again and the meadow grass was so soft
under the wheels that it made easy riding.  But Dorothy was a little
uneasy at losing the path, because now there was nothing to guide them.

No houses were to be seen at all, so they could not ask their way of
any farmer; and although the Land of Oz was always beautiful, wherever
one might go, this part of the country was strange to all the party.

"Perhaps we're lost," suggested Aunt Em, after they had proceeded quite
a way in silence.

"Never mind," said the Shaggy Man; "I've been lost many a time--and so
has Dorothy--and we've always been found again."

"But we may get hungry," remarked Omby Amby.  "That is the worst of
getting lost in a place where there are no houses near."

"We had a good dinner at the Fuddle town," said Uncle Henry, "and that
will keep us from starving to death for a long time."

"No one ever starved to death in Oz," declared Dorothy, positively;
"but people may get pretty hungry sometimes."

The Wizard said nothing, and he did not seem especially anxious.  The
Sawhorse was trotting along briskly, yet the forest seemed farther away
than they had thought when they first saw it.  So it was nearly sundown
when they finally came to the trees; but now they found themselves in a
most beautiful spot, the wide-spreading trees being covered with
flowering vines and having soft mosses underneath them.  "This will be
a good place to camp," said the Wizard, as the Sawhorse stopped for
further instructions.

"Camp!" they all echoed.

"Certainly," asserted the Wizard.  "It will be dark before very long
and we cannot travel through this forest at night.  So let us make a
camp here, and have some supper, and sleep until daylight comes again."

They all looked at the little man in astonishment, and Aunt Em said,
with a sniff:

"A pretty camp we'll have, I must say!  I suppose you intend us to
sleep under the wagon."

"And chew grass for our supper," added the Shaggy Man, laughing.

But Dorothy seemed to have no doubts and was quite cheerful

"It's lucky we have the wonderful Wizard with us," she said; "because
he can do 'most anything he wants to."

"Oh, yes; I forgot we had a Wizard," said Uncle Henry, looking at the
little man curiously.

"I didn't," chirped Billina, contentedly.

The Wizard smiled and climbed out of the wagon, and all the others
followed him.

"In order to camp," said he, "the first thing we need is tents.  Will
some one please lend me a handkerchief?"

The Shaggy Man offered him one, and Aunt Em another.  He took them both
and laid them carefully upon the grass near to the edge of the forest.
Then he laid his own handkerchief down, too, and standing a little back
from them he waved his left hand toward the handkerchiefs and said:

  "Tents of canvas, white as snow,
  Let me see how fast you grow!"


Then, lo and behold! the handkerchiefs became tiny tents, and as the
travelers looked at them the tents grew bigger and bigger until in a
few minutes each one was large enough to contain the entire party.

"This," said the Wizard, pointing to the first tent, "is for the
accommodation of the ladies.  Dorothy, you and your Aunt may step
inside and take off your things."

Every one ran to look inside the tent, and they saw two pretty white
beds, all ready for Dorothy and Aunt Em, and a silver roost for
Billina.  Rugs were spread upon the grassy floor and some camp chairs
and a table completed the furniture.

"Well, well, well!  This beats anything I ever saw or heard of!"
exclaimed Aunt Em, and she glanced at the Wizard almost fearfully, as
if he might be dangerous because of his great powers.

"Oh, Mr. Wizard!  How did you manage to do it?" asked Dorothy.

"It's a trick Glinda the Sorceress taught me, and it is much better
magic than I used to practice in Omaha, or when I first came to Oz," he
answered.  "When the good Glinda found I was to live in the Emerald
City always, she promised to help me, because she said the Wizard of Oz
ought really to be a clever Wizard, and not a humbug.  So we have been
much together and I am learning so fast that I expect to be able to
accomplish some really wonderful things in time."

"You've done it now!" declared Dorothy.  "These tents are just
wonderful!"

"But come and see the men's tent," said the Wizard.  So they went to
the second tent, which had shaggy edges because it has been made from
the Shaggy Man's handkerchief, and found that completely furnished
also.  It contained four neat beds for Uncle Henry, Omby Amby, the
Shaggy Man and the Wizard.  Also there was a soft rug for Toto to lie
upon.

"The third tent," explained the Wizard, "is our dining room and
kitchen."

They visited that next, and found a table and dishes in the dining
tent, with plenty of those things necessary to use in cooking.  The
Wizard carried out a big kettle and set it swinging on a crossbar
before the tent.  While he was doing this Omby Amby and the Shaggy Man
brought a supply of twigs from the forest and then they built a fire
underneath the kettle.

"Now, Dorothy," said the Wizard, smiling, "I expect you to cook our
supper."

"But there is nothing in the kettle," she cried.

"Are you sure?" inquired the Wizard.

"I didn't see anything put in, and I'm almost sure it was empty when
you brought it out," she replied.

"Nevertheless," said the little man, winking slyly at Uncle Henry, "you
will do well to watch our supper, my dear, and see that it doesn't boil
over."

Then the men took some pails and went into the forest to search for a
spring of water, and while they were gone Aunt Em said to Dorothy:

"I believe the Wizard is fooling us.  I saw the kettle myself, and when
he hung it over the fire there wasn't a thing in it but air."

"Don't worry," remarked Billina, confidently, as she nestled in the
grass before the fire.  "You'll find something in the kettle when it's
taken off--and it won't be poor, innocent chickens, either."

"Your hen has very bad manners, Dorothy," said Aunt Em, looking
somewhat disdainfully at Billina.  "It seems too bad she ever learned
how to talk."

There might have been another unpleasant quarrel between Aunt Em and
Billina had not the men returned just then with their pails filled with
clear, sparkling water.  The Wizard told Dorothy that she was a good
cook and he believed their supper was ready.

So Uncle Henry lifted the kettle from the fire and poured its contents
into a big platter which the Wizard held for him.  The platter was
fairly heaped with a fine stew, smoking hot, with many kinds of
vegetables and dumplings and a rich, delicious gravy.

The Wizard triumphantly placed the platter upon the table in the dining
tent and then they all sat down in camp chairs to the feast.

There were several other dishes on the table, all carefully covered,
and when the time came to remove these covers they found bread and
butter, cakes, cheese, pickles and fruits--including some of the
luscious strawberries of Oz.

No one ventured to ask a question as to how these things came there.
They contented themselves by eating heartily the good things provided,
and Toto and Billina had their full share, you may be sure.  After the
meal was over, Aunt Em whispered to Dorothy:

"That may have been magic food, my dear, and for that reason perhaps it
won't be very nourishing; but I'm willing to say it tasted as good as
anything I ever et."  Then she added, in a louder voice: "Who's going
to do the dishes?"

"No one, madam," answered the Wizard.  "The dishes have 'done'
themselves."

"La sakes!" ejaculated the good lady, holding up her hands in
amazement.  For, sure enough, when she looked at the dishes they had a
moment before left upon the table, she found them all washed and dried
and piled up into neat stacks.



15.  How Dorothy Happened to Get Lost

It was a beautiful evening, so they drew their camp chairs in a circle
before one of the tents and began to tell stories to amuse themselves
and pass away the time before they went to bed.

Pretty soon a zebra was seen coming out of the forest, and he trotted
straight up to them and said politely:

"Good evening, people."

The zebra was a sleek little animal and had a slender head, a stubby
mane and a paint-brush tail--very like a donkey's.  His neatly shaped
white body was covered with regular bars of dark brown, and his hoofs
were delicate as those of a deer.

"Good evening, friend Zebra," said Omby Amby, in reply to the
creature's greeting.  "Can we do anything for you?"

"Yes," answered the zebra.  "I should like you to settle a dispute that
has long been a bother to me, as to whether there is more water or land
in the world."

"Who are you disputing with?" asked the Wizard.

"With a soft-shell crab," said the zebra.  "He lives in a pool where I
go to drink every day, and he is a very impertinent crab, I assure you.
I have told him many times that the land is much greater in extent than
the water, but he will not be convinced.  Even this very evening, when
I told him he was an insignificant creature who lived in a small pool,
he asserted that the water was greater and more important than the
land.  So, seeing your camp, I decided to ask you to settle the dispute
for once and all, that I may not be further annoyed by this ignorant
crab."

When they had listened to this explanation Dorothy inquired:

"Where is the soft-shell crab?"

"Not far away," replied the zebra.  "If you will agree to judge between
us I will run and get him."

"Run along, then," said the little girl.

So the animal pranced into the forest and soon came trotting back to
them.  When he drew near they found a soft-shell crab clinging fast to
the stiff hair of the zebra's head, where it held on by one claw.

"Now then, Mr. Crab," said the zebra, "here are the people I told you
about; and they know more than you do, who lives in a pool, and more
than I do, who lives in a forest.  For they have been travelers all
over the world, and know every part of it."

"There is more of the world than Oz," declared the crab, in a stubborn
voice.

"That is true," said Dorothy; "but I used to live in Kansas, in the
United States, and I've been to California and to Australia and so has
Uncle Henry."

"For my part," added the Shaggy Man, "I've been to Mexico and Boston
and many other foreign countries."

"And I," said the Wizard, "have been to Europe and Ireland."

"So you see," continued the zebra, addressing the crab, "here are
people of real consequence, who know what they are talking about."

"Then they know there's more water in the world than there is land,"
asserted the crab, in a shrill, petulant voice.

"They know you are wrong to make such an absurd statement, and they
will probably think you are a lobster instead of a crab," retorted the
animal.

At this taunt the crab reached out its other claw and seized the
zebra's ear, and the creature gave a cry of pain and began prancing up
and down, trying to shake off the crab, which clung fast.

"Stop pinching!" cried the zebra.  "You promised not to pinch if I
would carry you here!"

"And you promised to treat me respectfully," said the crab, letting go
the ear.

"Well, haven't I?" demanded the zebra.

"No; you called me a lobster," said the crab.

"Ladies and gentlemen," continued the zebra, "please pardon my poor
friend, because he is ignorant and stupid, and does not understand.
Also the pinch of his claw is very annoying.  So pray tell him that the
world contains more land than water, and when he has heard your
judgment I will carry him back and dump him into his pool, where I hope
he will be more modest in the future."

"But we cannot tell him that," said Dorothy, gravely, "because it would
not be true."

"What!" exclaimed the zebra, in astonishment; "do I hear you aright?"

"The soft-shell crab is correct," declared the Wizard.  "There is
considerably more water than there is land in the world."

"Impossible!" protested the zebra.  "Why, I can run for days upon the
land, and find but little water."

"Did you ever see an ocean?" asked Dorothy.

"Never," admitted the zebra.  "There is no such thing as an ocean in
the Land of Oz."

"Well, there are several oceans in the world," said Dorothy, "and
people sail in ships upon these oceans for weeks and weeks, and never
see a bit of land at all.  And the joggerfys will tell you that all the
oceans put together are bigger than all the land put together."

At this the crab began laughing in queer chuckles that reminded Dorothy
of the way Billina sometimes cackled.

"NOW will you give up, Mr. Zebra?" it cried, jeeringly; "now will you
give up?"

The zebra seemed much humbled.

"Of course I cannot read geographys," he said.

"You could take one of the Wizard's School Pills," suggested Billina,
"and that would make you learned and wise without studying."

The crab began laughing again, which so provoked the zebra that he
tried to shake the little creature off.  This resulted in more
ear-pinching, and finally Dorothy told them that if they could not
behave they must go back to the forest.

"I'm sorry I asked you to decide this question," said the zebra,
crossly.  "So long as neither of us could prove we were right we quite
enjoyed the dispute; but now I can never drink at that pool again
without the soft-shell crab laughing at me.  So I must find another
drinking place."

"Do!  Do, you ignoramus!" shouted the crab, as loudly as his little
voice would carry.  "Rile some other pool with your clumsy hoofs, and
let your betters alone after this!"

Then the zebra trotted back to the forest, bearing the crab with him,
and disappeared amid the gloom of the trees.  And as it was now getting
dark the travelers said good night to one another and went to bed.

Dorothy awoke just as the light was beginning to get strong next
morning, and not caring to sleep any later she quietly got out of bed,
dressed herself, and left the tent where Aunt Em was yet peacefully
slumbering.

Outside she noticed Billina busily pecking around to secure bugs or
other food for breakfast, but none of the men in the other tent seemed
awake.  So the little girl decided to take a walk in the woods and try
to discover some path or road that they might follow when they again
started upon their journey.

She had reached the edge of the forest when the Yellow Hen came
fluttering along and asked where she was going.

"Just to take a walk, Billina; and maybe I'll find some path," said
Dorothy.

"Then I'll go along," decided Billina, and scarcely had she spoken when
Toto ran up and joined them.

Toto and the Yellow Hen had become quite friendly by this time,
although at first they did not get along well together.  Billina had
been rather suspicious of dogs, and Toto had had an idea that it was
every dog's duty to chase a hen on sight.  But Dorothy had talked to
them and scolded them for not being agreeable to one another until they
grew better acquainted and became friends.

I won't say they loved each other dearly, but at least they had stopped
quarreling and now managed to get on together very well.

The day was growing lighter every minute and driving the black shadows
out of the forest; so Dorothy found it very pleasant walking under the
trees.  She went some distance in one direction, but not finding a
path, presently turned in a different direction.  There was no path
here, either, although she advanced quite a way into the forest,
winding here and there among the trees and peering through the bushes
in an endeavor to find some beaten track.

"I think we'd better go back," suggested the Yellow Hen, after a time.
"The people will all be up by this time and breakfast will be ready."

"Very well," agreed Dorothy.  "Let's see--the camp must be over this
way."

She had probably made a mistake about that, for after they had gone far
enough to have reached the camp they still found themselves in the
thick of the woods.  So the little girl stopped short and looked around
her, and Toto glanced up into her face with his bright little eyes and
wagged his tail as if he knew something was wrong.  He couldn't tell
much about direction himself, because he had spent his time prowling
among the bushes and running here and there; nor had Billina paid much
attention to where they were going, being interested in picking bugs
from the moss as they passed along.  The Yellow Hen now turned one eye
up toward the little girl and asked:

"Have you forgotten where the camp is, Dorothy?"

"Yes," she admitted; "have you, Billina?"

"I didn't try to remember," returned Billina.  "I'd no idea you would
get lost, Dorothy."

"It's the thing we don't expect, Billina, that usually happens,"
observed the girl, thoughtfully.  "But it's no use standing here.
Let's go in that direction," pointing a finger at random.  "It may be
we'll get out of the forest over there."

So on they went again, but this way the trees were closer together, and
the vines were so tangled that often they tripped Dorothy up.

Suddenly a voice cried sharply:

"Halt!"

At first, Dorothy could see nothing, although she looked around very
carefully.  But Billina exclaimed:

"Well, I declare!"

"What is it?" asked the little girl: for Toto began barking at
something, and following his gaze she discovered what it was.

A row of spoons had surrounded the three, and these spoons stood
straight up on their handles and carried swords and muskets.  Their
faces were outlined in the polished bowls and they looked very stern
and severe.

Dorothy laughed at the queer things.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"We're the Spoon Brigade," said one.

"In the service of his Majesty King Kleaver," said another.

"And you are our prisoners," said a third.

Dorothy sat down on an old stump and looked at them, her eyes twinkling
with amusement.

"What would happen," she inquired, "if I should set my dog on your
Brigade?"

"He would die," replied one of the spoons, sharply.  "One shot from our
deadly muskets would kill him, big as he is."

"Don't risk it, Dorothy," advised the Yellow Hen.  "Remember this is a
fairy country, yet none of us three happens to be a fairy."

Dorothy grew sober at this.

"P'raps you're right, Billina," she answered.  "But how funny it is, to
be captured by a lot of spoons!"

"I do not see anything very funny about it," declared a spoon.  "We're
the regular military brigade of the kingdom."

"What kingdom?" she asked.

"Utensia," said he.

"I never heard of it before," asserted Dorothy.  Then she added
thoughtfully, "I don't believe Ozma ever heard of Utensia, either.
Tell me, are you not subjects of Ozma of Oz?"

"We have never heard of her," retorted a spoon.  "We are subjects of
King Kleaver, and obey only his orders, which are to bring all
prisoners to him as soon as they are captured.  So step lively, my
girl, and march with us, or we may be tempted to cut off a few of your
toes with our swords."

This threat made Dorothy laugh again.  She did not believe she was in
any danger; but here was a new and interesting adventure, so she was
willing to be taken to Utensia that she might see what King Kleaver's
kingdom was like.



16.  How Dorothy Visited Utensia

There must have been from six to eight dozen spoons in the Brigade, and
they marched away in the shape of a hollow square, with Dorothy,
Billina and Toto in the center of the square.  Before they had gone
very far Toto knocked over one of the spoons by wagging his tail, and
then the Captain of the Spoons told the little dog to be more careful,
or he would be punished.  So Toto was careful, and the Spoon Brigade
moved along with astonishing swiftness, while Dorothy really had to
walk fast to keep up with it.

By and by they left the woods and entered a big clearing, in which was
the Kingdom of Utensia.

Standing all around the clearing were a good many cookstoves, ranges
and grills, of all sizes and shapes, and besides these there were
several kitchen cabinets and cupboards and a few kitchen tables.  These
things were crowded with utensils of all sorts: frying pans, sauce
pans, kettles, forks, knives, basting and soup spoons, nutmeg graters,
sifters, colanders, meat saws, flat irons, rolling pins and many other
things of a like nature.

When the Spoon Brigade appeared with the prisoners a wild shout arose
and many of the utensils hopped off their stoves or their benches and
ran crowding around Dorothy and the hen and the dog.

"Stand back!" cried the Captain, sternly, and he led his captives
through the curious throng until they came before a big range that
stood in the center of the clearing.  Beside this range was a butcher
block upon which lay a great cleaver with a keen edge.  It rested upon
the flat of its back, its legs were crossed and it was smoking a long
pipe.

"Wake up, your Majesty," said the Captain.  "Here are prisoners."

Hearing this, King Kleaver sat up and looked at Dorothy sharply.

"Gristle and fat!" he cried.  "Where did this girl come from?"

"I found her in the forest and brought her here a prisoner," replied
the Captain.

"Why did you do that?" inquired the King, puffing his pipe lazily.

"To create some excitement," the Captain answered.  "It is so quiet
here that we are all getting rusty for want of amusement.  For my part,
I prefer to see stirring times."

"Naturally," returned the cleaver, with a nod.  "I have always said,
Captain, without a bit of irony, that you are a sterling officer and a
solid citizen, bowled and polished to a degree.  But what do you expect
me to do with these prisoners?"

"That is for you to decide," declared the Captain.  "You are the King."

"To be sure; to be sure," muttered the cleaver, musingly.  "As you say,
we have had dull times since the steel and grindstone eloped and left
us.  Command my Counselors and the Royal Courtiers to attend me, as
well as the High Priest and the Judge.  We'll then decide what can be
done."

The Captain saluted and retired and Dorothy sat down on an overturned
kettle and asked:

"Have you anything to eat in your kingdom?"

"Here!  Get up!  Get off from me!" cried a faint voice, at which his
Majesty the cleaver said:

"Excuse me, but you're sitting on my friend the Ten-quart Kettle."

Dorothy at once arose, and the kettle turned right side up and looked
at her reproachfully.

"I'm a friend of the King, so no one dares sit on me," said he.

"I'd prefer a chair, anyway," she replied.

"Sit on that hearth," commanded the King.

So Dorothy sat on the hearth-shelf of the big range, and the subjects
of Utensia began to gather around in a large and inquisitive throng.
Toto lay at Dorothy's feet and Billina flew upon the range, which had
no fire in it, and perched there as comfortably as she could.

When all the Counselors and Courtiers had assembled--and these seemed
to include most of the inhabitants of the kingdom--the King rapped on
the block for order and said:

"Friends and Fellow Utensils!  Our worthy Commander of the Spoon
Brigade, Captain Dipp, has captured the three prisoners you see before
you and brought them here for--for--I don't know what for.  So I ask
your advice how to act in this matter, and what fate I should mete out
to these captives.  Judge Sifter, stand on my right.  It is your
business to sift this affair to the bottom.  High Priest Colender,
stand on my left and see that no one testifies falsely in this matter."

As these two officials took their places, Dorothy asked:

"Why is the colander the High Priest?"

"He's the holiest thing we have in the kingdom," replied King Kleaver.

"Except me," said a sieve.  "I'm the whole thing when it comes to
holes."

"What we need," remarked the King, rebukingly, "is a wireless sieve.  I
must speak to Marconi about it.  These old-fashioned sieves talk too
much.  Now, it is the duty of the King's Counselors to counsel the King
at all times of emergency, so I beg you to speak out and advise me what
to do with these prisoners."

"I demand that they be killed several times, until they are dead!"
shouted a pepperbox, hopping around very excitedly.

"Compose yourself, Mr. Paprica," advised the King.  "Your remarks are
piquant and highly-seasoned, but you need a scattering of commonsense.
It is only necessary to kill a person once to make him dead; but I do
not see that it is necessary to kill this little girl at all."

"I don't, either," said Dorothy.

"Pardon me, but you are not expected to advise me in this matter,"
replied King Kleaver.

"Why not?" asked Dorothy.

"You might be prejudiced in your own favor, and so mislead us," he
said.  "Now then, good subjects, who speaks next?"

"I'd like to smooth this thing over, in some way," said a flatiron,
earnestly.  "We are supposed to be useful to mankind, you know."

"But the girl isn't mankind!  She's womankind!" yelled a corkscrew.

"What do you know about it?" inquired the King.

"I'm a lawyer," said the corkscrew, proudly.  "I am accustomed to
appear at the bar."

"But you're crooked," retorted the King, "and that debars you.  You may
be a corking good lawyer, Mr. Popp, but I must ask you to withdraw your
remarks."

"Very well," said the corkscrew, sadly; "I see I haven't any pull at
this court."

"Permit me," continued the flatiron, "to press my suit, your Majesty.
I do not wish to gloss over any fault the prisoner may have committed,
if such a fault exists; but we owe her some consideration, and that's
flat!"

"I'd like to hear from Prince Karver," said the King.

At this a stately carvingknife stepped forward and bowed.

"The Captain was wrong to bring this girl here, and she was wrong to
come," he said.  "But now that the foolish deed is done let us all
prove our mettle and have a slashing good time."

"That's it! that's it!" screamed a fat choppingknife.  "We'll make
mincemeat of the girl and hash of the chicken and sausage of the dog!"

There was a shout of approval at this and the King had to rap again for
order.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen!" he said, "your remarks are somewhat cutting and
rather disjointed, as might be expected from such acute intellects.
But you give me no reasons for your demands."

"See here, Kleaver; you make me tired," said a saucepan, strutting
before the King very impudently.  "You're about the worst King that
ever reigned in Utensia, and that's saying a good deal.  Why don't you
run things yourself, instead of asking everybody's advice, like the
big, clumsy idiot you are?"

The King sighed.

"I wish there wasn't a saucepan in my kingdom," he said.  "You fellows
are always stewing, over something, and every once in a while you slop
over and make a mess of it.  Go hang yourself, sir--by the handle--and
don't let me hear from you again."

Dorothy was much shocked by the dreadful language the utensils
employed, and she thought that they must have had very little proper
training.  So she said, addressing the King, who seemed very unfit to
rule his turbulent subjects:

"I wish you'd decide my fate right away.  I can't stay here all day,
trying to find out what you're going to do with me."

"This thing is becoming a regular broil, and it's time I took part in
it," observed a big gridiron, coming forward.

"What I'd like to know," said a can-opener, in a shrill voice, "is why
the little girl came to our forest anyhow and why she intruded upon
Captain Dipp--who ought to be called Dippy--and who she is, and where
she came from, and where she is going, and why and wherefore and
therefore and when."

"I'm sorry to see, Sir Jabber," remarked the King to the can-opener,
"that you have such a prying disposition.  As a matter of fact, all the
things you mention are none of our business."

Having said this the King relighted his pipe, which had gone out.

"Tell me, please, what IS our business?" inquired a potato-masher,
winking at Dorothy somewhat impertinently.  "I'm fond of little girls,
myself, and it seems to me she has as much right to wander in the
forest as we have."

"Who accuses the little girl, anyway?" inquired a rolling-pin.  "What
has she done?"

"I don't know," said the King.  "What has she done, Captain Dipp?"

"That's the trouble, your Majesty.  She hasn't done anything," replied
the Captain.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Dorothy.

This question seemed to puzzle them all.  Finally, a chafingdish,
exclaimed irritably:

"If no one can throw any light on this subject you must excuse me if I
go out."

At this, a big kitchen fork pricked up its ears and said in a tiny
voice:

"Let's hear from Judge Sifter."

"That's proper," returned the King.

So Judge Sifter turned around slowly several times and then said:

"We have nothing against the girl except the stove-hearth upon which
she sits.  Therefore I order her instantly discharged."

"Discharged!" cried Dorothy.  "Why, I never was discharged in my life,
and I don't intend to be.  If it's all the same to you, I'll resign."

"It's all the same," declared the King.  "You are free--you and your
companions--and may go wherever you like."

"Thank you," said the little girl.  "But haven't you anything to eat in
your kingdom?  I'm hungry."

"Go into the woods and pick blackberries," advised the King, lying down
upon his back again and preparing to go to sleep.  "There isn't a
morsel to eat in all Utensia, that I know of."

So Dorothy jumped up and said:

"Come on, Toto and Billina.  If we can't find the camp, we may find
some blackberries."

The utensils drew back and allowed them to pass without protest,
although Captain Dipp marched the Spoon Brigade in close order after
them until they had reached the edge of the clearing.

There the spoons halted; but Dorothy and her companions entered the
forest again and began searching diligently for a way back to the camp,
that they might rejoin their party.



17.  How They Came to Bunbury

Wandering through the woods, without knowing where you are going or
what adventure you are about to meet next, is not as pleasant as one
might think.  The woods are always beautiful and impressive, and if you
are not worried or hungry you may enjoy them immensely; but Dorothy was
worried and hungry that morning, so she paid little attention to the
beauties of the forest, and hurried along as fast as she could go.  She
tried to keep in one direction and not circle around, but she was not
at all sure that the direction she had chosen would lead her to the
camp.

By and by, to her great joy, she came upon a path.  It ran to the right
and to the left, being lost in the trees in both directions, and just
before her, upon a big oak, were fastened two signs, with arms pointing
both ways.  One sign read:


TAKE THE OTHER ROAD TO BUNBURY


and the second sign read:


TAKE THE OTHER ROAD TO BUNNYBURY


"Well!" exclaimed Billina, eyeing the signs, "this looks as if we were
getting back to civilization again."

"I'm not sure about the civil'zation, dear," replied the little girl;
"but it looks as if we might get SOMEWHERE, and that's a big relief,
anyhow."

"Which path shall we take?" inquired the Yellow Hen.

Dorothy stared at the signs thoughtfully.

"Bunbury sounds like something to eat," she said.  "Let's go there."

"It's all the same to me," replied Billina.  She had picked up enough
bugs and insects from the moss as she went along to satisfy her own
hunger, but the hen knew Dorothy could not eat bugs; nor could Toto.

The path to Bunbury seemed little traveled, but it was distinct enough
and ran through the trees in a zigzag course until it finally led them
to an open space filled with the queerest houses Dorothy had ever seen.
They were all made of crackers laid out in tiny squares, and were of
many pretty and ornamental shapes, having balconies and porches with
posts of bread-sticks and roofs shingled with wafer-crackers.

There were walks of bread-crusts leading from house to house and
forming streets, and the place seemed to have many inhabitants.

When Dorothy, followed by Billina and Toto, entered the place, they
found people walking the streets or assembled in groups talking
together, or sitting upon the porches and balconies.

And what funny people they were!

Men, women and children were all made of buns and bread.  Some were
thin and others fat; some were white, some light brown and some very
dark of complexion.  A few of the buns, which seemed to form the more
important class of the people, were neatly frosted.  Some had raisins
for eyes and currant buttons on their clothes; others had eyes of
cloves and legs of stick cinnamon, and many wore hats and bonnets
frosted pink and green.

There was something of a commotion in Bunbury when the strangers
suddenly appeared among them.  Women caught up their children and
hurried into their houses, shutting the cracker doors carefully behind
them.  Some men ran so hastily that they tumbled over one another,
while others, more brave, assembled in a group and faced the intruders
defiantly.

Dorothy at once realized that she must act with caution in order not to
frighten these shy people, who were evidently unused to the presence of
strangers.  There was a delightful fragrant odor of fresh bread in the
town, and this made the little girl more hungry than ever.  She told
Toto and Billina to stay back while she slowly advanced toward the
group that stood silently awaiting her.

"You must 'scuse me for coming unexpected," she said, softly, "but I
really didn't know I was coming here until I arrived.  I was lost in
the woods, you know, and I'm as hungry as anything."

"Hungry!" they murmured, in a horrified chorus.

"Yes; I haven't had anything to eat since last night's supper," she
exclaimed.  "Are there any eatables in Bunbury?"

They looked at one another undecidedly, and then one portly bun man,
who seemed a person of consequence, stepped forward and said:

"Little girl, to be frank with you, we are all eatables.  Everything in
Bunbury is eatable to ravenous human creatures like you.  But it is to
escape being eaten and destroyed that we have secluded ourselves in
this out-of-the-way place, and there is neither right nor justice in
your coming here to feed upon us."

Dorothy looked at him longingly.

"You're bread, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes; bread and butter.  The butter is inside me, so it won't melt and
run.  I do the running myself."

At this joke all the others burst into a chorus of laughter, and
Dorothy thought they couldn't be much afraid if they could laugh like
that.

"Couldn't I eat something besides people?" she asked.  "Couldn't I eat
just one house, or a side-walk or something?  I wouldn't mind much what
it was, you know."

"This is not a public bakery, child," replied the man, sternly.  "It's
private property."

"I know Mr.--Mr.--"

"My name is C. Bunn, Esquire," said the man.  "'C' stands for Cinnamon,
and this place is called after my family, which is the most
aristocratic in the town."

"Oh, I don't know about that," objected another of the queer people.
"The Grahams and the Browns and Whites are all excellent families, and
there is none better of their kind.  I'm a Boston Brown, myself."

"I admit you are all desirable citizens," said Mr. Bunn rather stiffly;
"but the fact remains that our town is called Bunbury."

"'Scuse me," interrupted Dorothy; "but I'm getting hungrier every
minute.  Now, if you're polite and kind, as I'm sure you ought to be,
you'll let me eat SOMETHING.  There's so much to eat here that you will
never miss it."

Then a big, puffed-up man, of a delicate brown color, stepped forward
and said:

"I think it would be a shame to send this child away hungry, especially
as she agrees to eat whatever we can spare and not touch our people."

"So do I, Pop," replied a Roll who stood near.

"What, then, do you suggest, Mr. Over?" inquired Mr. Bunn.

"Why, I'll let her eat my back fence, if she wants to.  It's made of
waffles, and they're very crisp and nice."

"She may also eat my wheelbarrow," added a pleasant looking Muffin.
"It's made of nabiscos with a zuzu wheel."

"Very good; very good," remarked Mr. Bunn.  "That is certainly very
kind of you.  Go with Pop Over and Mr. Muffin, little girl, and they
will feed you."

"Thank you very much," said Dorothy, gratefully.  "May I bring my dog
Toto, and the Yellow Hen?  They're hungry, too."

"Will you make them behave?" asked the Muffin.

"Of course," promised Dorothy.

"Then come along," said Pop Over.

So Dorothy and Billina and Toto walked up the street and the people
seemed no longer to be at all afraid of them.  Mr. Muffin's house came
first, and as his wheelbarrow stood in the front yard the little girl
ate that first.  It didn't seem very fresh, but she was so hungry that
she was not particular.  Toto ate some, too, while Billina picked up
the crumbs.

While the strangers were engaged in eating, many of the people came and
stood in the street curiously watching them.  Dorothy noticed six
roguish looking brown children standing all in a row, and she asked:

"Who are you, little ones?"

"We're the Graham Gems," replied one; "and we're all twins."

"I wonder if your mother could spare one or two of you?" asked Billina,
who decided that they were fresh baked; but at this dangerous question
the six little gems ran away as fast as they could go.

"You musn't say such things, Billina," said Dorothy, reprovingly.  "Now
let's go into Pop Over's back yard and get the waffles."

"I sort of hate to let that fence go," remarked Mr. Over, nervously, as
they walked toward his house.  "The neighbors back of us are Soda
Biscuits, and I don't care to mix with them."

"But I'm hungry yet," declared the girl.  "That wheelbarrow wasn't very
big."

"I've got a shortcake piano, but none of my family can play on it," he
said, reflectively.  "Suppose you eat that."

"All right," said Dorothy; "I don't mind.  Anything to be
accommodating."

So Mr. Over led her into the house, where she ate the piano, which was
of an excellent flavor.

"Is there anything to drink here?" she asked.

"Yes; I've a milk pump and a water pump; which will you have?" he asked.

"I guess I'll try 'em both," said Dorothy.

So Mr. Over called to his wife, who brought into the yard a pail made
of some kind of baked dough, and Dorothy pumped the pail full of cool,
sweet milk and drank it eagerly.

The wife of Pop Over was several shades darker than her husband.

"Aren't you overdone?" the little girl asked her.

"No indeed," answered the woman.  "I'm neither overdone nor done over;
I'm just Mrs. Over, and I'm the President of the Bunbury Breakfast
Band."

Dorothy thanked them for their hospitality and went away.  At the gate
Mr. Cinnamon Bunn met her and said he would show her around the town.
"We have some very interesting inhabitants," he remarked, walking
stiffly beside her on his stick-cinnamon legs; "and all of us who are
in good health are well bred.  If you are no longer hungry we will call
upon a few of the most important citizens."

Toto and Billina followed behind them, behaving very well, and a little
way down the street they came to a handsome residence where Aunt Sally
Lunn lived.  The old lady was glad to meet the little girl and gave her
a slice of white bread and butter which had been used as a door-mat.
It was almost fresh and tasted better than anything Dorothy had eaten
in the town.

"Where do you get the butter?" she inquired.

"We dig it out of the ground, which, as you may have observed, is all
flour and meal," replied Mr. Bunn.  "There is a butter mine just at the
opposite side of the village.  The trees which you see here are all
doughleanders and doughderas, and in the season we get quite a crop of
dough-nuts off them."

"I should think the flour would blow around and get into your eyes,"
said Dorothy.

"No," said he; "we are bothered with cracker dust sometimes, but never
with flour."

Then he took her to see Johnny Cake, a cheerful old gentleman who lived
near by.

"I suppose you've heard of me," said old Johnny, with an air of pride.
"I'm a great favorite all over the world."

"Aren't you rather yellow?" asked Dorothy, looking at him critically.

"Maybe, child.  But don't think I'm bilious, for I was never in better
health in my life," replied the old gentleman.  "If anything ailed me,
I'd willingly acknowledge the corn."

"Johnny's a trifle stale," said Mr. Bunn, as they went away; "but he's
a good mixer and never gets cross-grained.  I will now take you to call
upon some of my own relatives."  They visited the Sugar Bunns, the
Currant Bunns and the Spanish Bunns, the latter having a decidedly
foreign appearance.  Then they saw the French Rolls, who were very
polite to them, and made a brief call upon the Parker H. Rolls, who
seemed a bit proud and overbearing.

"But they're not as stuck up as the Frosted Jumbles," declared Mr.
Bunn, "who are people I really can't abide.  I don't like to be
suspicious or talk scandal, but sometimes I think the Jumbles have too
much baking powder in them."

Just then a dreadful scream was heard, and Dorothy turned hastily
around to find a scene of great excitement a little way down the
street.  The people were crowding around Toto and throwing at him
everything they could find at hand.  They pelted the little dog with
hard-tack, crackers, and even articles of furniture which were hard
baked and heavy enough for missiles.

Toto howeled a little as the assortment of bake stuff struck him; but
he stood still, with head bowed and tail between his legs, until
Dorothy ran up and inquired what the matter was.

"Matter!" cried a rye loafer, indignantly, "why the horrid beast has
eaten three of our dear Crumpets, and is now devouring a Salt-rising
Biscuit!"

"Oh, Toto!  How could you?" exclaimed Dorothy, much distressed.

Toto's mouth was full of his salt-rising victim; so he only whined and
wagged his tail.  But Billina, who had flown to the top of a cracker
house to be in a safe place, called out:

"Don't blame him, Dorothy; the Crumpets dared him to do it."

"Yes, and you pecked out the eyes of a Raisin Bunn--one of our best
citizens!" shouted a bread pudding, shaking its fist at the Yellow Hen.

"What's that!  What's that?" wailed Mr. Cinnamon Bunn, who had now
joined them.  "Oh, what a misfortune--what a terrible misfortune!"

"See here," said Dorothy, determined to defend her pets, "I think we've
treated you all pretty well, seeing you're eatables an' reg'lar food
for us.  I've been kind to you and eaten your old wheelbarrows and
pianos and rubbish, an' not said a word.  But Toto and Billina can't be
'spected to go hungry when the town's full of good things they like to
eat, 'cause they can't understand your stingy ways as I do."

"You must leave here at once!" said Mr. Bunn, sternly.

"Suppose we won't go?" said Dorothy, who was now much provoked.

"Then," said he, "we will put you into the great ovens where we are
made, and bake you."

Dorothy gazed around and saw threatening looks upon the faces of all.
She had not noticed any ovens in the town, but they might be there,
nevertheless, for some of the inhabitants seemed very fresh.  So she
decided to go, and calling to Toto and Billina to follow her she
marched up the street with as much dignity as possible, considering
that she was followed by the hoots and cries of the buns and biscuits
and other bake stuff.



18.  How Ozma Looked into the Magic Picture

Princess Ozma was a very busy little ruler, for she looked carefully
after the comfort and welfare of her people and tried to make them
happy.  If any quarrels arose she decided them justly; if any one
needed counsel or advice she was ready and willing to listen to them.

For a day or two after Dorothy and her companions had started on their
trip, Ozma was occupied with the affairs of her kingdom.  Then she
began to think of some manner of occupation for Uncle Henry and Aunt Em
that would be light and easy and yet give the old people something to
do.

She soon decided to make Uncle Henry the Keeper of the Jewels, for some
one really was needed to count and look after the bins and barrels of
emeralds, diamonds, rubies and other precious stones that were in the
Royal Storehouses.  That would keep Uncle Henry busy enough, but it was
harder to find something for Aunt Em to do.  The palace was full of
servants, so there was no detail of housework that Aunt Em could look
after.

While Ozma sat in her pretty room engaged in thought she happened to
glance at her Magic Picture.

This was one of the most important treasures in all the Land of Oz.  It
was a large picture, set in a beautiful gold frame, and it hung in a
prominent place upon a wall of Ozma's private room.

Usually this picture seemed merely a country scene, but whenever Ozma
looked at it and wished to know what any of her friends or
acquaintances were doing, the magic of this wonderful picture was
straightway disclosed.  For the country scene would gradually fade away
and in its place would appear the likeness of the person or persons
Ozma might wish to see, surrounded by the actual scenes in which they
were then placed.  In this way the Princess could view any part of the
world she wished, and watch the actions of any one in whom she was
interested.

Ozma had often seen Dorothy in her Kansas home by this means, and now,
having a little leisure, she expressed a desire to see her little
friend again.  It was while the travelers were at Fuddlecumjig, and
Ozma laughed merrily as she watched in the picture her friends trying
to match the pieces of Grandmother Gnit.

"They seem happy and are doubtless having a good time," the girl Ruler
said to herself; and then she began to think of the many adventures she
herself had encountered with Dorothy.

The image of her friends now faded from the Magic Picture and the old
landscape slowly reappeared.

Ozma was thinking of the time when with Dorothy and her army she
marched to the Nome King's underground cavern, beyond the Land of Ev,
and forced the old monarch to liberate his captives, who belonged to
the Royal Family of Ev.  That was the time when the Scarecrow nearly
frightened the Nome King into fits by throwing one of Billina's eggs at
him, and Dorothy had captured King Roquat's Magic Belt and brought it
away with her to the Land of Oz.

The pretty Princess smiled at the recollection of this adventure, and
then she wondered what had become of the Nome King since then.  Merely
because she was curious and had nothing better to do, Ozma glanced at
the Magic Picture and wished to see in it the King of the Nomes.

Roquat the Red went every day into his tunnel to see how the work was
getting along and to hurry his workmen as much as possible.  He was
there now, and Ozma saw him plainly in the Magic Picture.

She saw the underground tunnel, reaching far underneath the Deadly
Desert which separated the Land of Oz from the mountains beneath which
the Nome King had his extensive caverns.  She saw that the tunnel was
being made in the direction of the Emerald City, and knew at once it
was being dug so that the army of Nomes could march through it and
attack her own beautiful and peaceful country.

"I suppose King Roquat is planning revenge against us," she said,
musingly, "and thinks he can surprise us and make us his captives and
slaves.  How sad it is that any one can have such wicked thoughts!  But
I must not blame King Roquat too severely, for he is a Nome, and his
nature is not so gentle as my own."

Then she dismissed from her mind further thought of the tunnel, for
that time, and began to wonder if Aunt Em would not be happy as Royal
Mender of the Stockings of the Ruler of Oz.  Ozma wore few holes in her
stockings; still, they sometimes needed mending.  Aunt Em ought to be
able to do that very nicely.

Next day, the Princess watched the tunnel again in her Magic Picture,
and every day afterward she devoted a few minutes to inspecting the
work.  It was not especially interesting, but she felt that it was her
duty.

Slowly but surely the big, arched hole crept through the rocks
underneath the deadly desert, and day by day it drew nearer and nearer
to the Emerald City.



19.  How Bunnybury Welcomed the Strangers

Dorothy left Bunbury the same way she had entered it and when they were
in the forest again she said to Billina:

"I never thought that things good to eat could be so dis'gree'ble."

"Often I've eaten things that tasted good but were disagreeable
afterward," returned the Yellow Hen.  "I think, Dorothy, if eatables
are going to act badly, it's better before than after you eat them."

"P'raps you're right," said the little girl, with a sigh.  "But what
shall we do now?"

"Let us follow the path back to the signpost," suggested Billina.
"That will be better than getting lost again."

"Why, we're lost anyhow," declared Dorothy; "but I guess you're right
about going back to that signpost, Billina."

They returned along the path to the place where they had first found
it, and at once took "the other road" to Bunnybury.  This road was a
mere narrow strip, worn hard and smooth but not wide enough for
Dorothy's feet to tread.  Still, it was a guide, and the walking
through the forest was not at all difficult.

Before long they reached a high wall of solid white marble, and the
path came to an end at this wall.

At first Dorothy thought there was no opening at all in the marble, but
on looking closely she discovered a small square door about on a level
with her head, and underneath this closed door was a bell-push.  Near
the bell-push a sign was painted in neat letters upon the marble, and
the sign read:


NO ADMITTANCE

EXCEPT ON BUSINESS


This did not discourage Dorothy, however, and she rang the bell.

Pretty soon a bolt was cautiously withdrawn and the marble door swung
slowly open.  Then she saw it was not really a door, but a window, for
several brass bars were placed across it, being set fast in the marble
and so close together that the little girl's fingers might barely go
between them.  Back of the bars appeared the face of a white rabbit--a
very sober and sedate face--with an eye-glass held in his left eye and
attached to a cord in his button-hole.

"Well! what is it?" asked the rabbit, sharply.

"I'm Dorothy," said the girl, "and I'm lost, and--"

"State your business, please," interrupted the rabbit.

"My business," she replied, "is to find out where I am, and to--"

"No one is allowed in Bunnybury without an order or a letter of
introduction from either Ozma of Oz or Glinda the Good," announced the
rabbit; "so that settles the matter," and he started to close the
window.

"Wait a minute!" cried Dorothy.  "I've got a letter from Ozma."

"From the Ruler of Oz?" asked the rabbit, doubtingly.

"Of course.  Ozma's my best friend, you know; and I'm a Princess
myself," she announced, earnestly.

"Hum--ha!  Let me see your letter," returned the rabbit, as if he still
doubted her.

So she hunted in her pocket and found the letter Ozma had given her.
Then she handed it through the bars to the rabbit, who took it in his
paws and opened it.  He read it aloud in a pompous voice, as if to let
Dorothy and Billina see that he was educated and could read writing.
The letter was as follows:


"It will please me to have my subjects greet Princess Dorothy, the
bearer of this royal missive, with the same courtesy and consideration
they would extend to me."


"Ha--hum!  It is signed 'Ozma of Oz,'" continued the rabbit, "and is
sealed with the Great Seal of the Emerald City.  Well, well, well!  How
strange!  How remarkable!"

"What are you going to do about it?" inquired Dorothy, impatiently.

"We must obey the royal mandate," replied the rabbit.  "We are subjects
of Ozma of Oz, and we live in her country.  Also we are under the
protection of the great Sorceress Glinda the Good, who made us promise
to respect Ozma's commands."

"Then may I come in?" she asked.

"I'll open the door," said the rabbit.  He shut the window and
disappeared, but a moment afterward a big door in the wall opened and
admitted Dorothy to a small room, which seemed to be a part of the wall
and built into it.

Here stood the rabbit she had been talking with, and now that she could
see all of him, she gazed at the creature in surprise.  He was a good
sized white rabbit with pink eyes, much like all other white rabbits.
But the astonishing thing about him was the manner in which he was
dressed.  He wore a white satin jacket embroidered with gold, and
having diamond buttons.  His vest was rose-colored satin, with
tourmaline buttons.  His trousers were white, to correspond with the
jacket, and they were baggy at the knees--like those of a zouave--being
tied with knots of rose ribbons.  His shoes were of white plush with
diamond buckles, and his stockings were rose silk.

The richness and even magnificence of the rabbit's clothing made
Dorothy stare at the little creature wonderingly.  Toto and Billina had
followed her into the room and when he saw them the rabbit ran to a
table and sprang upon it nimbly.  Then he looked at the three through
his monocle and said:

"These companions, Princess, cannot enter Bunnybury with you."

"Why not?" asked Dorothy.

"In the first place they would frighten our people, who dislike dogs
above all things on earth; and, secondly, the letter of the Royal Ozma
does not mention them."

"But they're my friends," persisted Dorothy, "and go wherever I go."

"Not this time," said the rabbit, decidedly.  "You, yourself, Princess,
are a welcome visitor, since you come so highly recommended; but unless
you consent to leave the dog and the hen in this room I cannot permit
you to enter the town."

"Never mind us, Dorothy," said Billina.  "Go inside and see what the
place is like.  You can tell us about it afterward, and Toto and I will
rest comfortably here until you return."

This seemed the best thing to do, for Dorothy was curious to see how
the rabbit people lived and she was aware of the fact that her friends
might frighten the timid little creatures.  She had not forgotten how
Toto and Billina had misbehaved in Bunbury, and perhaps the rabbit was
wise to insist on their staying outside the town.

"Very well," she said, "I'll go in alone.  I s'pose you're the King of
this town, aren't you?"

"No," answered the rabbit, "I'm merely the Keeper of the Wicket, and a
person of little importance, although I try to do my duty.  I must now
inform you, Princess, that before you enter our town you must consent
to reduce."

"Reduce what?" asked Dorothy.

"Your size.  You must become the size of the rabbits, although you may
retain your own form."

"Wouldn't my clothes be too big for me?" she inquired.

"No; they will reduce when your body does."

"Can YOU make me smaller?" asked the girl.

"Easily," returned the rabbit.

"And will you make me big again, when I'm ready to go away?"

"I will," said he.

"All right, then; I'm willing," she announced.

The rabbit jumped from the table and ran--or rather hopped--to the
further wall, where he opened a door so tiny that even Toto could
scarcely have crawled through it.

"Follow me," he said.

Now, almost any other little girl would have declared that she could
not get through so small a door; but Dorothy had already encountered so
many fairy adventures that she believed nothing was impossible in the
Land of Oz.  So she quietly walked toward the door, and at every step
she grew smaller and smaller until, by the time the opening was
reached, she could pass through it with ease.  Indeed, as she stood
beside the rabbit, who sat upon his hind legs and used his paws as
hands, her head was just about as high as his own.

Then the Keeper of the Wicket passed through and she followed, after
which the door swung shut and locked itself with a sharp click.

Dorothy now found herself in a city so strange and beautiful that she
gave a gasp of surprise.  The high marble wall extended all around the
place and shut out all the rest of the world.  And here were marble
houses of curious forms, most of them resembling overturned kettles but
with delicate slender spires and minarets running far up into the sky.
The streets were paved with white marble and in front of each house was
a lawn of rich green clover.  Everything was as neat as wax, the green
and white contrasting prettily together.

But the rabbit people were, after all, the most amazing things Dorothy
saw.  The streets were full of them, and their costumes were so
splendid that the rich dress of the Keeper of the Wicket was
commonplace when compared with the others.  Silks and satins of
delicate hues seemed always used for material, and nearly every costume
sparkled with exquisite gems.

But the lady rabbits outshone the gentlemen rabbits in splendor, and
the cut of their gowns was really wonderful.  They wore bonnets, too,
with feathers and jewels in them, and some wheeled baby carriages in
which the girl could see wee bunnies.  Some were lying asleep while
others lay sucking their paws and looking around them with big pink
eyes.

As Dorothy was no bigger in size than the grown-up rabbits she had a
chance to observe them closely before they noticed her presence.  Then
they did not seem at all alarmed, although the little girl naturally
became the center of attraction and regarded her with great curiosity.

"Make way!" cried the Keeper of the Wicket, in a pompous voice; "make
way for Princess Dorothy, who comes from Ozma of Oz."

Hearing this announcement, the throng of rabbits gave place to them on
the walks, and as Dorothy passed along they all bowed their heads
respectfully.

Walking thus through several handsome streets they came to a square in
the center of the City.  In this square were some pretty trees and a
statue in bronze of Glinda the Good, while beyond it were the portals
of the Royal Palace--an extensive and imposing building of white marble
covered with a filigree of frosted gold.



20.  How Dorothy Lunched With a King

A line of rabbit soldiers was drawn up before the palace entrance, and
they wore green and gold uniforms with high shakos upon their heads and
held tiny spears in their hands.  The Captain had a sword and a white
plume in his shako.

"Salute!" called the Keeper of the Wicket.  "Salute Princess Dorothy,
who comes from Ozma of Oz!"

"Salute!" yelled the Captain, and all the soldiers promptly saluted.

They now entered the great hall of the palace, where they met a gaily
dressed attendant, from whom the Keeper of the Wicket inquired if the
King were at leisure.

"I think so," was the reply.  "I heard his Majesty blubbering and
wailing as usual only a few minutes ago.  If he doesn't stop acting
like a cry-baby I'm going to resign my position here and go to work."

"What's the matter with your King?" asked Dorothy, surprised to hear
the rabbit attendant speak so disrespectfully of his monarch.

"Oh, he doesn't want to be King, that's all; and he simply HAS to," was
the reply.

"Come!" said the Keeper of the Wicket, sternly; "lead us to his
Majesty; and do not air our troubles before strangers, I beg of you."

"Why, if this girl is going to see the King, he'll air his own
troubles," returned the attendant.

"That is his royal privilege," declared the Keeper.

So the attendant led them into a room all draped with cloth-of-gold and
furnished with satin-covered gold furniture.  There was a throne in
this room, set on a dais and having a big, cushioned seat, and on this
seat reclined the Rabbit King.  He was lying on his back, with his paws
in the air, and whining very like a puppy-dog.

"Your Majesty! your Majesty!  Get up.  Here's a visitor," called out
the attendant.

The King rolled over and looked at Dorothy with one watery pink eye.
Then he sat up and wiped his eyes carefully with a silk handkerchief
and put on his jeweled crown, which had fallen off.

"Excuse my grief, fair stranger," he said, in a sad voice.  "You behold
in me the most miserable monarch in all the world.  What time is it,
Blinkem?"

"One o'clock, your Majesty," replied the attendant to whom the question
was addressed.

"Serve luncheon at once!" commanded the King.  "Luncheon for
two--that's for my visitor and me--and see that the human has some sort
of food she's accustomed to."

"Yes, your Majesty," answered the attendant, and went away.

"Tie my shoe, Bristle," said the King to the Keeper of the Wicket.  "Ah
me! how unhappy I am!"

"What seems to be worrying your Majesty?" asked Dorothy.

"Why, it's this king business, of course," he returned, while the
Keeper tied his shoe.  "I didn't want to be King of Bunnybury at all,
and the rabbits all knew it.  So they elected me--to save themselves
from such a dreadful fate, I suppose--and here I am, shut up in a
palace, when I might be free and happy."

"Seems to me," said Dorothy, "it's a great thing to be a King."

"Were you ever a King?" inquired the monarch.

"No," she answered, laughing.

"Then you know nothing about it," he said.  "I haven't inquired who you
are, but it doesn't matter.  While we're at luncheon, I'll tell you all
my troubles.  They're a great deal more interesting than anything you
can say about yourself."

"Perhaps they are, to you," replied Dorothy.

"Luncheon is served!" cried Blinkem, throwing open the door, and in
came a dozen rabbits in livery, all bearing trays which they placed
upon the table, where they arranged the dishes in an orderly manner.

"Now clear out--all of you!" exclaimed the King.  "Bristle, you may
wait outside, in case I want you."

When they had gone and the King was alone with Dorothy he came down
from his throne, tossed his crown into a corner and kicked his ermine
robe under the table.

"Sit down," he said, "and try to be happy.  It's useless for me to try,
because I'm always wretched and miserable.  But I'm hungry, and I hope
you are."

"I am," said Dorothy.  "I've only eaten a wheelbarrow and a piano
to-day--oh, yes! and a slice of bread and butter that used to be a
door-mat."

"That sounds like a square meal," remarked the King, seating himself
opposite her; "but perhaps it wasn't a square piano.  Eh?"

Dorothy laughed.

"You don't seem so very unhappy now," she said.

"But I am," protested the King, fresh tears gathering in his eyes.
"Even my jokes are miserable.  I'm wretched, woeful, afflicted,
distressed and dismal as an individual can be.  Are you not sorry for
me?"

"No," answered Dorothy, honestly, "I can't say I am.  Seems to me that
for a rabbit you're right in clover.  This is the prettiest little city
I ever saw."

"Oh, the city is good enough," he admitted.  "Glinda, the Good
Sorceress, made it for us because she was fond of rabbits.  I don't
mind the City so much, although I wouldn't live here if I had my
choice.  It is being King that has absolutely ruined my happiness."

"Why wouldn't you live here by choice?" she asked.

"Because it is all unnatural, my dear.  Rabbits are out of place in
such luxury.  When I was young I lived in a burrow in the forest.  I
was surrounded by enemies and often had to run for my life.  It was
hard getting enough to eat, at times, and when I found a bunch of
clover I had to listen and look for danger while I ate it.  Wolves
prowled around the hole in which I lived and sometimes I didn't dare
stir out for days at a time.  Oh, how happy and contented I was then!
I was a real rabbit, as nature made me--wild and free!--and I even
enjoyed listening to the startled throbbing of my own heart!"

"I've often thought," said Dorothy, who was busily eating, "that it
would be fun to be a rabbit."

"It IS fun--when you're the genuine article," agreed his Majesty.  "But
look at me now!  I live in a marble palace instead of a hole in the
ground.  I have all I want to eat, without the joy of hunting for it.
Every day I must dress in fine clothes and wear that horrible crown
till it makes my head ache.  Rabbits come to me with all sorts of
troubles, when my own troubles are the only ones I care about.  When I
walk out I can't hop and run; I must strut on my rear legs and wear an
ermine robe!  And the soldiers salute me and the band plays and the
other rabbits laugh and clap their paws and cry out: 'Hail to the
King!'  Now let me ask you, as a friend and a young lady of good
judgment: isn't all this pomp and foolishness enough to make a decent
rabbit miserable?"

"Once," said Dorothy, reflectively, "men were wild and unclothed and
lived in caves and hunted for food as wild beasts do.  But they got
civ'lized, in time, and now they'd hate to go back to the old days."

"That is an entirely different case," replied the King.  "None of you
Humans were civilized in one lifetime.  It came to you by degrees.  But
I have known the forest and the free life, and that is why I resent
being civilized all at once, against my will, and being made a King
with a crown and an ermine robe.  Pah!"

"If you don't like it, why don't you resign?" she asked.

"Impossible!" wailed the Rabbit, wiping his eyes again with his
handkerchief.  "There's a beastly law in this town that forbids it.
When one is elected a King, there's no getting out of it."

"Who made the laws?" inquired Dorothy.

"The same Sorceress who made the town--Glinda the Good.  She built the
wall, and fixed up the City, and gave us several valuable enchantments,
and made the laws.  Then she invited all the pink-eyed white rabbits of
the forest to come here, after which she left us to our fate."

"What made you 'cept the invitation, and come here?" asked the child.

"I didn't know how dreadful city life was, and I'd no idea I would be
elected King," said he, sobbing bitterly.  "And--and--now I'm It--with
a capital I--and can't escape!"

"I know Glinda," remarked Dorothy, eating for dessert a dish of
charlotte russe, "and when I see her again, I'll ask her to put another
King in your place."

"Will you?  Will you, indeed?" asked the King, joyfully.

"I will if you want me to," she replied.

"Hurroo--huray!" shouted the King; and then he jumped up from the table
and danced wildly about the room, waving his napkin like a flag and
laughing with glee.

After a time he managed to control his delight and returned to the
table.

"When are you likely to see Glinda?" he inquired.

"Oh, p'raps in a few days," said Dorothy.

"And you won't forget to ask her?"

"Of course not."

"Princess," said the Rabbit King, earnestly, "you have relieved me of a
great unhappiness, and I am very grateful.  Therefore I propose to
entertain you, since you are my guest and I am the King, as a slight
mark of my appreciation.  Come with me to my reception hall."

He then summoned Bristle and said to him: "Assemble all the nobility in
the great reception hall, and also tell Blinkem that I want him
immediately."

The Keeper of the Wicket bowed and hurried away, and his Majesty turned
to Dorothy and continued: "We'll have time for a walk in the gardens
before the people get here."

The gardens were back of the palace and were filled with beautiful
flowers and fragrant shrubs, with many shade and fruit trees and
marble-paved walks running in every direction.  As they entered this
place Blinkem came running to the King, who gave him several orders in
a low voice.  Then his Majesty rejoined Dorothy and led her through the
gardens, which she admired very much.

"What lovely clothes your Majesty wears!" she said, glancing at the
rich blue satin costume, embroidered, with pearls in which the King was
dressed.

"Yes," he returned, with an air of pride, "this is one of my favorite
suits; but I have a good many that are even more elaborate.  We have
excellent tailors in Bunnybury, and Glinda supplies all the material.
By the way, you might ask the Sorceress, when you see her, to permit me
to keep my wardrobe."

"But if you go back to the forest you will not need clothes," she said.

"N--o!" he faltered; "that may be so.  But I've dressed up so long that
I'm used to it, and I don't imagine I'd care to run around naked again.
So perhaps the Good Glinda will let me keep the costumes."

"I'll ask her," agreed Dorothy.

Then they left the gardens and went into a fine, big reception hall,
where rich rugs were spread upon the tiled floors and the furniture was
exquisitely carved and studded with jewels.  The King's chair was an
especially pretty piece of furniture, being in the shape of a silver
lily with one leaf bent over to form the seat.  The silver was
everywhere thickly encrusted with diamonds and the seat was upholstered
in white satin.

"Oh, what a splendid chair!" cried Dorothy, clasping her hands
admiringly.

"Isn't it?" answered the King, proudly.  "It is my favorite seat, and I
think it especially becoming to my complexion.  While I think of it, I
wish you'd ask Glinda to let me keep this lily chair when I go away."

"It wouldn't look very well in a hole in the ground, would it?" she
suggested.

"Maybe not; but I'm used to sitting in it and I'd like to take it with
me," he answered.  "But here come the ladies and gentlemen of the
court; so please sit beside me and be presented."



21.  How the King Changed His Mind

Just then a rabbit band of nearly fifty pieces marched in, playing upon
golden instruments and dressed in neat uniforms.  Following the band
came the nobility of Bunnybury, all richly dressed and hopping along on
their rear legs.  Both the ladies and the gentlemen wore white gloves
upon their paws, with their rings on the outside of the gloves, as this
seemed to be the fashion here.  Some of the lady rabbits carried
lorgnettes, while many of the gentlemen rabbits wore monocles in their
left eyes.

The courtiers and their ladies paraded past the King, who introduced
Princess Dorothy to each couple in a very graceful manner.  Then the
company seated themselves in chairs and on sofas and looked expectantly
at their monarch.

"It is our royal duty, as well as our royal pleasure," he said, "to
provide fitting entertainment for our distinguished guest.  We will now
present the Royal Band of Whiskered Friskers."

As he spoke the musicians, who had arranged themselves in a corner,
struck up a dance melody while into the room pranced the Whiskered
Friskers.  They were eight pretty rabbits dressed only in gauzy purple
skirts fastened around their waists with diamond bands.  Their whiskers
were colored a rich purple, but otherwise they were pure white.

After bowing before the King and Dorothy the Friskers began their
pranks, and these were so comical that Dorothy laughed with real
enjoyment.  They not only danced together, whirling and gyrating around
the room, but they leaped over one another, stood upon their heads and
hopped and skipped here and there so nimbly that it was hard work to
keep track of them.  Finally, they all made double somersaults and
turned handsprings out of the room.

The nobility enthusiastically applauded, and Dorothy applauded with
them.

"They're fine!" she said to the King.

"Yes, the Whiskered Friskers are really very clever," he replied.  "I
shall hate to part with them when I go away, for they have often amused
me when I was very miserable.  I wonder if you would ask Glinda--"

"No, it wouldn't do at all," declared Dorothy, positively.  "There
wouldn't be room in your hole in the ground for so many rabbits,
'spec'ly when you get the lily chair and your clothes there.  Don't
think of such a thing, your Majesty."

The King sighed.  Then he stood up and announced to the company:

"We will now hold a military drill by my picked Bodyguard of Royal
Pikemen."

Now the band played a march and a company of rabbit soldiers came in.
They wore green and gold uniforms and marched very stiffly but in
perfect time.  Their spears, or pikes, had slender shafts of polished
silver with golden heads, and during the drill they handled these
weapons with wonderful dexterity.

"I should think you'd feel pretty safe with such a fine Bodyguard,"
remarked Dorothy.

"I do," said the King.  "They protect me from every harm.  I suppose
Glinda wouldn't--"

"No," interrupted the girl; "I'm sure she wouldn't.  It's the King's
own Bodyguard, and when you are no longer King you can't have 'em."

The King did not reply, but he looked rather sorrowful for a time.

When the soldiers had marched out he said to the company:

"The Royal Jugglers will now appear."

Dorothy had seen many jugglers in her lifetime, but never any so
interesting as these.  There were six of them, dressed in black satin
embroidered with queer symbols in silver--a costume which contrasted
strongly with their snow-white fur.

First, they pushed in a big red ball and three of the rabbit jugglers
stood upon its top and made it roll.  Then two of them caught up a
third and tossed him into the air, all vanishing, until only the two
were left.  Then one of these tossed the other upward and remained
alone of all his fellows.  This last juggler now touched the red ball,
which fell apart, being hollow, and the five rabbits who had
disappeared in the air scrambled out of the hollow ball.

Next they all clung together and rolled swiftly upon the floor.  When
they came to a stop only one fat rabbit juggler was seen, the others
seeming to be inside him.  This one leaped lightly into the air and
when he came down he exploded and separated into the original six.
Then four of them rolled themselves into round balls and the other two
tossed them around and played ball with them.

These were but a few of the tricks the rabbit jugglers performed, and
they were so skillful that all the nobility and even the King applauded
as loudly as did Dorothy.

"I suppose there are no rabbit jugglers in all the world to compare
with these," remarked the King.  "And since I may not have the Whiskers
Friskers or my Bodyguard, you might ask Glinda to let me take away just
two or three of these jugglers.  Will you?"

"I'll ask her," replied Dorothy, doubtfully.

"Thank you," said the King; "thank you very much.  And now you shall
listen to the Winsome Waggish Warblers, who have often cheered me in my
moments of anguish."

The Winsome Waggish Warblers proved to be a quartette of rabbit
singers, two gentlemen and two lady rabbits.  The gentlemen Warblers
wore full-dress swallow-tailed suits of white satin, with pearls for
buttons, while the lady Warblers were gowned in white satin dresses
with long trails.

The first song they sang began in this way:


  "When a rabbit gets a habit
    Of living in a city
  And wearing clothes and furbelows
    And jewels rare and pretty,
  He scorns the Bun who has to run
    And burrow in the ground
  And pities those whose watchful foes
    Are man and gun and hound."


Dorothy looked at the King when she heard this song and noticed that he
seemed disturbed and ill at ease.

"I don't like that song," he said to the Warblers.  "Give us something
jolly and rollicking."

So they sang to a joyous, tinkling melody as follows:


      "Bunnies gay
      Delight to play
  In their fairy town secure;
      Ev'ry frisker
      Flirts his whisker
  At a pink-eyed girl demure.
      Ev'ry maid
      In silk arrayed
  At her partner shyly glances,
      Paws are grasped,
      Waists are clasped
  As they whirl in giddy dances.
      Then together
      Through the heather
  'Neath the moonlight soft they stroll;
      Each is very
      Blithe and merry,
  Gamboling with laughter droll.
      Life is fun
      To ev'ry one
  Guarded by our magic charm
      For to dangers
      We are strangers,
  Safe from any thought of harm."


"You see," said Dorothy to the King, when the song ended, "the rabbits
all seem to like Bunnybury except you.  And I guess you're the only one
that ever has cried or was unhappy and wanted to get back to your muddy
hole in the ground."

His Majesty seemed thoughtful, and while the servants passed around
glasses of nectar and plates of frosted cakes their King was silent and
a bit nervous.

When the refreshments had been enjoyed by all and the servants had
retired Dorothy said:

"I must go now, for it's getting late and I'm lost.  I've got to find
the Wizard and Aunt Em and Uncle Henry and all the rest sometime before
night comes, if I poss'bly can."

"Won't you stay with us?" asked the King.  "You will be very welcome."

"No, thank you," she replied.  "I must get back to my friends.  And I
want to see Glinda just as soon as I can, you know."

So the King dismissed his court and said he would himself walk with
Dorothy to the gate.  He did not weep nor groan any more, but his long
face was quite solemn and his big ears hung dejectedly on each side of
it.  He still wore his crown and his ermine and walked with a handsome
gold-headed cane.

When they arrived at the room in the wall the little girl found Toto
and Billina waiting for her very patiently.  They had been liberally
fed by some of the attendants and were in no hurry to leave such
comfortable quarters.

The Keeper of the Wicket was by this time back in his old place, but he
kept a safe distance from Toto.  Dorothy bade good bye to the King as
they stood just inside the wall.

"You've been good to me," she said, "and I thank you ever so much.  As
soon as poss'ble I'll see Glinda and ask her to put another King in
your place and send you back into the wild forest.  And I'll ask her to
let you keep some of your clothes and the lily chair and one or two
jugglers to amuse you.  I'm sure she will do it, 'cause she's so kind
she doesn't like any one to be unhappy."

"Ahem!" said the King, looking rather downcast.  "I don't like to
trouble you with my misery; so you needn't see Glinda."

"Oh, yes I will," she replied.  "It won't be any trouble at all."

"But, my dear," continued the King, in an embarrassed way, "I've been
thinking the subject over carefully, and I find there are a lot of
pleasant things here in Bunnybury that I would miss if I went away.  So
perhaps I'd better stay."

Dorothy laughed.  Then she looked grave.

"It won't do for you to be a King and a cry-baby at the same time," she
said.  "You've been making all the other rabbits unhappy and
discontented with your howls about being so miserable.  So I guess it's
better to have another King."

"Oh, no indeed!" exclaimed the King, earnestly.  "If you won't say
anything to Glinda I'll promise to be merry and gay all the time, and
never cry or wail again."

"Honor bright?" she asked.

"On the royal word of a King I promise it!" he answered.

"All right," said Dorothy.  "You'd be a reg'lar lunatic to want to
leave Bunnybury for a wild life in the forest, and I'm sure any rabbit
outside the city would be glad to take your place."

"Forget it, my dear; forget all my foolishness," pleaded the King,
earnestly.  "Hereafter I'll try to enjoy myself and do my duty by my
subjects."

So then she left him and entered through the little door into the room
in the wall, where she grew gradually bigger and bigger until she had
resumed her natural size.

The Keeper of the Wicket let them out into the forest and told Dorothy
that she had been of great service to Bunnybury because she had brought
their dismal King to a realization of the pleasure of ruling so
beautiful a city.

"I shall start a petition to have your statue erected beside Glinda's
in the public square," said the Keeper.  "I hope you will come again,
some day, and see it."

"Perhaps I shall," she replied.

Then, followed by Toto and Billina, she walked away from the high
marble wall and started back along the narrow path toward the sign-post.



22.  How the Wizard Found Dorothy

When they came to the signpost, there, to their joy, were the tents of
the Wizard pitched beside the path and the kettle bubbling merrily over
the fire.  The Shaggy Man and Omby Amby were gathering firewood while
Uncle Henry and Aunt Em sat in their camp chairs talking with the
Wizard.

They all ran forward to greet Dorothy, as she approached, and Aunt Em
exclaimed: "Goodness gracious, child!  Where have you been?"

"You've played hookey the whole day," added the Shaggy Man,
reproachfully.

"Well, you see, I've been lost," explained the little girl, "and I've
tried awful hard to find the way back to you, but just couldn't do it."

"Did you wander in the forest all day?" asked Uncle Henry.

"You must be a'most starved!" said Aunt Em.

"No," said Dorothy, "I'm not hungry.  I had a wheelbarrow and a piano
for breakfast, and lunched with a King."

"Ah!" exclaimed the Wizard, nodding with a bright smile.  "So you've
been having adventures again."

"She's stark crazy!" cried Aunt Em.  "Whoever heard of eating a
wheelbarrow?"

"It wasn't very big," said Dorothy; "and it had a zuzu wheel."

"And I ate the crumbs," said Billina, soberly.

"Sit down and tell us about it," begged the Wizard.  "We've hunted for
you all day, and at last I noticed your footsteps in this path--and the
tracks of Billina.  We found the path by accident, and seeing it only
led to two places I decided you were at either one or the other of
those places.  So we made camp and waited for you to return.  And now,
Dorothy, tell us where you have been--to Bunbury or to Bunnybury?"

"Why, I've been to both," she replied; "but first I went to Utensia,
which isn't on any path at all."

She then sat down and related the day's adventures, and you may be sure
Aunt Em and Uncle Henry were much astonished at the story.

"But after seeing the Cuttenclips and the Fuddles," remarked her uncle,
"we ought not to wonder at anything in this strange country."

"Seems like the only common and ordinary folks here are ourselves,"
rejoined Aunt Em, diffidently.

"Now that we're together again, and one reunited party," observed the
Shaggy Man, "what are we to do next?"

"Have some supper and a night's rest," answered the Wizard promptly,
"and then proceed upon our journey."

"Where to?" asked the Captain General.

"We haven't visited the Rigmaroles or the Flutterbudgets yet," said
Dorothy.  "I'd like to see them--wouldn't you?"

"They don't sound very interesting," objected Aunt Em.  "But perhaps
they are."

"And then," continued the little Wizard, "we will call upon the Tin
Woodman and Jack Pumpkinhead and our old friend the Scarecrow, on our
way home."

"That will be nice!" cried Dorothy, eagerly.

"Can't say THEY sound very interesting, either," remarked Aunt Em.

"Why, they're the best friends I have!" asserted the little girl, "and
you're sure to like them, Aunt Em, 'cause EVER'body likes them."

By this time twilight was approaching, so they ate the fine supper
which the Wizard magically produced from the kettle and then went to
bed in the cozy tents.

They were all up bright and early next morning, but Dorothy didn't
venture to wander from the camp again for fear of more accidents.

"Do you know where there's a road?" she asked the little man.

"No, my dear," replied the Wizard; "but I'll find one."

After breakfast he waved his hand toward the tents and they became
handkerchiefs again, which were at once returned to the pockets of
their owners.  Then they all climbed into the red wagon and the
Sawhorse inquired:

"Which way?"

"Never mind which way," replied the Wizard.  "Just go as you please and
you're sure to be right.  I've enchanted the wheels of the wagon, and
they will roll in the right direction, never fear."

As the Sawhorse started away through the trees Dorothy said:

"If we had one of those new-fashioned airships we could float away over
the top of the forest, and look down and find just the places we want."

"Airship?  Pah!" retorted the little man, scornfully.  "I hate those
things, Dorothy, although they are nothing new to either you or me.  I
was a balloonist for many years, and once my balloon carried me to the
Land of Oz, and once to the Vegetable Kingdom.  And once Ozma had a
Gump that flew all over this kingdom and had sense enough to go where
it was told to--which airships won't do.  The house which the cyclone
brought to Oz all the way from Kansas, with you and Toto in it--was a
real airship at the time; so you see we've got plenty of experience
flying with the birds."

"Airships are not so bad, after all," declared Dorothy.  "Some day
they'll fly all over the world, and perhaps bring people even to the
Land of Oz."

"I must speak to Ozma about that," said the Wizard, with a slight
frown.  "It wouldn't do at all, you know, for the Emerald City to
become a way-station on an airship line."

"No," said Dorothy, "I don't s'pose it would.  But what can we do to
prevent it?"

"I'm working out a magic recipe to fuddle men's brains, so they'll
never make an airship that will go where they want it to go," the
Wizard confided to her.  "That won't keep the things from flying, now
and then, but it'll keep them from flying to the Land of Oz."

Just then the Sawhorse drew the wagon out of the forest and a beautiful
landscape lay spread before the travelers' eyes.  Moreover, right
before them was a good road that wound away through the hills and
valleys.

"Now," said the Wizard, with evident delight, "we are on the right
track again, and there is nothing more to worry about."

"It's a foolish thing to take chances in a strange country," observed
the Shaggy Man.  "Had we kept to the roads we never would have been
lost.  Roads always lead to some place, else they wouldn't be roads."

"This road," added the Wizard, "leads to Rigmarole Town.  I'm sure of
that because I enchanted the wagon wheels."

Sure enough, after riding along the road for an hour or two they
entered a pretty valley where a village was nestled among the hills.
The houses were Munchkin shaped, for they were all domes, with windows
wider than they were high, and pretty balconies over the front doors.

Aunt Em was greatly relieved to find this town "neither paper nor
patch-work," and the only surprising thing about it was that it was so
far distant from all other towns.

As the Sawhorse drew the wagon into the main street the travelers
noticed that the place was filled with people, standing in groups and
seeming to be engaged in earnest conversation.  So occupied with
themselves were the inhabitants that they scarcely noticed the
strangers at all.  So the Wizard stopped a boy and asked:

"Is this Rigmarole Town?"

"Sir," replied the boy, "if you have traveled very much you will have
noticed that every town differs from every other town in one way or
another and so by observing the methods of the people and the way they
live as well as the style of their dwelling places it ought not to be a
difficult thing to make up your mind without the trouble of asking
questions whether the town bears the appearance of the one you intended
to visit or whether perhaps having taken a different road from the one
you should have taken you have made an error in your way and arrived at
some point where--"

"Land sakes!" cried Aunt Em, impatiently; "what's all this rigmarole
about?"

"That's it!" said the Wizard, laughing merrily.  "It's a rigmarole
because the boy is a Rigmarole and we've come to Rigmarole Town."

"Do they all talk like that?" asked Dorothy, wonderingly.

"He might have said 'yes' or 'no' and settled the question," observed
Uncle Henry.

"Not here," said Omby Amby.  "I don't believe the Rigmaroles know what
'yes' or 'no' means."

While the boy had been talking several other people had approached the
wagon and listened intently to his speech.  Then they began talking to
one another in long, deliberate speeches, where many words were used
but little was said.  But when the strangers criticized them so frankly
one of the women, who had no one else to talk to, began an address to
them, saying:

"It is the easiest thing in the world for a person to say 'yes' or 'no'
when a question that is asked for the purpose of gaining information or
satisfying the curiosity of the one who has given expression to the
inquiry has attracted the attention of an individual who may be
competent either from personal experience or the experience of others
to answer it with more or less correctness or at least an attempt to
satisfy the desire for information on the part of the one who has made
the inquiry by--"

"Dear me!" exclaimed Dorothy, interrupting the speech.  "I've lost all
track of what you are saying."

"Don't let her begin over again, for goodness sake!" cried Aunt Em.

But the woman did not begin again.  She did not even stop talking, but
went right on as she had begun, the words flowing from her mouth in a
stream.

"I'm quite sure that if we waited long enough and listened carefully,
some of these people might be able to tell us something, in time," said
the Wizard.

"Let's don't wait," returned Dorothy.  "I've heard of the Rigmaroles,
and wondered what they were like; but now I know, and I'm ready to move
on."

"So am I," declared Uncle Henry; "we're wasting time here."

"Why, we're all ready to go," said the Shaggy Man, putting his fingers
to his ears to shut out the monotonous babble of those around the wagon.

So the Wizard spoke to the Sawhorse, who trotted nimbly through the
village and soon gained the open country on the other side of it.
Dorothy looked back, as they rode away, and noticed that the woman had
not yet finished her speech but was talking as glibly as ever, although
no one was near to hear her.

"If those people wrote books," Omby Amby remarked with a smile, "it
would take a whole library to say the cow jumped over the moon."

"Perhaps some of 'em do write books," asserted the little Wizard.
"I've read a few rigmaroles that might have come from this very town."

"Some of the college lecturers and ministers are certainly related to
these people," observed the Shaggy Man; "and it seems to me the Land of
Oz is a little ahead of the United States in some of its laws.  For
here, if one can't talk clearly, and straight to the point, they send
him to Rigmarole Town; while Uncle Sam lets him roam around wild and
free, to torture innocent people."

Dorothy was thoughtful.  The Rigmaroles had made a strong impression
upon her.  She decided that whenever she spoke, after this, she would
use only enough words to express what she wanted to say.



23.  How They Encountered the Flutterbudgets

They were soon among the pretty hills and valleys again, and the
Sawhorse sped up hill and down at a fast and easy pace, the roads being
hard and smooth.  Mile after mile was speedily covered, and before the
ride had grown at all tiresome they sighted another village.  The place
seemed even larger than Rigmarole Town, but was not so attractive in
appearance.

"This must be Flutterbudget Center," declared the Wizard.  "You see,
it's no trouble at all to find places if you keep to the right road."

"What are the Flutterbudgets like?" inquired Dorothy.

"I do not know, my dear.  But Ozma has given them a town all their own,
and I've heard that whenever one of the people becomes a Flutterbudget
he is sent to this place to live."

"That is true," Omby Amby added; "Flutterbudget Center and Rigmarole
Town are called 'the Defensive Settlements of Oz.'"

The village they now approached was not built in a valley, but on top
of a hill, and the road they followed wound around the hill, like a
corkscrew, ascending the hill easily until it came to the town.

"Look out!" screamed a voice.  "Look out, or you'll run over my child!"

They gazed around and saw a woman standing upon the sidewalk nervously
wringing her hands as she gazed at them appealingly.

"Where is your child?" asked the Sawhorse.

"In the house," said the woman, bursting into tears; "but if it should
happen to be in the road, and you ran over it, those great wheels would
crush my darling to jelly.  Oh dear! oh dear!  Think of my darling
child being crushed into jelly by those great wheels!"

"Gid-dap!" said the Wizard sharply, and the Sawhorse started on.

They had not gone far before a man ran out of a house shouting wildly,
"Help!  Help!"

The Sawhorse stopped short and the Wizard and Uncle Henry and the
Shaggy Man and Omby Amby jumped out of the wagon and ran to the poor
man's assistance.  Dorothy followed them as quickly as she could.

"What's the matter?" asked the Wizard.

"Help! help!" screamed the man; "my wife has cut her finger off and
she's bleeding to death!"

Then he turned and rushed back to the house, and all the party went
with him.  They found a woman in the front dooryard moaning and
groaning as if in great pain.

"Be brave, madam!" said the Wizard, consolingly.  "You won't die just
because you have cut off a finger, you may be sure."

"But I haven't cut off a finger!" she sobbed.

"Then what HAS happened?" asked Dorothy.

"I--I pricked my finger with a needle while I was sewing, and--and the
blood came!" she replied.  "And now I'll have blood-poisoning, and the
doctors will cut off my finger, and that will give me a fever and I
shall die!"

"Pshaw!" said Dorothy; "I've pricked my finger many a time, and nothing
happened."

"Really?" asked the woman, brightening and wiping her eyes upon her
apron.

"Why, it's nothing at all," declared the girl.  "You're more scared
than hurt."

"Ah, that's because she's a Flutterbudget," said the Wizard, nodding
wisely.  "I think I know now what these people are like."

"So do I," announced Dorothy.

"Oh, boo-hoo-hoo!" sobbed the woman, giving way to a fresh burst of
grief.

"What's wrong now?" asked the Shaggy Man.

"Oh, suppose I had pricked my foot!" she wailed.  "Then the doctors
would have cut my foot off, and I'd be lamed for life!"

"Surely, ma'am," replied the Wizard, "and if you'd pricked your nose
they might cut your head off.  But you see you didn't."

"But I might have!" she exclaimed, and began to cry again.  So they
left her and drove away in their wagon.  And her husband came out and
began calling "Help!" as he had before; but no one seemed to pay any
attention to him.

As the travelers turned into another street they found a man walking
excitedly up and down the pavement.  He appeared to be in a very
nervous condition and the Wizard stopped him to ask:

"Is anything wrong, sir?"

"Everything is wrong," answered the man, dismally.  "I can't sleep."

"Why not?" inquired Omby Amby.

"If I go to sleep I'll have to shut my eyes," he explained; "and if I
shut my eyes they may grow together, and then I'd be blind for life!"

"Did you ever hear of any one's eyes growing together?" asked Dorothy.

"No," said the man, "I never did.  But it would be a dreadful thing,
wouldn't it?  And the thought of it makes me so nervous I'm afraid to
go to sleep."

"There's no help for this case," declared the Wizard; and they went on.

At the next street corner a woman rushed up to them crying:

"Save my baby!  Oh, good, kind people, save my baby!"

"Is it in danger?" asked Dorothy, noticing that the child was clasped
in her arms and seemed sleeping peacefully.

"Yes, indeed," said the woman, nervously.  "If I should go into the
house and throw my child out of the window, it would roll way down to
the bottom of the hill; and then if there were a lot of tigers and
bears down there, they would tear my darling babe to pieces and eat it
up!"

"Are there any tigers and bears in this neighborhood?" the Wizard asked.

"I've never heard of any," admitted the woman, "but if there were--"

"Have you any idea of throwing your baby out of the window?" questioned
the little man.

"None at all," she said; "but if--"

"All your troubles are due to those 'ifs'," declared the Wizard.  "If
you were not a Flutterbudget you wouldn't worry."

"There's another 'if'," replied the woman.  "Are you a Flutterbudget,
too?"

"I will be, if I stay here long," exclaimed the Wizard, nervously.

"Another 'if'!" cried the woman.

But the Wizard did not stop to argue with her.  He made the Sawhorse
canter all the way down the hill, and only breathed easily when they
were miles away from the village.

After they had ridden in silence for a while Dorothy turned to the
little man and asked:

"Do 'ifs' really make Flutterbudgets?"

"I think the 'ifs' help," he answered seriously.  "Foolish fears, and
worries over nothing, with a mixture of nerves and ifs, will soon make
a Flutterbudget of any one."

Then there was another long silence, for all the travelers were
thinking over this statement, and nearly all decided it must be true.

The country they were now passing through was everywhere tinted purple,
the prevailing color of the Gillikin Country; but as the Sawhorse
ascended a hill they found that upon the other side everything was of a
rich yellow hue.

"Aha!" cried the Captain General; "here is the Country of the Winkies.
We are just crossing the boundary line."

"Then we may be able to lunch with the Tin Woodman," announced the
Wizard, joyfully.

"Must we lunch on tin?" asked Aunt Em.

"Oh, no;" replied Dorothy.  "Nick Chopper knows how to feed meat
people, and he will give us plenty of good things to eat, never fear.
I've been to his castle before."

"Is Nick Chopper the Tin Woodman's name?" asked Uncle Henry.

"Yes; that's one of his names," answered the little girl; "and another
of his names is 'Emp'ror of the Winkies.'  He's the King of this
country, you know, but Ozma rules over all the countries of Oz."

"Does the Tin Woodman keep any Flutterbudgets or Rigmaroles at his
castle?" inquired Aunt Em, uneasily.

"No indeed," said Dorothy, positively.  "He lives in a new tin castle,
all full of lovely things."

"I should think it would rust," said Uncle Henry.

"He has thousands of Winkies to keep it polished for him," explained
the Wizard.  "His people love to do anything in their power for their
beloved Emperor, so there isn't a particle of rust on all the big
castle."

"I suppose they polish their Emperor, too," said Aunt Em.

"Why, some time ago he had himself nickel-plated," the Wizard answered;
"so he only needs rubbing up once in a while.  He's the brightest man
in all the world, is dear Nick Chopper; and the kindest-hearted."

"I helped find him," said Dorothy, reflectively.  "Once the Scarecrow
and I found the Tin Woodman in the woods, and he was just rusted still,
that time, an' no mistake.  But we oiled his joints an' got 'em good
and slippery, and after that he went with us to visit the Wizard at the
Em'rald City."

"Was that the time the Wizard scared you?" asked Aunt Em.

"He didn't treat us well, at first," acknowledged Dorothy; "for he made
us go away and destroy the Wicked Witch.  But after we found out he was
only a humbug wizard we were not afraid of him."

The Wizard sighed and looked a little ashamed.

"When we try to deceive people we always make mistakes," he said.  "But
I'm getting to be a real wizard now, and Glinda the Good's magic, that
I am trying to practice, can never harm any one."

"You were always a good man," declared Dorothy, "even when you were a
bad wizard."

"He's a good wizard now," asserted Aunt Em, looking at the little man
admiringly.  "The way he made those tents grow out of handkerchiefs was
just wonderful!  And didn't he enchant the wagon wheels so they'd find
the road?"

"All the people of Oz," said the Captain General, "are very proud of
their Wizard.  He once made some soap-bubbles that astonished the
world."

The Wizard blushed at this praise, yet it pleased him.  He no longer
looked sad, but seemed to have recovered his usual good humor.

The country through which they now rode was thickly dotted with
farmhouses, and yellow grain waved in all the fields.  Many of the
Winkies could be seen working on their farms and the wild and unsettled
parts of Oz were by this time left far behind.

These Winkies appeared to be happy, light-hearted folk, and all removed
their caps and bowed low when the red wagon with its load of travelers
passed by.

It was not long before they saw something glittering in the sunshine
far ahead.

"See!" cried Dorothy; "that's the Tin Castle, Aunt Em!"

And the Sawhorse, knowing his passengers were eager to arrive, broke
into a swift trot that soon brought them to their destination.



24.  How the Tin Woodman Told the Sad News

The Tin Woodman received Princess Dorothy's party with much grace and
cordiality, yet the little girl decided that something must be worrying
with her old friend, because he was not so merry as usual.

But at first she said nothing about this, for Uncle Henry and Aunt Em
were fairly bubbling over with admiration for the beautiful tin castle
and its polished tin owner.  So her suspicion that something unpleasant
had happened was for a time forgotten.

"Where is the Scarecrow?" she asked, when they had all been ushered
into the big tin drawing-room of the castle, the Sawhorse being led
around to the tin stable in the rear.

"Why, our old friend has just moved into his new mansion," explained
the Tin Woodman.  "It has been a long time in building, although my
Winkies and many other people from all parts of the country have been
busily working upon it.  At last, however, it is completed, and the
Scarecrow took possession of his new home just two days ago."

"I hadn't heard that he wanted a home of his own," said Dorothy.  "Why
doesn't he live with Ozma in the Emerald City?  He used to, you know;
and I thought he was happy there."

"It seems," said the Tin Woodman, "that our dear Scarecrow cannot be
contented with city life, however beautiful his surroundings might be.
Originally he was a farmer, for he passed his early life in a
cornfield, where he was supposed to frighten away the crows."

"I know," said Dorothy, nodding.  "I found him, and lifted him down
from his pole."

"So now, after a long residence in the Emerald City, his tastes have
turned to farm life again," continued the Tin Man.  "He feels that he
cannot be happy without a farm of his own, so Ozma gave him some land
and every one helped him build his mansion, and now he is settled there
for good."

"Who designed his house?" asked the Shaggy Man.

"I believe it was Jack Pumpkinhead, who is also a farmer," was the
reply.

They were now invited to enter the tin dining room, where luncheon was
served.

Aunt Em found, to her satisfaction, that Dorothy's promise was more
than fulfilled; for, although the Tin Woodman had no appetite of his
own, he respected the appetites of his guests and saw that they were
bountifully fed.

They passed the afternoon in wandering through the beautiful gardens
and grounds of the palace.  The walks were all paved with sheets of
tin, brightly polished, and there were tin fountains and tin statues
here and there among the trees.  The flowers were mostly natural
flowers and grew in the regular way; but their host showed them one
flower bed which was his especial pride.

"You see, all common flowers fade and die in time," he explained, "and
so there are seasons when the pretty blooms are scarce.  Therefore I
decided to make one tin flower bed all of tin flowers, and my workmen
have created them with rare skill.  Here you see tin camelias, tin
marigolds, tin carnations, tin poppies and tin hollyhocks growing as
naturally as if they were real."

Indeed, they were a pretty sight, and glistened under the sunlight like
spun silver.  "Isn't this tin hollyhock going to seed?" asked the
Wizard, bending over the flowers.

"Why, I believe it is!" exclaimed the Tin Woodman, as if surprised.  "I
hadn't noticed that before.  But I shall plant the tin seeds and raise
another bed of tin hollyhocks."

In one corner of the gardens Nick Chopper had established a fish-pond
in which they saw swimming and disporting themselves many pretty tin
fishes.

"Would they bite on hooks?" asked Aunt Em, curiously.

The Tin Woodman seemed hurt at this question.

"Madam," said he, "do you suppose I would allow anyone to catch my
beautiful fishes, even if they were foolish enough to bite on hooks?
No, indeed!  Every created thing is safe from harm in my domain, and I
would as soon think of killing my little friend Dorothy as killing one
of my tin fishes."

"The Emperor is very kind-hearted, ma'am," explained the Wizard.  "If a
fly happens to light upon his tin body he doesn't rudely brush it off,
as some people might do; he asks it politely to find some other resting
place."

"What does the fly do then?" enquired Aunt Em.

"Usually it begs his pardon and goes away," said the Wizard, gravely.
"Flies like to be treated politely as well as other creatures, and here
in Oz they understand what we say to them, and behave very nicely."

"Well," said Aunt Em, "the flies in Kansas, where I came from, don't
understand anything but a swat.  You have to smash 'em to make 'em
behave; and it's the same way with 'skeeters.  Do you have 'skeeters in
Oz?"

"We have some very large mosquitoes here, which sing as beautifully as
song birds," replied the Tin Woodman.  "But they never bite or annoy
our people, because they are well fed and taken care of.  The reason
they bite people in your country is because they are hungry--poor
things!"

"Yes," agreed Aunt Em; "they're hungry, all right.  An' they ain't very
particular who they feed on.  I'm glad you've got the 'skeeters
educated in Oz."

That evening after dinner they were entertained by the Emperor's Tin
Cornet Band, which played for them several sweet melodies.  Also the
Wizard did a few sleight-of-hand tricks to amuse the company; after
which they all retired to their cozy tin bedrooms and slept soundly
until morning.

After breakfast Dorothy said to the Tin Woodman:

"If you'll tell us which way to go we'll visit the Scarecrow on our way
home."

"I will go with you, and show you the way," replied the Emperor; "for I
must journey to-day to the Emerald City."

He looked so anxious, as he said this, that the little girl asked:

"There isn't anything wrong with Ozma, is there?"

"Not yet," said he; "but I'm afraid the time has come when I must tell
you some very bad news, little friend."

"Oh, what is it?" cried Dorothy.

"Do you remember the Nome King?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"I remember him very well," she replied.

"The Nome King has not a kind heart," said the Emperor, sadly, "and he
has been harboring wicked thoughts of revenge, because we once defeated
him and liberated his slaves and you took away his Magic Belt.  So he
has ordered his Nomes to dig a long tunnel underneath the deadly
desert, so that he may march his hosts right into the Emerald City.
When he gets there he intends to destroy our beautiful country."

Dorothy was much surprised to hear this.

"How did Ozma find out about the tunnel?" she asked.

"She saw it in her Magic Picture."

"Of course," said Dorothy; "I might have known that.  And what is she
going to do?"

"I cannot tell," was the reply.

"Pooh!" cried the Yellow Hen.  "We're not afraid of the Nomes.  If we
roll a few of our eggs down the tunnel they'll run away back home as
fast as they can go."

"Why, that's true enough!" exclaimed Dorothy.  "The Scarecrow once
conquered all the Nome King's army with some of Billina's eggs."

"But you do not understand all of the dreadful plot," continued the Tin
Woodman.  "The Nome King is clever, and he knows his Nomes would run
from eggs; so he has bargained with many terrible creatures to help
him.  These evil spirits are not afraid of eggs or anything else, and
they are very powerful.  So the Nome King will send them through the
tunnel first, to conquer and destroy, and then the Nomes will follow
after to get their share of the plunder and slaves."

They were all startled to hear this, and every face wore a troubled
look.

"Is the tunnel all ready?" asked Dorothy.

"Ozma sent me word yesterday that the tunnel was all completed except
for a thin crust of earth at the end.  When our enemies break through
this crust, they will be in the gardens of the royal palace, in the
heart of the Emerald City.  I offered to arm all my Winkies and march
to Ozma's assistance; but she said no."

"I wonder why?" asked Dorothy.

"She answered that all the inhabitants of Oz, gathered together, were
not powerful enough to fight and overcome the evil forces of the Nome
King.  Therefore she refuses to fight at all."

"But they will capture and enslave us, and plunder and ruin all our
lovely land!" exclaimed the Wizard, greatly disturbed by this statement.

"I fear they will," said the Tin Woodman, sorrowfully.  "And I also
fear that those who are not fairies, such as the Wizard, and Dorothy,
and her uncle and aunt, as well as Toto and Billina, will be speedily
put to death by the conquerors."

"What can be done?" asked Dorothy, shuddering a little at the prospect
of this awful fate.

"Nothing can be done!" gloomily replied the Emperor of the Winkies.
"But since Ozma refuses my army I will go myself to the Emerald City.
The least I may do is to perish beside my beloved Ruler."



25.  How the Scarecrow Displayed His Wisdom

This amazing news had saddened every heart and all were now anxious to
return to the Emerald City and share Ozma's fate.  So they started
without loss of time, and as the road led past the Scarecrow's new
mansion they determined to make a brief halt there and confer with him.

"The Scarecrow is probably the wisest man in all Oz," remarked the Tin
Woodman, when they had started upon their journey.  "His brains are
plentiful and of excellent quality, and often he has told me things I
might never have thought of myself.  I must say I rely a great deal
upon the Scarecrow's brains in this emergency."

The Tin Woodman rode on the front seat of the wagon, where Dorothy sat
between him and the Wizard.

"Has the Scarecrow heard of Ozma's trouble?" asked the Captain General.

"I do not know, sir," was the reply.

"When I was a private," said Omby Amby, "I was an excellent army, as I
fully proved in our war against the Nomes.  But now there is not a
single private left in our army, since Ozma made me the Captain
General, so there is no one to fight and defend our lovely Ruler."

"True," said the Wizard.  "The present army is composed only of
officers, and the business of an officer is to order his men to fight.
Since there are no men there can be no fighting."

"Poor Ozma!" whispered Dorothy, with tears in her sweet eyes.  "It's
dreadful to think of all her lovely fairy country being destroyed.  I
wonder if we couldn't manage to escape and get back to Kansas by means
of the Magic Belt?  And we might take Ozma with us and all work hard to
get money for her, so she wouldn't be so VERY lonely and unhappy about
the loss of her fairyland."

"Do you think there would be any work for ME in Kansas?" asked the Tin
Woodman.

"If you are hollow, they might use you in a canning factory," suggested
Uncle Henry.  "But I can't see the use of your working for a living.
You never eat or sleep or need a new suit of clothes."

"I was not thinking of myself," replied the Emperor, with dignity.  "I
merely wondered if I could not help to support Dorothy and Ozma."

As they indulged in these sad plans for the future they journeyed in
sight of the Scarecrow's new mansion, and even though filled with care
and worry over the impending fate of Oz, Dorothy couldn't help a
feeling of wonder at the sight she saw.

The Scarecrow's new house was shaped like an immense ear of corn.  The
rows of kernels were made of solid gold, and the green upon which the
ear stood upright was a mass of sparkling emeralds.  Upon the very top
of the structure was perched a figure representing the Scarecrow
himself, and upon his extended arms, as well as upon his head, were
several crows carved out of ebony and having ruby eyes.  You may
imagine how big this ear of corn was when I tell you that a single gold
kernel formed a window, swinging outward upon hinges, while a row of
four kernels opened to make the front entrance.  Inside there were five
stories, each story being a single room.

The gardens around the mansion consisted of cornfields, and Dorothy
acknowledged that the place was in all respects a very appropriate home
for her good friend the Scarecrow.

"He would have been very happy here, I'm sure," she said, "if only the
Nome King had left us alone.  But if Oz is destroyed of course this
place will be destroyed too."

"Yes," replied the Tin Woodman, "and also my beautiful tin castle, that
has been my joy and pride."

"Jack Pumpkinhead's house will go too," remarked the Wizard, "as well
as Professor Wogglebug's Athletic College, and Ozma's royal palace, and
all our other handsome buildings."

"Yes, Oz will indeed become a desert when the Nome King gets through
with it," sighed Omby Amby.

The Scarecrow came out to meet them and gave them all a hearty welcome.

"I hear you have decided always to live in the Land of Oz, after this,"
he said to Dorothy; "and that will delight my heart, for I have greatly
disliked our frequent partings.  But why are you all so downcast?"

"Have you heard the news?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"No news to make me sad," replied the Scarecrow.

Then Nick Chopper told his friend of the Nome King's tunnel, and how
the evil creatures of the North had allied themselves with the
underground monarch for the purpose of conquering and destroying Oz.
"Well," said the Scarecrow, "it certainly looks bad for Ozma, and all
of us.  But I believe it is wrong to worry over anything before it
happens.  It is surely time enough to be sad when our country is
despoiled and our people made slaves.  So let us not deprive ourselves
of the few happy hours remaining to us."

"Ah! that is real wisdom," declared the Shaggy Man, approvingly.
"After we become really unhappy we shall regret these few hours that
are left to us, unless we enjoy them to the utmost."

"Nevertheless," said the Scarecrow, "I shall go with you to the Emerald
City and offer Ozma my services."

"She says we can do nothing to oppose our enemies," announced the Tin
Woodman.

"And doubtless she is right, sir," answered the Scarecrow.  "Still, she
will appreciate our sympathy, and it is the duty of Ozma's friends to
stand by her side when the final disaster occurs."

He then led them into his queer mansion and showed them the beautiful
rooms in all the five stories.  The lower room was a grand reception
hall, with a hand-organ in one corner.  This instrument the Scarecrow,
when alone, could turn to amuse himself, as he was very fond of music.
The walls were hung with white silk, upon which flocks of black crows
were embroidered in black diamonds.  Some of the chairs were made in
the shape of big crows and upholstered with cushions of corn-colored
silk.

The second story contained a fine banquet room, where the Scarecrow
might entertain his guests, and the three stories above that were
bed-chambers exquisitely furnished and decorated.

"From these rooms," said the Scarecrow, proudly, "one may obtain fine
views of the surrounding cornfields.  The corn I grow is always husky,
and I call the ears my regiments, because they have so many kernels.
Of course I cannot ride my cobs, but I really don't care shucks about
that.  Taken altogether, my farm will stack up with any in the
neighborhood."

The visitors partook of some light refreshment and then hurried away to
resume the road to the Emerald City.  The Scarecrow found a seat in the
wagon between Omby Amby and the Shaggy Man, and his weight did not add
much to the load because he was stuffed with straw.

"You will notice I have one oat-field on my property," he remarked, as
they drove away.  "Oat-straw is, I have found, the best of all straws
to re-stuff myself with when my interior gets musty or out of shape."

"Are you able to re-stuff yourself without help?" asked Aunt Em.  "I
should think that after the straw was taken out of you there wouldn't
be anything left but your clothes."

"You are almost correct, madam," he answered.  "My servants do the
stuffing, under my direction.  For my head, in which are my excellent
brains, is a bag tied at the bottom.  My face is neatly painted upon
one side of the bag, as you may see.  My head does not need
re-stuffing, as my body does, for all that it requires is to have the
face touched up with fresh paint occasionally."

It was not far from the Scarecrow's mansion to the farm of Jack
Pumpkinhead, and when they arrived there both Uncle Henry and Aunt Em
were much impressed.  The farm was one vast pumpkin field, and some of
the pumpkins were of enormous size.  In one of them, which had been
neatly hollowed out, Jack himself lived, and he declared that it was a
very comfortable residence.  The reason he grew so many pumpkins was in
order that he might change his head as often as it became wrinkled or
threatened to spoil.

The pumpkin-headed man welcomed his visitors joyfully and offered them
several delicious pumpkin pies to eat.

"I don't indulge in pumpkin pies myself, for two reasons," he said.
"One reason is that were I to eat pumpkins I would become a cannibal,
and the other reason is that I never eat, not being hollow inside."

"Very good reasons," agreed the Scarecrow.

They told Jack Pumpkinhead of the dreadful news about the Nome King,
and he decided to go with them to the Emerald City and help comfort
Ozma.

"I had expected to live here in ease and comfort for many centuries,"
said Jack, dolefully; "but of course if the Nome King destroys
everything in Oz I shall be destroyed too.  Really, it seems too bad,
doesn't it?"

They were soon on their journey again, and so swiftly did the Sawhorse
draw the wagon over the smooth roads that before twilight fell they had
reached the royal palace in the Emerald City, and were at their
journey's end.



26.  How Ozma Refused to Fight for Her Kingdom

Ozma was in her rose garden picking a bouquet when the party arrived,
and she greeted all her old and new friends as smilingly and sweetly as
ever.

Dorothy's eyes were full of tears as she kissed the lovely Ruler of Oz,
and she whispered to her:

"Oh, Ozma, Ozma!  I'm SO sorry!"

Ozma seemed surprised.

"Sorry for what, Dorothy?" she asked.

"For all your trouble about the Nome King," was the reply.

Ozma laughed with genuine amusement.

"Why, that has not troubled me a bit, dear Princess," she replied.
Then, looking around at the sad faces of her friends, she added: "Have
you all been worrying about this tunnel?"

"We have!" they exclaimed in a chorus.

"Well, perhaps it is more serious than I imagined," admitted the fair
Ruler; "but I haven't given the matter much thought.  After dinner we
will all meet together and talk it over."

So they went to their rooms and prepared for dinner, and Dorothy
dressed herself in her prettiest gown and put on her coronet, for she
thought that this might be the last time she would ever appear as a
Princess of Oz.

The Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and Jack Pumpkinhead all sat at the
dinner table, although none of them was made so he could eat.  Usually
they served to enliven the meal with their merry talk, but to-night all
seemed strangely silent and uneasy.

As soon as the dinner was finished Ozma led the company to her own
private room in which hung the Magic Picture.  When they had seated
themselves the Scarecrow was the first to speak.

"Is the Nome King's tunnel finished, Ozma?" he asked.

"It was completed to-day," she replied.  "They have built it right
under my palace grounds, and it ends in front of the Forbidden
Fountain.  Nothing but a crust of earth remains to separate our enemies
from us, and when they march here, they will easily break through this
crust and rush upon us."

"Who will assist the Nome King?" inquired the Scarecrow.

"The Whimsies, the Growleywogs and the Phanfasms," she replied.  "I
watched to-day in my Magic Picture the messengers whom the Nome King
sent to all these people to summon them to assemble in his great
caverns."

"Let us see what they are doing now," suggested the Tin Woodman.

So Ozma wished to see the Nome King's cavern, and at once the landscape
faded from the Magic Picture and was replaced by the scene then being
enacted in the jeweled cavern of King Roquat.

A wild and startling scene it was which the Oz people beheld.

Before the Nome King stood the Chief of the Whimsies and the Grand
Gallipoot of the Growleywogs, surrounded by their most skillful
generals.  Very fierce and powerful they looked, so that even the Nome
King and General Guph, who stood beside his master, seemed a bit
fearful in the presence of their allies.

Now a still more formidable creature entered the cavern.  It was the
First and Foremost of the Phanfasms and he proudly sat down in King
Roquat's own throne and demanded the right to lead his forces through
the tunnel in advance of all the others.  The First and Foremost now
appeared to all eyes in his hairy skin and the bear's head.  What his
real form was even Roquat did not know.

Through the arches leading into the vast series of caverns that lay
beyond the throne room of King Roquat could be seen ranks upon ranks of
the invaders--thousands of Phanfasms, Growleywogs and Whimsies standing
in serried lines, while behind them were massed the thousands upon
thousands of General Guph's own army of Nomes.

"Listen!" whispered Ozma.  "I think we can hear what they are saying."

So they kept still and listened.

"Is all ready?" demanded the First and Foremost, haughtily.

"The tunnel is finally completed," replied General Guph.

"How long will it take us to march to the Emerald City?" asked the
Grand Gallipoot of the Growleywogs.

"If we start at midnight," replied the Nome King, "we shall arrive at
the Emerald City by daybreak.  Then, while all the Oz people are
sleeping, we will capture them and make them our slaves.  After that we
will destroy the city itself and march through the Land of Oz, burning
and devastating as we go."

"Good!" cried the First and Foremost.  "When we get through with Oz it
will be a desert wilderness.  Ozma shall be my slave."

"She shall be MY slave!" shouted the Grand Gallipoot, angrily.

"We'll decide that by and by," said King Roquat hastily.  "Don't let us
quarrel now, friends.  First let us conquer Oz, and then we will divide
the spoils of war in a satisfactory manner."

The First and Foremost smiled wickedly; but he only said:

"I and my Phanfasms go first, for nothing on earth can oppose our
power."

They all agreed to that, knowing the Phanfasms to be the mightiest of
the combined forces.  King Roquat now invited them to attend a banquet
he had prepared, where they might occupy themselves in eating and
drinking until midnight arrived.

As they had now seen and heard all of the plot against them that they
cared to, Ozma allowed her Magic Picture to fade away.  Then she turned
to her friends and said:

"Our enemies will be here sooner than I expected.  What do you advise
me to do?"

"It is now too late to assemble our people," said the Tin Woodman,
despondently.  "If you had allowed me to arm and drill my Winkies, we
might have put up a good fight and destroyed many of our enemies before
we were conquered."

"The Munchkins are good fighters, too," said Omby Amby; "and so are the
Gillikins."

"But I do not wish to fight," declared Ozma, firmly.  "No one has the
right to destroy any living creatures, however evil they may be, or to
hurt them or make them unhappy.  I will not fight, even to save my
kingdom."

"The Nome King is not so particular," remarked the Scarecrow.  "He
intends to destroy us all and ruin our beautiful country."

"Because the Nome King intends to do evil is no excuse for my doing the
same," replied Ozma.

"Self-preservation is the first law of nature," quoted the Shaggy Man.

"True," she said, readily.  "I would like to discover a plan to save
ourselves without fighting."

That seemed a hopeless task to them, but realizing that Ozma was
determined not to fight, they tried to think of some means that might
promise escape.

"Couldn't we bribe our enemies, by giving them a lot of emeralds and
gold?" asked Jack Pumpkinhead.

"No, because they believe they are able to take everything we have,"
replied the Ruler.

"I have thought of something," said Dorothy.

"What is it, dear?" asked Ozma.

"Let us use the Magic Belt to wish all of us in Kansas.  We will put
some emeralds in our pockets, and can sell them in Topeka for enough to
pay off the mortgage on Uncle Henry's farm.  Then we can all live
together and be happy."

"A clever idea!" exclaimed the Scarecrow.

"Kansas is a very good country.  I've been there," said the Shaggy Man.

"That seems to me an excellent plan," approved the Tin Woodman.

"No!" said Ozma, decidedly.  "Never will I desert my people and leave
them to so cruel a fate.  I will use the Magic Belt to send the rest of
you to Kansas, if you wish, but if my beloved country must be destroyed
and my people enslaved I will remain and share their fate."

"Quite right," asserted the Scarecrow, sighing.  "I will remain with
you."

"And so will I," declared the Tin Woodman and the Shaggy Man and Jack
Pumpkinhead, in turn.  Tiktok, the machine man, also said he intended
to stand by Ozma.  "For," said he, "I should be of no use at all in
Kan-sas."

"For my part," announced Dorothy, gravely, "if the Ruler of Oz must not
desert her people, a Princess of Oz has no right to run away, either.
I'm willing to become a slave with the rest of you; so all we can do
with the Magic Belt is to use it to send Uncle Henry and Aunt Em back
to Kansas."

"I've been a slave all my life," Aunt Em replied, with considerable
cheerfulness, "and so has Henry.  I guess we won't go back to Kansas,
anyway.  I'd rather take my chances with the rest of you."

Ozma smiled upon them all gratefully.

"There is no need to despair just yet," she said.  "I'll get up early
to-morrow morning and be at the Forbidden Fountain when the fierce
warriors break through the crust of the earth.  I will speak to them
pleasantly and perhaps they won't be so very bad, after all."

"Why do they call it the Forbidden Fountain?" asked Dorothy,
thoughtfully.

"Don't you know, dear?" returned Ozma, surprised.

"No," said Dorothy.  "Of course I've seen the fountain in the palace
grounds, ever since I first came to Oz; and I've read the sign which
says: 'All Persons are Forbidden to Drink at this Fountain.'  But I
never knew WHY they were forbidden.  The water seems clear and
sparkling and it bubbles up in a golden basin all the time."

"That water," declared Ozma, gravely, "is the most dangerous thing in
all the Land of Oz.  It is the Water of Oblivion."

"What does that mean?" asked Dorothy.

"Whoever drinks at the Forbidden Fountain at once forgets everything he
has ever known," Ozma asserted.

"It wouldn't be a bad way to forget our troubles," suggested Uncle
Henry.

"That is true; but you would forget everything else, and become as
ignorant as a baby," returned Ozma.

"Does it make one crazy?" asked Dorothy.

"No; it only makes one forget," replied the girl Ruler.  "It is said
that once--long, long ago--a wicked King ruled Oz, and made himself and
all his people very miserable and unhappy.  So Glinda, the Good
Sorceress, placed this fountain here, and the King drank of its water
and forgot all his wickedness.  His mind became innocent and vacant,
and when he learned the things of life again they were all good things.
But the people remembered how wicked their King had been, and were
still afraid of him.  Therefore, he made them all drink of the Water of
Oblivion and forget everything they had known, so that they became as
simple and innocent as their King.  After that, they all grew wise
together, and their wisdom was good, so that peace and happiness
reigned in the land.  But for fear some one might drink of the water
again, and in an instant forget all he had learned, the King put that
sign upon the fountain, where it has remained for many centuries up to
this very day."

They had all listened intently to Ozma's story, and when she finished
speaking there was a long period of silence while all thought upon the
curious magical power of the Water of Oblivion.

Finally the Scarecrow's painted face took on a broad smile that
stretched the cloth as far as it would go.

"How thankful I am," he said, "that I have such an excellent assortment
of brains!"

"I gave you the best brains I ever mixed," declared the Wizard, with an
air of pride.

"You did, indeed!" agreed the Scarecrow, "and they work so splendidly
that they have found a way to save Oz--to save us all!"

"I'm glad to hear that," said the Wizard.  "We never needed saving more
than we do just now."

"Do you mean to say you can save us from those awful Phanfasms, and
Growleywogs and Whimsies?" asked Dorothy eagerly.

"I'm sure of it, my dear," asserted the Scarecrow, still smiling
genially.

"Tell us how!" cried the Tin Woodman.

"Not now," said the Scarecrow.  "You may all go to bed, and I advise
you to forget your worries just as completely as if you had drunk of
the Water of Oblivion in the Forbidden Fountain.  I'm going to stay
here and tell my plan to Ozma alone, but if you will all be at the
Forbidden Fountain at daybreak, you'll see how easily we will save the
kingdom when our enemies break through the crust of earth and come from
the tunnel."

So they went away and let the Scarecrow and Ozma alone; but Dorothy
could not sleep a wink all night.

"He is only a Scarecrow," she said to herself, "and I'm not sure that
his mixed brains are as clever as he thinks they are."

But she knew that if the Scarecrow's plan failed they were all lost; so
she tried to have faith in him.



27.  How the Fierce Warriors Invaded Oz

The Nome King and his terrible allies sat at the banquet table until
midnight.  There was much quarreling between the Growleywogs and
Phanfasms, and one of the wee-headed Whimsies got angry at General Guph
and choked him until he nearly stopped breathing.  Yet no one was
seriously hurt, and the Nome King felt much relieved when the clock
struck twelve and they all sprang up and seized their weapons.

"Aha!" shouted the First and Foremost.  "Now to conquer the Land of Oz!"

He marshaled his Phanfasms in battle array and at his word of command
they marched into the tunnel and began the long journey through it to
the Emerald City.  The First and Foremost intended to take all the
treasures of Oz for himself; to kill all who could be killed and
enslave the rest; to destroy and lay waste the whole country, and
afterward to conquer and enslave the Nomes, the Growleywogs and the
Whimsies.  And he knew his power was sufficient to enable him to do all
these things easily.

Next marched into the tunnel the army of gigantic Growleywogs, with
their Grand Gallipoot at their head.  They were dreadful beings,
indeed, and longed to get to Oz that they might begin to pilfer and
destroy.  The Grand Gallipoot was a little afraid of the First and
Foremost, but had a cunning plan to murder or destroy that powerful
being and secure the wealth of Oz for himself.  Mighty little of the
plunder would the Nome King get, thought the Grand Gallipoot.

The Chief of the Whimsies now marched his false-headed forces into the
tunnel.  In his wicked little head was a plot to destroy both the First
and Foremost and the Grand Gallipoot.  He intended to let them conquer
Oz, since they insisted on going first; but he would afterward
treacherously destroy them, as well as King Roquat, and keep all the
slaves and treasure of Ozma's kingdom for himself.

After all his dangerous allies had marched into the tunnel the Nome
King and General Guph started to follow them, at the head of fifty
thousand Nomes, all fully armed.

"Guph," said the King, "those creatures ahead of us mean mischief.
They intend to get everything for themselves and leave us nothing."

"I know," replied the General; "but they are not as clever as they
think they are.  When you get the Magic Belt you must at once wish the
Whimsies and Growleywogs and Phanfasms all back into their own
countries--and the Belt will surely take them there."

"Good!" cried the King.  "An excellent plan, Guph.  I'll do it.  While
they are conquering Oz I'll get the Magic Belt, and then only the Nomes
will remain to ravage the country."

So you see there was only one thing that all were agreed upon--that Oz
should be destroyed.

On, on, on the vast ranks of invaders marched, filling the tunnel from
side to side.  With a steady tramp, tramp, they advanced, every step
taking them nearer to the beautiful Emerald City.

"Nothing can save the Land of Oz!" thought the First and Foremost,
scowling until his bear face was as black as the tunnel.

"The Emerald City is as good as destroyed already!" muttered the Grand
Gallipoot, shaking his war club fiercely.

"In a few hours Oz will be a desert!" said the Chief of the Whimsies,
with an evil laugh.

"My dear Guph," remarked the Nome King to his General, "at last my
vengeance upon Ozma of Oz and her people is about to be accomplished."

"You are right!" declared the General.  "Ozma is surely lost."

And now the First and Foremost, who was in advance and nearing the
Emerald City, began to cough and to sneeze.

"This tunnel is terribly dusty," he growled, angrily.  "I'll punish
that Nome King for not having it swept clean.  My throat and eyes are
getting full of dust and I'm as thirsty as a fish!"

The Grand Gallipoot was coughing too, and his throat was parched and
dry.

"What a dusty place!" he cried.  "I'll be glad when we reach Oz, where
we can get a drink."

"Who has any water?" asked the Whimsie Chief, gasping and choking.  But
none of his followers carried a drop of water, so he hastened on to get
through the dusty tunnel to the Land of Oz.

"Where did all this dust come from?" demanded General Guph, trying hard
to swallow but finding his throat so dry he couldn't.

"I don't know," answered the Nome King.  "I've been in the tunnel every
day while it was being built, but I never noticed any dust before."

"Let's hurry!" cried the General.  "I'd give half the gold in Oz for a
drink of water."

The dust grew thicker and thicker, and the throats and eyes and noses
of the invaders were filled with it.  But not one halted or turned
back.  They hurried forward more fierce and vengeful than ever.



28.  How They Drank at the Forbidden Fountain

The Scarecrow had no need to sleep; neither had the Tin Woodman or
Tiktok or Jack Pumpkinhead.  So they all wandered out into the palace
grounds and stood beside the sparkling water of the Forbidden Fountain
until daybreak.  During this time they indulged in occasional
conversation.

"Nothing could make me forget what I know," remarked the Scarecrow,
gazing into the fountain, "for I cannot drink the Water of Oblivion or
water of any kind.  And I am glad that this is so, for I consider my
wisdom unexcelled."

"You are cer-tain-ly ve-ry wise," agreed Tiktok.  "For my part, I can
on-ly think by ma-chin-er-y, so I do not pre-tend to know as much as
you do."

"My tin brains are very bright, but that is all I claim for them," said
Nick Chopper, modestly.  "Yet I do not aspire to being very wise, for I
have noticed that the happiest people are those who do not let their
brains oppress them."

"Mine never worry me," Jack Pumpkinhead acknowledged.  "There are many
seeds of thought in my head, but they do not sprout easily.  I am glad
that it is so, for if I occupied my days in thinking I should have no
time for anything else."

In this cheery mood they passed the hours until the first golden
streaks of dawn appeared in the sky.  Then Ozma joined them, as fresh
and lovely as ever and robed in one of her prettiest gowns.

"Our enemies have not yet arrived," said the Scarecrow, after greeting
affectionately the sweet and girlish Ruler.

"They will soon be here," she said, "for I have just glanced at my
Magic Picture, and have seen them coughing and choking with the dust in
the tunnel."

"Oh, is there dust in the tunnel?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"Yes; Ozma placed it there by means of the Magic Belt," explained the
Scarecrow, with one of his broad smiles.

Then Dorothy came to them, Uncle Henry and Aunt Em following close
after her.  The little girl's eyes were heavy because she had had a
sleepless and anxious night.  Toto walked by her side, but the little
dog's spirits were very much subdued.  Billina, who was always up by
daybreak, was not long in joining the group by the fountain.

The Wizard and the Shaggy Man next arrived, and soon after appeared
Omby Amby, dressed in his best uniform.

"There lies the tunnel," said Ozma, pointing to a part of the ground
just before the Forbidden Fountain, "and in a few moments the dreadful
invaders will break through the earth and swarm over the land.  Let us
all stand on the other side of the Fountain and watch to see what
happens."

At once they followed her suggestion and moved around the fountain of
the Water of Oblivion.  There they stood silent and expectant until the
earth beyond gave way with a sudden crash and up leaped the powerful
form of the First and Foremost, followed by all his grim warriors.

As the leader sprang forward his gleaming eyes caught the play of the
fountain and he rushed toward it and drank eagerly of the sparkling
water.  Many of the other Phanfasms drank, too, in order to clear their
dry and dusty throats.  Then they stood around and looked at one
another with simple, wondering smiles.

The First and Foremost saw Ozma and her companions beyond the fountain,
but instead of making an effort to capture her he merely stared at her
in pleased admiration of her beauty--for he had forgotten where he was
and why he had come there.

But now the Grand Gallipoot arrived, rushing from the tunnel with a
hoarse cry of mingled rage and thirst.  He too saw the fountain and
hastened to drink of its forbidden waters.  The other Growleywogs were
not slow to follow suit, and even before they had finished drinking the
Chief of the Whimsies and his people came to push them away, while they
one and all cast off their false heads that they might slake their
thirst at the fountain.

When the Nome King and General Guph arrived they both made a dash to
drink, but the General was so mad with thirst that he knocked his King
over, and while Roquat lay sprawling upon the ground the General drank
heartily of the Water of Oblivion.

This rude act of his General made the Nome King so angry that for a
moment he forgot he was thirsty and rose to his feet to glare upon the
group of terrible warriors he had brought here to assist him.  He saw
Ozma and her people, too, and yelled out:

"Why don't you capture them?  Why don't you conquer Oz, you idiots?
Why do you stand there like a lot of dummies?"

But the great warriors had become like little children.  They had
forgotten all their enmity against Ozma and against Oz.  They had even
forgotten who they themselves were, or why they were in this strange
and beautiful country.  As for the Nome King, they did not recognize
him, and wondered who he was.

The sun came up and sent its flood of silver rays to light the faces of
the invaders.  The frowns and scowls and evil looks were all gone.
Even the most monstrous of the creatures there assembled smiled
innocently and seemed light-hearted and content merely to be alive.

Not so with Roquat, the Nome King.  He had not drunk from the Forbidden
Fountain and all his former rage against Ozma and Dorothy now inflamed
him as fiercely as ever.  The sight of General Guph babbling like a
happy child and playing with his hands in the cool waters of the
fountain astonished and maddened Red Roquat.  Seeing that his terrible
allies and his own General refused to act, the Nome King turned to
order his great army of Nomes to advance from the tunnel and seize the
helpless Oz people.

But the Scarecrow suspected what was in the King's mind and spoke a
word to the Tin Woodman.  Together they ran at Roquat and grabbing him
up tossed him into the great basin of the fountain.

The Nome King's body was round as a ball, and it bobbed up and down in
the Water of Oblivion while he spluttered and screamed with fear lest
he should drown.  And when he cried out, his mouth filled with water,
which ran down his throat, so that straightway he forgot all he had
formerly known just as completely as had all the other invaders.

Ozma and Dorothy could not refrain from laughing to see their dreaded
enemies become as harmless as babies.  There was no danger now that Oz
would be destroyed.  The only question remaining to solve was how to
get rid of this horde of intruders.

The Shaggy Man kindly pulled the Nome King out of the fountain and set
him upon his thin legs.  Roquat was dripping wet, but he chattered and
laughed and wanted to drink more of the water.  No thought of injuring
any person was now in his mind.

Before he left the tunnel he had commanded his fifty thousand Nomes to
remain there until he ordered them to advance, as he wished to give his
allies time to conquer Oz before he appeared with his own army.  Ozma
did not wish all these Nomes to overrun her land, so she advanced to
King Roquat and taking his hand in her own said gently:

"Who are you?  What is your name?"

"I don't know," he replied, smiling at her.  "Who are you, my dear?"

"My name is Ozma," she said; "and your name is Roquat."

"Oh, is it?" he replied, seeming pleased.

"Yes; you are King of the Nomes," she said.

"Ah; I wonder what the Nomes are!" returned the King, as if puzzled.

"They are underground elves, and that tunnel over there is full of
them," she answered.  "You have a beautiful cavern at the other end of
the tunnel, so you must go to your Nomes and say: 'March home!'  Then
follow after them and in time you will reach the pretty cavern where
you live."

The Nome King was much pleased to learn this, for he had forgotten he
had a cavern.  So he went to the tunnel and said to his army: 'March
home!'  At once the Nomes turned and marched back through the tunnel,
and the King followed after them, laughing with delight to find his
orders so readily obeyed.

The Wizard went to General Guph, who was trying to count his fingers,
and told him to follow the Nome King, who was his master.  Guph meekly
obeyed, and so all the Nomes quitted the Land of Oz forever.

But there were still the Phanfasms and Whimsies and Growleywogs
standing around in groups, and they were so many that they filled the
gardens and trampled upon the flowers and grass because they did not
know that the tender plants would be injured by their clumsy feet.  But
in all other respects they were perfectly harmless and played together
like children or gazed with pleasure upon the pretty sights of the
royal gardens.

After counseling with the Scarecrow Ozma sent Omby Amby to the palace
for the Magic Belt, and when the Captain General returned with it the
Ruler of Oz at once clasped the precious Belt around her waist.

"I wish all these strange people--the Whimsies and the Growleywogs and
the Phanfasms--safe back in their own homes!" she said.

It all happened in a twinkling, for of course the wish was no sooner
spoken than it was granted.

All the hosts of the invaders were gone, and only the trampled grass
showed that they had ever been in the Land of Oz.



29.  How Glinda Worked a Magic Spell

"That was better than fighting," said Ozma, when all our friends were
assembled in the palace after the exciting events of the morning; and
each and every one agreed with her.

"No one was hurt," said the Wizard, delightedly.

"And no one hurt us," added Aunt Em.

"But, best of all," said Dorothy, "the wicked people have all forgotten
their wickedness, and will not wish to hurt any one after this."

"True, Princess," declared the Shaggy Man.  "It seems to me that to
have reformed all those evil characters is more important than to have
saved Oz."

"Nevertheless," remarked the Scarecrow, "I am glad Oz is saved.  I can
now go back to my new mansion and live happily."

"And I am glad and grateful that my pumpkin farm is saved," said Jack.

"For my part," added the Tin Woodman, "I cannot express my joy that my
lovely tin castle is not to be demolished by wicked enemies."

"Still," said Tiktok, "o-ther en-e-mies may come to Oz some day."

"Why do you allow your clock-work brains to interrupt our joy?" asked
Omby Amby, frowning at the machine man.

"I say what I am wound up to say," answered Tiktok.

"And you are right," declared Ozma.  "I myself have been thinking of
this very idea, and it seems to me there are entirely too many ways for
people to get to the Land of Oz.  We used to think the deadly desert
that surrounds us was enough protection; but that is no longer the
case.  The Wizard and Dorothy have both come here through the air, and
I am told the earth people have invented airships that can fly anywhere
they wish them to go."

"Why, sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't," asserted Dorothy.

"But in time the airships may cause us trouble," continued Ozma, "for
if the earth folk learn how to manage them we would be overrun with
visitors who would ruin our lovely, secluded fairyland."

"That is true enough," agreed the Wizard.

"Also the desert fails to protect us in other ways," Ozma went on,
thoughtfully.  "Johnny Dooit once made a sand-boat that sailed across
it, and the Nome King made a tunnel under it.  So I believe something
ought to be done to cut us off from the rest of the world entirely, so
that no one in the future will ever be able to intrude upon us."

"How will you do that?" asked the Scarecrow.

"I do not know; but in some way I am sure it can be accomplished.
To-morrow I will make a journey to the castle of Glinda the Good, and
ask her advice."

"May I go with you?" asked Dorothy, eagerly.

"Of course, my dear Princess; and I also invite any of our friends here
who would like to undertake the journey."

They all declared they wished to accompany their girl Ruler, for this
was indeed an important mission, since the future of the Land of Oz to
a great extent depended upon it.  So Ozma gave orders to her servants
to prepare for the journey on the morrow.

That day she watched her Magic Picture, and when it showed her that all
the Nomes had returned through the tunnel to their underground caverns,
Ozma used the Magic Belt to close up the tunnel, so that the earth
underneath the desert sands became as solid as it was before the Nomes
began to dig.

Early the following morning a gay cavalcade set out to visit the famous
Sorceress, Glinda the Good.  Ozma and Dorothy rode in a chariot drawn
by the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger, while the Sawhorse drew the
red wagon in which rode the rest of the party.

With hearts light and free from care they traveled merrily along
through the lovely and fascinating Land of Oz, and in good season
reached the stately castle in which resided the Sorceress.

Glinda knew that they were coming.

"I have been reading about you in my Magic Book," she said, as she
greeted them in her gracious way.

"What is your Magic Book like?" inquired Aunt Em, curiously.

"It is a record of everything that happens," replied the Sorceress.
"As soon as an event takes place, anywhere in the world, it is
immediately found printed in my Magic Book.  So when I read its pages I
am well informed."

"Did it tell you how our enemies drank the Water of 'Blivion?" asked
Dorothy.

"Yes, my dear; it told all about it.  And also it told me you were all
coming to my castle, and why."

"Then," said Ozma, "I suppose you know what is in my mind, and that I
am seeking a way to prevent any one in the future from discovering the
Land of Oz."

"Yes; I know that.  And while you were on your journey I have thought
of a way to accomplish your desire.  For it seems to me unwise to allow
too many outside people to come here.  Dorothy, with her uncle and
aunt, has now returned to Oz to live always, and there is no reason why
we should leave any way open for others to travel uninvited to our
fairyland.  Let us make it impossible for any one ever to communicate
with us in any way, after this.  Then we may live peacefully and
contentedly."

"Your advice is wise," returned Ozma.  "I thank you, Glinda, for your
promise to assist me."

"But how can you do it?" asked Dorothy.  "How can you keep every one
from ever finding Oz?"

"By making our country invisible to all eyes but our own," replied the
Sorceress, smiling.  "I have a magic charm powerful enough to
accomplish that wonderful feat, and now that we have been warned of our
danger by the Nome King's invasion, I believe we must not hesitate to
separate ourselves forever from all the rest of the world."

"I agree with you," said the Ruler of Oz.

"Won't it make any difference to us?" asked Dorothy, doubtfully.

"No, my dear," Glinda answered, assuringly.  "We shall still be able to
see each other and everything in the Land of Oz.  It won't affect us at
all; but those who fly through the air over our country will look down
and see nothing at all.  Those who come to the edge of the desert, or
try to cross it, will catch no glimpse of Oz, or know in what direction
it lies.  No one will try to tunnel to us again because we cannot be
seen and therefore cannot be found.  In other words, the Land of Oz
will entirely disappear from the knowledge of the rest of the world."

"That's all right," said Dorothy, cheerfully.  "You may make Oz
invis'ble as soon as you please, for all I care."

"It is already invisible," Glinda stated.  "I knew Ozma's wishes, and
performed the Magic Spell before you arrived."

Ozma seized the hand of the Sorceress and pressed it gratefully.

"Thank you!" she said.



30.  How the Story of Oz Came to an End

The writer of these Oz stories has received a little note from Princess
Dorothy of Oz which, for a time, has made him feel rather disconcerted.
The note was written on a broad, white feather from a stork's wing, and
it said:


"YOU WILL NEVER HEAR ANYTHING MORE ABOUT OZ, BECAUSE WE ARE NOW CUT OFF
FOREVER FROM ALL THE REST OF THE WORLD.  BUT TOTO AND I WILL ALWAYS
LOVE YOU AND ALL THE OTHER CHILDREN WHO LOVE US.

"DOROTHY GALE."


This seemed to me too bad, at first, for Oz is a very interesting
fairyland.  Still, we have no right to feel grieved, for we have had
enough of the history of the Land of Oz to fill six story books, and
from its quaint people and their strange adventures we have been able
to learn many useful and amusing things.

So good luck to little Dorothy and her companions.  May they live long
in their invisible country and be very happy!





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