: - - --- - - - º - - - a -- ------ - - - - - - - - -- - - º - T --~~~~ - a - : HE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN LIBRARIES º § S. WN § w § \\ º s S ºi ; N§ ºN N § W § w Y-8 º . . . . . . . . * * : * . . . . . . " ". . - - º, ‘.... .s. tº. ... . . .”. ... " is . . . . *** . . . ... : : ... ". º: “. . *... d ... . . . . . . . . . . º * : “. . . . *... ', ... . ºr ... . … . " "," J. : : ‘. . . . . 3" &;.…. † : º . . .*... º, . . . . . . ...&. rº. *. ‘. . . - d account of the- further adventures gy fle iſ g are ºr QW and Tin Woodman and also the stranqe ex- beriences of the Highly Maq- nifted Wogglé Duq, Jack Pumpkin- head, the Animated Saw-Horse- and the G umb , * the story £º sº A §equel to TheWizard º Oz By L.Frank Daum uthor of Tather Goose-His book, The Wizard of G)Z: The Magical Monarch of Mo; The Encharted Isle of Yew, The Life and Adventures s^ Canta Claus; Dot and Tot of Merryland cte, etc. TRICTURED PSY John R. Nei 11 The end-papers from life poses by the famous comedians , Montgomery and Stone. G. H. I. G. A. C. G.) THE REII.L.Y. & B RITTON Co . 1994. E- by º L. Frank Baum All rights reserved Published, July, 1904 - º =2~º - IVE gº 8 gºff=#E. . * * * ºf \ ^2|\, j\}. †-E EE -- | Fºº |AS Tº: |Hººs Author's Note \ Aº the publication of “The Won- derful Wizard of Oz” I began to receive letters from children, telling me of their pleasure in reading the story and asking me to “write something more” about the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman. At first I considered these little letters, frank and earnest though they were, in the light of pretty compliments; but the letters continued to come during succeeding months, and even years. Finally I promised one little girl, who made a long journey to see me and prefer her request,- and she is a “Dorothy,” by the way—that when a thousand little girls had written me a thou- sand little letters asking for another story of the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, I would write the book. Either little Dorothy was a fairy in disguise, and waved her magic wand, or the success of the stage production of “The Wizard of Oz’” made new friends for the story. For the thousand letters reached their desti- nation long since—and many more followed them. And now, although pleading guilty to a long delay, I have kept my promise in this book. L. FRANK BAUM. - To ºmoso, exceWew good, WeWow's on & evownexiv come &oms - AbwV& Cº. - N | Montgowevº cºwº, whose cycwew. £ºf personovons oW t\me, Z * Žº º O > © → O The Marvelous Powder of Life “What do you know?” “Well, that is hard to tell,” replied Jack. “For although I feel that I know a tremendous lot, I am not yet aware how much there is in the world to find out about. It will take me a little time to discover whether I am very wise or very foolish.” “To be sure,” said Mombi, thoughtfully. “But what are you going to do with him, now he is alive?” asked Tip, wondering. “I must think it over,” answered Mombi. “But we must get home at once, for it is growing dark. Help the Pumpkinhead to walk.” “Never mind me,” said Jack; “I can walk as well as you can. Haven't I got legs and feet, and aren't they jointed?” “Are they?” asked the woman, turning to Tip. “Of course they are; I made 'em myself,” re- turned the boy, with pride. So they started for the house; but when they reached the farm yard old Mombi led the pumpkin man to the cow stable and shut him up in an empty stall, fastening the door securely on the outside. - “I’ve got to attend to you, first,” she said, nod- ding her head at Tip. Hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for he 23 The Marvelous Powder of Life knew Mombi had a bad and revengeful heart, and would not hesitate to do any evil thing. They entered the house. It was a round, dome- shaped structure, as are nearly all the farm houses in the Land of Oz. Mombi bade the boy light a candle, while she put her basket in a cupboard and hung her cloak on a peg. Tip obeyed quickly, for he was afraid of her. After the candle had been lighted Mombi or- dered him to build a fire in the hearth, and while Tip was thus engaged the old woman ate her supper. When the flames began to crackle the boy came to her and asked a share of the bread and cheese; but Mombi refused him. “I’m hungry!” said Tip, in a sulky tone. “You won't be hungry long,” replied Mombi, with a grim look. * The boy didn't like this speech, for it sounded like a threat; but he happened to remember he had nuts in his pocket, so he cracked some of those and ate them while the woman rose, shook the crumbs from her apron, and hung above the fire a small black kettle. Then she measured out equal parts of milk and vinegar and poured them into the kettle. Next she 24 The Marvelous Powder of Life produced several packets of herbs and powders and began adding a portion of each to the contents of the kettle. Occasionally she would draw near the candle and read from a yellow paper the recipe of the mess she was concocting. As Tip watched her his uneasiness increased. “What is that for P” he asked. “For you,” returned Mombi, briefly. Tip wriggled around upon his stool and stared awhile at the kettle, which was beginning to bubble. Then he would glance at the stern and wrinkled features of the witch and wish he were any place but in that dim and smoky kitchen, where even the shadows cast by the candle upon the wall were enough to give one the horrors. So an hour passed away, during which the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the pot and the hissing of the flames. Finally, Tip spoke again. “Have I got to drink that stuff?” he asked, nodding toward the pot. “Yes,” said Mombi. “What’ll it do to me?” asked Tip. . “If it's properly made,” replied Mombi, “it will change or transform you into a marble statue.” Tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. 25 The Marvelous Powder of Life “I don't want to be a marble statue!” he protested. “That doesn’t matter; I want you to be one,” said the old woman, looking at him severely. “What use 'll I be then *" asked Tip. “There won't be any one to work for you.” “I’ll make the Pumpkinhead work for me,” said Mombi. Again Tip groaned. “Why don't you change me into a goat, or a chicken º’ he asked, anxiously. “You can't do any- thing with a marble statue.” - “Oh, yes; I can,” returned Mombi. “I’m going to plant a flower garden, next Spring, and I’ll put you in the middle of it, for an ornament. I wonder I haven’t thought of that before; you've been a bother to me for years.” At this terrible speech Tip felt the beads of per- spiration starting all over his body; but he sat still and shivered and looked anxiously at the kettle. “Perhaps it won't work,” he muttered, in a voice that sounded weak and discouraged. “Oh, I think it will,” answered Mombi, cheer- fully. “I seldom make a mistake.” Again there was a period of silence—a silence so long and gloomy that when Mombi finally lifted the kettle from the fire it was close to midnight. 26 “I DON'T WANT TO BE A MARBLE STATUE.” The Marvelous Powder of Life “You cannot drink it until it has become quite cold,” announced the old witch—for in spite of the law she had acknowledged practising witchcraft. “We must both go to bed now, and at daybreak I will call you and at once complete your transfor- mation into a marble statue.” With this she hobbled into her room, bearing the steaming kettle with her, and Tip heard her close and lock the door. The boy did not go to bed, as he had been com- manded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire. - ſº * 2 ſº ºr Sº he Flight of the Fugitives Tip reflected. “It’s a hard thing, to be a marble statue,” he thought, rebelliously, “and I’m not going to stand it. For years I’ve been a bother to her, she says; so she's going to get rid of me. Well, there's an easier way than to become a statue. No boy could have any fun forever standing in the middle of a flower garden! I'll run away, that's what I’ll do— and I may as well go before she makes me drink that nasty stuff in the kettle.” He waited until the snores of the old witch an- nounced she was fast asleep, and then he arose softly and went to the cupboard to find something to eat. 29 The Flight of the Fugitives “No use starting on a journey without food,” he decided, searching upon the narrow shelves. He found some crusts of bread; but he had to look into Mombi's basket to find the cheese she had brought from the village. While turning over the contents of the basket he came upon the pepper-box which contained the “Powder of Life.” “I may as well take this with me,” he thought, “or Mombi 'll be using it to make more mischief with.” So he put the box in his pocket, together with the bread and cheese. - Then he cautiously left the house and latched the door behind him. Outside both moon and stars shone brightly, and the night seemed peaceful and inviting after the close and ill-smelling kitchen. “I’ll be glad to get away,” said Tip, softly; “for I never did like that old woman. I wonder how I ever came to live with her.” He was walking slowly toward the road when a thought made him pause. “I don't like to leave Jack Pumpkinhead to the tender mercies of old Mombi,” he muttered. “And Jack belongs to me, for I made him—even if the old witch did bring him to life.” He retraced his steps to the cow-stable and opened the door of the stall where the pumpkin- 30 ！ ¿ “TIP LED HIM ALONG THE PATH.” The Flight of the Fugitives headed man had been left. Jack was standing in the middle of the stall, and by the moonlight Tip could see he was smiling just as jovially as ever. “Come on!” said the boy, beckoning. “Where to?” asked Jack. “You’ll know as soon as I do,” answered Tip, smiling sympathetically into the pumpkin face. “All we've got to do now is to tramp.” “Very well,” returned Jack, and walked awk- wardly out of the stable and into the moonlight. Tip turned toward the road and the man fol- lowed him. Jack walked with a sort of limp, and occasionally one of the joints of his legs would turn backward, instead of frontwise, almost causing him to tumble. But the Pumpkinhead was quick to notice this, and began to take more pains to step carefully; so that he met with few accidents. Tip led him along the path without stopping an instant. They could not go very fast, but they walked steadily; and by the time the moon sank away and the sun peeped over the hills they had travelled so great a distance that the boy had no reason to fear pursuit from the old witch. More- over, he had turned first into one path, and then into another, so that should anyone follow them it 32 The Flight of the Fugitives would prove very difficult to guess Fºº which way they had gone, or where to º seek them. º §sº Fairly satisfied that he had escaped ſº, ji —for a time, at least—being turned ſº S-P lº into a marble statue, the boy stopped his º º companion and seated himself º == upon a rock by the roadside. “Let’s have some break- fast,” he said. Jack Pumpkinhead watch- ed Tip curiously, but refused to join in the repast. “I don’t seem to be made the same way you are,” he said. “I know you are not,” re- turned Tip; “for I made you.” “Oh! Did you?"asked Jack. “Certainly. And put you together. And carved your ºº ſ !- eyes and nose and ears and N //~" \ º - at ſ/ º º The Flight of the Fugitives mouth,” said Tip, proudly. “And dressed you.” Jack looked at his body and limbs critically. “It strikes me you made a very good job of it,” he remarked. & “Just so-so,” replied Tip, modestly; for he began to see certain defects in the construction of his man. “If I'd known we were going to travel together I might have been a little more particular.” “Why, then,” said the Pumpkinhead, in a tone that expressed surprise, “you must be my creator— my parent—my father!!” “Or your inventor,” replied the boy with a laugh. “Yes, my son; I really believe I am!” “Then I owe you obedience,” continued the man, “and you owe me—support.” “That's it, exactly,” declared Tip, jumping up. “So let us be off.” “Where are we going?” asked Jack, when they had resumed their journey. “I’m not exactly sure,” said the boy; “but I believe we are headed South, and that will bring us, sooner or later, to the Emerald City.” “What city is that?” enquired the Pumpkinhead. “Why, it's the center of the Land of Oz, and the biggest town in all the country. I've never been there, myself, but I’ve heard all about its 34 The Flight of the Fugitives history. It was built by a mighty and wonderful Wizard named Oz, and everything there is of a green color—just as everything in this Country of the Gillikins is of a purple color.” “Is everything here purple?” asked Jack. “Of course it is. Can't you see?” returned the boy. “I believe I must be color-blind,” said the Pump- kinhead, after staring about him. “Well, the grass is purple, and the trees are purple, and the houses and fences are purple,” explained Tip. “Even the mud in the roads is purple. But in the Emerald City everything is green that is purple here. And in the Country of the Munchkins, over at the East, everything is blue; and in the South country of the Quadlings everything is red; and in the West country of the Winkies, where the Tin Woodman rules, everything is yellow.” “Oh!” said Jack. Then, after a pause, he asked: “Did you say a Tin Woodman rules the Winkies?” “Yes; he was one of those who helped Dorothy to destroy the Wicked Witch of the West, and the Winkies were so grateful that they invited him to become their ruler,-just as the people of the Emerald City invited the Scarecrow to rule them.” “Dear me!” said Jack. “I’m getting confused with all this history. Who is the Scarecrow?” 35 The Flight of the Fugitives “Another friend of Dorothy's,” replied Tip. “And who is Dorothy ’’’ “She was a girl that came here from Kansas, a place in the big, outside World. She got blown to the Land of Oz by a cyclone, and while she was here the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman accom- panied her on her travels.” “And where is she now?” inquired the Pump- kinhead. “Glinda the Good, who rules the Quadlings, sent her home again,” said the boy. “Oh. And what became of the Scarecrow?” “I told you. He rules the Emerald City,” answered Tip. “I thought you said it was ruled by a wonderful Wizard,” objected Jack, seeming more and more confused. “Well, so I did. Now, pay attention, and I'll explain it,” said Tip, speaking slowly and looking the smiling Pumpkinhead squarely in the eye. “Dorothy went to the Emerald City to ask the Wizard to send her back to Kansas; and the Scare- crow and the Tin Woodman went with her. But the Wizard couldn't send her back, because he wasn't so much of a Wizard as he might have been. And then they got angry at the Wizard, and threat- 36 The Flight of the Fugitives ened to expose him; so the Wizard made a big balloon and escaped in it, and no one has ever seen him since.” “Now, that is very interesting history,” said Jack, well pleased;” and I understand it perfectly—all but the explanation.” “I’m glad you do,” responded Tip. “After the Wizard was gone, the people of the Emerald City made His Majesty, the Scarecrow, their King; and I have heard that he became a very popular ruler.” “Are we going to see this queer King?” asked Jack, with interest. “I think we may as well,” replied the boy; “un- less you have something better to do.” “Oh, no, dear father,” said the Pumpkinhead. “I am quite willing to go wherever you please.” The boy, small and rather delicate in appearance, seemed somewhat embarrassed at being called “father” by the tall, awkward, pumpkinheaded man; but to deny the relationship would involve another long and tedious explanation; so he changed the subject by asking, abruptly: “Are you tired?” “Of course not!” replied the other. “But,” he continued, after a pause, “it is quite certain I shall wear out my wooden joints if I keep on walking.” Tip reflected, as they journeyed on, that this was true. He began to regret that he had not con- structed the wooden limbs more carefully and sub- stantially. Yet how could he ever have guessed 39 Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic that the man he had made merely to scare old Mombi with would be brought to life by means of a magical powder contained in an old pepper-box? So he ceased to reproach himself, and began to think how he might yet remedy the deficiencies of Jack's weak joints. While thus engaged they came to the edge of a wood, and the boy sat down to rest upon an old saw- horse that some wood- cutter had left there. “Why don't you sit down?” he asked the Pumpkinhead. « Won’t it strain joints?” inquired the other. “Of course not. It’ll rest them,” declared the boy. So Jack tried to sit down; but as soon as he bent his joints farther than usual they gave way alto- gether, and he came clatter- ing to the ground with such a crash that Tip feared he was entirely ruined. 40 Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic He rushed to the man, lifted him to his feet, straightened his arms and legs, and felt of his head to see if by chance it had become cracked. But Jack seemed to be in pretty good shape, after all, and Tip said to him: “I guess you’d better remain standing, hereafter. It seems the safest way.” “Very well, dear father; just as you say,” replied the smiling Jack, who had been in no wise con- fused by his tumble. Tip sat down again. Presently the Pumpkin- head asked: “What is that thing you are sitting on P’’ “Oh, this is a horse,” replied the boy, carelessly. “What is a horse?” demanded Jack. “A horse? Why, there are two kinds of horses,” returned Tip, slightly puzzled how to explain. “One kind of horse is alive, and has four legs and a head and a tail. And people ride upon its back.” “I understand,” said Jack, cheerfully. “That's the kind of horse you are now sitting on.” “No, it isn't,” answered Tip, promptly. “Why not? That one has four legs, and a head, and a tail.” Tip looked at the saw-horse more carefully, and found that the Pumpkinhead was right. The body 41 Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic had been formed from a tree-trunk, and a branch had been left sticking up at one end that looked very much like a tail. In the other end were two big knots that resembled eyes, and a place had been chopped away that might easily be mistaken for the horse's mouth. As for the legs, they were four straight limbs cut from trees and stuck fast into the body, being spread wide apart so that the saw-horse would stand firmly when a log was laid across it to be sawed. “This thing resembles a real horse more than I imagined,” said Tip, trying to explain. “But a real horse is alive, and trots and prances and eats oats, while this is nothing more than a dead horse, made of wood, and used to saw logs upon.” “If it were alive, wouldn't it trot, and prance, and eat oats?” inquired the Pumpkinhead. “It would trot and prance, perhaps; but it wouldn't eat oats,” replied the boy, laughing at the idea. “And of course it can’t ever be alive, be- cause it is made of wood.” “So am I,’” answered the man. Tip looked at him in surprise. “Why, so you are!” he exclaimed. “And the magic powder that brought you to life is here in my pocket.” 42 # H -- THE MAGICAL POWDER OF LIFE Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic He brought out the pepper box, and eyed it curiously. “I wonder,” said he, musingly, “if it would bring the saw-horse to life.” * “If it would,” returned Jack, calmly — for nothing seemed to surprise him—“I could ride on its back, and that would save my joints from wear- ing out” “I’ll try it!” cried the boy, jumping up. “But I wonder if I can remember the words old Mombi said, and the way she held her hands up.” He thought it over for a minute, and as he had watched carefully from the hedge every motion of the old witch, and listened to her words, he believed he could repeat exactly what she had said and done. So he began by sprinkling some of the magic Powder of Life from the pepper-box upon the body of the saw-horse. Then he lifted his left hand, with the little finger pointing upward, and said: “Weaugh!” “What does that mean, dear father?” asked Jack, curiously. - “I don’t know,” answered Tip. Then he lifted his right hand, with the thumb pointing upward, and said: “Teaugh!” “What's that, dear father?” inquired Jack. 44 Tip Makes an Experiment in Magic “It means you must keep quiet!” replied the boy, provoked at being interrupted at so important a moment. “How fast I am learning!” remarked the Pump- kinhead, with his eternal smile. Tip now lifted both hands above his head, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried in a loud voice: “Peaugh!” - Immediately the saw-horse moved, stretched its legs, yawned with its chopped-out mouth, and shook a few grains of the powder off its back. The rest of the powder seemed to have vanished into the body of the horse. “Good!” called Jack, while the boy looked on in astonishment. “You are a very clever sorcerer, dear father!!” - º - ----------------------- -- ------------ Awakening of the Saw-florse The Saw-Horse, finding himself alive, seemed even more astonished than Tip. He rolled his knotty eyes from side to side, taking a first wonder- ing view of the world in which he had now so im- portant an existence. Then he tried to look at himself; but he had, indeed, no neck to turn; so that in the endeavor to see his body he kept cir- cling around and around, without catching even a glimpse of it. His legs were stiff and awkward, for there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently he bumped against Jack Pumpkinhead and sent that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined the roadside. 47 The Awakening of the Sawhorse Tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as at the persistence of the Saw-Horse in prancing around in a circle; so he called out: “Whoal Whoa, there!” The Saw-Horse paid no attention whatever to this command, and the next instant brought one of his wooden legs down upon Tip's foot so forcibly that the boy danced away in pain to a safer dis- tance, from where he again yelled: “Whoal Whoa, I say!” Jack had now managed to raise himself to a sitting position, and he looked at the Saw-Horse with much interest. “I don’t believe the animal can hear you,” he remarked. “I shout loud enough, don't I?” answered Tip, angrily. “Yes; but the horse has no ears,” said the smiling Pumpkinhead. “Sure enough!” exclaimed Tip, noting the fact for the first time. “How, then, am I going to stop him ** But at that instant the Saw-Horse stopped him- self, having concluded it was impossible to see his own body. He saw Tip, however, and came close to the boy to observe him more fully. 48 The Awakening of the Sawhorse It was really comical to see the creature walk; for it moved the legs on its right side together, and those on its left side together, as a pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle. Tip patted it upon the head, and said “Good boy! Good boy!” in a coaxing tone; and the Saw- Horse pranced away to examine with its bulging eyes the form of Jack Pumpkinhead. “I must find a halter for him,” said Tip; and having made a search in his pocket he produced a roll of strong cord. Unwinding this, he approached the Saw-Horse and tied the cord .# its neck, afterward fastening the other end to a large tree. The Saw-Horse, not understanding the action, stepped backward and snapped the string easily; but it made no attempt to run away. “He’s stronger than I thought,” said the boy, “and rather obstinate, too.” “Why don't you make him some ears?” asked Jack. “Then you can tell him what to do.” “That's a splendid idea!” said Tip. “How did you happen to think of it?” - “Why, I didn't think of it,” answered the Pump- kinhead; “I didn't need to, for it's the simplest and easiest thing to do.” e 49 The Awakening of the Sawhorse So Tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a small tree. “I mustn't make them too big,” he said, as he whittled, “ or our horse would become a donkey.” “How is that?” inquired Jack, from the road- side. “Why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a donkey has bigger ears than a horse,” explained Tip. “Then, if my ears were longer, would I be a horse?” asked Jack. - “My friend, said Tip, gravely, “you'll never be anything but a Pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are.” “Oh,” returned Jack, nodding; “I think I un- derstand.” - “If you do, you're a wonder,” remarked the boy; “but there's no harm in thinking you understand. I guess these ears are ready now. Will you hold the horse while I stick them on P’’ “Certainly, if you'll help me up,” said Jack. So Tip raised him to his feet, and the Pumpkin- head went to the horse and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade and inserted the ears. “They make him look very handsome,” said Jack, admiringly. 50 The Awakening of the Sawhorse But those words, spoken close to the Saw-Horse, and being the first sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal that he made a bound forward and tumbled Tip on one side and Jack on the other. Then he continued to rush forward as if frightened by the clatter of his own foot-steps. “Whoa!” shouted Tip, picking himself up; “whoal you idiot—whoal” The Saw-Horse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just then it stepped a leg into a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically wa- ving its four legs in the air. Tip ran up to it. “You’re a nice sort of a horse, I must say!” he exclaimed. “Why didn't you stop when I yelled « whoa P’” - “Does ‘whoa" mean to stop?” asked the Saw- Horse, in a surprised voice, as it rolled its eyes up- ward to iock at the boy. “Of course it does,” answered Tip. “And a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn’t it?” continued the horse. - “To be sure; unless you step over it,” said Tip. “What a strange place this is,” the creature ex- claimed, as if amazed. “What am I doing here, anyway?” 51 º “Do KEEP THOSE LEGS STILL.” 52 The Awakening of the Sawhorse “Why, I've brought you to life,” answered the boy; “but it won't hurt you any, if you mind me and do as I tell you.” “Then I will do as you tell me,” replied the Saw-Horse, humbly. “But what happened to me, a moment ago? I don't seem to be just right, someway.” “You’re upside down,” explained Tip. “But just keep those legs still a minute and I’ll set you right side up again.” “How many sides have I?” asked the creature, wonderingly. “Several,” said Tip, briefly. “But do keep those legs still.” The Saw-Horse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that Tip, after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright. “Ah, I seem all right now,” said the queer animal, with a sigh. “One of your ears is broken,” Tip announced, after a careful examination. “I’ll have to make a new one.” - Then he led the Saw-Horse back to where Jack was vainly struggling to regain his feet, and after assisting the Pumpkinhead to stand upright Tip whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse's head. 53 The Awakening of the Sawhorse “Now,” said he, addressing his steed, “pay atten- tion to what I’m going to tell you. “Whoal' means to stop; “Get-Up!’ means to walk forward; “Trot!’ means to go as fast as you can. Understand?” “I believe I do,” returned the horse. “Very good. We are all going on a journey to the Emerald City, to see His Majesty, the Scarecrow; and Jack Pumpkinhead is going to ride on your back, so he won't wear out his joints.” “I don't mind,” said the Saw-Horse. “Anything that suits you suits me.” Then Tip assisted Jack to get upon the horse. “Hold on tight,” he cautioned, “ or you may fall off and crack your pumpkin head.” w “That would be horrible!” said Jack, with a shudder. “What shall I hold on to P’’ “Why, hold on to his ears,” replied Tip, after a moment's hesitation. “Don’t do that!” remonstrated the Saw-Horse; “for then I can’t hear.” That seemed reasonable, so Tip tried to think of something else. “I’ll fix it!” said he, at length. He went into the wood and cut a short length of limb from a young, stout tree. One end of this he sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of 54 (）.¿№é, №é º % º º º º Nº. §4. ſ º T º º º - - N. « DOES IT HURT : " ASKED THE BOY. The Awakening of the Sawhorse the Saw-Horse, just behind its head. Next he brought a piece of rock from the road and ham- mered the post firmly into the animal's back. “Stop! Stop!” shouted the horse; “you're jarring me terribly.” “Does it hurt?” asked the boy. “Not exactly hurt,” answered the animal; “but it makes me quite nervous to be jarred.” - “Well, it's all over now,” said Tip, encouragingly. “Now, Jack, be sure to hold fast to this post, and then you can't fall off and get smashed.” So Jack held on tight, and Tip said to the horse: “Get-up” The obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking from side to side as he raised his feet from the ground. Tip walked beside the Saw-Horse, quite content with this addition to their party. Presently he began to whistle. “What does that sound mean?” asked the horse. “Don’t pay any attention to it,” said Tip. “I’m just whistling, and that only means I'm pretty well satisfied.” “I’d whistle myself, if I could push my lips to- gether,” remarked Jack. “I fear, dear father, that in some respects I am sadly lacking.” 56 The Awakening of the Sawhorse After journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were following turned into a broad road- way, paved with yellow brick. By the side of the road Tip noticed a sign-post that read: “NINE MILES TO THE EMERALD CITY.” But it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. He led the Saw-Horse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the Pump- kinhead to alight. “I think I'll lay you upon the ground, overnight,” said the boy. “You will be safer that way.” “How about me?” asked the Saw-Horse. “It won't hurt you to stand,” replied Tip; “and, as you can't sleep, you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us.” Then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the Pumpkinhead, and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep. -;| …įjį};---- %%#|}|| } iſ.// M M - THE SAW-HORSE ROCKE AND ROLLED OVER THE FIELDS. -- - - º 3. §: nº/ =º ºl{E – º J. - IIImpl -- jeads Ri C. - to the Emerald City At daybreak Tip was awakened by the Pump- kinhead. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his bread and cheese. Having thus prepared for a new day the boy said: “Let us start at once. Nine miles is quite a distance, but we ought to reach the Emerald City by noon if no accidents happen.” So the Pumpkinhead was again perched upon the back of the Saw-Horse and the journey was re- sumed. Tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to take on a greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the great City where the Scarecrow ruled. 59 Jack Pumpkin he a d’s Ride The little party had traveled but a short two miles upon their way when the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift river. Tip was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man in a ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream. When the man reached the bank Tip asked: “Will you row us to the other side?” “Yes, if you have money,” returned the ferryman, whose face looked cross and disagreeable. “But I have no money,” said Tip. “None at all?” inquired the man. “None at all,” answered the boy. “Then I'll not break my back rowing you over,” said the ferryman, decidedly. “What a nice man!” remarked the Pumpkin- head, smilingly. The ferryman stared at him, but made no reply. Tip was trying to think, for it was a great disap- pointment to him to find his journey so suddenly brought to an end. “I must certainly get to the Emerald City,” he said to the boatman; “but how can I cross the river if you do not take me?” The man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh. “That wooden horse will float,” said he ; “and 60 §ºſ, Nº.w. º º ſººn- º º you can ride him across. As for the pumpkin- headed loon who accompanies you, let him sink or swim—it won't matter greatly which.” “Don’t worry about me,” said Jack, smiling pleasantly upon the crabbed ferryman; “I’m sure I ought to float beautifully.” Tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the Saw-Horse, who did not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. So the boy led it down into the water and climbed upon its back. Jack also waded in up to his knees and 61 Jack Pumpkin he ad's Ride grasped the tail of the horse so that he might keep his pumpkin head above the water. “Now,” said Tip, instructing the Saw-Horse, “if you wiggle your legs you will probably swim; and if you swim we shall probably reach the other side.” The Saw-Horse at once began to wiggle its legs, which acted as oars and moved the adventurers slowly across the river to the opposite side. So successful was the trip that presently they were climbing, wet and dripping, up the grassy bank. Tip's trouser-legs and shoes were thoroughly soaked; but the Saw-Horse had floated so perfectly that from his knees up the boy was entirely dry. As for the Pumpkinhead, every stitch of his gor- geous clothing dripped water. “The sun will soon dry us,” said Tip; “and, any- how, we are now safely across, in spite of the ferry- man, and can continue our journey.” “I didn't mind swimming, at all,” remarked the horse. “Nor did I,” added Jack. They soon regained the road of yellow brick, which proved to be a continuation of the road they had left on the other side, and then Tip once more mounted the Pumpkinhead upon the back of the Saw-Horse. 62 Jack Pumpkin he ad's Ride “If you ride fast,” said he, “the wind will help to dry your clothing. I will hold on to the horse's tail and run after you. In this way we all will be- come dry in a very short time.” “Then the horse must step lively,” said Jack. “I’ll do my best,” returned the Saw-Horse, cheerfully. Tip grasped the end of the branch that served as tail to the Saw-Horse, and called loudly: “Get-up!” The horse started at a good pace, and Tip fol- lowed behind. Then he decided they could go faster, so he shouted: “Trot!” Now, the Saw-Horse remembered that this word was the command to go as fast as he could; so he began rocking along the road at a tremendous pace, Jack Pumpkin he ad's Ride and Tip had hard work—running faster than he ever had before in his life—to keep his feet. Soon he was out of breath, and although he wanted to call “Whoal” to the horse, he found he could not get the word out of his throat. Then the end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing more than a dead branch, suddenly broke away, and the next minute the boy was rolling in the dust of the road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider dashed on and quickly disappeared in the distance. By the time Tip had picked himself up and cleared the dust from his throat so he could say “Whoal” there was no further need of saying it, for the horse was long since out of sight. So he did the only sensible thing he could do. He sat down and took a good rest, and afterward began walking along the road. “Some time I will surely overtake them,” he re- flected; “for the road will end at the gates of the Emerald City, and they can go no further than that.” Meantime Jack was holding fast to the post and the Saw-Horse was tearing along the road like a racer. Neither of them knew Tip was left behind, for the Pumpkinhead did not look around and the Saw-Horse couldn't. As he rode, Jack noticed that the grass and trees 64 Jack Pumpkin he a d’s Ride had become a bright emerald-green in color, so he guessed they were nearing the Emerald City even before the tall spires and domes came into sight. At length a high wall of green stone, studded thick with emeralds, loomed up before them; and fearing the Saw-Horse would not know enough to stop and so might smash them both against this wall, Jack ventured to cry “Whoal” as loud as he could. So suddenly did the horse obey that had it not been for his post Jack would have been pitched off head foremost, and his beautiful face ruined. “That was a fast ride, dear father!” he exclaimed; and then, hearing no reply, he turned around and discovered for the first time that Tip was not there. This apparent desertion puzzled the Pumpkin- head, and made him uneasy. And while he was wondering what had become of the boy, and what he ought to do next under such trying circumstan- ces, the gateway in the green wall opened and a Inan Came Out. This man was short and round, with a fat face that seemed remarkably good-natured. He was clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green hat upon his head and green spectacles over his eyes. Bowing before the Pumpkinhead he said: “I am the Guardian of the Gates of the Emerald 65 Jack Pumpkin he a d’s Ride City. May I inquire who you are, and what is your business?” “My name is Jack Pumpkinhead,” returned the other, smilingly; “but as to my business, I haven't the least idea in the world what it is.” The Guardian of the Gates looked surprised, and shook his head as if dissatisfied with the reply. “What are you, a man or a pumpkin P” he asked, politely. r “Both, if you please,” answered Jack. “And this wooden horse—is it alive?” questioned the Guardian. * The horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at Jack. Then it gave a prance and brought one leg down on the Guardian's toes. “Ouch!” cried the man; “I’m sorry I asked that question. But the answer is most convincing. Have you any errand, sir, in the Emerald City?” “It seems to me that I have,” replied the Pump- kinhead, seriously; “but I cannot think what it is. My father knows all about it, but he is not here.” “This is a strange affair—very strange!” declared the Guardian. “But you seem harmless. Folks do not smile so delightfully when they mean mischief.” “As for that,” said Jack, “I cannot help my smile, for it is carved on my face with a jack-knife.” 66 Jack Pumpkinhead's Ride “Well, come with me into my room,” resumed the Guardian, “and I will see what can be done for you.” So Jack rode the Saw-Horse through the gate- way into a little room built into the wall. The Guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very tall soldier—clothed in a green uniform—entered from the opposite door. This soldier carried a long green gun over his shoulder and had lovely green whiskers that fell quite to his knees. The Guard- ian at once addressed him, saying: “Here is a strange gentleman who doesn't know why he has come to the Emerald City, or what he wants. Tell me, what shall we do with him?” The Soldier with the Green Whiskers looked at Jack with much care and curiosity. Finally he shook his head so positively that little waves rippled down his whiskers, and then he said: “I must take him to His Majesty, the Scarecrow.” “But what will His Majesty, the Scarecrow, do with him P” asked the Guardian of the Gates. “That is His Majesty's business,” returned the soldier. “I have troubles enough of my own. All outside troubles must be turned over to His Majesty. So put the spectacles on this fellow, and I’ll take him to the royal palace.” 67 Jack Pumpkin he ad's Ride So the Guardian opened a big box of spectacles and tried to fit a pair to Jack's great round eyes. “I haven't a pair in stock that will really cover those eyes up,” said the little man, with a sigh; “and your head is so big that I shall be obliged to tie the spectacles on.” “But why need I wear spectacles?” asked Jack. “It's the fashion here,” said the Soldier, “and they will keep you from being blinded by the glitter and glare of the gorgeous Emerald City.” “Oh!” exclaimed Jack. “Tie them on, by all means. I don’t wish to be blinded.” “Nor Il” broke in the Saw-Horse; so a pair of green spectacles was quickly fastened over the bul- ging knots that served it for eyes. Then the Soldier with the Green Whiskers led them through the inner gate and they at once found themselves in the main street of the magnifi- cent Emerald City. Sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of the beautiful houses and the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds. Even the green mar. ble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a grand and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time. - However, the Pumpkinhead and the Saw-Horse, 68 …） ----…-……………….………… ….….……_ - - - ----…-- ---- - - … .…….…….….….… -- | ， ſae ſae |º} \\ |- SAID THE SOLDIER. -- “IT’S THE FASHION HERE, Jack Pumpkin he ad's Ride knowing nothing of wealth and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw through their green spectacles. They calmly followed after the green soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of green people who stared at them in surprise. When a green dog ran out and barked at them the Saw- Horse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg and sent the little animal howling into one of the houses; but nothing more serious than this happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace. The Pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight into the Scarecrow's pres- ence; but the soldier would not permit that. So Jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant led the Saw-Horse around to the rear while the Soldier with the Green Whiskers escorted the Pump- kinhead into the palace, by the front entrance. The stranger was left in a handsomely furnished waiting room while the soldier went to announce him. It so happened that at this hour His Majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of some- thing to do, so he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room. - Jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting the ruler of this magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs. But when he en- 69 Jack Pumpkin he a d’s Ride tered the room and saw for the first time His Majesty the Scarecrow seated upon his glittering throne, he stopped short in amazement. &== º E ſ: º e - flis majesty the Scarecrow I suppose every reader of this book knows what a scarecrow is; but Jack Pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at meeting the remarkable King of the Emerald City than by any other one experience of his brief life. His Majesty the Scarecrow was dressed in a suit of faded blue clothes, and his head was merely a small sack stuffed with straw, upon which eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to represent a face. The clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly or carelessly that his Majesty's legs and arms seemed more bumpy than was necessary. Upon his hands were gloves with long fingers, and these were padded with cot- ton. Wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch's 71 His Majesty the Scare crow coat and also from his neck and boot-tops. Upon his head he wore a heavy golden crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thought- ful expression to the painted face. Indeed, the crown alone betokened majesty; in all else the Scarecrow King was but a simple scarecrow— flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial. But if the strange appearance of his Majesty the Scarecrow seemed startling to Jack, no less won- derful was the form of the Pumpkinhead to the Scarecrow. The purple trousers and pink waist- coat and red shirt hung loosely over the wooden joints Tip had manufactured, and the carved face on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer considered life the jolliest thing imaginable. At first, indeed, His Majesty thought his queer visitor was laughing at him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not without reason that the Scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the wisest personage in the Land of Oz. He made a more careful examination of his visitor, and soon discovered that Jack's features were carved into a smile and that he could not look grave iſ he wished to. * The King was the first to speak. After regarding 72 Jack for some minutes he said, in a tone of wonder: “Where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?” “I beg your Majesty's pardon,” returned the Pumpkinhead; “but I do not understand you.” ºxº~. º -- - 3. § 7- His Majesty the Scare crow “What don't you understand?” asked the Scare- CTOW, “Why, I don't understand your language. You see, I came from the Country of the Gillikins, so that I am a foreigner.” “Ah, to be sure!” exclaimed the Scarecrow. “I myself speak the language of the Munchkins, which is also the language of the Emerald City. But you, I suppose, speak the language of the Pumpkinheads?” “Exactly so, your Majesty,” replied the other, bowing; “so it will be impossible for us to under- stand one another.” “That is unfortunate, certainly,” said the Scare- crow, thoughtfully. “We must have an interpreter.” “What is an interpreter?” asked Jack. “A person who understands both my language and your own. When I say anything, the interpre- ter can tell you what I mean; and when you say anything the interpreter can tell me what you mean. For the interpreter can speak both languages as well as understand them.” - “That is certainly clever,” said Jack, greatly pleased at finding so simple a way out of the diffi- culty. * So the Scarecrow commanded the Soldier with the Green Whiskers to search among his people 9 74 His Majesty the Scare crow until he found one who understood the language of the Gillikins as well as the language of the Emerald City, and to bring that person to him at once. When the Soldier had departed the Scarecrow said: “Won't you take a chair while we are waiting?” “Your Majesty forgets that I cannot understand you,” replied the Pumpkinhead. “If you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to do so.” The Scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair to a position behind the Pump- kinhead. Then he gave Jack a sudden push that sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awk- ward a fashion that he doubled up like a jack- knife, and had hard work to untangle himself. “Did you understand that sign?” asked His Majesty, politely. “Perfectly,” declared Jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head to the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that supported it. “You seem hastily made,” remarked the Scare- crow, watching Jack's efforts to straighten himself. “Not more so than your Majesty,” was the frank reply. - “There is this difference between us,” said the Scarecrow, “that whereas I will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend.” 75 “HE GAVE JACK A SUDDEN PUSH.” 76 His Majesty the Scare crow At this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand. She seemed very sweet and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green eyes and hair. A dainty green silk skirt reached to her knees, showing silk stockings embroidered with pea-pods, and green satin slippers with bunches of lettuce for decorations instead of bows or buckles. Upon her silken waist clover leaves were embroid- ered, and she wore a jaunty little jacket trimmed with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size. “Why, it's little Jellia Jamb!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, as the green maiden bowed her pretty head before him. “Do you understand the language of the Gillikins, my dear?” “Yes, your Majesty,” she answered, “for I was born in the North Country.” “Then you shall be our interpreter,” said the Scarecrow, “and explain to this Pumpkinhead all that I say, and also explain to me all that he says. Is this arrangement satisfactory?” he asked, turning toward his guest. “Very satisfactory indeed,” was the reply. “Then ask him, to begin with,” resumed the Scarecrow, turning to Jellia, “what brought him to the Emerald City.” But instead of this the girl, who had been staring at Jack, said to him ; 77 His Majesty the Scare crow “You are certainly a wonderful creature. Who made you?” “A boy named Tip,” answered Jack. “What does he say?” inquired the Scarecrow. “My ears must have deceived me. What did he say?” “He says that your Majesty's brains seem to have come loose,” replied the girl, demurely. The Scarecrow moved uneasily upon his throne, and felt of his head with his left hand. “What a fine thing it is to understand two dif- ferent languages,” he said, with a perplexed sigh. “Ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to being put in jail for insulting the ruler of the Emerald City. “I didn't insult you!” protested Jack, indignantly. “Tut—tut!” cautioned the Scarecrow; “wait until Jellia translates my speech. What have we got an interpreter for, if you break out in this rash way?” “All right, I’ll wait,” replied the Pumpkinhead, in a surly tone—although his face smiled as genially as ever. “Translate the speech, young woman.” “His Majesty inquires if you are hungry,” said Jellia. “Oh, not at all!” answered Jack, more pleasantly. “for it is impossible for me to eat.” “It's the same way with me,” remarked the Scare- crow. “What did he say, Jellia, my dear?” 78 His Majesty the Scare crow “He asked if you were aware that one of your eyes is painted larger than the other,” said the girl, mischievously. “Don’t you believe her, your Majesty,” cried Jack. - “Oh, I don’t,” answered the Scarecrow, calmly. Then, casting a sharp look at the girl, he asked: “Are you quite certain you understand the lan- guages of both the Gillikins and the Munchkins?” “Quite certain, your Majesty,” said Jellia Jamb, trying hard not to laugh in the face of royalty. “Then how is it that I seem to understand them myself?” inquired the Scarecrow. “Because they are one and the same !” declared the girl, now laughing merrily. “Does not your Majesty know that in all the land of Oz but one language is spoken?” “Is it indeed so P” cried the Scarecrow, much relieved to hear this; “then I might easily have been my own interpreter!” “It was all my fault, your Majesty,” said Jack, looking rather foolish, “I thought we must surely speak different languages, since we came from dif- ferent countries.” • - “This should be a warning to you never to think,” returned the Scarecrow, severely. “For 79 His Majesty the Scare crow unless one can think wisely it is better to remain a dummy—which you most certainly are.” “I am!—I surely am!” agreed the Pumpkinhead. “It seems to me,” continued the Scarecrow, more mildly, “that your manufacturer spoiled some good pies to create an indifferent man.” “I assure your Majesty that I did not ask to be created,” answered Jack. “Ah! It was the same in my case,” said the King, pleasantly. “And so, as we differ from all ordinary people, let us become friends.” “With all my heart!” exclaimed Jack. “What! Have you a heart?” asked the Scare- crow, surprised. “No; that was only imaginative—I might say, a figure of speech,” said the other. “Well, your most prominent figure seems to be a figure of wood; so I must beg you to restrain an imagination which, having no brains, you have no right to exercise,” suggested the Scarecrow, warningly. “To be sure!” said Jack, without in the least comprehending. His Majesty then dismissed Jellia Jamb and the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, and when they were gone he took his new friend by the arm and led him into the courtyard to play a game of quoits. 80 ©ș,} §§ 8 º Nº. - .* 81 s: É e 9 en. Jinjur s Army of Révolt Tip was so anxious to rejoin his man Jack and the Saw-Horse that he walked a full half the dis- tance to the Emerald City without stopping to rest. Then he discovered that he was hungry and the crackers and cheese he had provided for the jour- ney had all been eaten. While wondering what he should do in this emergency he came upon a girl sitting by the road- side. She wore a costume that struck the boy as being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being of emerald green and her skirt of four distinct colors—blue in front, yellow at the left side, red at the back and purple at the right side. Fastening 83 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt the waist in front were four buttons—the top one blue, the next yellow, a third red and the last purple. The splendor of this dress was almost barbaric; so Tip was fully justified in staring at the gown for some moments before his eyes were attracted by the 84 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt pretty face above it. Yes, the face was pretty enough, he decided; but it wore an expression of discontent coupled to a shade of defiance or audacity. While the boy stared the girl looked upon him calmly. A lunch basket stood beside her, and she held a dainty sandwich in one hand and a hard- boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident appetite that aroused Tip's sympathy. He was just about to ask a share of the luncheon when the girl stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. “There!” said she; “it is time for me to go. Carry that basket for me and help yourself to its contents if you are hungry.” Tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat, following for a time the strange girl without bother- ing to ask questions. She walked along before him with swift strides, and there was about her an air of decision and importance that led him fo suspect she was some great personage. Finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran up beside her and tried to keep pace with her swift footsteps—a very difficult feat, for she was much taller than he, and evidently in a hurry. “Thank you very much for the sandwiches,” said Tip, as he trotted along. “May I ask your name?” 85 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt “I am General Jinjur,” was the brief reply. “Oh!” said the boy, surprised. “What sort of a General?” “I command the Army of Revolt in this war,” answered the General, with unnecessary sharpness. “Oh!” he again exclaimed. “I didn't know there was a war.” “You were not supposed to know it,” she returned, “for we have kept it a secret; and con- sidering that our army is composed entirely of girls,” she added, with some pride, “it is surely a remarkable thing that our Revolt is not yet discovered.” “It is, indeed,” acknowledged Tip. “But where is your army?” “About a mile from here,” said General Jinjur. “The forces have assembled from all parts of the Land of Oz, at my express command. For this is the day we are to conquer His Majesty the Scarecrow, and wrest from him the throne. The Army of Revolt only awaits my coming to march upon the Emerald City.” “Well!” declared Tip, drawing a long breath, “this is certainly a surprising thing! May I ask why you wish to conquer His Majesty the Scarecrow?” “Because the Emerald City has been ruled by men long enough, for one reason,” said the girl. 86 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt “Moreover, the City glitters with beautiful gems, which might far better be used for rings, bracelets and necklaces; and there is enough money in the King's treasury to buy every girl in our Army a dozen new gowns. So we intend to conquer the City and run the government to suit ourselves.” Jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and decision that proved she was in earnest. “But war is a terrible thing,” said Tip, thought- fully. “This war will be pleasant,” replied the girl, cheerfully. - “Many of you will be slain!” continued the boy, in an awed voice. “Oh, no,” said Jinjur. “What man would oppose a girl, or dare to harm her? And there is not an ugly face in my entire Army.” Tip laughed. “Perhaps you are right,” said he. “But the Guardian of the Gate is considered a faithful Guardian, and the King's Army will not let the City be conquered without a struggle.” “The Army is old and feeble,” replied General Jinjur, scornfully. “His strength has all been used to grow whiskers, and his wife has such a temper that she has already pulled more than half of them 87 g Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt out by the roots. When the Wonderful Wizard reigned the Soldier with the Green Whiskers was a very good Royal Army, for people feared the Wiz- ard. But no one is afraid of the Scarecrow, so his Royal Army don't count for much in time of war.” After this conversation they proceeded some dis- tance in silence, and before long reached a large clearing in the forest where fully four hundred young women were assembled. These were laughing and talking together as gaily as if they had gathered for a picnic instead of a war of conquest. They were divided into four companies, and Tip noticed that all were dressed in costumes similar to that worn by General Jinjur. The only real dif- ference was that while those girls from the Munch- kin country had the blue strip in front of their skirts, those from the country of the Quadlings had the red strip in front; and those from the country of the Winkies had the yellow strip in front, and the Gillikin girls wore the purple strip in front. All had green waists, representing the Emerald City they intended to conquer, and the top button on each waist indicated by its color which country the wearer came from. The uniforms were jaunty and becoming, and quite effective when massed together. Tip thought this strange Army bore no weapons 88 whatever; but in this he was wrong. For each girl had stuck through the knot of her back hair two long, glittering knitting-needles. General Jinjur immediately mounted the stump of a tree and addressed her army. “Friends, fellow-citizens, and girls!” she said; “we are about to begin our great Revolt against the men of Oz! We march to conquer the Emerald City—to dethrone the Scarecrow King—to acquire thou- sands of gorgeous gems—to rifle the royal treasury—and to obtain power over our former oppressors!” “ Hurrah!” said those who had listened; but Tip thought most of the Army was too much engaged in chattering to pay attention to the words of the General. The command to march was now given, and the girls formed themselves into four bands, or com- panies, and set off with eager strides toward the Emerald City. 89 /N/ ſº Ž: t - --> jv × ( | \\ - . - | | *- \º ==- . i-ſº º 1–- *sº t º, T - --- --- - ~~ Isº *~. 2 gºº: ~~~~--- - - N - ºſ-S2-5->~~~ C. - Tº - ºº: ºss-- § º jºsº.3, 5 - ^2 - 5: -- -> - ) J ºr - ^ - - - - * - - ', * - *; ºw---- - - - - - - --- - Tºi -e- ~ tº- 2\\ - - l - ! § Sºfia *— N ~y - > | | - - - - -- - | | v2 - I -N - - #|-- - º - Se z - f - - Muſ/4 - - S ºn º == - 7.- - =- - -4- "AEA.… We == → - == - Fºº-- - - - - =T - - - - - - - - - - ºf-Es- The boy followed after them, carrying several baskets and wraps and packages which various members of the Army of Revolt had placed in his care. It was not long before they came to the green granite walls of the City and halted before the gateway. 90 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt The Guardian of the Gate at once came out and looked at them curiously, as if a circus had come to town. He carried a bunch of keys swung round his neck by a golden chain; his hands were thrust carelessly into his pockets, and he seemed to have no idea at all that the City was threatened by rebels. Speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said: “Good morning, my dears! What can I do for you?” “Surrender instantly!” answered General Jinjur, standing before him and frowning as terribly as her pretty face would allow her to: - “Surrender!” echoed the man, astounded. “Why, it's impossible. It's against the law! I never heard of such a thing in my life.” 91 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt “Still, you must surrender!” exclaimed the Gen- eral, fiercely. “We are revolting!” “You don’t look it,” said the Guardian, gazing from one to another, admiringly. “But we are!” cried Jinjur, stamping her foot, impatiently; “and we mean to conquer the Emer- ald City 1" “Good gracious!” returned the surprised Guard- ian of the Gates; “what a nonsensical idea! Go home to your mothers, my good girls, and milk the cows and bake the bread. Don't you know it's a dangerous thing to conquer a city?” “We are not afraid!” responded the General; and she looked so determined that it made the Guardian uneasy. So he rang the bell for the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, and the next minute was sorry he had done so. For immediately he was surrounded by a crowd of girls who drew the knitting-needles from their hair and began jabbing them at the Guardian with the sharp points dangerously near his fat cheeks and blinking eyes. The poor man howled loudly for mercy and made no resistance when Jinjur drew the bunch of keys from around his neck. Followed by her Army the General now rushed 92 - - §uſ ſº [. - - - a. ** - s. |/ % & º º º /// -- ſ', Nº. \º S Sº - || J/P == y -- | * -- 2- - * - → Q - - - 53-3 > * , N º Alſº KQ V ĺ º º Sº- Yº Y --tºº- - sº º/* GENERAL JINJUR AND HER ARMY CAPTURE THE CITY. 93 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt to the gateway, where she was confronted by the Royal Army of Oz—which was the other name for the Soldier with the Green Whiskers. tº “Halt!” he cried, and pointed his long gun full in the face of the leader. Some of the girls screamed and ran back, but General Jinjur bravely stood her ground and said, reproachfully: “Why, how now? Would you shoot a poor, defenceless girl?” “No,” replied the soldier; “for my gun isn't loaded.” « Not loaded?” « No; for fear of accidents. And I’ve forgotten where I hid the powder and shot to load it with. But if you'll wait a short time I'll try to hunt them up.” “Don’t trouble yourself,” said Jinjur, cheerfully. Then she turned to her Army and cried: “Girls, the gun isn't loaded!” “Hooray,” shrieked the rebels, delighted at this good news, and they proceeded to rush upon the Soldier with the Green Whiskers in such a crowd that it was a wonder they didn't stick the knitting-needles into one another. But the Royal Army of Oz was too much afraid 94 Gen. Jinjur's Army of Revolt of women to meet the onslaught. He simply turned about and ran with all his might through the gate and toward the royal palace, while General Jinjur and her mob flocked into the unprotected City. In this way was the Emerald City captured with- out a drop of blood being spilled. The Army of Revolt had become an Army of Conquerors' cº …” 2"– ––FT __- C Scarecrow Plans an escape Tip slipped away from the girls and followed swiftly after the Soldier with the Green Whiskers. The invading army entered the City more slowly, for they stopped to dig emeralds out of the walls and paving-stones with the points of their knitting- needles. So the Soldier and the boy reached the palace before the news had spread that the City was conquered. The Scarecrow and Jack Pumpkinhead were still playing at quoits in the courtyard when the game was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of the Royal Army of Oz, who came flying in without his hat or gun, his clothes in sad disarray and his long beard floating a yard behind him as he ran. h 97 The Scarecrow Plans an Escape “Tally one for me,” said the Scarecrow, calmly. “What's wrong, my man?” he added, addressing the Soldier. “Oh! your Majesty—your Majesty! The City is conquered!” gasped the Royal Army, who was all out of breath. “This is quite sudden,” said the Scarecrow. “But please go and bar all the doors and windows of the palace, while I show this Pumpkinhead how to throw a quoit.” The Soldier hastened to do this, while Tip, who had arrived at his heels, remained in the courtyard to look at the Scarecrow with wondering eyes. His Majesty continued to throw the quoits as coolly as if no danger threatened his throne, but the Pumpkinhead, having caught sight of Tip, ambled toward the boy as fast as his wooden legs would go. “Good afternoon, noble parent!” he cried, de- lightedly. “I’m glad to see you are here. That terrible Saw-Horse ran away with me.” “I suspected it,” said Tip. “Did you get hurt? Are you cracked at all?” “No, I arrived safely,” answered Jack, “and his Majesty has been very kind indeed to me.” At this moment the Soldier with the Green Whiskers returned, and the Scarecrow asked: 98 The Scarecrow Plans an Escape “By the way, who has conquered me?” “A regiment of girls, gathered from the four corners of the Land of Oz,” replied the Soldier, still pale with fear. “But where was my Standing Army at the time?” inquired his Majesty, looking at the Soldier, gravely. “Your Standing Army was running,” answered the fellow, honestly; “for no man could face the terrible weapons of the invaders.” “Well,” said the Scarecrow, after a moment's thought, “I don't mind much the loss of my throne, for it's a tiresome job to rule over the Emerald City. And this crown is so heavy that it makes my head ache. But I hope the Conquerors have no intention of injuring me, just because I happen to be the King.” “I heard them say,” remarked Tip, with some hesitation, “that they intend to make a rag carpet of your outside and stuff their sofa-cushions with your inside.” “Then I am really in danger,” declared his Majesty, positively, “and it will be wise for me to consider a means to escape.” - “Where can you go?” asked Jack Pumpkinhead. “Why, to my friend the Tin Woodman, who 99 *. №º！！！！! §§§§§ ---- №Ē№ …|----！№. .*¿¿.* <！ - ;&##- Ķ № himself their Em- and calls ies, ink was the answer. rules over the W “I am sure he will > * peror, ded by the enemy,” said 100 > C ~~ .5 > (L) -r + → -- E º 3 2 W .N|-|- -\~）. - MM·ſae \\\\\ \\· - （\\\\\\'\\ |\\ \\S RENOVATING HIS MAJESTY 130 A Nickel-Plated E m per or recapture the Emerald City and place the Scarecrow again upon his throne.” “I was sure you would help me,” remarked the Scarecrow in a pleased voice. “How large an army can you assemble?” “We do not need an army,” replied the Woodman. “We four, with the aid of my gleaming axe, are enough to strike terror into the hearts of the rebels.” “We five,” corrected the Pumpkinhead. “Five?” repeated the Tin Woodman. “Yes; the Saw-Horse is brave and fearless,” an- swered Jack, forgetting his recent quarrel with the quadruped. The Tin Woodman looked around him in a puz- zled way, for the Saw-Horse had until now remained quietly standing in a corner, where the Emperor had not noticed him. Tip immediately called the odd- looking creature to them, and it approached so awkwardly that it nearly upset the beautiful center- table and the engraved oil-can. “I begin to think,” remarked the Tin Woodman as he looked earnestly at the Saw-Horse, “that won- ders will never cease! How came this creature alive?” “I did it with a magic powder,” modestly asserted the boy; “and the Saw-Horse has been very useful to us.” 131 A Nickel-Plated Emperor “He enabled us to escape the rebels,” added the Scarecrow. “Then we must surely accept him as a comrade,” declared the Emperor. “A live Saw-Horse is a dis- tinct novelty, and should prove an interesting study. Does he know anything?” “Well, I cannot claim any great experience in life,” the Saw-Horse answered for himself; “but I seem to learn very quickly, and often it occurs to me that I know more than any of those around me.” “Perhaps you do,” said the Emperor; “for experi- ence does not always mean wisdom. But time is precious just now, so let us quickly make prepara- tions to start upon our journey.” The Emperor called his Lord High Chancellor and instructed him how to run the kingdom during his absence. Meanwhile the Scarecrow was taken apart and the painted sack that served him for a head was carefully laundered and restuffed with the brains originally given him by the great Wizard. His clothes were also cleaned and pressed by the Imperial tailors, and his crown polished and again sewed upon his head, for the Tin Woodman insisted he should not renounce this badge of royalty. The Scarecrow now presented a very respectable appear- ance, and although in no way addicted to vanity he 132 A Nickel-Plated Emper or was quite pleased with himself and strutted a trifle as he walked. While this was being done Tip mended the wooden limbs of Jack Pumpkinhead and made them stronger than before, and the Saw- Horse was also inspected to see if he was in good working order. Then bright and early the next morning they set out upon the return journey to the Emerald City, the Tin Woodman bearing upon his shoulder a gleaming axe and leading the way, while the Pump- kinhead rode upon the Saw-Horse and Tip and the Scarecrow walked upon either side to make sure that he didn't fall off or become damaged. 133 134 Mr- i. M Woggle Bug, T E. Now, General Jinjur—who, you will remember, commanded the Army of Revolt—was rendered very uneasy by the escape of the Scarecrow from the Emerald City. She feared, and with good reason, that if his Majesty and the Tin Woodman joined forces, it would mean danger to her and her entire army; for the people of Oz had not yet forgotten the deeds of these famous heroes, who had passed successfully through so many startling adventures. So Jinjur sent post-haste for old Mombi, the witch, and promised her large rewards if she would come to the assistance of the rebel army. Mombi was furious at the trick Tip had played upon her, as well as at his escape and the theft of the precious Powder of Life; so she needed no urging 135 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. to induce her to travel to the Emerald City to assist Jinjur in defeating the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, who had made Tip one of their friends. Mombi had no sooner arrived at the royal palace than she discovered, by means of her secret magic, that the adventurers were starting upon their jour- ney to the Emerald City; so she retired to a small room high up in a tower and locked herself in while she practised such arts as she could command to prevent the return of the Scarecrow and his com- panions. That was why the Tin Woodman presently stopped and said: “Something very curious has happened. I ought to know by heart every step of this journey, and yet I fear we have already lost our way.” “That is quite impossible!” protested the Scare- crow. “Why do you think, my dear friend, that we have gone astray?” “Why, here before us is a great field of sunflow- ers—and I never saw this field before in all my life.” At these words they all looked around, only to find that they were indeed surrounded by a field of tall stalks, every stalk bearing at its top a gigantic sunflower. And not only were these flowers almost 136 THE FACES LOOKED UPON THE ASTONISHED BAND WITH 137. —p. MOCKING SMILES. Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. blinding in their vivid hues of red and gold, but each one whirled around upon its stalk like a min- iature wind-mill, completely dazzling the vision of the beholders and so mystifying them that they knew not which way to turn. “It's witchcraft!” exclaimed Tip. While they paused, hesitating and wondering, the Tin Woodman uttered a cry of impatience and ad- vanced with swinging axe to cut down the stalks before him. But now the sunflowers suddenly stopped their rapid whirling, and the travelers plainly saw a girl's face appear in the center of each flower. These lovely faces looked upon the astonished band with mocking smiles, and then burst into a chorus of merry laughter at the dismay their appearance caused. “Stop! stop!” cried Tip, seizing the Woodman's arm; “they're alive! they’re girls!” At that moment the flowers began whirling again, and the faces faded away and were lost in the rapid revolutions. The Tin Woodman dropped his axe and sat down upon the ground. “It would be heartless to chop down those pretty creatures,” said he, despondently; “and yet I do not know how else we can proceed upon our way.” “They looked to me strangely like the faces of 137 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. the Army of Revolt,” mused the Scarecrow. “But I cannot conceive how the girls could have followed us here so quickly.” “I believe it's magic,” said Tip, positively, “and that someone is playing a trick upon us. I’ve known old Mombi do things like that before. Probably it's nothing more than an illusion, and there are no sunflowers here at all.” “Then let us shut our eyes and walk forward,” suggested the Woodman. “Excuse me,” replied the Scarecrow. “My eyes are not painted to shut. Because you happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine we are all built in the same way.” “And the eyes of the Saw-Horse are knot eyes,” said Jack, leaning forward to examine them. “Nevertheless, you must ride quickly forward,” commanded Tip, “and we will follow after you and so try to escape. My eyes are already so dazzled that I can scarcely see.” So the Pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and Tip grasped the stub tail of the Saw-Horse and fol. lowed with closed eyes. The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman brought up the rear, and before they had gone many yards a joyful shout from Jack an- nounced that the way was clear before them. 138 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. Then all paused to look backward, but not a trace of the field of sunflowers remained. More cheerfully, now, they proceeded upon their journey; but old Mombi had so changed the ap- pearance of the landscape that they would surely have been lost had not the Scarecrow wisely con- cluded to take their direction from the sun. For no witch-craft could change the course of the sun, and it was therefore a safe guide. However, other difficulties lay before them. The Saw-Horse stepped into a rabbit hole and fell to the ground. The Pumpkinhead was pitched high into the air, and his history would probably have ended at that exact moment had not the Tin Woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin as it descended and saved it from injury. **, Tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and re- placed Jack upon his feet. But the Saw-Horse did not escape so easily. For when his leg was pulled from the rabbit hole it was found to be broken short off, and must be replaced or repaired before he could go a step farther. “This is quite serious,” said the Tin Woodman. “If there were trees near by I might soon manufac- ture another leg for this animal; but I cannot see even a shrub for miles around.” 139 THE TIN WOODMAN SKILLFULLY CAUGHT THE PUMPKIN 140 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. “And there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land of Oz,” added the Scarecrow, dis- consolately. “Then what shall we do?” enquired the boy. “I suppose I must start my brains working,” re- plied his Majesty the Scarecrow; “for experience has taught me that I can do anything if I but take time to think it out.” “Let us all think,” said Tip; “and perhaps we shall find a way to repair the Saw-Horse.” So they sat in a row upon the grass and began to think, while the Saw-Horse occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb. “Does it hurt?” asked the Tin Woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice. “Not in the least,” returned the Saw-Horse; “but my pride is injured to find that my anatomy is so brittle.” For a time the little group remained in silent thought. Presently the Tin Woodman raised his head and looked over the fields. “What sort of creature is that which approaches us?” he asked, wonderingly. The others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward them the most extraordinary object they had ever beheld. It advanced quickly and - 141 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. noiselessly over the soft grass and in a few minutes stood before the adventurers and regarded them with an astonishment equal to their own. The Scarecrow was calm under all circumstances. “Good morning!” he said, politely. The stranger removed his hat with a flourish, bowed very low, and then responded: “Good morning, one and all. I hope you are, as an aggregation, enjoying excellent health. Permit me to present my card.” With this courteous speech it extended a card toward the Scarecrow, who accepted it, turned it over and over, and then handed it with a shake of his head to Tip. The boy read aloud: “MR. H. M. WOGGLE-BUG, T. E.” 142 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. “Dear me!” ejaculated the Pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently. “How very peculiar!” said the Tin Woodman. Tip's eyes were round and wondering, and the Saw-Horse uttered a sigh and turned away its head. “Are you really a Woggle-Bug?” enquired the Scarecrow. “Most certainly, my dear sir!” answered the stranger, briskly. “Is not my name upon the card?” “It is,” said the Scarecrow. “But may I ask what ‘H. M.’ stands for?” “H. M.’ means Highly Magnified,” returned the Woggle-Bug, proudly. “Oh, I see.” The Scarecrow viewed the stranger critically. “And are you, in truth, highly magnified?” “Sir,” said the Woggle-Bug, “I take you for a gentleman of judgment and discernment. Does it not occur to you that I am several thousand times greater than any Woggle-Bug you ever saw before? Therefore it is plainly evident that I am Highly Magnified, and there is no good reason why you should doubt the fact.” “Pardon me,” returned the Scarecrow. “My brains are slightly mixed since I was last laundered. Would it be improper for me to ask, also, what the ‘T. E. at the end of your name stands for?” 143 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. “Those letters express my degree,” answered the Woggle-Bug, with a condescending smile. “To be more explicit, the initials mean that I am Thoroughly Educated.” “Oh!” said the Scarecrow, much relieved. Tip had not yet taken his eyes off this wonderful personage. What he saw was a great, round, bug- like body supported upon two slender legs which ended in delicate feet—the toes curling upward. The body of the Woggle-Bug was rather flat, and judging from what could be seen of it was of a glis- tening dark brown color upon the back, while the front was striped with alternate bands of light brown and white, blending together at the edges. Its arms were fully as slender as its legs, and upon a rather long neck was perched its head—not unlike the head of a man, except that its nose ended in a curl- ing antenna, or “feeler,” and its ears from the upper points bore antennae that decorated the sides of its head like two miniature, curling pig tails. It must be admitted that the round, black eyes were rather bulging in appearance; but the expression upon the Woggle-Bug's face was by no means unpleasant. For dress the insect wore a dark-blue swallow- tail coat with a yellow silk lining and a flower in the button-hole; a vest of white duck that stretched 144 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. tightly across the wide body; knickerbockers of fawn-colored plush, fastened at the knees with gilt buckles; and, perched upon its small head, was jauntily set a tall silk hat. Standing upright before our amazed friends the Woggle-Bug appeared to be fully as tall as the Tin Woodman; and surely no bug in all the Land of Oz had ever before attained so enormous a size. “I confess,” said the Scarecrow, “that your abrupt appearance has caused me surprise, and no doubt has startled my companions. I hope, however, that this circumstance will not distress you. We shall probably get used to you in time.” “Do not apologize, I beg of you!” returned the Woggle-Bug, earnestly. “It affords me great pleas- ure to surprise people; for surely I cannot be classed with ordinary insects and am entitled to both curi- osity and admiration from those I meet.” “You are, indeed,” agreed his Majesty. “If you will permit me to seat myself in your august company,” continued the stranger, “I will gladly relate my history, so that you will be better able to comprehend my unusual—may I say re- markable?—appearance.” - “You may say what you please,” answered the Tin Woodman, briefly. 145 Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T. E. So the Woggle-Bug sat down upon the grass, facing the little group of wanderers, and told them the following story: 146 “It is but honest that I should acknowledge at the beginning of my recital that I was born an or— dinary Woggle-Bug,” began the creature, in a frank and friendly tone. “Knowing no better, I used my arms as well as my legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid among the roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects smaller than myself to feed upon. “The chill nights rendered me stiff and motion- less, for I wore no clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new life and restored me to activity. A horrible existence is this, but you must remember it is the regularly ordained existence of Woggle-Bugs, as well as of many other tiny crea- tures that inhabit the earth. - “But Destiny had singled me out, humble though I was, for a grander fate! One day I crawled near 147 A Highly Magnified History to a country school house, and my curiosity being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, I made bold to enter and creep along a crack between two boards until I reached the far end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat the master at his desk. “No one noticed so small a creature as a Woggle- Bug, and when I found that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine, I resolved to establish my future home beside it. So I found a charming nest between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months. “Professor Nowitall is, doubtless, the most famous scholar in the land of Oz, and after a few days I began to listen to the lectures and discourses he gave his pupils. Not one of them was more atten- tive than the humble, unnoticed Woggle-Bug, and I acquired in this way a fund of knowledge that I will myself confess is simply marvelous. That is why I place T. E.'—Thoroughly Educated—upon my cards; for my greatest pride lies in the fact that the world cannot produce another Woggle-Bug with a tenth part of my own culture and erudition.” “I do not blame you,” said the Scarecrow. “Ed- ucation is a thing to be proud of. I’m educated myself. The mess of brains given me by the Great 148 A Highly Magnified History Wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled.” “Nevertheless,” interrupted the Tin Woodman, “a good heart is, I believe, much more desirable than education or brains.” “To me,” said the Saw-Horse, “a good leg is more desirable than either.” “Could seeds be considered in the light of brains?” enquired the Pumpkinhead, abruptly. “Keep quiet!” commanded Tip, sternly. “Very well, dear father,” answered the obedient Jack. The Woggle-Bug listened patiently—even re- spectfully—to these remarks, and then resumed his story. “I must have lived fully three years in that se- cluded school-house hearth,” said he, “drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of limpid knowl- edge before me.” “Quite poetical,” commented the Scarecrow, nodding his head approvingly. - “But one day,” continued the Bug, “a marvelous cir- cumstance occurred that al- tered my very existence and brought me to my present pinnacle of greatness. The 149 “Caught me between his thumb ... ". . . and forefinger.” A Highly Magnified History Professor discovered me in the act of crawling across the hearth, and before I could escape he had caught me between his thumb and forefinger. “My dear children, said he, “I have captured a Woggle-Bug—a very rare and interesting specimen. Do any of you know what a Woggle-Bug is?’ “No!’ yelled the scholars, in chorus. “Then, said the Professor, ‘I will get out my famous magnifying-glass and throw the insect upon a screen in a highly-magnified condition, that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction and become acquainted with its habits and manner of life.’ “He then brought from a cupboard a most curi- ous instrument, and before I could realize what had happened I found myself thrown upon a screen in a highly-magnified state—even as you now behold me. “The students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the sill of an open window where they could see more plainly. “Behold!’ cried the Professor, in a loud voice, ‘this highly-magnified Woggle-Bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!’ “Being Thoroughly Educated, and knowing what is required of a cultured gentleman, at this juncture I stood upright and, placing my hand upon my 150 7% Aſ <==> ſºmºſºſºzº: se < Seae Öº º % III. . |} -- º - - M0 RHEIN «THE STUDENTS STOOD UP ON THEIR STOOLS.” F. w | 151 A Highly Magnified History bosom, made a very polite bow. My action, being unexpected, must have startled them, for one of the little girls perched upon the window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the window, drawing her companion with her as she disappeared. “The Professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed away through the door to see if the poor children were injured by the fall. The scholars followed after him in a wild mob, and I was left alone in the school-room, still in a Highly-Magnified state and free to do as I pleased. “It immediately occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to escape. I was proud of my great size, and realized that now I could safely travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would make me a fit associate for the most learned person I might chance to meet. “So, while the Professor picked the little girls— who were more frightened than hurt—off the ground, and the pupils clustered around him closely grouped, I calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a corner, and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near.” “Wonderful!” exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, ad- miringly. “It was, indeed,” agreed the Woggle-Bug, “I 152 A Highly Magnified History have never ceased to congratulate myself for escaping while I was Highly Magnified; for even my excess- ive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had I remained a tiny, insignificant insect.” “I didn't know before,” said Tip, looking at the 153 A Highly Magnified History Woggle-Bug with a puzzled expression, “that insects wore clothes.” “Nor do they, in their natural state,” returned the stranger. “But in the course of my wanderings I had the good fortune to save the ninth life of a tailor—tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably know. The fellow was exceedingly grate- ful, for had he lost that ninth life it would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to furnish me with the stylish costume I now wear. It fits very nicely, does it not?” and the Woggle-Bug stood up and turned himself around slowly, that all might examine his person. “He must have been a good tailor,” said the Scarecrow, somewhat enviously. “He was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate,” ob- served Nick Chopper. “But where were you going, when you met us?” Tip asked the Woggle-Bug. “Nowhere in particular,” was the reply, “although it is my intention soon to visit the Emerald City and arrange to give a course of lectures to select audiences on the “Advantages of Magnification.’” “We are bound for the Emerald City now,” said the Tin Woodman; “so, if it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company.” 2 154 A Highly Magnified History The Woggle-Bug bowed with profound grace. “It will give me great pleasure,” said he, “to accept your kind invitation; for nowhere in the Land of Oz could I hope to meet with so congenial a company.” “That is true,” acknowledged the Pumpkinhead. “We are quite as congenial as flies and honey.” “But—pardon me if I seem inquisitive—are you not all rather—ahem l—rather unusual?” asked the Woggle-Bug, looking from one to another with un- concealed interest. “Not more so than yourself,” answered the Scarecrow. “Everything in life is unusual until you get accustomed to it.” “What rare philosophy!” exclaimed the Woggle- Bug, admiringly. “Yes; my brains are working well today,” admit. ted the Scarecrow, an accent of pride in his voice. “Then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend our steps toward the Emerald City,” suggested the magnified one. “We can’t,” said Tip. “The Saw-Horse has broken a leg, so he can't bend his steps. And there is no wood around to make him a new limb from. And we can’t leave the horse behind because the Pumpkinhead is so stiffin hisjoints that he has to ride.” 155 A Highly Magnified History “How very unfortunate!” cried the Woggle-Bug. Then he looked the party over carefully and said: “If the Pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a leg for the horse that carries him I judge that both are made of wood.” “Now, that is what I call real cleverness,” said the Scarecrow, approvingly. “I wonder my brains did not think of that long ago! Get to work, my dear Nick, and fit the Pumpkinhead's leg to the Saw-Horse.” Jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he submitted to having his left leg amputated by the Tin Woodman and whittled down to fit the left leg of the Saw-Horse. Nor was the Saw-Horse especially pleased with the operation, either; for he growled a good deal about being “butchered,” as he called it, and afterward declared that the new leg was a disgrace to a respectable Saw-Horse. “I beg you to be more careful in your speech,” said the Pumpkinhead, sharply. “Remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing.” “I cannot forget it,” retorted the Saw-Horse, “for it is quite as flimsy as the rest of your person.” “Flimsyl me flimsy!” cried Jack, in a rage. “How dare you call me flimsy P” “Because you are built as absurdly as a jumping- 156 A Highly Magnified History jack,” sneered the horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. “Even your head won't stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking backwards or forward!” “Friends, I entreat you not to quarrell ” pleaded the Tin Woodman, anxiously. “As a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so let us bear with each others' faults.” “An excellent suggestion,” said the Woggle-Bug, approvingly. “You must have an excellent heart, my metallic friend.” “I have,” returned Nick, well pleased. “My heart is quite the best part of me. But now let us start upon our journey.” They perched the one-legged Pumpkinhead upon the Saw-Horse, and tied him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off. And then, following the lead of the Scarecrow, they all advanced in the direction of the Emerald City. - 157 4. ſº º @ §§ º & 3% Old N ombi indulges in Witchcraft They soon discovered that the Saw-Horse limped, for his new leg was a trifle too long. So they were obliged to halt while the Tin Woodman chopped it down with his axe, after which the wooden steed paced along more comfortably. But the Saw-Horse was not entirely satisfied, even yet. “It was a shame that I broke my other leg!” it growled. “On the contrary,” airily remarked the Woggle- Bug, who was walking alongside, “you should con- sider the accident most fortunate. For a horse is never of much use until he has been broken.” “I beg your pardon,” said Tip, rather provoked, for he felt a warm interest in both the Saw-Horse and his man Jack; “but permit me to say that your joke is a poor one, and as old as it is poor.” 159 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft “Still, it is a joke,” declared the Woggle-Bug, firmly, “and a joke derived from a play upon words is considered among educated people to be emi- nently proper.” “What does that mean?” enquired the Pumpkin- head, stupidly. “It means, my dear friend,” explained the Wog- gle-Bug, “that our language contains many words having a double meaning; and that to pronounce a joke that allows both meanings of a certain word, proves the joker a person of culture and refinement, who has, moreover, a thorough command of the language.” “I don't believe that,” said Tip, plainly; “any- body can make a pun.” “Not so,” rejoined the Woggle-Bug, stiffly. “It requires education of a high order. Are you edu- cated, young sir?” “Not especially,” admitted Tip. “Then you cannot judge the matter. I myself am Thoroughly Educated, and I say that puns dis- play genius. For instance, were I to ride upon this Saw-Horse, he would not only be an animal—he would become an equipage. For he would then be a horse-and-buggy.” At this the Scarecrow gave a gasp and the Tin 160 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft Woodman stopped short and looked reproachfully at the Woggle-Bug. At the same time the Saw- Horse loudly snorted his derision; and even the Pumpkinhead put up his hand to hide the smile which, because it was carved upon his face, he could not change to a frown. But the Woggle-Bug strutted along as if he had made some brilliant remark, and the Scarecrow was obliged to say: “I have heard, my dear friend, that a person can become over-educated; and although I have a high respect for brains, no matter how they may be ar- ranged or classified, I begin to suspect that yours are slightly tangled. In any event, I must beg you to restrain your superior education while in our so- ciety.” “We are not very particular,” added the Tin Woodman; “and we are exceedingly kind hearted. But if your superior culture gets leaky again—” He did not complete the sentence, but he twirled his gleaming axe so carelessly that the Woggle-Bug looked frightened, and shrank away to a safe distance. The others marched on in silence, and the Highly- Magnified one, after a period of deep thought, said in an humble voice: -- “I will endeavor to restrain myself.” 161 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft “That is all we can expect,” returned the Scare- crow, pleasantly; and good nature being thus happily restored to the party, they proceeded upon their way. When they again stopped to allow Tip to rest— the boy being the only one that seemed to tire— the Tin Woodman noticed many small, round holes in the grassy meadow. “This must be a village of the Field Mice,” he said to the Scarecrow. “I wonder if my old friend, the Queen of the Mice, is in this neighborhood.” “If she is, she may be of great service to us,” answered the Scarecrow, who was impressed by a sudden thought. “Seeif you can call her, mydear Nick.” So the Tin Woodman blew a shrill note upon a silver whistle that hung around his neck, and pres- ently a tiny grey mouse popped from a near-by hole and advanced fearlessly toward them. For the Tin Woodman had once saved her life, and the Queen of the Field Mice knew he was to be trusted. “Good day, your Majesty,” said Nick, politely addressing the mouse; “I trust you are enjoying good health?” “Thank you, I am quite well,” answered the Queen, demurely, as she sat up and displayed the tiny golden crown upon her head. “Can I do any- thing to assist my old friends?” 162 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft “You can, indeed,” replied the Scarecrow, eagerly. “Let me, I intreat you, take a dozen of your sub- jects with me to the Emerald City.” “Will they be injured in any way?” asked the Queen, doubtfully. “I think not,” replied the Scarecrow. “I will carry them hidden in the straw which stuffs my body, and when I give them the signal by unbutton- ing my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper home again as fast as they can. By doing this they will assist me to regain my throne, which the Army of Revolt has taken from me.” “In that case,” said the Queen, “I will not re- fuse your request. Whenever you are ready, I will call twelve of my most intelligent subjects.” “I am ready now,” returned the Scarecrow. Then he lay flat upon the ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with which he was stuffed. . The Queen uttered a little piping call, and in an instant a dozen pretty field mice had emerged from their holes and stood before their ruler, awaiting her orders. What the Queen said to them none of our trav- elers could understand, for it was in the mouse lan- guage; but the field mice obeyed without hesitation, 163 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft running one after the other to the Scarecrow and hiding themselves in the straw of his breast. When all of the twelve mice had thus concealed themselves, the Scarecrow buttoned his jacket se- curely and then arose and thanked the Queen for her kindness. “One thing more you might do to serve us,” sug- gested the Tin Woodman; “and that is to run ahead and show us the way to the Emerald City. For some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it.” “I will do that gladly,” returned the Queen. “Are you ready?” The Tin Woodman looked at Tip. “I’m rested,” said the boy. “Let us start.” Then they resumed their journey, the little grey Queen of the Field Mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near, when away she would dart again. Without this unerring guide the Scarecrow and his comrades might never have gained the Emerald City; for many were the obstacles thrown in their way by the arts of old Mombi. Yet not one of the obstacles really existed—all were cleverly contrived deceptions. For when they came to the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way the 164 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft little Queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in safety; and our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water. Again, a high wall of granite towered high above their heads and opposed their advance. But the grey Field Mouse walked straight through it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed it. Afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow Tip to rest, they saw forty roads branching off from their feet in forty different directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty wheel, first in one direction and then in the other, completely bewildering their vision. But the Queen called for them to follow her and darted off in a straight line; and when they had gone a few paces the whirling pathways vanished and were seen no more. Mombi's last trick was most fearful of all. She sent a sheet of crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first time the Scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly. “If that fire reaches me I will be gone in no time!” said he, trembling until his straw rattled. “It's the most dangerous thing I ever encountered.” “I’m off, too!” cried the Saw-Horse, turning and 165 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft prancing with agitation; “for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings.” “Is fire dangerous to pumpkins?” asked Jack, fearfully. “You’ll be baked like a tart—and so will Il’’ N- \\ } % º %2. Tº * º: - ~ -- º tº- ~~ º -> s M2- Fº -- sº--" º Šº - - |- - - /ºr - - … --> º T º / -- - - ºf ” - º º wº-d answered the Woggle-Bug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster. But the Tin Woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede by a few sensible words. “Look at the Field Mouse!” he shouted. “The fire does not burn her in the least. In fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception.” 166 Old Mombi Indulges in Witchcraft Indeed, to watch the little Queen march calmly through the advancing flames restored courage to every member of the party, and they followed her without being even scorched. “This is surely a most extraordinary adventure,” said the Woggle-Bug, who was greatly amazed; “for it upsets all the Natural Laws that I heard Pro- fessor Nowitall teach in the school-house.” “Of course it does,” said the Scarecrow, wisely. “All magic is unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared and avoided. But I see before us the gates of the Emerald City, so I imagine we have now overcome all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us.” Indeed, the walls of the City were plainly visible, and the Queen of the Field Mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to bid them good-bye. “We are very grateful to your Majesty for your kind assistance,” said the Tin Woodman, bowing before the pretty creature. “I am always pleased to be of service to my friends,” answered the Queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home. 167 168 2 - 4s - 22 tº \-> -> T-Piºners of the Queen Approaching the gateway of the Emerald City the travelers found it guarded by two girls of the Army of Revolt, who opposed their entrance by drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to prod the first that came near. But the Tin Woodman was not afraid. “At the worst they can but scratch my beautiful nickel-plate,” he said. “But there will be no worst, for I think I can manage to frighten these absurd soldiers very easily. Follow me closely, all of you!” Then, swinging his axe in a great circle to right and left before him, he advanced upon the gate, and the others followed him without hesitation. The girls, who had expected no resistance what- ever, were terrified by the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so that our 169 The Prisoners of the Queen travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the green marble pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace. “At this rate we will soon have your Majesty upon the throne again,” said the Tin Woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards. “Thank you, friend Nick,” returned the Scare- crow, gratefully. “Nothing can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe.” As they passed the rows of houses they saw through the open doors that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat around in groups, gossiping and laughing. “What has happened?” the Scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along the sidewalk. “Why, we've had a revolution, your Majesty— as you ought to know very well,” replied the man; “and since you went away the women have been running things to suit themselves. I’m glad you have decided to come back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wear- ing out the strength of every man in the Emerald City.” “Hm!” said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. “If it 170 The Prisoners of the Queen is such hard work as you say, how did the women manage it so easily?” “I really do not know,” replied the man, with a deep sigh. “Perhaps the women are made of cast- 1IOIle No movement was made, as they passed along the street, to oppose their progress. Several of the women stopped their gossip long enough to cast curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn away with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. And when they met with several girls belonging to the Army of Revolt, those soldiers, instead of being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of the way and allowed them to advance without protest. This action rendered the Scarecrow uneasy. “I’m afraid we are walking into a trap,” said he. “Nonsense!” returned Nick Chopper, confidently; “the silly creatures are conquered already!” But the Scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed doubt, and Tip said: “It's too easy, altogether. Look out for trouble ahead.” “I will,” returned his Majesty. p Unopposed they reached the royal palace and marched up the marble steps, which had once been 171 172 - - - - – - - - - - - - “IT’S TOO EASY, ALTOGETHER.” The Prisoners of the Queen thickly encrusted with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels had been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the Army of Revolt. And so far not a rebel barred their way. Through the arched hallways and into the mag- nificent throne room marched the Tin Woodman and his followers, and here, when the green silken curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight. Seated within the glittering throne was General Jinjur, with the Scarecrow's second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in her right hand. A box of caramels, from which she was eating, rested in her lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal surroundings. The Scarecrow stepped forward and confronted her, while the Tin Woodman leaned upon his axe and the others formed a half-circle back of his Majesty's person. “How dare you sit in my throne?” demanded the Scarecrow, sternly eyeing the intruder. “Don’t you know you are guilty of treason, and that there is a law against treason P” “The throne belongs to whoever is able to take it,” answered Jinjur, as she slowly ate another cara- mel. “I have taken it, as you see; so just now I am the Queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of 173 The Prisoners of the Queen treason, and must be punished by the law you have just mentioned.” This view of the case puzzled the Scarecrow. “How is it, friend Nick?” he asked, turning to the Tin Woodman. “Why, when it comes to Law, I have nothing to say,” answered that personage; “for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is foolish to make the attempt.” - “Then what shall we do?” asked the Scarecrow, in dismay. “Why don’t you marry the Queen? And then you can both rule,” suggested the Woggle-Bug. Jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. “Why don't you send her back to her mother, where she belongs?” asked Jack Pumpkinhead. Jinjur frowned. “Why don't you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and promises to be good?” enquired Tip. Jinjur's lip curled scornfully. “Or give her a good shaking!” added the Saw- Horse. . “No,” said the Tin Woodman, “we must treat the poor girl with gentleness. Let us give her all the jewels she can carry, and send her away happy and contented.” 174 SEATED WITHIN THE THRONE WAS GENERAL JINJUR. The Prisoners of the Queen At this Queen Jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute clapped her pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal. “You are very absurd creatures,” said she; “but I am tired of your nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer.” While the monarch and his friends listened in amazement to this impudent speech, a startling thing happened. The Tin Woodman's axe was snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and he found himself disarmed and helpless. At the same instant a shout of laughter rang in the ears of the de- voted band, and turning to see whence this came they found themselves surrounded by the Army of Revolt, the girls bearing in either hand their glistening knit. ting-needles. The entire throne room seemed to be filled with the rebels, and the Scarecrow and his comrades realized that they were prisoners. “You see how foolish it is to oppose a woman's wit,” said Jinjur, gaily; “and this event only proves that I am more fit to rule the Emerald City than a Scarecrow. I bear you no ill will, I assure you; but lest you should prove troublesome to me in the future I shall order you all to be destroyed. That is, all except the boy, who belongs to old Mombi and must be restored to her keeping. The rest of 175 The Prisoners of the Queen you are not human, and therefore it will not be wicked to demolish you. The Saw-Horse and the Pumpkinhead's body I will have chopped up for kindling-wood; and the pumpkin shall be made into tarts. The Scarecrow will do nicely to start a bonfire, and the tin man can be cut into small pieces and fed to the goats. As for this immense Woggle-Bug—” “Highly Magnified, if you please!” interrupted the insect. “I think I will ask the cook to make green-turtle soup of you,” continued the Queen, reflectively. The Woggle-Bug shuddered. “Or, if that won’t do, we might use you for a Hungarian goulash, stewed and highly spiced,” she added, cruelly. This programme of extermination was so terrible that the prisoners looked upon one another in a panic of fear. The Scarecrow alone did not give way to despair. He stood quietly before the Queen and his brow was wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape. While thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast move gently. At once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising his hand he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket. This action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd 176 The MICE HIDE THEMSELves IN THE SCARECROw's straw. The Prisoners of the Queen of girls clustering about him, but none of them sus- pected what he was doing until a tiny grey mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered KAN ºf V ) away between the feet of the Army of Revolt. Another mouse quickly followed; then another and another, in rapid succession. And suddenly such a 177 The Prisoners of the Queen scream of terror went up from the Army that it might easily have filled the stoutest heart with con- sternation. The flight that ensued turned to a stam- pede, and the stampede to a panic. For while the startled mice rushed wildly about the room the Scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of feet as the girls disappeared from the palace—pushing and crowd- ing one another in their mad efforts to escape. The Queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne and began to dance frantic- ally upon her tiptoes. Then a mouse ran up the cushions, and with a terrified leap poor Jinjur shot clear over the head of the Scarecrow and escaped through an archway—never pausing in her wild career until she had reached the city gates. So, in less time than I can explain, the throne room was deserted by all save the Scarecrow and his friends, and the Woggle-Bug heaved a deep sigh of relief as he exclaimed: “Thank goodness, we are saved l’” “For a time, yes;” answered the Tin Woodman. “But the enemy will soon return, I fear.” “Let us bar all the entrances to the palace l’” said the Scarecrow. “Then we shall have time to think what is best to be done.” 178 The Prisoners of the Queen So all except Jack Pumpkinhead, who was still tied fast to the Saw-Horse, ran to the various en- trances of the royal palace and closed the heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely. Then, knowing that the Army of Revolt could not batter down the barriers in several days, the adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a coun- cil of war. 179 180 ----------~ --~~------------- - º - | | -º| | | | | | --- -- - The Seagerow... Takes Time to Think “It seems to me,” began the Scarecrow, when all were again assembled in the throne room, “that the girl Jinjur is quite right in claiming to be Queen. And if she is right, then I am wrong, and we have no business to be occupying her palace.” “But you were the King until she came,” said the Woggle-Bug, strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; “so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of you.” “Especially as we have just conquered her and put her to flight,” added the Pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward the Scare- CTOW. “Have we really conquered her?” asked the Scare- crow, quietly. “Look out of the window, and tell me what you see.” 181 The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think Tip ran to the window and looked out. “The palace is surrounded by a double row of girl soldiers,” he announced. “I thought so,” returned the Scarecrow. “We are as truly their prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace.” “My friend is right,” said Nick Chopper, who had been polishing his breast with a bit of chamois- leather. “Jinjur is still the Queen, and we are her prisoners.” “But I hope she cannot get at us,” exclaimed the Pumpkinhead, with a shiver of fear. “She threat- ened to make tarts of me, you know.” “Don’t worry,” said the Tin Woodman. “It can- not matter greatly. If you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. A good tart is far more admirable than a decayed intellect.” “Very true,” agreed the Scarecrow. * “Oh, dear!” moaned Jack; “what an unhappy lot is mine! Why, dear father, did you not make me out of tin—or even out of straw—so that I would keep indefinitely.” “Shucks!” returned Tip, indignantly. “You ought to be glad that I made you at all.” Then he added, reflectively, “everything has to come to an end, some time.” 182 The Saledow Takes Time to Think “But I beg to remind you,” broke in the Woggle- Bug, who had a distressed look in his bulging, round eyes, “that this terrible Queen Jinjur suggested making a goulash of me—Me! the only Highly Magnified and Thoroughly Educated Woggle-Bug in the wide, wide world!” “I think it was a brilliant idea,” remarked the Scarecrow, approvingly. * “Don’t you imagine he would make a better soup?” asked the Tin Woodman, turning toward his friend. “Well, perhaps,” acknowledged the Scarecrow. The Woggle-Bug groaned. “I can see, in my mind's eye,” said he, mourn- fully, “the goats eating small pieces of my dear comrade, the Tin Woodman, while my soup is being cooked on a bonfire built of the Saw-Horse and Jack Pumpkinhead's body, and Queen Jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend the Scarecrow!” This morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party, making them restless and anxious. “It can't happen for some time,” said the Tin Woodman, trying to speak cheerfully; “for we shall be able to keep Jinjur out of the palace until she manages to break down the doors.” 183 The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think “And in the meantime I am liable to starve to death, and so is the Woggle-Bug,” announced Tip. “As for me,” said the Woggle-Bug, “I think that I could live for some time on Jack Pumpkinhead. Not that I prefer pumpkins for food; but I believe they are somewhat nutritious, and Jack's head is large and plump.” • , “How heartless!” exclaimed the Tin Woodman, greatly shocked. “Are we cannibals, let me ask? Or are we faithful friends?” “I see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this palace,” said the Scarecrow, with decision. “So let us end this mournful talk and try to discover a means to escape.” At this suggestion they all gathered eagerly around the throne, wherein was seated the Scarecrow, and as Tip sat down upon a stool there fell from his pocket a pepper-box, which rolled upon the floor. “What is this?” asked Nick Chopper, picking up the box. “Be carefull” cried the boy. “That's my Powder of Life. Don't spill it, for it is nearly gone.” “And what is the Powder of Life?” enquired the Scarecrow, as Tip replaced the box carefully in his pocket. “It's some magical stuff old Mombi got from a 184 The Scarecrow Take Time to Think crooked sorcerer,” explained the boy. “She brought Jack to life with it, and afterward I used it to bring the Saw-Horse to life. I guess it will make anything live that is sprinkled with it; but there's only about one dose left.” “Then it is very precious,” said the Tin Woodman. “Indeed it is,” agreed the Scarecrow. “It may prove our best means of escape from our difficulties. I believe I will think for a few minutes; so I will thank you, friend Tip, to get out your knife and rip this heavy crown from my forehead.” Tip soon cut the stitches that had fastened the crown to the Scare- crow's head, and the former monarch of the Emerald City re- moved it with a sigh of relief and hung it on a peg beside the throne. “That is my last memento of royal- ty,” said he; “and I'm glad to get rid of it. The former King of this City, -| Aſ The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think who was named Pastoria, lost the crown to the Wonderful Wizard, who passed it on to me. Now the girl Jinjur claims it, and I sincerely hope it will not give her a headache.” “A kindly thought, which I greatly admire,” said the Tin Woodman, nodding approvingly. “And now I will indulge in a quiet think,” con- tinued the Scarecrow, lying back in the throne. The others remained as silent and still as possible, so as not to disturb him; for all had great confidence in the extraordinary brains of the Scarecrow. And, after what seemed a very long time indeed to the anxious watchers, the thinker sat up, looked upon his friends with his most whimsical expression, and said: “My brains work beautifully today. I’m quite proud of them. Now, listen! If we attempt to escape through the doors of the palace we shall surely be captured. And, as we can’t escape through the ground, there is only one other thing to be done. We must escape through the air!” He paused to note the effect of these words; but all his hearers seemed puzzled and unconvinced. “The Wonderful Wizard escaped in a balloon,” he continued. “We don't know how to make a balloon, of course; but any sort of thing that can 186 The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think fly through the air can carry us easily. So I suggest that my friend the Tin Woodman, who is a skillful mechanic, shall build some sort of a machine, with good strong wings, to carry us; and our friend Tip can then bring the Thing to life with his magical powder.” “ Bravo!” cried Nick Chopper. “What splendid brains!” murmured Jack. Sº" “Really quite clever!” º As said the Educated Woggle- º Bug. |\\ “I believe it can be done,” declared Tip; “that - is, if the Tin Woodman dºllſ/lſº - - , , is equal to making the † !/ º *Lºſſil Thing.” matter of fact, I do not . often fail in what I at- ' ' '. tempt. But the Thing will, have to be built on the & - 2 #NS Zºº ." º % º 3. •. - - * - “I’ll do my best,” said Užº K. º, º º” º º: - - Nick, cheerily; “ and, as a . . . . /* roof of the palace, so it ºsº can rise comfortably into . ; the air.” º: , ; * The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think “To be sure,” said the Scarecrow. “Then let us search through the palace,” con- tinued the Tin Woodman, “and carry all the mate- rial we can find to the roof, where I will begin my work.” “First, however,” said the Pumpkinhead, “I beg you will release me from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. For in my present con- dition I am of no use to myself or to anyone else.” So the Tin Woodman knocked a mahogany cen- ter-table to pieces with his axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved, on to the body of Jack Pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition. * “It seems strange,” said he, as he watched the Tin Woodman work, “that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me.” “That proves you are unusual,” returned the Scarecrow; “and I am convinced that the only peo- ple worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. For the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed.” “Spoken like a philosopher!” cried the Woggle- Bug, as he assisted the Tin Woodman to set Jack upon his feet. “How do you feel now P” asked Tip, watching 188 The Scarecrow Takes Time to Think the Pumpkinhead stump around to try his new leg. “As good as new,” answered Jack, joyfully, “and quite ready to assist you all to escape.” “Then let us get to work,” said the Scarecrow, in a business-like tone. So, glad to be doing anything that might lead to the end of their captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace in search of fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine. | |-ºs- EA º E. º º Hå 189 - Tie - - º º, - º º: - º º ---, - Hà--> guis- ºaſiſ W ºr w. º | º º 2. ºri - º J - º - - - --" º º --~ \ Astonis of the Gump N º \!. I NSSS §§ | º ~ Z– - C. * Fi ğ. ight t- When the adventurers reassembled upon the roof it was found that a remarkably queer assortment of articles had been selected by the various members of the party. No one seemed to have a very clear idea of what was required, but all had brought something. The Woggle-Bug had taken from its position over the mantle-piece in the great hallway the head of a Gump, which was adorned with wide-spreading ant- lers; and this, with great care and greater difficulty, the insect had carried up the stairs to the roof. This Gump resembled an Elk’s head, only the nose turned upward in a saucy manner and there were whiskers 191 The Astonishing Flight of the Gump upon its chin, like those of a billy-goat. Why the Woggle-Bug selected this article he could not have explained, except that it had aroused his curiosity. Tip, with the aid of the Saw-Horse, had brought a large, upholstered sofa to the roof. It was an old- fashioned piece of furniture, with high back and ends, and it was so heavy that even by resting the greatest weight upon the back of the Saw-Horse, the boy found himself out of breath when at last the clumsy sofa was dumped upon the roof. The Pumpkinhead had brought a broom, which was the first thing he saw. The Scarecrow arrived with a coil of clothes-lines and ropes which he had taken from the courtyard, and in his trip up the stairs he had become so entangled in the loose ends of the ropes that both he and his burden tumbled in a heap upon the roof and might have rolled off if Tip had not rescued him. The Tin Woodman appeared last. He also had been to the courtyard, where he had cut four great, spreading leaves from a huge palm-tree that was the pride of all the inhabitants of the Emerald City. “My dear Nick!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, see- ing what his friend had done; “you have been guilty of the greatest crime any person can commit in the Emerald City. If I remember rightly, the 192 -----------◄-► $§ -SĒë¡SR×)| „Ą， fĀĻŅĀſÇÃ) ，\ \L_ （=N}/ \ Įſs！!！ №ŽĒĢĒĻ ----|-_aeaeſae ſ. （№）.ae. W ：··!-- - ，* ，|-· -|-ſ º---- ili•■rae---- |-----ſae~№_ll_ |-|-. · -------- ·Mae…）Mae'n ■！"■ MM~ ，|- ALL BROUGHT SOMETHING TO THE ROOF. The Astonishing Flight of the Gump penalty for chopping leaves from the royal palm- tree is to be killed seven times and afterward im- prisoned for life.” “It cannot be helped now,” answered the Tin Woodman, throwing down the big leaves upon the roof. “But it may be one more reason why it is necessary for us to escape. And now let us see what you have found for me to work with.” Many were the doubtful looks cast upon the heap of miscellaneous material that now cluttered the roof, and finally the Scarecrow shook his head and re- marked: “Well, if friend Nick can manufacture, from this mess of rubbish, a Thing that will fly through the air and carry us to safety, then I will acknowledge him to be a better mechanic than I suspected.” But the Tin Woodman seemed at first by no means sure of his powers, and only after polishing his forehead vigorously with the chamois-leather did he resolve to undertake the task. “The first thing required for the machine,” said he, “is a body big enough to carry the entire party. This sofa is the biggest thing we have, and might be used for a body. But, should the machine ever tip sideways, we would all slide off and fall to the ground.” 194 The Astonishing Flight of the Gump “Why not use two sofas?” asked Tip. “There's another one just like this down stairs.” - “That is a very sensible suggestion,” exclaimed the Tin Woodman. “You must fetch the other sofa at once.” So Tip and the Saw-Horse managed, with much labor, to get the second sofa to the roof; and when the two were placed together, edge to edge, the backs and ends formed a protecting rampart all around the seats. “Excellent!” cried the Scarecrow. “We can ride within this snug nest quite at our ease.” The two sofas were now bound firmly together with ropes and clothes-lines, and then Nick Chopper fastened the Gump's head to one end. “That will show which is the front end of the Thing,” said he, greatly pleased with the idea. “And, really, if you examine it critically, the Gump looks very well as a figure-head. These great palm-leaves, for which I have endangered my life seven times, must serve us as wings.” “Are they strong enough P” asked the boy. “They are as strong as anything we can get,” answered the Woodman; “and although they are not in proportion to the Thing's body, we are not in a position to be very particular.” 195 The Astonishing Flight of the Gump. So he fastened the palm-leaves to the sofas, two on each side. Said the Woggle-Bug, with considerable admira- tlon : “The Thing is now complete, and only needs to be brought to life.” “Stop a moment!” exclaimed Jack. “Are you not going to use my broom?” “What for?” asked the Scarecrow. “Why, it can be fastened to the back end for a tail,” answered the Pumpkinhead. “Surely you would not call the Thing complete without a tail.” “Hm l’” said the Tin Woodman; “I do not see the use of a tail. We are not trying to copy a beast, or a fish, or a bird. All we ask of the Thing is to carry us through the air.” “Perhaps, after the Thing is brought to life, it can use a tail to steer with,” suggested the Scarecrow. “For if it flies through the air it will not be unlike a bird, and I’ve noticed that all birds have tails, which they use for a rudder while flying.” “Very well,” answered Nick, “the broom shall be used for a tail,” and he fastened it firmly to the back end of the sofa body. Tip took the pepper-box from his pocket. “The Thing looks very big,” said he, anxiously; 196 The Astonishing Flight of the Gump “and I am not sure there is enough powder left to bring all of it to life. But I’ll make it go as far as possible.” “Put most on the wings,” said Nick Chopper; “for they must be made as strong as possible.” “And don't forget the head!” exclaimed the Wog- gle-Bug. “Or the tail!” added Jack Pumpkinhead. “Do be quiet,” said Tip, nervously; “you must give me a chance to work the magic charm in the proper manner.” Very carefully he began sprinkling the Thing with the precious powder. Each of the four wings was first lightly covered with a layer; then the sofas were sprinkled, and the broom given a slight coating. “The head! The head! Don't, I beg of you, for- get the head!” cried the Woggle-Bug, excitedly. “There's only a little of the powder left,” an- nounced Tip, looking within the box. “And it seems to me it is more important to bring the legs of the sofas to life than the head.” “Not so,” decided the Scarecrow. “Every thing must have a head to direct it; and since this crea- ture is to fly, and not walk, it is really unimportant whether its legs are alive or not.” So Tip abided by this decision and sprinkled the Gump's head with the remainder of the powder. 197 The Astonishing Flight of the Gump “Now,” said he, “keep silence while I work the charm l’’ Having heard old Mombi pronounce the magic words, and having also succeeded in bringing the Saw-Horse to life, Tip did not hesitate an instant in speaking the three cabalistic words, each accom- panied by the peculiar gesture of the hands. It was a grave and impressive ceremony. As he finished the incantation the Thing shud- dered throughout its huge bulk, the Gump gave the screeching cry that is familiar to those animals, and then the four wings began flopping furiously. Tip managed to grasp a chimney, else he would have been blown off the 2/3 roof by the terrible breeze “ſ. raised by the wings. The Scarecrow, being light in weight, was caught up bodily and borne through the air until Tip luckily seized him by one leg and held him fast. The Wog- gle-Bug lay flat upon the roof and so escaped harm, 198 The Astonishing Flight of the Gump and the Tin Woodman, whose weight of tin an- chored him firmly, threw both arms around Jack Pumpkinhead and managed to save him. The Saw- Horse toppled over upon his back and lay with his legs waving helplessly above him. And now, while all were struggling to recover themselves, the Thing rose slowly from the roof and mounted into the air. “Here! Come back!” cried Tip, in a frightened voice, as he clung to the chimney with one hand and the Scarecrow with the other. “Come back at once, I command you!” It was now that the wisdom of the Scarecrow, in bringing the head of the Thing to life instead of the legs, was proved beyond a doubt. For the Gump, already high in the air, turned its head at Tip's command and gradually circled around until it could view the roof of the palace. “Come back!” shouted the boy, again. And the Gump obeyed, slowly and gracefully waving its four wings in the air until the Thing had settled once more upon the roof and become still. 199 “. COME BACK! ” Sºre |W the Jackdaws Nest “This,” said the Gump, in a squeaky voice not at all proportioned to the size of its great body, “is the most novel experience I ever heard of. The last thing I remember distinctly is walking through the forest and hearing a loud noise. Something probably killed me then, and it certainly ought to have been the end of me. Yet here I am, alive again, with four monstrous wings and a body which I venture to say would make any respectable animal or fowl weep with shame to own. What does it all mean? Am I a Gump, or am I a juggernaut” The creature, as it spoke, wiggled its chin whiskers in a very comical manner. “You’re just a Thing,” answered Tip, “with a Gump’s head on it. And we have made you and brought you to life so that you may carry us through the air wherever we wish to go.” 201 In the Jack d a w s' N e s t “Very good!” said the Thing. “As I am not a Gump, I cannot have a Gump's pride or independ- ent spirit. So I may as well become your servant as anything else. My only satisfaction is that I do not seem to have a very strong constitution, and am not likely to live long in a state of slavery.” “Don’t say that, I beg of you!” cried the Tin Woodman, whose excellent heart was strongly af- fected by this sad speech. “Are you not feeling well today?” s “Oh, as for that,” returned the Gump, “it is my first day of existence; so I cannot judge whether I am feeling well or ill.” And it waved its broom tail to and fro in a pensive manner. “Come, come!” said the Scarecrow, kindly; “do try to be more cheerful and take life as you find it. We shall be kind masters, and will strive to render your existence as pleasant as possible. Are you willing to carry us through the air wherever we wish to go?” “Certainly,” answered the Gump. “I greatly prefer to navigate the air. For should I travel on the earth and meet with one of my own species, my embarrassment would be something awful!” “I can appreciate that,” said the Tin Woodman, sympathetically. “And yet,” continued the Thing, “when I carefully 202 I n the Jack d a w s” N e s t look you over, my masters, none of you seems to be constructed much more artistically than I am.” “Appearances are deceitful,” said the Woggle-Bug, earnestly. “I am both Highly Magnified and Thoroughly Educated.” “Indeed!” murmured the Gump, indifferently. “And my brains are considered remarkably rare specimens,” added the Scarecrow, proudly. “How strange!” remarked the Gump. “Although I am of tin,” said the Woodman, “I own a heart altogether the warmest and most ad- mirable in the whole world.” “I’m delighted to hear it,” replied the Gump, with a slight cough. “My smile,” said Jack Pumpkinhead, “is worthy your best attention. It is always the same.” “Semper idem,” explained the Woggle-Bug, pom- pously; and the Gump turned to stare at him. “And I,” declared the Saw-Horse, filling in an awkward pause, “am only remarkable because I can't help it.” “I am proud, indeed, to meet with such excep- tional masters,” said the Gump, in a careless tone. “If I could but secure so complete an introduction to myself, I would be more than satisfied.” “That will come in time,” remarked the Scare- 203 I n the Jack d a w s' Nest crow. “To Know Thyself’ is considered quite an accomplishment, which it has taken us, who are your elders, months to perfect. But now,” he added, turning to the others, “let us get aboard and start upon our journey.” “Where shall we go?” asked Tip, as he clambered to a seat on the sofas and assisted the Pumpkinhead to follow him. “In the South Country rules a very delightful Queen called Glinda the Good, who I am sure will gladly receive us,” said the Scarecrow, getting into the Thing clumsily. “Let us go to her and ask her advice.” “That is cleverly thought of,” declared Nick Chopper, giving the Woggle-Bug a boost and then toppling the Saw-Horse into the rear end of the cushioned seats. “I know Glinda the Good, and believe she will prove a friend indeed.” “Are we all ready?” asked the boy. “Yes,” announced the Tin Woodman, seating himself beside the Scarecrow. “Then,” said Tip, addressing the Gump, “be kind enough to fly with us to the Southward; and do not go higher than to escape the houses and trees, for it makes me dizzy to be up so far.” “All right,” answered the Gump, briefly. 204 THE GUMP SOARED SWIFTLY AND MAJESTICALLY AWAY. In the Jack d a w s' Nest It flopped its four huge wings and rose slowly into the air; and then, while our little band of adventur- ers clung to the backs and sides of the sofas for sup- port, the Gump turned toward the South and soared swiftly and majestically away. “The scenic effect, from this altitude, is marvel- ous,” commented the educated Woggle-Bug, as they rode along. “Never mind the scenery,” said the Scarecrow. “Hold on tight, or you may get a tumble. The Thing seems to rock badly.” “It will be dark soon,” said Tip, observing that the sun was low on the horizon. “Perhaps we should have waited until morning. I wonder if the Gump can fly in the night.” “I’ve been wondering that myself,” returned the Gump, quietly. “You see, this is a new experience to me. I used to have legs that carried me swiftly over the ground. But now my legs feel as if they were asleep.” “They are,” said Tip. “We didn't bring'em to life.” “You’re expected to fly,” explained the Scare- crow; “not to walk.” “We can walk ourselves,” said the Woggle-Bug. “I begin to understand what is required of me,” remarked the Gump; “so I will do my best to 205 In the Jack d a w s' Nest please you,” and he flew on for a time in silence. Presently Jack Pumpkinhead became uneasy. “I wonder if riding through the air is liable to spoil pumpkins,” he said. “Not unless you carelessly drop your head over the side,” answered the Woggle-Bug. “In that event your head would no longer be a pumpkin, for it would become a squash.” “Have I not asked you to restrain these unfeeling jokes?” demanded Tip, looking at the Woggle-Bug with a severe expression. “You have; and I’ve restrained a good many of them,” replied the insect. “But there are opportunities for so many excellent puns in our language that, to an educated person like myself, the temptation to express them is almost irresistible.” “People with more or less education discovered those puns centuries ago,” said Tip. “Are you sure?” asked the Woggle-Bug, with a startled look. “Of course I am,” answered the boy. “An edu- cated Woggle-Bug may be a new thing; but a Wog- gle-Bug education is as old as the hills, judging from the display you make of it.” The insect seemed much impressed by this remark, and for a time maintained a meek silence. 206 In the Jack d a w s” N e s t The Scarecrow, in shifting his seat, saw upon the cushions the pepper-box which Tip had cast aside, and began to examine it. “Throw it overboard,” said the boy; “it’s quite empty now, and there's no use keeping it.” “Is it really empty?” asked the Scarecrow, look- ing curiously into the box. “Of course it is,” answered Tip. “I shook out every grain of the powder.” “Then the box has two bottoms,” announced the Scarecrow; “for the bottom on the inside is fully an inch away from the bottom on the outside.” “Let me see,” said the Tin Woodman, taking the box from his friend. “Yes,” he declared, after look- ing it over, “the thing certainly has a false bottom. Now, I wonder what that is for?” “Can't you get it apart, and find out?” enquired Tip, now quite interested in the mystery. “Why, yes; the lower bottom unscrews,” said the Tin Woodman. “My fingers are rather stiff; please see if you can open it.” & He handed the pepper-box to Tip, who had no difficulty in unscrewing the bottom. And in the cavity below were three silver pills, with a carefully folded paper lying underneath them. This paper the boy proceeded to unfold, taking 2O7 In the Jack d a w s N e s t care not to spill the pills, and found several lines clearly written in red ink. “Read it aloud,” said the Scarecrow; so Tip read as follows: “DR. NIKIDIK'S CELEBRATED WISHING PILLS. “Directions for Use: Swallow one pill; count seventeen by twos; then make a Wish. —The Wish will immediately be granted. CAUTION: Keep in a Dry and Dark Place.” “Why, this is a very valuable discovery!” cried the Scarecrow. “It is, indeed,” replied Tip, gravely. “These pills may be of great use to us. I wonder if old Mombi knew they were in the bottom of the pepper-box. I remember hearing her say that she got the Powder of Life from this same Nikidik.” “He must be a powerful Sorcerer!” exclaimed the Tin Woodman; “and since the powder proved a success we ought to have confidence in the pills.” “But how,” asked the Scarecrow, “can anyone count seventeen by twos? Seventeen is an odd number.” “That is true,” replied Tip, greatly disappointed. “No one can possibly count seventeen by twos.” “Then the pills are of no use to us,” wailed the Pumpkinhead; “and this fact overwhelms me with 208 I n the Jack d a w s' Nest grief. For I had intended wishing that my head would never spoil.” “Nonsense!” said the Scarecrow, sharply. “If we could use the pills at all we would make far bet- ter wishes than that.” “I do not see how anything could be better,” protested poor Jack. “If you were liable to spoil at any time you could understand my anxiety.” “For my part,” said the Tin Woodman, “I sym- pathize with you in every respect. But since we cannot count seventeen by twos, sympathy is all you are liable to get.” By this time it had become quite dark, and the voyagers found above them a cloudy sky, through which the rays of the moon could not penetrate. R The Gump flew steadily on, and for some reason the huge sofa-body rocked more and more dizzily every hour. The Woggle-Bug declared he was sea-sick; and Tip was also pale and somewhat distressed. But the others clung to the backs of the sofas and did not seem to mind the motion as long as they were not tipped out. Darker and darker grew the night, and on and on sped the Gump through the black heavens. The 209 In the Jack d a w s N e s t travelers could not even see one another, and an oppressive silence settled down upon them. After a long time Tip, who had been thinking deeply, spoke. “How are we to know when we come to the pal- ace of Glinda the Good?” he asked. “It’s a long way to Glinda's palace,” answered the Woodman; “I’ve traveled it.” “But how are we to know how fast the Gump is flying?” persisted the boy. “We cannot see a single thing down on the earth, and before morning we may be far beyond the place we want to reach.” “That is all true enough,” the Scarecrow replied, a little uneasily. “But I do not see how we can stop just now; for we might alight in a river, or on the top of a steeple; and that would be a great dis- aster.” So they permitted the Gump to fly on, with reg- ular flops of its great wings, and waited patiently for morning. Then Tip's fears were proven to be well founded; for with the first streaks of gray dawn they looked over the sides of the sofas and discovered rolling plains dotted with queer villages, where the houses, instead of being dome-shaped—as they all are in the Land of Oz—had slanting roofs that rose to a peak 210 In the Jackdaws' N e s t in the center. Odd looking animals were also mov- ing about upon the open plains, and the country was unfamiliar to both the Tin Woodman and the Scare- crow, who had formerly visited Glinda the Good's domain and knew it well. “We are lost!” said the Scarecrow, dolefully. « The Gump must have carried us entirely out of the Land of Oz and over the sandy deserts and into the terrible outside world that Dorothy told us about.” º “We must get back,” exclaimed the Tin Wood- man, earnestly; “we must get back as soon as pos- sible!” “Turn around!” cried Tip to the Gump; “turn as quickly as you can l’’ “If I do I shall upset,” answered the Gump. “I’m not at all used to flying, and the best plan would be for me to alight in some place, and then I can turn around and take a fresh start.” Just then, however, there seemed to be no stop- ping-place that would answer their purpose. They flew over a village so big that the Woggle-Bug de- clared it was a city; and then they came to a range of high mountains with many deep gorges and steep cliffs showing plainly. “Now is our chance to stop,” said the boy, finding 211 In the Jack d a w s' Nest they were very close to the mountain tops. Then he turned to the Gump and commanded: “Stop at the first level place you see!” “Very well,” answered the Gump, and settled down upon a table of rock that stood between two cliffs. But not being experienced in such matters, the Gump did not judge his speed correctly; and in- stead of coming to a stop upon the flat rock he missed it by half the width of his body, breaking off both his right wings against the sharp edge of the rock and then tumbling over and over down the cliff. Our friends held on to the sofas as long as they could, but when the Gump caught on a projecting rock the Thing stopped suddenly—bottom side up —and all were immediately dumped out. By good fortune they fell only a few feet; for underneath them was a monster nest, built by a col- ony of Jackdaws in a hollow ledge of rock; so none of them—not even the Pumpkinhead—was injured by the fall. For Jack found his precious head rest- ing on the soft breast of the Scarecrow, which made an excellent cushion; and Tip fell on a mass of leaves and papers, which saved him from injury. The Woggle-Bug had bumped his round head against 212 S：- - }} ALL WERE IMMEDIATELY DUMPED OUT. 213 In the Jack d a w s' Nest the Saw-Horse, but without causing him more than a moment's inconvenience. The Tin Woodman was at first much alarmed; but finding he had escaped without even a scratch upon his beautiful nickle-plate he at once regained his accustomed cheerfulness and turned to address his comrades. “Our journey has ended rather suddenly,” said he, “and we cannot justly blame our friend the Gump for our accident, because he did the best he could under the circumstances. But how we are ever to escape from this nest I must leave to someone with better brains than I possess.” Here he gazed at the Scarecrow; who crawled to the edge of the nest and looked over. Below them was a sheer precipice several hundred feet in depth. Above them was a smooth cliff unbroken save by the point of rock where the wrecked body of the Gump still hung suspended from the end of one of the sofas. There really seemed to be no means of escape, and as they realized their helpless plight the little band of adventurers gave way to their bewil- derment. “This is a worse prison than the palace,” sadly remarked the Woggle-Bug. “I wish we had stayed there,” moaned Jack. 214 In the Jack d a w s' Nest “I’m afraid the mountain air isn't good for pump- kins.” “It won't be when the Jackdaws come back,” growled the Saw-Horse, which lay waving its legs in a vain endeavor to get upon its feet again. “Jack- daws are especially fond of pumpkins.” “Do you think the birds will come here?” asked Jack, much distressed. “Of course they will,” said Tip; “for this is their nest. And there must be hundreds of them,” he continued, “for see what a lot of things they have brought here!” Indeed, the nest was half filled with a most cu- rious collection of small articles for which the birds could have no use, but which the thieving Jackdaws had stolen during many years from the homes of men. And as the nest was safely hidden where no human being could reach it, this lost property would never be recovered. The Woggle-Bug, searching among the rubbish —for the Jackdaws stole useless things as well as valuable ones—turned up with his foot a beautiful diamond necklace. This was so greatly admired by the Tin Woodman that the Woggle-Bug presented it to him with a graceful speech, after which the Woodman hung it around his neck with much pride, 215 ºn 7% º ZYº TURNED UP A BEAUTIFUL DIAMOND NECKLACE. 216 - In the Jack d a w s” N e s t rejoicing exceedingly when the big diamonds glittered in the sun's rays. But now they heard a great jabbering and flop- ping of wings, and as the sound grew nearer to them Tip exclaimed: “The Jackdaws are coming! And if they find us here they will surely kill us in their anger.” “I was afraid of this!” moaned the Pumpkinhead. “My time has come!” - “And mine, also!” said the Woggle-Bug; “for Jackdaws are the greatest enemies of my race.” The others were not at all afraid; but the Scare- crow at once decided to save those of the party who were liable to be injured by the angry birds. So he commanded Tip to take off Jack's head and lie down with it in the bottom of the nest, and when this was done he ordered the Woggle-Bug to lie beside Tip. Nick Chopper, who knew from past experience just what to do, then took the Scarecrow to pieces—(all except his head)—and scattered the straw over Tip and the Woggle-Bug, completely covering their bodies. Hardly had this been accomplished when the flock of Jackdaws reached them. Perceiving the intrud- ers in their nest the birds flew down upon them with screams of rage. 217 218 The Tin Woodman was usually a peaceful man, but when occasion required he could fight as fiercely as a Roman gladiator. So, when the Jackdaws nearly knocked him down in their rush of wings, and their sharp beaks and claws threatened to damage his brilliant plating, the Woodman picked up his axe and made it whirl swiftly around his head. But although many were beaten off in this way, the birds were so numerous and so brave that they continued the attack as furiously as before. Some of them pecked at the eyes of the Gump, which hung over the nest in a helpless condition; but the Gump's eyes were of glass and could not be injured. Others of the Jackdaws rushed at the Saw-Horse; but that animal, being still upon his back, kicked out so viciously with his wooden legs that he beat off as many assailants as did the Woodman's axe. 219 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills Finding themselves thus opposed, the birds fell upon the Scarecrow's straw, which lay at the center of the nest, covering Tip and the Woggle-Bug and Jack's pumpkin head, and began tearing it away and flying off with it, only to let it drop, straw by straw into the great gulf beneath. The Scarecrow's head, noting with dismay this wanton destruction of his interior, cried to the Tin Woodman to save him; and that good friend re- sponded with renewed energy. His axe fairly flashed among the Jackdaws, and fortunately the Gump began wildly waving the two wings remaining on the left side of its body. The flutter of these great wings filled the Jackdaws with terror, and when the Gump by its exertions freed itself from the peg of rock on which it hung, and sank flopping into the nest, the alarm of the birds knew no bounds and they fled screaming over the mountains. When the last foe had disappeared, Tip crawled from under the sofas and assisted the Woggle-Bug to follow him. “We are saved!” shouted the boy, delightedly. “We are, indeed!” responded the Educated In- sect, fairly hugging the stiff head of the Gump in his joy; “and we owe it all to the flopping of the Thing and the good axe of the Woodman!” 220 HIS AXE FAIRLY FLASHED AMONG THE JACKDAWS. s Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills “If I am saved, get me out of here!” called Jack, whose head was still beneath the sofas; and Tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place it upon its neck again. He also set the Saw-Horse upright, and said to it: “We owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made.” “I really think we have escaped very nicely,” remarked the Tin Woodman, in a tone of pride. “Not so!” exclaimed a hollow voice. At this they all turned in surprise to look at the Scarecrow's head, which lay at the back of the nest. “I am complete- ly ruined!” declared the Scarecrow, as he noted their astonish- ment. “For where is the straw that stuffs my body?” The awful ques- tion startled them --- all. They gazed -- ~s. around the nest ~~ - with horror, for not -ºs- a vestige of straw remained. The 221 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills Jackdaws had stolen it to the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that yawned for hundreds of feet beneath the nest. “My poor, poor friend!” said the Tin Woodman, taking up the Scarecrow's head and caressing it tenderly; “whoever could imagine you would come to this untimely end?” “I did it to save my friends,” returned the head; “and I am glad that I perished in so noble and unselfish a manner.” - “But why are you all so despondent?” inquired the Woggle-Bug. “The Scarecrow's clothing is still safe.” “Yes,” answered the Tin Woodman; “but our friend's clothes are useless without stuffing.” “Why not stuff him with money?” asked Tip. “Money!” they all cried, in an amazed chorus. “To be sure,” said the boy. “In the bottom of the nest are thousands of dollar bills—and two- dollar bills—and five-dollar bills—and tens, and twenties, and fifties. There are enough of them to stuff a dozen Scarecrows. Why not use the money?” The Tin Woodman began to turn over the rub- bish with the handle of his axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only worthless papers were found to be all bills of various denominations, 222 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills which the mischievous Jackdaws had for years been engaged in stealing from the villages and cities they visited. There was an immense fortune lying in that inaccessible nest; and Tip's suggestion was, with the Scare- crow's consent, quickly acted upon. They selected all the newest and cleanest bills and assorted them into various piles. The Scarecrow's left leg and boot were stuffed with five-dollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten- dollar bills, and his body so closely filled with fifties, one- hundreds and one- thousands that he could scarcely but- ton his jacket with comfort. “You are now,” said the Woggle-Bug, impress- ively, when the task had been completed, “the most valuable member of our party; and as you 223 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills are among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent.” “Thank you,” returned the Scarecrow, gratefully. “I feel like a new man; and although at first glance I might be mistaken for a Safety Deposit Vault, I beg you to remember that my Brains are still com- posed of the same old material. And these are the possessions that have always made me a person to be depended upon in an emergency.” “Well, the emergency is here,” observed Tip; “and unless your brains help us out of it we shall be com- pelled to pass the remainder of our lives in this nest.” “How about these wishing pills?” enquired the Scarecrow, taking the box from his jacket pocket. “Can't we use them to escape?” “Not unless we can count seventeen by twos,” answered the Tin Woodman. “But our friend the Woggle-Bug claims to be highly educated, so he ought easily to figure out how that can be done.” “It isn't a question of education,” returned the Insect; “it’s merely a question of mathematics. I’ve seen the Professor work lots of sums on the black- board, and he claimed anything could be done with x's and y's and a's, and such things, by mixing them up with plenty of plusses and minuses and equals, and so forth. But he never said anything, so far as 224 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills I can remember, about counting up to the odd number of seventeen by the even numbers of twos.” “Stop! stop!” cried the Pumpkinhead. “You’re making my head ache.” “And mine,” added the Scarecrow. “Your math- ematics seem to me very like a bottle of mixed pickles—the more you fish for what you want the less chance you have of getting it. I am certain that if the thing can be accomplished at all, it is in a very simple manner.” “Yes,” said Tip; “old Mombi couldn't use x's and minuses, for she never went to school.” “Why not start counting at a half of one?” asked the Saw-Horse, abruptly. “Then anyone can count up to seventeen by twos very easily.” They looked at each other in surprise, for the Saw-Horse was considered the most stupid of the entire party. “You make me quite ashamed of myself,” said the Scarecrow, bowing low to the Saw-Horse. - “Nevertheless, the creature is right,” declared the Woggle-Bug; for twice one-half is one, and if you get to one it is easy to count from one up to seven- teen by twos.” “I wonder I didn't think of that myself,” said the Pumpkinhead. - 225 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills “I don’t,” returned the Scarecrow. “You’re no wiser than the rest of us, are you? But let us make a wish at once. Who will swallow the first pill?” “Suppose you do it,” suggested Tip. “I can’t,” said the Scarecrow. - “Why not? You've a mouth, haven't you?” asked the boy. mº-º- “Yes; but my mouth is painted on, and there's no swallow connected with it,” answered the Scare- crow. “In fact,” he continued, looking from one to another critically, “I believe the boy and the Woggle-Bug are the only ones in our party that are able to swallow.” g Observing the truth of this remark, Tip said: “Then I will undertake to make the first wish. Give me one of the Silver Pills.” This the Scarecrow tried to do; but his padded gloves were too clumsy to clutch so small an object, and he held the box toward the boy while Tip se- lected one of the pills and swallowed it. “Count!” cried the Scarecrow. “One-half, one, three, five, seven, nine, eleven, thirteen, fifteen, seventeen!” counted Tip. “Now wish!” said the Tin Woodman anxiously. But just then the boy began to suffer such fearful pains that he became alarmed. 226 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills “The pill has poisoned me!” he gasped; “O—h! O-o-o-o-o! Ouch! Murder! Fire! O-o-h1" and here he rolled upon the bottom of the nest in such con- tortions that he frightened them all. - “What can we do for you? Speak, I beg!” en- treated the Tin Woodman, tears of sympathy running down his nickel cheeks. “I—I don’t know!” answered Tip. “O-h! I wish I’d never swallowed that pill!” Then at once the pain stopped, and the boy rose to his feet again and found the Scarecrow looking with amazement at the end of the pepper-box. “What's happened?” asked the boy, a little ashamed of his recent exhibition. “Why, the three pills are in the box again!” said the Scarecrow. “Of course they are,” the Woggle- Bug declared. “Didn't Tip wish that he'd never swallowed one of them? Y. Well, the wish came true, and he didn't swallow one of them. So of course they are all three in the box.” “That may be; but the pill gave me a dreadful pain, just the same,” said the boy. - “Impossible!” declared the Woggle- 227 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills Bug, “If you have never swallowed it, the pill can not have given you a pain. And as your wish, being granted, proves you did not swallow the pill, it is also plain that you suffered no pain.” “Then it was a splendid imitation of a pain,” re- torted Tip, angrily. “Suppose you try the next pill yourself. We've wasted one wish already.” “Oh, no, we haven't!” protested the Scarecrow. “Here are still three pills in the box, and each pill is good for a wish.” “Now you're making my head ache,” said Tip. “I can't understand the thing at all. But I won't take another pill, I promise you!” and with this remark he retired sulkily to the back of the nest. “Well,” said the Woggle-Bug, “it remains for me to save us in my most Highly Magnified and Thor- oughly Educated manner; for I seem to be the only one able and willing to make a wish. Let me have one of the pills.” He swallowed it without hesitation, and they all stood admiring his courage while the Insect counted seventeen by twos in the same way that Tip had done. And for some reason—perhaps because Woggle-Bugs have stronger stomachs than boys— the silver pellet caused it no pain whatever. “I wish the Gump's broken wings mended, and 228 Dr. Nikidik's Famous Wishing Pills as good as new!” said the Woggle-Bug, in a slow, impressive voice. All turned to look at the Thing, and so quickly had the wish been granted that the Gump lay before them in perfect repair, and as well able to fly through the air as when it had first been brought to life on the roof of the palace. #2 *=º = *=º ==E - The Scarecrow Appeal, to Glinda the Good “Hooray!” shouted the Scarecrow, gaily. “We can now leave this miserable Jackdaws' nest when- ever we please.” “But it is nearly dark,” said the Tin Woodman; “and unless we wait until morning to make our flight we may get into more trouble. I don't like these night trips, for one never knows what will happen.” So it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers amused themselves in the twilight by searching the Jackdaws' nest for treasures. The Woggle-Bug found two handsome bracelets of wrought gold, which fitted his slender arms very well. The Scarecrow took a fancy for rings, of which there were many in the nest. Before long he 231 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda had fitted a ring to eagh finger of his padded gloves, and not being content with that display he added one more to each thumb. As he carefully chose those rings set with sparkling stones, such as rubies, amethysts and sapphires, the Scarecrow's hands now presented a most brilliant appearance. “This nest would be a picnic for Queen Jinjur,” said he, musingly; “for as nearly as I can make out she and her girls conquered me merely to rob my city of its emeralds.” The Tin Woodman was content with his diamond necklace and refused to accept any additional dec- orations; but Tip secured a fine gold watch, which was attached to a heavy fob, and placed it in his pocket with much pride. He also pinned several jeweled brooches to Jack Pumpkinhead's red waist- coat, and attached a lorgnette, by means of a fine chain, to the neck of the Saw-Horse. “It's very pretty,” said the creature, regarding the lorgnette approvingly; “but what is it for?” None of them could answer that question, how- ever; so the Saw-Horse decided it was some rare decoration and became very fond of it. That none of the party might be slighted, they ended by placing several large seal rings upon the points of the Gump's antlers, although that odd 232 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda personage seemed by no means gratified by the attentlon. Darkness soon fell upon them, and Tip and the Woggle-Bug went to sleep while the others sat down to wait patiently for the day. * Next morning they had cause to congratulate themselves upon the useful condition of the Gump; for with daylight a great flock of Jackdaws ap- proached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest. «» But our adventurers did not wait for the assault. They tumbled into the cushioned seats of the sofas as quickly as possible, and Tip gave the word to the Gump to start. At once it rose into the air, the great wings flop- ping strongly and with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the nest that the chattering Jackdaws took possession without any attempt at pursuit. The Thing flew due North, going in the same direction from whence it had come. At least, that was the Scarecrow's opinion, and the others agreed that the Scarecrow was the best judge of direction. After passing over several cities and villages the Gump carried them high above a broad plain where houses became more and more scattered until they 233 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda disappeared altogether. Next came the wide, sandy desert separating the rest of the world from the Land of Oz, and before noon they saw the dome-shaped houses that proved they were once more within the borders of their native land. “But the houses and fences are blue,” said the Tin Woodman, “and that indicates we are in the land of the Munchkins, and therefore a long distance from Glinda the Good.” “What shall we do?” asked the boy, turning to their guide. “I don't know,” replied the Scarecrow, frankly. “If we were at the Emerald City we could then move directly southward, and so reach our desti- nation. But we dare not go the Emerald City, and the Gump is probably carrying us further in the wrong direction with every flop of its wings.” “Then the Woggle-Bug must swallow another pill,” said Tip, decidedly, “and wish us headed in the right direction.” “Very well,” returned the Highly Magnified one; “I’m willing.” But when the Scarecrow searched in his pocket for the pepper-box containing the two silver Wishing Pills, it was not to be found. Filled with anxiety, the voyagers hunted throughout every inch of the 9 234 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda Thing for the precious box; but it had disappeared entirely. e And still the Gump flew onward, carrying them they knew not where. “I must have left the pepper-box in the Jack- daws' nest,” said the Scarecrow, at length. “It is a great misfortune,” the Tin Woodman declared. “But we are no worse off than before we discovered the Wishing Pills.” - “We are better off,” replied Tip; “for the one pill we used has enabled us to escape from that horrible nest.” “Yet the loss of the other two is serious, and I deserve a good scolding for my carelessness,” the Scarecrow rejoined, penitently. “For in such an unusual party as this accidents are liable to happen any moment, and even now we may be approaching a new danger.” No one dared contradict this, and a dismal silence ensued. The Gump flew steadily on. Suddenly Tip uttered an exclamation of surprise. “We must have reached the South Country,” he cried, “for below us everything is red!” Immediately they all leaned over the backs of the sofas to look—all except Jack, who was too careful 235 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda of his pumpkin head to risk its slipping off his neck. Sure enough; the red houses and fences and trees indicated they were within the domain of Glinda the Good; and presently, as they glided rapidly on, the Tin Woodman recognized the roads and build- ings they passed, and altered slightly the flight of The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda the Gump so that they might reach the palace of the celebrated Sorceress. “Good!” cried the Scarecrow, delightedly. “We do not need the lost Wishing Pills now, for we have arrived at our destination.” Gradually the Thing sank lower and nearer to the ground until at length it came to rest within the beautiful gardens of Glinda, settling upon a velvety green lawn close by a fountain which sent sprays of flashing gems, instead of water, high into the air, whence they fell with a soft, tinkling sound into the carved marble basin placed to receive them. Everything was very gorgeous in Glinda's gardens, and while our voyagers gazed about with admiring eyes a company of soldiers silently appeared and surrounded them. But these soldiers of the great Sorceress were entirely different from those of Jin- jur's Army of Revolt, although they were likewise girls. For Glinda's soldiers wore neat uniforms and bore swords and spears; and they marched with a skill and precision that proved them well trained in the arts of war. The Captain commanding this troop—which was Glinda's private Body Guard—recognized the Scare- crow and the Tin Woodman at once, and greeted them with respectful salutations. 237 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda “Good day!” said the Scarecrow, gallantly remov- ing his hat, while the Woodman gave a soldierly salute; “we have come to request an audience with your fair Ruler.” “Glinda is now within her palace, awaiting you,” returned the Captain; “for she saw you coming long before you arrived.” “That is strange!” said Tip, wondering. “Not at all,” answered the Scarecrow; “for Glinda the Good is a mighty Sorceress, and nothing that goes on in the Land of Oz escapes her notice. I suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves.” “Then what was the use of our coming?” asked Jack, stupidly. “To prove you are a Pumpkinhead!” retorted the Scarecrow. “But, if the Sorceress expects us, we must not keep her waiting.” The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda So they all clambered out of the sofas and fol- lowed the Captain toward the palace—even the Saw-Horse taking his place in the queer procession. Upon her throne of finely wrought gold sat Glinda, and she could scarcely repress a smile as her pecul- iar visitors entered and bowed before her. Both the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman she knew and liked; but the awkward Pumpkinhead and Highly Magnified Woggle-Bug were creatures she had never seen before, and they seemed even more curious than the others. As for the Saw-Horse, he looked to be nothing more than an animated chunk of wood; and he bowed so stiffly that his head bumped against the floor, causing a ripple of laughter among the soldiers, in which Glinda frankly joined. “I beg to announce to your glorious highness,” began the Scarecrow, in a solemn voice, “that my Emerald City has been overrun by a crowd of impu- dent girls with knitting-needles, who have enslaved all the men, robbed the streets and public build- ings of all their emerald jewels, and usurped my throne.” “I know it,” said Glinda. “They also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good friends and allies you see before you,” continued the Scarecrow; “and had we not managed 239 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda to escape their clutches our days would long since have ended.” “I know it,” repeated Glinda. “Therefore I have come to beg your assistance,” resumed the Scarecrow, “for I believe you are always glad to succor the unfortunate and oppressed.” “That is true,” replied the Sorceress, slowly. “But the Emerald City is now ruled by General Jinjur, who has caused herself to be proclaimed Queen. What right have I to oppose her?” “Why, she stole the throne from me,” said the Scarecrow. “And how came you to possess the throne?” asked Glinda. “I got it from the Wizard of Oz, and by the choice of the people,” returned the Scarecrow, uneasy at such questioning. “And where did the Wizard get it?” she continued, gravely. “I am told he took it from Pastoria, the former King,” said the Scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the Sorceress. “Then,” declared Glinda, “the throne of the Em– erald City belongs neither to you nor to Jinjur, but to this Pastoria from whom the Wizard usurped it.” “That is true,” acknowledged the Scarecrow, 240 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda humbly; “but Pastoria is now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place.” “Pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of the Emerald City. Did you know that?” questioned the Sorceress. “No,” replied the Scarecrow. “But if the girl still lives I will not stand in her way. It will satisfy me as well to have Jinjur turned out, as an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. In fact, it isn't much fun to be King, especially if one has good brains. I have known for some time that I am fitted to oc- cupy a far more exalted position. But where is this girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?” “Her name is Ozma,” answered Glinda. “But where she is I have tried in vain to discover. For the Wizard of Oz, when he stole the throne from Ozma's father, hid the girl in some secret place; and by means of a magical trick with which I am not familiar he also managed to prevent her being dis- covered—even by so experienced a Sorceress as myself.” “That is strange,” interrupted the Woggle-Bug, pompously. “I have been informed that the Won- derful Wizard of Oz was nothing more than a humbug!” 241 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda f “Nonsense!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, much provoked by this speech. “Didn't he give me a wonderful set of brains?” “There's no humbug about my heart,” announced the Tin Woodman, glaring indignantly at the Wog- gle-Bug. “Perhaps I was misinformed,” stammered the Insect, shrinking back; “I never knew the Wizard personally.” “Well, we did,” retorted the Scarecrow, “and he was a very great Wizard, I assure you. It is true he was guilty of some slight impostures, but unless he was a great Wizard how—let me ask—could he have hidden this girl Ozma so securely that no one can find her?” “I—I give it up!” replied the Woggle-Bug, meekly. “That is the most sensible speech you've made,” said the Tin Woodman. “I must really make another effort to discover where this girl is hidden,” resumed the Sorceress, thoughtfully. “I have in my library a book in which is inscribed every action of the Wizard while he was in our land of Oz—or, at least, every action that could be observed by my spies. This book I will read carefully tonight, and try to single out the acts that may guide us in discovering the lost Ozma. In 242 -º-º-º-º-º-º- *- --~~~~~~~~~º º - --- - º º --- º | | ...N. GLINDA SEARCHES THE RECORDS. The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda the meantime, pray amuse yourselves in my palace and command my servants as if they were your own. I will grant you another audience tomorrow.” With this gracious speech Glinda dismissed the adventurers, and they wandered away through the beautiful gardens, where they passed several hours enjoying all the delightful things with which the Queen of the Southland had surrounded her royal palace. On the following morning they again appeared before Glinda, who said to them: “I have searched carefully through the records of the Wizard's actions, and among them I can find but three that appear to have been suspicious. He ate beans with a knife, made three secret visits to old Mombi, and limped slightly on his left foot.” “Ah! that last is certainly suspicious!” exclaimed the Pumpkinhead. “Not necessarily,” said the Scarecrow; “he may have had corns. Now, it seems to me his eating beans with a knife is more suspicious.” “Perhaps it is a polite custom in Omaha, from which great country the Wizard originally came,” suggested the Tin Woodman. - “It may be,” admitted the Scarecrow. 243 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda “But why,” asked Glinda, “ did he make three secret visits to old Mombif" “Ah! Why, indeed!” echoed the Woggle-Bug, impressively. “We know that the Wizard taught the old woman many of his tricks of magic,” continued Glinda; “and this he would not have done had she not as- sisted him in some way. So we may suspect with good reason that Mombi aided him to hide the girl Ozma, who was the real heir to the throne of the Emerald City, and a constant danger to the usurper. For, if the people knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their Queen and restore her to her rightful position.” “An able argument!” cried the Scarecrow. “I have no doubt that Mombi was mixed up in this wicked business. But how does that knowledge help us?” “We must find Mombi,” replied Glinda, “and force her to tell where the girl is hidden.” “Mombi is now with Queen Jinjur, in the Em- erald City,” said Tip. “It was she who threw so many obstacles in our pathway, and made Jinjur threaten to destroy my friends and give me back into the old witch's power.” “Then,” decided Glinda, “I will march with my 244 The Scarecrow Appeals to Glinda army to the Emerald City, and take Mombi prisoner. After that we can, perhaps, force her to tell the truth about Ozma.” “She is a terrible old woman!” remarked Tip, with a shudder at the thought of Mombi's black kettle; “and obstinate, too.” “I am quite obstinate myself,” returned the Sor- ceress, with a sweet smile; “so I do not fear Mombi in the least. Today I will make all necessary prep- arations, and we will march upon the Emerald City at daybreak tomorrow.” “She is a terrible old woman.” 246 ! The Army of Glinda %Gº-, the Good looked very _º-grand and imposing when it assembled at daybreak before the palace gates. The uni- forms of the girl soldiers were pretty and of gay colors, and their silver-tipped spears were bright and glistening, the long shafts being inlaid with mother- of-pearl. All the officers wore sharp, gleaming swords, and shields edged with peacock-feathers; and it really seemed that no foe could by any possibility defeat such a brilliant army. The Sorceress rode in a beautiful palanquin which was like the body of a coach, having doors and 247 The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose windows with silken curtains; but instead of wheels, which a coach has, the palanquin rested upon two long, horizontal bars, which were borne upon the shoulders of twelve servants. The Scarecrow and his comrades decided to ride in the Gump, in order to keep up with the swift march of the army; so, as soon as Glinda had started and her soldiers had marched away to the inspiring strains of music played by the royal band, our friends climbed into the sofas and followed. The Gump flew along slowly at a point directly over the palan- quin in which rode the Sorceress. “Be careful,” said the 2 The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose Tin Woodman to the Scarecrow, who was leaning far over the side to look at the army below. “You might fall.” “It wouldn’t matter,” remarked the educated Woggle-Bug; “he can't get broke so long as he is stuffed with money.” “Didn't I ask you—” began Tip, in a reproach- ful voice. “You did!” said the Woggle-Bug, promptly. “And I beg your pardon. I will really try to restrain myself.” “You’d better,” declared the boy. “That is, if you wish to travel in our company.” “Ah! I couldn't bear to part with you now,” murmured the Insect, feelingly; so Tip let the sub- ject drop. The army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came to the walls of the Emerald City. By the dim light of the new moon, however, Glinda's forces silently surrounded the city and pitched their tents of scarlet silk upon the greensward. The tent of the Sorceress was larger than the others, and was composed of pure white silk, with scarlet banners flying above it. A tent was also pitched for the Scarecrow's party; and when these preparations had been made, with military precision and quickness, the army retired to rest. 249 The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose Great was the amazement of Queen Jinjur next morning when her soldiers came running to inform her of the vast army surrounding them. She at once climbed to a high tower of the royal palace and saw banners waving in every direction and the great white tent of Glinda standing directly before the gates. - “We are surely lost!” cried Jinjur, in despair; “for how can our knitting-needles avail against the long spears and terrible swords of our foes?” “The best thing we can do,” said one of the girls, “is to surrender as quickly as possible, before we get hurt.” “Not so,” returned Jinjur, more bravely. “The enemy is still outside the walls, so we must try to gain time by engaging them in parley. Go you with a flag of truce to Glinda and ask her why she has dared to invade my dominions, and what are her demands.” So the girl passed through the gates, bear- ing a white flag to show she was on a mission of peace, and came to Glinda's tent. “Tell your Queen,” said the Sorceress to the girl, “that she must deliver up to me old Mombi, to be my prisoner. If this is done I will not molest her farther.” 250 The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose Now when this message was delivered to the Queen it filled her with dismay, for Mombi was her chief counsellor, and Jinjur was terribly afraid of the old hag. But she sent for Mombi, and told her what Glinda had said. “I see trouble ahead for all of us,” muttered the old witch, after glancing into a magic mirror she carried in her pocket. “But we may even yet escape by deceiving this sorceress, clever as she thinks herself.” “Don’t you think it will be safer for me to deliver you into her hands?” asked Jinjur, nervously. “If you do, it will cost you the throne of the Emerald City!” answered the witch, positively. “But, if you will let me have my own way, I can save us both very easily.” “Then do as you please,” replied Jinjur, “for it is so aristocratic to be a Queen that I do not wish to be obliged to return home again, to make beds and wash dishes for my mother.” So Mombi called Jellia Jamb to her, and performed a certain magical rite with which she was familiar. As a result of the enchantment Jellia took on the form and features of Mombi, while the old witch grew to resemble the girl so closely that it seemed impossible anyone could guess the deception. 251 The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose “Now,” said old Mombi to the Queen, “let your soldiers deliver up this girl to Glinda. She will think she has the real Mombi in her power, and so will return immediately to her own country in the South.” Therefore Jellia, hobbling along like an aged woman, was led from the city gates and taken before Glinda. “Here is the person you demanded,” said one of the guards, “and our Queen now begs you will go away, as you promised, and leave us in peace.” “That I will surely do,” replied Glinda, much pleased; “if this is really the person she seems to be.” “It is certainly old Mombi,” said the guard, who believed she was speaking the truth; and then Jinjur's soldiers returned within the city's gates. 252 The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose The Sorceress quickly summoned the Scarecrow and his friends to her tent, and began to question the supposed Mombi about the lost girl Ozma. But Jellia knew nothing at all of this affair, and presently she grew so nervous under the questioning that she gave way and began to weep, to Glinda's great as- tonishment. “Here is some foolish trickery!” said the Sorceress, her eyes flashing with anger. “This is not Mombi at all, but some other person who has been made to resemble her! Tell me,” she demanded, turning to the trembling girl, “what is your name?” This Jellia dared not tell, having been threatened with death by the witch if she confessed the fraud. But Glinda, sweet and fair though she was, understood magic better than any other person in the Land of Oz. So, by uttering a few potent words and making a peculiar gesture, she quickly transformed the girl into her proper shape, while at the same time old Mombi, far away in Jinjur's palace, suddenly resumed her own crooked form and evil features. “Why, it's Jellia Jambl” cried the Scarecrow, rec- ognizing in the girl one of his old friends. “It's our interpreter!” said the Pumpkinhead, smiling pleasantly. Then Jellia was forced to tell of the trick Mombi 253 had played, and she also begged Glinda's protection, which the Sorceress readily granted. But Glinda was now really angry, and sent word to Jinjur that the fraud was discovered and she must deliver up the real Mombi or suffer terrible consequences. Jinjur was prepared for this message, for the witch well under- stood, when her natural form was thrust upon her, that Glinda had discovered her trickery. But the wicked old creature had already thought up a new deception, and had made Jinjur promise to carry it out. So the Queen said to Glinda's messenger: “Tell your mistress that I cannot find Mombi anywhere; but that Glinda is welcome to enter the 254 THE TIN wooDMAN PLUCKS THE Rose. The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose city and search herself for the old woman. She may also bring her friends with her, if she likes; but if she does not find Mombi by sundown, the Sorceress must promise to go away peaceably and bother us no more.” Glinda agreed to these terms, well knowing that Mombi was somewhere within the city walls. So Jinjur caused the gates to be thrown open, and Glinda marched in at the head of a company of soldiers, fol- lowed by the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, while Jack Pumpkinhead rode astride the Saw-Horse, and the Educated, Highly Magnified Woggle-Bug sauntered behind in a dignified manner. Tip walked by the side of the Sorceress, for Glinda had conceived a great liking for the boy. Of course old Mombi had no intention of being found by Glinda; so, while her enemies were march- ing up the street, the witch transformed herself into a red rose growing upon a bush in the garden of the palace. It was a clever idea, and a trick Glinda did not suspect; so several precious hours were spent in a vain search for Mombi. As sundown approached the Sorceress realized she had been defeated by the superior cunning of the aged witch; so she gave the command to her people to march out of the city and back to their tents. The Scarecrow and his comrades happened to be 255 The Tin Woodman Plucks a Rose searching in the garden of the palace just then, and they turned with disappointment to obey Glinda's command. But before they left the garden the Tin Woodman, who was fond of flowers, chanced to espy a big red rose growing upon a bush; so he plucked the flower and fastened it securely in the tin button- hole of his tin bosom. As he did this he fancied he heard a low moan proceed from the rose; but he paid no attention to the sound, and Mombi was thus carried out of the city and into Glinda's camp without anyone having a suspicion that they had succeeded in their quest. The Transformation J’ Old Mombi The Witch was at first frightened at finding her- self captured by the enemy; but soon she decided that she was exactly as safe in the Tin Woodman's button-hole as growing upon the bush. For no one knew the rose and Mombi to be one, and now that she was without the gates of the City her chances of escaping altogether from Glinda were much improved. “But there is no hurry,” thought Mombi. “I will wait awhile and enjoy the humiliation of this Sor- ceress when she finds I have outwitted her.” So throughout the night the rose lay quietly on the Woodman's bosom, and in the morning, when Glinda summoned our friends to a consultation, Nick Chop- per carried his pretty flower with him to the white silk tent. - 257 “For some reason,” said Glinda, “we have failed to find this cunning old Mombi; so I fear our expe- dition will prove a failure. And for that I am sorry, because without our assistance little Ozma will never be rescued and restored to her rightful position as Queen of the Emerald City.” “Do not let us give up so easily,” said the Pump- kinhead. “Let us do something else.” “Something else must really be done,” replied Glinda, with a smile; “yet I cannot understand how I have been defeated so easily by an old Witch who knows far less of magic than I do myself.” “While we are on the ground I believe it would be wise for us to conquer the Emerald City for Prin- cess Ozma, and find the girl afterward,” said the Scarecrow. “And while the girl remains hidden I will gladly rule in her place, for I understand the business of ruling much better than Jinjur does.” 258 The Transformation of Old Mombi “But I have promised not to molest Jinjur,” ob- jected Glinda. “Suppose you all return with me to my kingdom —or Empire, rather,” said the Tin Woodman, po- litely including the entire party in a royal wave of his arm. “It will give me great pleasure to entertain you in my castle, where there is room enough and to spare. And if any of you wish to be nickel-plated, my valet will do it free of all expense.” While the Woodman was speaking Glinda's eyes had been noting the rose in his button-hole, and now she imagined she saw the big red leaves of the flower tremble slightly. This quickly aroused her suspicions, and in a moment more the Sorceress had decided that the seeming rose was nothing else than a transformation of old Mombi. At the same instant Mombi knew she was discovered and must quickly plan an escape, and as transformations were easy to her she immediately took the form of a Shadow and glided along the wall of the tent toward the entrance, thinking thus to disappear. But Glinda had not only equal cunning, but far more experience than the Witch. So the Sorceress reached the opening of the tent before the Shadow, and with a wave of her hand closed the entrance so securely that Mombi could not find a crack big 259 The Transformation of Old Mombi enough to creep through. The Scarecrow and his friends were greatly surprised at Glinda's actions; for none of them had noted the Shadow. But the Sor- ceress said to them: “Remain perfectly quiet, all of you! For the old Witch is even now with us in this tent, and I hope to capture her.” These words so alarmed Mombi that she quickly transformed herself from a shadow to a Black Ant, in which shape she crawled along the ground, seek- ing a crack or crevice in which to hide her tiny body. Fortunately, the ground where the tent had been pitched, being just before the city gates, was hard and smooth; and while the Ant still crawled about, Glinda discovered it and ran quickly forward to effect its capture. But, just as her hand was descending, the Witch, now fairly frantic with fear, made her last transformation, and in the form of a huge Griffin sprang through the wall of the tent—tearing the silk asunder in her rush—and in a moment had darted away with the speed of a whirlwind. Glinda did not hesitate to follow. She sprang upon the back of the Saw-Horse and cried: - “Now you shall prove that you have a right to be alive! Run–run—run l’’ The Saw-Horse ran. Like a flash he followed the 260 THE GRIFFIN SPRANG THROUGH THE WALL OF THE TENT. The Transformation of Old Mombi Griffin, his wooden legs moving so fast that they twinkled like the rays of a star. Before our friends could recover from their surprise both the Griffin and the Saw-Horse had dashed out of sight. “Come! Let us follow!” cried the Scarecrow. They ran to the place where the Gump was lying and quickly tumbled aboard. “Fly!” commanded Tip, eagerly. “Where to *" asked the Gump, in its calm voice. “I don't know,” returned Tip, who was very nervous at the delay; “but if you will mount into the air I think we can discover which way Glinda has gone.” The Transformation of Old Mombi “Very well,” returned the Gump, quietly; and it spread its great wings and mounted high into the air. Far away, across the meadows, they could now see two tiny specks, speeding one after the other; and they knew these specks must be the Griffin and the Saw-Horse. So Tip called the Gump's attention to them and bade the creature try to overtake the Witch and the Sorceress. But, swift as was the Gump's flight, the pursued and pursuer moved more swiftly yet, and within a few moments were blotted out against the dim horizon. “Let us continue to follow them, nevertheless,” said the Scarecrow; “for the Land of Oz is of small extent, and sooner or later they must both come to a halt.” Old Mombi had thought herself very wise to choose the form of a Griffin, for its legs were exceed- ingly fleet and its strength more enduring than that of other animals. But she had not reckoned on the untiring energy of the Saw-Horse, whose wooden limbs could run for days without slacking their speed. Therefore, after an hour's hard running, the Griffin's breath began to fail, and it panted and gasped pain- fully, and moved more slowly than before. Then it reached the edge of the desert and began racing across the deep sands. But its tired feet sank far 262 The Transformation of Old Mombi into the sand, and in a few minutes the Griffin fell forward, completely exhausted, and lay still upon the desert waste. Glinda came up a moment later, riding the still vigorous Saw-Horse; and having unwound a slender golden thread from her girdle the Sorceress threw it over the head of the panting and helpless Griffin, and so destroyed the magical power of Mombi's transformation. For the animal, with one fierce shudder, disap- peared from view, while in its place was discovered the form of the old Witch, glaring savagely at the serene and beautiful face of the Sorceress. R. Mul rincess Ozrwº ºf Oz “You are my prisoner, and it is useless for you to struggle any longer,” said Glinda, in her soft, sweet voice. “Lie still a moment, and rest yourself, and then I will carry you back to my tent.” “Why do you seek me?” asked Mombi, still scarce able to speak plainly for lack of breath. “What have I done to you, to be so persecuted?” “You have done nothing to me,” answered the gentle Sorceress; “but I suspect you have been guilty of several wicked actions; and if I find it is true that you have so abused your knowledge of magic, I in- tend to punish you severely.” “I defy you!” croaked the old hag. “You dare not harm me!” - Just then the Gump flew up to them and alighted upon the desert sands beside Glinda. Our friends 265 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz were delighted to find that Mombi had finally been captured, and after a hurried consultation it was de- cided they should all return to the camp in the Gump. So the Saw-Horse was tossed aboard, and then Glinda, still holding an end of the golden thread that was around Mombi's neck, forced her prisoner to climb into the sofas. The others now followed, and Tip gave the word to the Gump to return. The journey was made in safety, Mombi sitting in her place with a grim and sullen air; for the old hag was absolutely helpless so long as the magical thread encircled her throat. The army hailed Glinda's re- turn with loud cheers, and the party of friends soon gathered again in the royal tent, which had been neatly repaired during their absence. “Now,” said the Sorceress to Mombi, “I want you to tell us why the Wonderful Wizard of Oz paid you three visits, and what became of the child, Ozma, which so curiously disappeared.” The Witch looked at Glinda defiantly, but said not a word. “Answer me!” cried the Sorceress. But still Mombi remained silent. “Perhaps she doesn't know,” remarked Jack. “I beg you will keep quiet,” said Tip. “You might spoil everything with your foolishness.” 266 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz “Very well, dear father!” returned the Pumpkin- head, meekly. “How glad I am to be a Woggle-Bug!” mur- mured the Highly Magnified Insect, softly. “No one can expect wisdom to flow from a pumpkin.” “Well,” said the Scarecrow, “what shall we do to make Mombi speak? Unless she tells us what we wish to know her capture will do us no good at all.” “Suppose we try kindness,” suggested the Tin Woodman. “I’ve heard that anyone can be conquered with kindness, no matter how ugly they may be.” At this the Witch turned to glare upon him so horribly that the Tin Woodman shrank back abashed. Glinda had been carefully considering what to do, and now she turned to Mombi and said: “You will gain nothing, I assure you, by thus defying us. For I am determined to learn the truth about the girl Ozma, and unless you tell me all that you know, I will certainly put you to death.” “Oh, no! Don't do that!” exclaimed the Tin Woodman. “It would be an awful thing to kill anyone—even old Mombi!” “But it is merely a threat,” returned Glinda. “I shall not put Mombi to death, because she will pre- fer to tell me the truth.” “Oh, I see!” said the tin man, much relieved. 267 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz “Suppose I tell you all that you wish to know,” said Mombi, speaking so suddenly that she startled them all. “What will you do with me then?” “In that case,” replied Glinda, “I shall merely ask you to drink a powerful draught which will cause you to forget all the magic you have ever learned.” “Then I would become a helpless old woman!” “But you would be alive,” suggested the Pump- kinhead, consolingly. “Do try to keep silent!” said Tip, nervously. “I’ll try,” responded Jack; “but you will admit that it's a good thing to be alive.” “Especially if one happens to be Thoroughly Ed- ucated,” added the Woggle-Bug, nodding approval. “You may make your choice,” Glinda said to old Mombi, “between death if you remain silent, and the loss of your magical powers if you tell me the truth. But I think you will prefer to live.” Mombi cast an uneasy glance at the Sorceress, and saw that she was in earnest, and not to be trifled with. So she replied, slowly: “I will answer your questions.” “That is what I expected,” said Glinda, pleasantly. “You have chosen wisely, I assure you.” She then motioned to one of her Captains, who brought her a beautiful golden casket. From this 268 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz the Sorceress drew an immense white pearl, attached to a slender chain which she placed around her neck in such a way that the pearl rested upon her bosom, directly over her heart. “Now,” said she, “I will ask my first question: Why did the Wizard pay you three visits?” “Because I would not come to him,” answered Mombi. “That is no answer,” said Glinda, sternly. “Tell me the truth.” “Well,” returned Mombi, with downcast eyes, “he visited me to learn the way I make tea-biscuits.” “Look up!” commanded the Sorceress. Mombi obeyed. g - “What is the color of my pearl?” demanded Glinda. “Why—it is black!” replied the old Witch, in a tone of wonder. “Then you have told me a falsehood!” cried Glinda, angrily. “Only when the truth is spoken will my magic pearl remain a pure white in color.” Mombi now saw how useless it was to try to de- ceive the Sorceress; so she said, meanwhile scowling at her defeat: “The Wizard brought to me the girl Ozma, who was then no more than a baby, and begged me to conceal the child.” 269 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz “That is what I thought,” declared Glinda, calmly. “What did he give you for thus serving him ''' “He taught me all the magical tricks he knew. Some were good tricks, and some were only frauds; but I have remained faithful to my promise.” “What did you do with the girl?” asked Glinda; and at this question everyone bent forward and lis- tened eagerly for the reply. “I enchanted her,” answered Mombi. “In what way?” “I transformed her into—into— “Into what?” demanded Glinda, as the Witch hesitated. “Into a boy/’’ said Mombi, in a low tone. “A boy!” echoed every voice; and then, because they knew that this old woman had reared Tip from childhood, all eyes were turned to where the boy stood. “Yes,” said the old Witch, nodding her head; “that is the Princess Ozma—the child brought to me by the Wizard who stole her father's throne. That is the rightful ruler of the Emerald City!” and she pointed her long bony finger straight at the boy. “I’l” cried Tip, in amazement. “Why, I'm no Princess Ozma—I’m not a girl!” Glinda smiled, and going to Tip she took his small brown hand within her dainty white one. 2 270 FTſūſīš Wººl %sº §§§ NWºº - § £&@º £º % Žº %2% § MOMBI POINTED HER LONG, BONY FINGER AT THE BOY. 2 71 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz “You are not a girl just now,” said she, gently, “because Mombi transformed you into a boy. But you were born a girl, and also a Princess; so you must resume your proper form, that you may become Queen of the Emerald City.” “Oh, let Jinjur be the Queen!” exclaimed Tip, ready to cry. “I want to stay a boy, and travel with the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, and the Woggle- Bug, and Jack—yes! and my friend the Saw-Horse —and the Gump! I don't want to be a girl!” “Never mind, old chap,” said the Tin Woodman, soothingly; “it don't hurt to be a girl, I'm told; and we will all remain your faithful friends just the same. And, to be honest with you, I've always considered girls nicer than boys.” “They're just as nice, anyway,” added the Scare- crow, patting Tip affectionately upon the head. “And they are equally good students,” proclaimed the Woggle-Bug, “I should like to become your tutor, when you are transformed into a girl again.” “But—see here!” said Jack Pumpkinhead, with a gasp: “if you become a girl, you can't be my dear father any more!” “No,” answered Tip, laughing in spite of his anxi- ety; “and I shall not be sorry to escape the relation- ship.” Then he added, hesitatingly, as he turned to 272 Glinda: “I might try it for awhile, just to see how it seems, you know. But if I don't like being a girl you must promise to change me into a boy again.” “Really,” said the Sorceress, “that is beyond my magic. I never deal in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable sorceress likes to make things appear to be what they are not. Only un- scrupulous witches use the art, and therefore I must ask Mombi to effect your release from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. It will be the last opportunity she will have to practice magic.” 273 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz Now that the truth about Princess Ozma had been discovered, Mombi did not care what became of Tip; but she feared Glinda's anger, and the boy generously promised to provide for Mombi in her old age if he became the ruler of the Emerald City. So the Witch consented to effect the transformation, and prepara- tions for the event were at once made. Glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of the tent. It was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk, and from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink gossa- mer, completely concealing the interior of the couch. The first act of the Witch was to make the boy drink a potion which quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. Then the Tin Woodman and the Woggle-Bug bore him gently to the couch, placed him upon the soft cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to shut him from all earthly view. The Witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire of dried herbs, which she drew from her bosom. When the blaze shot up and burned clearly old Mombi scattered a handful of magical powder over the fire, which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent with its fragrance and forcing the Saw-Horse to sneeze—although he had been warned to keep quiet. 274 MOMBI AT HER MAGICAL INCANTATIONS. Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz Then, while the others watched her curiously, the hag chanted a rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean body seven times back and forth over the fire. And now the incantation seemed complete, for the Witch stood upright and cried the one word “Yeowal” in a loud voice. The vapor floated away; the atmosphere became clear again; a whiff of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly, as if stirred from within. Glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. Then she bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a May morning. Her eyes sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. All adown her back floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them at the brow. Her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet. At this exquisite vision Tip's old comrades stared in wonder for the space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest admiration of the lovely Princess Ozma. The girl herself cast one look into Glinda's bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then turned upon the 276 Pr in c e s s O z m a o f Oz others. Speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said: “I hope none of you will care less for me than you did before. I’m just the same Tip, you know; only — only—” “Only you're different!” said the Pumpkinhead; and everyone thought it was the wisest speech he had ever made. 278 oraterºt When the wonderful tidings reached the ears of Queen Jinjur—how Mombi the Witch had been cap- tured; how she had confessed her crime to Glinda; and how the long-lost Princess Ozma had been dis- covered in no less a personage than the boy Tip— she wept real tears of grief and despair. “To think,” she moaned, “that after having ruled as Queen, and lived in a palace, I must go back to scrubbing floors and churning butter again! It is too horrible to think of] I will never consent!” So when her soldiers, who spent most of their time making fudge in the palace kitchens, counseled Jin- jur to resist, she listened to their foolish prattle and sent a sharp defiance to Glinda the Good and the Princess Ozma. The result was a declaration of war, and the very next day Glinda marched upon the Em- erald City with pennants flying and bands playing, 279 The Rich e s of C on ten t and a forest of shining spears sparkling brightly beneath the sun's rays. But when it came to the walls this brave assembly made a sudden halt; for Jinjur had closed and barred every gateway, and the walls of the Emerald City were builded high and thick with many blocks of green marble. Finding her advance thus baffled, Glinda bent her brows in deep thought, while the Woggle-Bug said, in his most positive tone: “We must lay siege to the city, and starve it into submission. It is the only thing we can do.” “Not so,” answered the Scarecrow. “We still have the Gump, and the Gump can still fly.” The Sorceress turned quickly at this speech, and her face now wore a bright smile. “You are right,” she exclaimed, “and certainly have reason to be proud of your brains. Let us go to the Gump at once!” So they passed through the ranks of the army until they came to the place, near the Scarecrow's tent, where the Gump lay. Glinda and Princess Ozma mounted first, and sat upon the sofas. Then the Scarecrow and his friends climbed aboard, and still there was room for a Captain and three soldiers, which Glinda considered sufficient for a guard. Now, at a word from the Princess, the queer 280 Thing they had called the Gump flopped its palm- leaf wings and rose into the air, carrying the party of adventurers high above the walls. They hovered over the palace, and soon perceived Jinjur reclining in a hammock in the courtyard, where she was comfortably reading a novel with a green cover and eating green chocolates, confident that the walls would protect her from her enemies. Obeying a quick command, the Gump alighted safely in this very courtyard, and before Jinjur had time to do more than scream, the Captain and three soldiers 281 The Rich e s of C on ten t leaped out and made the former Queen a prisoner, locking strong chains upon both her wrists. That act really ended the war; for the Army of Revolt submitted as soon as they knew Jinjur to be a captive, and the Captain marched in safety through the streets and up to the gates of the city, which she threw wide open. Then the bands played their most stirring music while Glinda's army marched into the city, and heralds proclaimed the conquest of the audacious Jinjur and the accession of the beautiful Princess Ozma to the throne of her royal an CeStorS. At once the men of the Emerald City cast off their aprons. And it is said that the women were so tired eating of their husbands' cooking that they The Rich e s of C on ten t all hailed the conquest of Jinjur with joy. Certain it is that, rushing one and all to the kitchens of their houses, the good wives prepared so delicious a feast for the weary men that harmony was immediately restored in every family. Ozma's first act was to oblige the Army of Revolt to return to her every emerald or other gem stolen from the public streets and buildings; and so great was the number of precious stones picked from their settings by these vain girls, that every one of the royal jewelers worked steadily for more than a month to replace them in their settings. Meantime the Army of Revolt was disbanded and the girls sent home to their mothers. On promise of good behavior Jinjur was likewise released. Ozma made the loveliest Queen the Emerald City had ever known; and, although she was so young and inexperienced, she ruled her people with wisdom and justice. For Glinda gave her good advice on all occasions; and the Woggle-Bug, who was appointed to the important post of Public Educator, was quite helpful to Ozma when her royal duties grew per- plexing. The girl, in her gratitude to the Gump for its services, offered the creature any reward it might Ilal IIl C. 283 The Rich e s of C on ten t “Then,” replied the Gump, “please take me to pieces. I did not wish to be brought to life, and I am greatly ashamed of my conglomerate personality. Once I was a monarch of the forest, as my antlers fully prove; but now, in my present upholstered condition of servitude, I am compelled to fly through the air—my legs being of no use to me whatever. Therefore I beg to be dispersed.” So Ozma ordered the Gump taken apart. The antlered head was again hung over the mantle-piece in the hall, and the sofas were untied and placed in the reception parlors. The broom tail resumed its accustomed duties in the kitchen, and finally, the Scarecrow replaced all the clotheslines and ropes on the pegs from which he had taken them on the event- ful day when the Thing was constructed. You might think that was the end of the Gump; and so it was, as a flying-machine. But the head over the mantle-piece continued to talk whenever it took a notion to do so, and it frequently startled, with its abrupt questions, the people who waited in the hall for an audience with the Queen. The Saw-Horse, being Ozma's personal property, was tenderly cared for; and often she rode the queer creature along the streets of the Emerald City. She had its wooden legs shod with gold, to keep them 284 TREASURY DEPARTMENT The Rich e s of C on ten t from wearing out, and the tinkle of these golden shoes upon the pavement always filled the Queen's subjects with awe as they thought upon this evidence of her magical powers. “The Wonderful Wizard was never so wonderful as Queen Ozma,” the people said to one another, in whispers; “for he claimed to do many things he could not do; whereas our new Queen does many things no one would ever expect her to accomplish.” Jack Pumpkinhead remained with Ozma to the end of his days; and he did not spoil as soon as he had feared, although he always remained as stupid as ever. The Woggle-Bug tried to teach him several arts and sciences; but Jack was so poor a student that any attempt to educate him was soon abandoned. After Glinda's army had marched back home, and peace was restored to the Emerald City, the Tin Woodman announced his intention to return to his own Kingdom of the Winkies. “It isn't a very big Kingdom,” said he to Ozma, “but for that very reason it is easier to rule; and I have called myself an Emperor because I am an Absolute Monarch, and no one interferes in any way with my conduct of public or personal affairs. When I get home I shall have a new coat of nickel plate; for I have become somewhat marred and scratched lately; 285 The Rich e s of C on ten t and then I shall be glad to have you pay me a visit.” “Thank you,” replied Ozma. “Some day I may accept the invitation. But what is to become of the Scarecrow P” “I shall return with my friend the Tin Woodman,” said the stuffed one, seriously. “We have decided never to be parted in the future.” “And I have made the Scarecrow my Royal Treasurer,” explained the Tin Woodman. “For it has occurred to me that it is a good thing to have a Royal Treasurer who is made of money. What do you think?” “I think,” said the little Queen, smiling, “that your friend must be the richest man in all the world.” “I am,” returned the Scarecrow; “but not on account of my money. For I consider brains far superior to money, in every way. You may have noticed that if one has money without brains, he cannot use it to advantage; but if one has brains without money, they will enable him to live com- fortably to the end of his days.” • “At the same time,” declared the Tin Woodman, “you must acknowledge that a good heart is a thing that brains can not create, and that money can not buy. Perhaps, after all, it is I who am the richest man in all the world.” 286 The Rich e s of C on ten t ſ “You are both rich, my friends,” said Ozma, gently; “and your riches are the only riches worth having— the riches of content!” 287 - - lº i. . - -- º - - - - - ---