Oz, The Complete Collection

by L. Frank Baum

  “I want to go home again,” she said.

  “Well, why don’t you?” said he.

  “I don’t know which road to take.”

  “That is too bad,” he said, shaking his shaggy head gravely. “I wish I could help you; but I can’t. I’m a stranger in these parts.”

  “Seems as if I were, too,” she said, sitting down beside him. “It’s funny. A few minutes ago I was home, and I just came to show you the way to Butterfield—”

  “So I shouldn’t make a mistake and go there—”

  “And now I’m lost myself and don’t know how to get home!”

  “Have an apple,” suggested the shaggy man, handing her one with pretty red cheeks.

  “I’m not hungry,” said Dorothy, pushing it away.

  “But you may be, to-morrow; then you’ll be sorry you didn’t eat the apple,” said he.

  “If I am, I’ll eat the apple then,” promised Dorothy.

  “Perhaps there won’t be any apple then,” he returned, beginning to eat the red-cheeked one himself. “Dogs sometimes can find their way home better than people,” he went on; “perhaps your dog can lead you back to the farm.”

  “Will you, Toto?” asked Dorothy.

  Toto wagged his tail vigorously.

  “All right,” said the girl; “let’s go home.”

  Toto looked around a minute and dashed up one of the roads.

  “Good-bye, Shaggy Man,” called Dorothy, and ran after Toto. The little dog pranced briskly along for some distance, when he turned around and looked at his mistress questioningly.

  “Oh, don’t ’spect me to tell you anything; I don’t know the way,” she said. “You’ll have to find it yourself.”

  But Toto couldn’t. He wagged his tail, and sneezed, and shook his ears, and trotted back where they had left the shaggy man. From here he started along another road; then came back and tried another; but each time he found the way strange and decided it would not take them to the farm-house. Finally, when Dorothy had begun to tire with chasing after him, Toto sat down panting beside the shaggy man and gave up.

  Dorothy sat down, too, very thoughtful. The little girl had encountered some queer adventures since she came to live at the farm; but this was the queerest of them all. To get lost in fifteen minutes, so near to her home and in the unromantic State of Kansas, was an experience that fairly bewildered her.

  “Will your folks worry?” asked the shaggy man, his eyes twinkling in a pleasant way.

  “I s’pose so,” answered Dorothy with a sigh. “Uncle Henry says there’s always something happening to me; but I’ve always come home safe at the last. So perhaps he’ll take comfort and think I’ll come home safe this time.”

  “I’m sure you will,” said the shaggy man, smilingly nodding at her. “Good little girls never come to any harm, you know. For my part, I’m good, too; so nothing ever hurts me.”

  Dorothy looked at him curiously. His clothes were shaggy, his boots were shaggy and full of holes, and his hair and whiskers were shaggy. But his smile was sweet and his eyes were kind.

  “Why didn’t you want to go to Butterfield?” she asked.

  “Because a man lives there who owes me fifteen cents, and if I went to Butterfield and he saw me he’d want to pay me the money. I don’t want money, my dear.”

  “Why not?” she inquired.

  “Money,” declared the shaggy man, “makes people proud and haughty; I don’t want to be proud and haughty. All I want is to have people love me; and as long as I own the Love Magnet, everyone I meet is sure to love me dearly.”

  “The Love Magnet! Why, what’s that?”

  “I’ll show you, if you won’t tell any one,” he answered, in a low, mysterious voice.

  “There isn’t any one to tell, ’cept Toto,” said the girl.

  The shaggy man searched in one pocket, carefully; and in another pocket; and in a third. At last he drew out a small parcel wrapped in crumpled paper and tied with a cotton string. He unwound the string, opened the parcel, and took out a bit of metal shaped like a horseshoe. It was dull and brown, and not very pretty.

  “This, my dear,” said he, impressively, “is the wonderful Love Magnet. It was given me by an Eskimo in the Sandwich Islands—where there are no sandwiches at all—and as long as I carry it every living thing I meet will love me dearly.”

  “Why didn’t the Eskimo keep it?” she asked, looking at the Magnet with interest.

  “He got tired of being loved and longed for some one to hate him. So he gave me the Magnet and the very next day a grizzly bear ate him.”

  “Wasn’t he sorry then?” she inquired.

  “He didn’t say,” replied the shaggy man, wrapping and tying the Love Magnet with great care and putting it away in another pocket. “But the bear didn’t seem sorry a bit,” he added.

  “Did you know the bear?” asked Dorothy.

  “Yes; we used to play ball together in the Caviar Islands. The bear loved me because I had the Love Magnet. I couldn’t blame him for eating the Eskimo, because it was his nature to do so.”

  “Once,” said Dorothy, “I knew a Hungry Tiger who longed to eat fat babies, because it was his nature to; but he never ate any because he had a Conscience.”

  “This bear,” replied the shaggy man, with a sigh, “had no Conscience, you see.”

  The shaggy man sat silent for several minutes, apparently considering the cases of the bear and the tiger, while Toto watched him with an air of great interest. The little dog was doubtless thinking of his ride in the shaggy man’s pocket and planning to keep out of reach in the future.

  At last the shaggy man turned and inquired, “What’s your name, little girl?”

  “My name’s Dorothy,” said she, jumping up again, “but what are we going to do? We can’t stay here forever, you know.”

  “Let’s take the seventh road,” he suggested. “Seven is a lucky number for little girls named Dorothy.”

  “The seventh from where?”

  “From where you begin to count.”

  So she counted seven roads, and the seventh looked just like all the others; but the shaggy man got up from the ground where he had been sitting and started down this road as if sure it was the best way to go; and Dorothy and Toto followed him.

  Chapter 2

  DOROTHY MEETS BUTTON-BRIGHT

  he seventh road was a good road, and curved this way and that—winding through green meadows and fields covered with daisies and buttercups and past groups of shady trees. There were no houses of any sort to be seen, and for some distance they met with no living creature at all.

  Dorothy began to fear they were getting a good way from the farm-house, since here everything was strange to her; but it would do no good at all to go back where the other roads all met, because the next one they chose might lead her just as far from home.

  She kept on beside the shaggy man, who whistled cheerful tunes to beguile the journey, until by-and-by they followed a turn in the road and saw before them a big chestnut tree making a shady spot over the highway. In the shade sat a little boy dressed in sailor clothes, who was digging a hole in the earth with a bit of wood. He must have been digging some time, because the hole was already big enough to drop a foot-ball into.

  Dorothy and Toto and the shaggy man came to a halt before the little boy, who kept on digging in a sober and persistent fashion.

  “Who are you?” asked the girl.

  He looked up at her calmly. His face was round and chubby and his eyes were big, blue, and earnest.

  “I’m Button-Bright,” said he.

  “But what’s your real name?” she inquired.

  “Button-Bright.”

  “That isn’t a really-truly name!” she exclaimed.

  “Isn’t it?” he asked, still digging.

  “’Course not. It’s just a—a thing to call you by. You must have a name.”

  “Must I?”

  “To be sure. What does your mama call you?”

&n
bsp; He paused in his digging and tried to think.

  “Papa always said I was bright as a button; so mama always called me Button-Bright,” he said.

  “What is your papa’s name?”

  “Just Papa.”

  “What else?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Never mind,” said the shaggy man, smiling. “We’ll call the boy Button-Bright, as his mama does. That name is as good as any, and better than some.”

  Dorothy watched the boy dig.

  “Where do you live?” she asked.

  “Don’t know,” was the reply.

  “How did you come here?”

  “Don’t know,” he said again.

  “Don’t you know where you came from?”

  “No,” said he.

  “Why, he must be lost,” she said to the shaggy man. She turned to the boy once more.

  “What are you going to do?” she inquired.

  “Dig,” said he.

  “But you can’t dig forever; and what are you going to do then?” she persisted.

  “Don’t know,” said the boy.

  “But you must know something,” declared Dorothy, getting provoked.

  “Must I?” he asked, looking up in surprise.

  “Of course you must.”

  “What must I know?”

  “What’s going to become of you, for one thing,” she answered.

  “Do you know what’s going to become of me?” he asked.

  “Not—not ’zactly,” she admitted.

  “Do you know what’s going to become of you?” he continued, earnestly.

  “I can’t say I do,” replied Dorothy, remembering her present difficulties.

  The shaggy man laughed.

  “No one knows everything, Dorothy,” he said.

  “But Button-Bright doesn’t seem to know anything,” she declared. “Do you, Button-Bright?”

  He shook his head, which had pretty curls all over it, and replied with perfect calmness:

  “Don’t know.”

  Never before had Dorothy met with anyone who could give her so little information. The boy was evidently lost, and his people would be sure to worry about him. He seemed two or three years younger than Dorothy, and was prettily dressed, as if someone loved him dearly and took much pains to make him look well. How, then, did he come to be in this lonely road? she wondered.

  Near Button-Bright, on the ground, lay a sailor hat with a gilt anchor on the band. His sailor trousers were long and wide at the bottom, and the broad collar of his blouse had gold anchors sewed on its corners. The boy was still digging at his hole.

  “Have you ever been to sea?” asked Dorothy.

  “To see what?” answered Button-Bright.

  “I mean, have you ever been where there’s water?”

  “Yes,” said Button-Bright; “there’s a well in our back yard.”

  “You don’t understand,” cried Dorothy. “I mean, have you ever been on a big ship floating on a big ocean?”

  “Don’t know,” said he.

  “Then why do you wear sailor clothes?”

  “Don’t know,” he answered, again.

  Dorothy was in despair.

  “You’re just awful stupid, Button-Bright,” she said.

  “Am I?” he asked.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “Why?” looking up at her with big eyes.

  She was going to say: “Don’t know,” but stopped herself in time.

  “That’s for you to answer,” she replied.

  “It’s no use asking Button-Bright questions,” said the shaggy man, who had been eating another apple; “but someone ought to take care of the poor little chap, don’t you think? So he’d better come along with us.”

  Toto had been looking with great curiosity in the hole which the boy was digging, and growing more and more excited every minute, perhaps thinking that Button-Bright was after some wild animal. The little dog began barking loudly and jumped into the hole himself, where he began to dig with his tiny paws, making the earth fly in all directions. It spattered over the boy. Dorothy seized him and raised him to his feet, brushing his clothes with her hand.

  “Stop that, Toto!” she called. “There aren’t any mice or woodchucks in that hole, so don’t be foolish.”

  Toto stopped, sniffed at the hole suspiciously, and jumped out of it, wagging his tail as if he had done something important.

  “Well,” said the shaggy man, “let’s start on, or we won’t get anywhere before night comes.”

  “Where do you expect to get to?” asked Dorothy.

  “I’m like Button-Bright; I don’t know,” answered the shaggy man, with a laugh. “But I’ve learned from long experience that every road leads somewhere, or there wouldn’t be any road; so it’s likely that if we travel long enough, my dear, we will come to some place or another in the end. What place it will be we can’t even guess at this moment, but we’re sure to find out when we get there.”

  “Why, yes,” said Dorothy; “that seems reas’n’ble, Shaggy Man.”

  Chapter 3

  A QUEER VILLAGE

  utton-Bright took the shaggy man’s hand willingly; for the shaggy man had the Love Magnet, you know, which was the reason Button-Bright had loved him at once. They started on, with Dorothy on one side, and Toto on the other, the little party trudging along more cheerfully than you might have supposed. The girl was getting used to queer adventures, which interested her very much. Wherever Dorothy went Toto was sure to go, like Mary’s little lamb. Button-Bright didn’t seem a bit afraid or worried because he was lost, and the shaggy man had no home, perhaps, and was as happy in one place as in another.

  Before long they saw ahead of them a fine big arch spanning the road, and when they came nearer they found that the arch was beautifully carved and decorated with rich colors. A row of peacocks with spread tails ran along the top of it, and all the feathers were gorgeously painted. In the center was a large fox’s head, and the fox wore a shrewd and knowing expression and had large spectacles over its eyes and a small golden crown with shiny points on top of its head.

  While the travelers were looking with curiosity at this beautiful arch there suddenly marched out of it a company of soldiers—only the soldiers were all foxes dressed in uniforms. They wore green jackets and yellow pantaloons, and their little round caps and their high boots were a bright red color. Also, there was a big red bow tied about the middle of each long, bushy tail. Each soldier was armed with a wooden sword having an edge of sharp teeth set in a row, and the sight of these teeth at first caused Dorothy to shudder.

  A captain marched in front of the company of fox-soldiers, his uniform embroidered with gold braid to make it handsomer than the others.

  Almost before our friends realized it the soldiers had surrounded them on all sides, and the captain was calling out in a harsh voice:

  “Surrender! You are our prisoners.”

  “What’s a pris’ner?” asked Button-Bright.

  “A prisoner is a captive,” replied the fox-captain, strutting up and down with much dignity.

  “What’s a captive?” asked Button-Bright.

  “You’re one,” said the captain.

  That made the shaggy man laugh.

  “Good afternoon, captain,” he said, bowing politely to all the foxes and very low to their commander. “I trust you are in good health, and that your families are all well?”

  The fox-captain looked at the shaggy man, and his sharp features grew pleasant and smiling.

  “We’re pretty well, thank you, Shaggy Man,” said he; and Dorothy knew that the Love Magnet was working and that all the foxes now loved the shaggy man because of it. But Toto didn’t know this, for he began barking angrily and tried to bite the captain’s hairy leg where it showed between his red boots and his yellow pantaloons.

  “Stop, Toto!” cried the little girl, seizing the dog in her arms. “These are our friends.”

  “Why, so we are!” remarked the cap
tain in tones of astonishment. “I thought at first we were enemies, but it seems you are friends instead. You must come with me to see King Dox.”

  “Who’s he?” asked Button-Bright, with earnest eyes.

  “King Dox of Foxville; the great and wise sovereign who rules over our community.”

  “What’s sov’rin, and what’s c’u’nity?” inquired Button-Bright.

  “Don’t ask so many questions, little boy.”

  “Why?”

  “Ah, why indeed?” exclaimed the captain, looking at Button-Bright admiringly. “If you don’t ask questions you will learn nothing. True enough. I was wrong. You’re a very clever little boy, come to think of it—very clever indeed. But now, friends, please come with me, for it is my duty to escort you at once to the royal palace.”

  The soldiers marched back through the arch again, and with them marched the shaggy man, Dorothy, Toto, and Button-Bright. Once through the opening they found a fine, big city spread out before them, all the houses of carved marble in beautiful colors. The decorations were mostly birds and other fowl, such as peacocks, pheasants, turkeys, prairie-chickens, ducks, and geese. Over each doorway was carved a head representing the fox who lived in that house, this effect being quite pretty and unusual.

  As our friends marched along, some of the foxes came out on the porches and balconies to get a view of the strangers. These foxes were all handsomely dressed, the girl-foxes and women-foxes wearing gowns of feathers woven together effectively and colored in bright hues which Dorothy thought were quite artistic and decidedly attractive.

  Button-Bright stared until his eyes were big and round, and he would have stumbled and fallen more than once had not the shaggy man grasped his hand tightly. They were all interested, and Toto was so excited he wanted to bark every minute and to chase and fight every fox he caught sight of; but Dorothy held his little wiggling body fast in her arms and commanded him to be good and behave himself. So he finally quieted down, like a wise doggy, deciding there were too many foxes in Foxville to fight at one time.

  By-and-by they came to a big square, and in the center of the square stood the royal palace. Dorothy knew it at once because it had over its great door the carved head of a fox just like the one she had seen on the arch, and this fox was the only one who wore a golden crown.