Oz, The Complete Collection

by L. Frank Baum

  “May I speak to you alone?” The Grand Chew Chew waved his hand imperiously, and the courtiers with a great crackling of silver brocade backed from the hall.

  “Very kind of them to bow, but I wish they wouldn’t,” sighed the Scarecrow, sinking back on the great throne. “It blows one about so. I declare, if another person falls at my feet, I’ll have nervous prostration.”

  Again he took a long survey of the hall, then turned to the Grand Chew Chew. “Would you mind,” he asked simply, “telling me again who I am and how?”

  “Who and how? Who—You are, illustrious Sir, the Emperor Chang Wang Woe, or to be more exact, his spirit!”

  “I have always been a spirited person,” observed the Scarecrow dubiously, “but never a spirit without a person. I must insist on being a person.”

  “How?” the Grand Chew Chew proceeded without noticing the Scarecrow’s remarks. “Fifty years ago—after your Extreme Highness had defeated in battle the King of the Golden Islands—a magician entered the realm. This magician, in the employ of this wicked king, entered a room in the palace where your Highness lay sleeping and by an act of necromancy changed you to a crocus!”

  “Ouch!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, shuddering involuntarily.

  “And had it not been for the Empress, your faithful wife, you would have been lost forever to the Empire.”

  “Wife?” gasped the Scarecrow faintly. “Have I a wife?”

  “If your Highness will permit me to finish,” begged the Grand Chew Chew with great dignity. The Scarecrow nodded. “Your wife, Tsing Tsing, the beautiful, took the crocus, which was fading rapidly, and planted it in a silver bowl in the center of this very hall and for three days kept it fresh with her tears. Waking on the third morning, the Empress was amazed to see in place of the crocus a giant bean pole that extended to the roof of the palace and disappeared among the clouds.”

  “Ah!” murmured the Scarecrow, looking up, “My family tree!”

  “Beside the bean pole lay a crumpled parchment.” The Grand Chew Chew felt in the sleeve of his kimono and brought out a bit of crumpled silver paper, and adjusting his horn spectacles, read slowly.

  “Into the first being who touches this magic pole—on the other side of the world—the spirit of Emperor Chang Wang Woe will enter. And fifty years from this day, he will return—to save his people.”

  The Grand Chew Chew took off his specs and folded up the paper. “The day has come! You have come down the bean pole, and are undoubtedly that being who has gone from Emperor to crocus to Scarecrowcus. I have ruled the Islands these fifty years; have seen to the education of your sons and grandsons. And now, gracious and exalted Master, as I am an old man I ask you to relieve me from the cares of state.”

  “Sons! Grandsons!” choked the Scarecrow, beginning to feel very much alarmed indeed. “How old am I?”

  “Your Highness,” said the Grand Chew Chew with a deep salaam, “is as old as I. In other words, you are in the ripe and glorious eighty-fifth year of your Majesty’s illustrious and useful age.”

  “Eighty five!” gasped the Scarecrow, staring in dismay at the grey, wrinkled face of the old Silverman. “Now see here, Chew Chew, are you sure of that?”

  “Quite sure, Immortal and Honored Master!”

  The Scarecrow could not help but be convinced of the truth of the Grand Chew Chew’s story. The pole in the Munchkin farmer’s cornfield was none other than the magic beanstalk, and he, thrust on the pole by the farmer to scare away the crows, had received the spirit of the Emperor Chang Wang Woe. “Which accounts for my cleverness,” he thought gloomily. Now, surely he should have been pleased, for he had come in search of a family, but the acquisition of an empire, sons and grandsons, and old age, all in a trice, fairly took his breath away.

  “Does the prophecy say anything about restoring my imperial person?” he asked anxiously, for the thought of looking like Chew Chew was not a cheerful one.

  “Alas, no!” sighed the Grand Chew Chew sorrowfully. “But we have very clever wizards on the Island, and I shall set them at work on the problem at once.”

  “Now don’t be in such a rush,” begged the Scarecrow, secretly determined to lock up the wizards at the first opportunity. “I’m rather fond of this shape. You see, it requires no food and never grows tired—or old!”

  “The royal robes will in a measure conceal it,” murmured the Grand Chew Chew politely, and clapped his hands. A little servitor bounced into the hall.

  “A royal robe, Quick Silver, for his Radiant Highness,” snapped the Grand Chew Chew. In a moment Quick Silver had returned with a magnificent purple satin robe embroidered in silver threads and heavy with jewels, and a hat of silver cloth with upturned brim. The Scarecrow wrapped himself in the purple robe, took off his old Munchkin hat, and substituted the Imperial headpiece.

  “How do I look, Chew?” he asked anxiously.

  “Quite like your old Imperial Self, except—” The old Prime Minister ran unsteadily out of the room. There was a muffled scream from the hall, and the next instant he returned with a long, shiny, silver queue which he had evidently clipped from the head of one of the servants. Removing the Scarecrow’s hat, he pinned the queue to the back, set it on the Scarecrow’s head, and stood regarding him with great satisfaction. “Ah, if the Empress could only see you!” he murmured rapturously.

  “Where—where is she?” asked the Scarecrow, looking around nervously. His long, care-free life in Oz had somewhat unfitted him, he reflected, for family life.

  “Alas!” sighed the Grand Chew Chew, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his kimono, “She has returned to her silver ancestors.”

  “Then show me her picture,” commanded the Scarecrow, visibly affected. The Grand Chew Chew stepped to a side wall, and pulling on a silken cord, disclosed the picture of a large, grey lady with curiously small eyes and a curiously large nose.

  “Is she not beautiful?” asked the Grand Chew Chew, bowing his head.

  “Beautiful—er—er, beautiful!” gulped the Scarecrow. He thought of lovely little Ozma and dear little Dorothy, and all at once felt terribly upset and homesick. He had no recollection of the Silver Islands or his life here whatever. Who was he, anyway—the Scarecrow of Oz or Emperor Chang Wang Woe? He couldn’t be both.

  “Ah!” whispered the Grand Chew Chew, seeing his agitation. “You remember her?” The Scarecrow shook his head, with an inward shudder.

  “Now show me myself, Chew,” he asked curiously. Pulling the cord of a portrait beside the Empress, Chew Chew revealed the picture of Chang Wang Woe as he had been fifty years ago. His face was bland and jolly, and to be perfectly truthful, quite like the Scarecrow’s in shape and expression. “I am beside myself,” murmured the Scarecrow dazedly—which in truth he was.

  “You were—er—are a very royal and handsome person,” stammered the Grand Chew Chew.

  The Scarecrow, stepping off the throne to examine himself more closely, dropped the little fan and parasol. He had really not had time to examine them since they snapped off the beanstalk, and now, looking at them carefully, he found them extremely pretty.

  “Dorothy will like these,” thought the Scarecrow, slipping them into a large inside pocket of his robe. Already, in the back of his head, was a queer notion that he would at some time or other return to Oz. He started to give the Grand Chew Chew a spirited description of that wonderful country, but the ancient gentleman yawned and, waving his hands toward the door, interrupted him with:

  “Would not your Supreme Highness care to inspect your present dominions?”

  “I suppose I may as well!” With a deep sigh, the Scarecrow took the Grand Chew Chew’s arm and, holding up his royal kimono (which was rather long) with the other hand, walked unsteadily down the great salon. They were about to pass into the garden when a little fat Silverman slid around the door, a huge silver drumstick upraised in his right hand and a great drum hung about his neck.

  The drummer beamed on the Scarecrow.

&nb
sp; “Chang Wang Woe, the Beautiful,

  The Beautiful has come!

  Sublime and silver Scarecrow,

  Let sound the royal drum!”

  chanted the little man in a high, thin voice, and started to bring the drumstick down upon the huge head of his noisy instrument.

  “No you don’t!” cried the Scarecrow, leaping forward and catching his arm.

  “I positively forbid it!”

  “Then I shall have no work!” screamed the drummer, falling on his face. “Ah, Gracious Master, don’t you remember me?”

  “Yes,” said the Scarecrow kindly, “who are you?”

  “Oh, don’t you remember little Happy Toko?” wheezed the little man, the tears rolling down his cheeks. “I was only a boy, but you used to be fond of me.”

  “Why, of course, my dear Tappy,” said the Scarecrow, not liking to hurt the little fellow’s feelings. “But why do you beat the drum?”

  “It is customary to sound the drum at the approach of your Royal Highness,” put in the Grand Chew Chew importantly.

  “Was customary,” said the Scarecrow firmly. “My dear Tappy Oko, never sound it in my presence again; it is too upsetting.” Which was true enough, for one blow of the drum sent the flimsy Scarecrow flying into the air.

  “You’re dismissed, Happy,” snapped the Grand Chew Chew. At this, the little Silver Islander began weeping and roaring with distress.

  “Stop! What else can you do besides beat a drum?” asked the Scarecrow kindly.

  “I can sing, stand on my head, and tell jokes,” sniffed Happy Toko, shuffling from one foot to the other.

  “Very good,” said the Scarecrow. “You are henceforth Imperial Punster to my Person. Come along, we’re going to look over the Island.”

  The Grand Chew Chew frowned so terribly that Happy Toko’s knees shook with terror.

  “It is not fitting for a slave to accompany the Grand Chew Chew and the Emperor,” he hissed angrily.

  The Scarecrow looked surprised, for the Kingdom of Oz is quite democratic, and no one is considered better than another. But seeing this was not the time to argue, he winked broadly behind the Grand Chew Chew’s back.

  “I’ll see you again, Tappy my boy,” he called genially, and passed out into the garden, where a magnificent silver palanquin, surrounded by pikemen and shieldbearers, awaited him.

  Chapter 8

  The SCARECROW STUDIES the SILVER ISLANDS

  wo days had passed since the Scarecrow had fallen into his Kingdom. He was not finding his royal duties as pleasant as he had anticipated. The country was beautiful enough, but being Emperor of the Silver Islands was not the simple affair that ruling Oz had been. The pigtail on the back of his hat was terribly distracting, and he was always tripping over his kimono, to which he could not seem to accustom himself. His subjects were extremely quarrelsome, always pulling one another’s queues or stealing fruit, umbrellas, and silver polish. His ministers, the Grand Chew Chew, the Chief Chow Chow, and General Mugwump, were no better, and keeping peace in the palace took all the Scarecrow’s cleverness.

  In the daytime he tried culprits in the royal court, interviewed his seventeen secretaries, rode out in the royal palanquin, and made speeches to visiting princes. At night he sat in the great silver salon and by the light of the lanterns studied the Book of Ceremonies. His etiquette, the Grand Chew Chew informed him, was shocking. He was always doing something wrong, dodging the Imperial Umbrella, speaking kindly to a palace servant, or walking unattended in the gardens.

  The royal palace itself was richly furnished, and the Scarecrow had more than five hundred robes of state. The gardens, with their sparkling waterfalls, glowing orange trees, silver temples, towers and bridges, were too lovely for words. Poppies, roses, lotus and other lilies perfumed the air, and at night a thousand silver lanterns turned them to a veritable fairyland.

  The grass and trees were green as in other lands, but the sky as always full of tiny silver clouds, the waters surrounding the island were of a lovely liquid silver, and as all the houses and towers were of this gleaming metal, the effect was bewildering and beautiful.

  But the Silver Islanders themselves were too stupid to appreciate this beauty. “And what use is it all when I have no one to enjoy it with me,” sighed the Scarecrow. “And no time to play!”

  In Oz no one thought it queer if Ozma, the little Queen, jumped rope with Dorothy or Betsy Bobbin, or had a quiet game of croquet with the palace cook. But here, alas, everything was different. If the Scarecrow so much as ventured a game of ball with the gardener’s boy, the whole court was thrown into an uproar. At first, the Scarecrow tried to please everybody, but finding that nothing pleased the people in the palace, he decided to please himself.

  “I don’t care a kinkajou if I am the Emperor, I’m going to talk to whom I please!” he exclaimed on the second night, and shaking his glove at a bronze statue, he threw the Book of Ceremonies into the fountain. The next morning, therefore, he ascended the throne with great firmness. Immediately, the courtiers prostrated themselves, and the Scarecrow’s arms and legs blew about wildly.

  “Stand up at once,” puffed the Scarecrow when he had regained his balance.

  “You are giving me nervous prostration. Chew, kindly issue an edict forbidding prostrations. Anyone caught bowing in my presence again shall lose—” the courtiers looked alarmed “—his pigtail!” finished the Scarecrow.

  “And now, Chew, you will take my place, please. I am going for a walk with Tappy Oko.”

  The Grand Chew Chew’s mouth fell open with surprise, but seeing the Scarecrow’s determined expression, he dared not disobey, and he immediately began making strange marks on a long, red parchment. Happy Toko trembled as the Scarecrow Emperor took his arm, and the courtiers stared at one another in dismay as the two walked quietly out into the garden.

  Nothing happened, however, and Tappy, regaining his composure, took out a little silver flute and started a lively tune.

  “I had to take matters into my own hands, Tappy,” said the Scarecrow, listening to the music with a pleased expression. “Are there any words to that song?”

  “Yes, illustrious and Supreme Sir!”

  “Two spoons went down a Por-ce-Lane,

  To meet a China saucer,

  A ’talking China in a way

  To break a white man’s jaw, Sir!”

  sang Happy, and finished by standing gravely on his head.

  “Your Majesty used to be very fond of this song,” spluttered Happy. (It is difficult to speak while upside down, and if you don’t think so, try it!)

  “Ah!” said the Scarecrow, beginning to feel more cheerful, “Tell me something about myself and my family, Tappy Oko.”

  “Happy Toko, if it pleases your Supreme Amiability,” corrected the little silver man, somersaulting to a standstill beside the Scarecrow.

  “It does and it doesn’t,” murmured the Scarecrow. “There is something about you that reminds me of a pudding, and you tapped the drum, didn’t you? I believe I shall call you Tappy Oko, if you don’t mind!”

  The Scarecrow seated himself on a silver bench and motioned for the Imperial Punster to sit down beside him. Tappy Oko sat down fearfully, first making sure that he was not observed.

  “Saving your Imperial Presence, this is not permitted,” said Tappy uneasily.

  “Never mind about my Imperial Presence,” chuckled the Scarecrow. “Tell me about my Imperial Past.”

  “Ah!” said Tappy Oko, rolling up his eyes, “You were one of the most magnificent and magnanimous of monarchs.”

  “Was I?” asked the Scarecrow in a pleased voice.

  “You distributed rice among the poor, and advice among the rich, and fought many glorious battles,” continued the little man. “I composed a little song about you. Perhaps you would like to hear it?”

  The Scarecrow nodded, and Tappy, throwing back his head, chanted with a will:

  “Chang Wang Woe did draw the bow—

&nbs
p; And twist the queues of a thousand foe!”

  “In Oz,” murmured the Scarecrow reflectively as Tappy finished, “I twisted the necks of a flock of wild crows—that was before I had my excellent brains, too. Oh, I’m a fighting man, there’s no doubt about it. But tell me, Tappy, where did I meet my wife?”

  “In the water!” chuckled Tappy Oko, screwing up his eyes.

  “Never!” The Scarecrow looked out over the harbor and then down at his lumpy figure.

  “Your Majesty forgets you were then a man like me—er—not stuffed with straw, I mean,” exclaimed Happy, looking embarrassed. “She was fishing,” continued the little Punster, “when a huge silver fish became entangled in her line. She stood up, the fish gave a mighty leap and pulled her out of the boat. Your Majesty, having seen the whole affair from the bank, plunged bravely into the water and, swimming out, rescued her, freed the fish, and in due time made her your bride. I’ve made a song about that, also.”

  “Let’s hear it,” said the Scarecrow. And this is what Happy sung:

  “Tsing Tsing, a Silver Fisher’s daughter,

  Was fishing in the silver water.

  The moon shone on her silver hair

  And there were fishes everywhere!

  “Then came a mighty silver fish,

  It seized her line and with a swish

  Of silver fins upset her boat.

  Tsing Tsing could neither swim nor float.

  “She raised her silver voice in fear

  And who her call of help should hear

  But Chang Wang Woe, the Emperor,

  Who saved and married her, what’s more!”

  “Did I really?” asked the Scarecrow, feeling quite flattered by Happy’s song.

  “Yes,” said Happy positively, “and invited me to the wedding, though I was only a small boy.”