Oz, The Complete Collection

by L. Frank Baum

  “I wish I were,” said the Scarecrow. “To have an Emperor’s spirit wished on you is no joke, my dear Tappy. It’s a blinking bore!” At that moment, the fireworks commenced. The garden, ablaze with many shaped silver lanterns, looked more like Fairyland than ever. But each rocket made the Scarecrow wince. Showers of stars and butterflies fell ’round his head, fiery dragons leaped over the trees, and in all the Fourth of July celebrations you could imagine there were never such marvelous fireworks as these. No wonder Happy Toko, gazing in delight, forgot his promises to his Royal Master.

  Soon the Scarecrow’s fears were realized, and his straw stuffing began to smoke.

  “Put me out! Put me out!” cried the Scarecrow, as a shower of sparks settled in his lap. The royal band made such a din and the courtiers such a clatter that Happy did not hear.

  All of the Silver Islanders were intent on the display, and they forgot all about their unhappy and smoking Emperor.

  “Help! Water! Water! Fire!” screamed the Scarecrow, jumping off his throne and knocking Happy head over heels. Thus brought to his senses, Happy hurriedly seized the watering can and sprinkled its contents on the smoking Emperor.

  “Am I out?” gasped the Emperor anxiously. “A fine way to celebrate a victory, lighting me up like a Roman candle!”

  “Yes, dear Master,” said the repentant Happy, helping the dripping Scarecrow to his feet, “it only scorched your royal robe. And it’s all over, anyway. Let us go in.”

  The dripping Emperor was quite ready to follow his Imperial Punster’s advice.

  “Now that I am put out, let us by all means go in,” said the Scarecrow gloomily, and the two slipped off without anyone noticing their departure.

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to have some new stuffing tomorrow,” observed the Scarecrow, sinking dejectedly on his throne. “Tappy, my dear boy, after this never leave me alone, do you hear?” Happy Toko made no reply. He had fallen asleep beside the Imperial Throne.

  The Scarecrow might have called his court, but he was in no mood for more of the Silver Islanders’ idea of a good time. He longed for the dear friends of his loved Land of Oz.

  One by one the lights winked out in the gardens, and the noisy company dispersed, and soon no one in the palace was awake but the Scarecrow. His straw was wet and soggy, and even his excellent brains felt damp and dull.

  “If it weren’t for Tappy Oko, how lonely I should be.” He stared through the long, dim, empty hall with its shimmering silver screens and vases. “I wonder what little Dorothy is doing,” sighed the Scarecrow wistfully.

  Chapter 10

  PRINCESS OZMA and BETSY BOBBIN TALK IT OVER

  orothy must be having a lovely time at the Scarecrow’s,” remarked Betsy Bobbin to Ozma one afternoon as they sat reading in the Royal Gardens several days after Dorothy’s departure from the Emerald City of Oz.

  “One always has a jolly time at the Scarecrow’s,” laughed the little Queen of Oz. “I must look in my Magic Picture and see what they are doing. Too bad she missed the A-B-Sea Serpent and Rattlesnakes. Weren’t they the funniest creatures?”

  Both the little girls (for Ozma is really just a little girl) went off into a gale of laughter. The two queer creatures had followed the Scarecrow’s advice and had spent their vacation in the Emerald City, and partly because they were so dazzled by their surroundings and partly because they have no sort of memories whatever, they never mentioned the Scarecrow himself or said anything about his plan to hunt his family tree. They talked incessantly of the Mer City and told innumerable A-B-Sea stories to Scraps and the Tin Woodman and the children of the Emerald City. When they were ready to go, the A-B-Sea Serpent snapped off its X block for Ozma. X, he said, meant almost everything, and pretty well expressed his gratitude to the lovely little Ruler of Oz. Ozma in turn gave each of the visitors an emerald collar, and that very morning they had started back to the Munchkin River, and all the celebrities of Oz had gotten up to see them off.

  “Maybe they’ll come again some time,” said Betsy Bobbin, swinging her feet. “But look, Ozma, here comes a messenger.” A messenger it surely was, dressed in the quaint red costume of the Quadlings. It was from Glinda, the Good Sorceress, and caused the Princess to sigh with vexation.

  “Tell Jack Pumpkinhead to harness the Sawhorse to the Red Wagon,” said Ozma after glancing hastily at the little note. “The Horners and Hoppers are at war again. And tell the Wizard to make ready for a journey.”

  “May I come, too?” asked Betsy. Ozma nodded with a troubled little frown, and Betsy bustled off importantly. Not many little girls are called upon to help settle wars and rule a country as wonderful as Oz.

  The Horners and Hoppers are a quarrelsome and curious folk living in the Quadling mountains, and soon Ozma, Jack Pumpkinhead, Betsy and the Wizard of Oz were rattling off at the best speed the Sawhorse could manage. This was pretty fast, for the little horse, being made of wood and magically brought to life, never tires and could outrun anything on legs in the fairy Kingdom of Oz.

  But the fact that interests us is that Ozma did not look in the Magic Picture or see what exciting adventures the Scarecrow and Dorothy really were having!

  As for Professor Wogglebug, who had caused all the trouble, he was busily at work on the twelfth chapter of the Royal Book of Oz, which he had modestly headed:

  H. M. WOGGLEBUG, T.E., PRINCE OF BUGS,

  Cultured and Eminent Educator

  and also

  Great Grand and General Genealogist of Oz.

  Chapter 11

  SIR HOKUS OVERCOMETH the GIANT

  don’t believe we’ll ever find the way out of this forest.”

  Dorothy stopped with a discouraged little sigh and leaned against a tree. They had followed the road for several hours. First it had been fine and wide, but it had gradually dwindled to a crooked little path that wound crazily in and out through the trees. Although it was almost noonday, not a ray of sun penetrated through the dim green depths.

  “Methinks,” said Sir Hokus, peering into the gloom ahead, “that a great adventure is at hand.”

  The Cowardly Lion put back his ears. “What makes you methink so?” he rumbled anxiously.

  “Hark thee!” said Sir Hokus, holding up his finger warningly. From a great way off sounded a curious thumping. It was coming nearer and nearer.

  “Good gracious!” cried Dorothy, catching hold of the Cowardly Lion’s mane.

  “This is worse than Pokes!”

  “Perchance it is a dragon,” exulted the Knight, drawing his short sword. “Ah, how it would refresh me to slay a dragon!”

  “I don’t relish dragons myself. Scorched my tongue on one once,” said the Cowardly Lion huskily. “But I’ll fight with you, brother Hokus. Stand back, Dorothy dear.”

  As the thuds grew louder, the Knight fairly danced up and down with excitement. “Approach, villain!” he roared lustily.

  “Approach till I impale thee on my lance. Ah, had I but a horse!”

  “I’d let you ride on my back if it weren’t for that hard tin suit,” said the Cowardly Lion. “But cheer up, my dear Hokus, your voice is a little hoarse.” Dorothy giggled nervously, then seized hold of a small tree, for the whole forest was rocking.

  “How now!” gasped the Knight. There was a terrific quake that threw Sir Hokus on his face and sent every hair in the lion’s mane on end, and then a great foot came crashing down through the treetops not three paces from the little party. Before they could even swallow, a giant hand flashed downward, jerked up a handful of trees by the roots, and disappeared, while a voice from somewhere way above shouted:

  “What are little humans for?

  To feed the giant Bangladore.

  Broiled or toasted, baked or roasted,

  I smell three or maybe four!”

  “You hear that?” quavered the Cowardly Lion. Sir Hokus did not answer. His helmet had been jammed down by his fall, and he was tugging it upward with both hands. Frightened though Dorothy was, she
ran to the Knight’s assistance.

  “Have at you!” cried Sir Hokus as soon as the opening in his helmet was opposite his eyes. “Forward!”

  “My heart is beating a retreat,” gulped the Cowardly Lion, but he bounded boldly after Sir Hokus.

  “Varlet!” hissed the Knight, and raising his sword gave a mighty slash at the giant’s ankle, which was broad as three tree trunks, while the Cowardly Lion gave a great spring and sank his teeth in the giant’s huge leg.

  “Ouch!” roared the giant in a voice that shook every leaf in the forest. “You stop, or I’ll tell my father!” With that, he gave a hop that sent Sir Hokus flying into the treetops, stumbling over a huge rock, and came crashing to the earth, smashing trees like grass blades. At the giant’s first scream, Dorothy shut her eyes and, putting her hands over her ears, had run as far and as fast as she could. At the awful crash, she stopped short, opened her eyes, and stared ’round giddily.

  The giant was flat on his back, but as he was stretched as far as four city blocks, only half of him was visible. The Cowardly Lion still clung to his leg, and he was gurgling and struggling in a way Dorothy could not understand.

  She looked around in a panic for the Knight. Just then, Sir Hokus dropped from the branch of a tree.

  “Uds daggers!” he puffed, looking ruefully at his sword, which had snapped off at the handle, “’Tis a pretty rogue!”

  “Don’t you think we’d better run?” shivered Dorothy, thinking of the giant’s song.

  “Not while I wear these colors!” exclaimed Sir Hokus, proudly touching Dorothy’s hair ribbon, which still adorned his arm. “Come, my good Lion, let us dispatch this braggart and saucy monster.”

  “Father!” screamed the giant, making no attempt to move.

  “He seems to be frightened, himself,” whispered Dorothy to the Knight. “But whatever is the matter with the Cowardly Lion?”

  At that minute, the Cowardly Lion gave a great jerk and began backing with his four feet braced. The piece of giant leg that he had hold of stretched and stretched, and while Sir Hokus and Dorothy stared in amazement, it snapped off and the Cowardly Lion rolled head over paws.

  “Taffy!” roared the Cowardly Lion, sitting up and trying to open his jaws, which were firmly stuck together.

  “Taffy!” At this, Sir Hokus sprang nimbly on the giant’s leg, ran up his chest, and perched bravely on his peppermint collar.

  “Surrender, Knave!” he demanded threateningly. Dorothy, seeing she could do nothing to help the Cowardly Lion, followed. On her way up, she broke off a tiny piece of his coat and found it most delicious chocolate.

  “Why, he’s all made of candy!” she cried excitedly.

  “Oh, hush!” sobbed the giant, rolling his great sourball eyes. “I’d be eaten in a minute if it were known.”

  “You were mighty anxious to eat us a while ago,” said Dorothy, looking longingly at the giant’s coat buttons. They seemed to be large marshmallows.

  “Go away!” screamed the giant, shaking so that Dorothy slid into his vest pocket. “No one under forty feet is allowed in this forest!”

  Dorothy climbed crossly out of the giant’s pocket. “We didn’t come because we wanted to,” she assured him, wiping the chocolate off her nose.

  “Odds bodikins! I cannot fight a great baby like this,” sighed Sir Hokus, dodging just in time a great, sugary tear that had rolled down the giant’s nose. “He’s got to apologize for that song, though.”

  “Wait!” cried Dorothy suddenly. “I have an idea. If you set us down on the edge of the forest and give us all your vest buttons for lunch, we won’t tell anyone you’re made of candy. We’ll let you go,” she called loudly, for the giant had begun to sob again.

  “Won’t you? Will you?” sniffed the foolish giant.

  “Never sing that song again!” commanded the Knight sternly.

  “No, Sir,” answered the giant meekly. “Did your dog chew much of my leg, Sir?” Then, before Dorothy or Sir Hokus had time to say a word, they were snatched up in sticky fingers and next minute were dropped with a thump in a large field of daisies.

  “Oh!” spluttered Dorothy as the giant made off on his taffy legs. “Oh, we’ve forgotten the Cowardly Lion!” But at that minute, the giant reappeared, and the lion was dropped beside them.

  “What’s this? What’s this?” growled the Cowardly Lion, looking around wildly.

  “We got him to lift us out of the forest,” explained Dorothy. “Have you swallowed the taffy?” The lion was still dizzy from his ride and only shook his head feebly.

  Sir Hokus sighed and sat heavily down on a large rock. “There is no sort of honor, methinks, in overcoming a candy giant,” he observed, looking wistfully at the plume still pinned to Dorothy’s dress. “Ah, had it but been a proper fight!”

  “You didn’t know he was candy. I think you were just splendid.” Jumping up, Dorothy fastened the plume in the Knight’s helmet. “And you’re talking just beautifully, more like a Knight every minute,” she added with conviction. Sir Hokus tried not to look pleased.

  “Give me a meat enemy! My teeth ache yet! First singing, then candy-leg pulling! Gr-ugh! What next?” growled the Cowardly Lion.

  “Why, lunch, if you feel like eating,” said Dorothy, beginning to give out the vest buttons which the giant had obediently ripped off and left for them. They were marshmallows, the size of pie plates, and Dorothy and Sir Hokus found them quite delicious. The Cowardly Lion, however, after a doubtful sniff and sneeze from the powdered sugar, declined and went off to find something more to his taste.

  “We had better take some of these along,” said Dorothy when she and Sir Hokus had eaten several. “We may need them later.”

  “Everything is yellow, so we must be in the Winkie Country,” announced the Cowardly Lion, who had just returned from his lunch. “There’s a road, too.”

  “Mayhap it will take us to the jeweled city of your gracious Queen.” Sir Hokus shaded his eyes and stared curiously at the long lane stretching invitingly ahead of them.

  “Well, anyway, we’re out of the forest and Pokes, and maybe we’ll meet someone who will tell us about the Scarecrow. Come on!” cried Dorothy gaily. “I think we’re on the right track this time.”

  Chapter 12

  DOROTHY and SIR HOKUS COME to FIX CITY

  he afternoon went pleasantly for the three travelers. The road was wide and shady and really seemed a bit familiar. Dorothy rode comfortably on the Cowardly Lion’s back and to pass the time told Sir Hokus all about Oz. He was particularly interested in the Scarecrow.

  “Grammercy! He should be knighted!” he exclaimed, slapping his knee, as Dorothy told how the clever straw man had helped outwit the Nome King when that wicked little rascal had tried to keep them prisoners in his underground kingdom.

  “But, go to! Where is the gallant man now?” The Knight sobered quickly. “Mayhap in need of a strong arm! Mayhap at the mercy of some terrible monster!”

  “Oh, I hope not!” cried Dorothy, dismayed at so dark a picture. “Why, oh why, did he bother about his family tree?”

  “Trust the Scarecrow to take care of himself,” said the Cowardly Lion in a gruff voice. Nevertheless, he quickened his steps. “The sooner we reach the Emerald City, the sooner we’ll know where he is!”

  The country through which they were passing was beautiful, but quite deserted. About five o’clock, they came to a clear little stream, and after Dorothy and Sir Hokus had washed their faces and the Cowardly Lion had taken a little plunge, they all felt refreshed. Later they came to a fine pear orchard, and as no one was about they helped themselves generously.

  The more Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion saw of Sir Hokus, the fonder of him they grew. He was so kind-hearted and so polite.

  “He’ll be great company for us back in the Emerald City,” whispered the Cowardly Lion as the Knight went off to get Dorothy a drink from a little spring. “That is, if he forgets this grammercy, bludgeon stuff.”

  “I
think it sounds lovely,” said Dorothy, “and he’s remembering more of it all the time. But I wonder why there are no people here. I do hope we meet some before night.” But no person did they meet. As it grew darker, Sir Hokus’ armor began to creak in a quite frightful manner. Armor is not meant for walking, and the poor Knight was stiff and tired, but he made no complaint.

  “Need oiling, don’t you?” asked the Cowardly Lion, peering anxiously at him through the gloom.

  “Joints in my armor a bit rusty,” puffed Sir Hokus, easing one foot and then the other. “Ah, had I my good horse!” He expressively waved a piece of the giant’s button at which he had been nibbling.

  “Better climb up behind Dorothy,” advised the Cowardly Lion, but Sir Hokus shook his head, for he knew the lion was tired, too.

  “I’ll manage famously. This very night I may find me a steed!”

  “How?” asked the lion with a yawn.

  “If I sleep beneath these trees, I may have a Knight mare,” chuckled Sir Hokus triumphantly.

  “Br-rrr!” roared the Cowardly Lion while Dorothy clapped her hands. But they were not to sleep beneath the trees after all, for a sudden turn in the road brought them right to the gates of another city. They knew it must be a city because a huge, lighted sign hung over the gate.

  “Fix City,” read Dorothy. “What a funny name!”

  “Maybe they can fix us up,” rumbled the lion, winking at Sir Hokus.

  “Perchance we shall hear news of the valiant Scarecrow!” cried the Knight, and limping forward he thumped on the gate with his mailed fist. Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion pressed close behind him and waited impatiently for someone to open the gate.

  A bell rang loud back in the town. The next instant, the gates flew open so suddenly that the three adventurers were flung violently on their faces.

  “Out upon them!” blustered Sir Hokus, getting up stiffly and running to help Dorothy. “What way is this to welcome strangers?” He pulled the little girl hastily to her feet, then they all ran forward, for the gates were swinging shut again.