Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “I know,” said Dorothy, nodding. “I found him, and lifted him down from his pole.”

  “So now, after a long residence in the Emerald City, his tastes have turned to farm life again,” continued the Tin Man. “He feels that he cannot be happy without a farm of his own, so Ozma gave him some land and every one helped him build his mansion, and now he is settled there for good.”

  “Who designed his house?” asked the Shaggy Man.

  “I believe it was Jack Pumpkinhead, who is also a farmer,” was the reply.

  They were now invited to enter the tin dining room, where luncheon was served.

  Aunt Em found, to her satisfaction, that Dorothy’s promise was more than fulfilled; for, although the Tin Woodman had no appetite of his own, he respected the appetites of his guests and saw that they were bountifully fed.

  They passed the afternoon in wandering through the beautiful gardens and grounds of the palace. The walks were all paved with sheets of tin, brightly polished, and there were tin fountains and tin statues here and there among the trees. The flowers were mostly natural flowers and grew in the regular way; but their host showed them one flower bed which was his especial pride.

  “You see, all common flowers fade and die in time,” he explained, “and so there are seasons when the pretty blooms are scarce. Therefore I decided to make one tin flower bed all of tin flowers, and my workmen have created them with rare skill. Here you see tin camelias, tin marigolds, tin carnations, tin poppies and tin hollyhocks growing as naturally as if they were real.”

  Indeed, they were a pretty sight, and glistened under the sunlight like spun silver. “Isn’t this tin hollyhock going to seed?” asked the Wizard, bending over the flowers.

  “Why, I believe it is!” exclaimed the Tin Woodman, as if surprised. “I hadn’t noticed that before. But I shall plant the tin seeds and raise another bed of tin hollyhocks.”

  In one corner of the gardens Nick Chopper had established a fish-pond in which they saw swimming and disporting themselves many pretty tin fishes.

  “Would they bite on hooks?” asked Aunt Em, curiously.

  The Tin Woodman seemed hurt at this question.

  “Madam,” said he, “do you suppose I would allow anyone to catch my beautiful fishes, even if they were foolish enough to bite on hooks? No, indeed! Every created thing is safe from harm in my domain, and I would as soon think of killing my little friend Dorothy as killing one of my tin fishes.”

  “The Emperor is very kind-hearted, ma’am,” explained the Wizard. “If a fly happens to light upon his tin body he doesn’t rudely brush it off, as some people might do; he asks it politely to find some other resting place.”

  “What does the fly do then?” enquired Aunt Em.

  “Usually it begs his pardon and goes away,” said the Wizard, gravely. “Flies like to be treated politely as well as other creatures, and here in Oz they understand what we say to them, and behave very nicely.”

  “Well,” said Aunt Em, “the flies in Kansas, where I came from, don’t understand anything but a swat. You have to smash ‘em to make ‘em behave; and it’s the same way with ‘skeeters. Do you have ‘skeeters in Oz?”

  “We have some very large mosquitoes here, which sing as beautifully as song birds,” replied the Tin Woodman. “But they never bite or annoy our people, because they are well fed and taken care of. The reason they bite people in your country is because they are hungry--poor things!”

  “Yes,” agreed Aunt Em; “they’re hungry, all right. An’ they ain’t very particular who they feed on. I’m glad you’ve got the ‘skeeters educated in Oz.”

  That evening after dinner they were entertained by the Emperor’s Tin Cornet Band, which played for them several sweet melodies. Also the Wizard did a few sleight-of-hand tricks to amuse the company; after which they all retired to their cozy tin bedrooms and slept soundly until morning.

  After breakfast Dorothy said to the Tin Woodman:

  “If you’ll tell us which way to go we’ll visit the Scarecrow on our way home.”

  “I will go with you, and show you the way,” replied the Emperor; “for I must journey to-day to the Emerald City.”

  He looked so anxious, as he said this, that the little girl asked:

  “There isn’t anything wrong with Ozma, is there?”

  “Not yet,” said he; “but I’m afraid the time has come when I must tell you some very bad news, little friend.”

  “Oh, what is it?” cried Dorothy.

  “Do you remember the Nome King?” asked the Tin Woodman.

  “I remember him very well,” she replied.

  “The Nome King has not a kind heart,” said the Emperor, sadly, “and he has been harboring wicked thoughts of revenge, because we once defeated him and liberated his slaves and you took away his Magic Belt. So he has ordered his Nomes to dig a long tunnel underneath the deadly desert, so that he may march his hosts right into the Emerald City. When he gets there he intends to destroy our beautiful country.”

  Dorothy was much surprised to hear this.

  “How did Ozma find out about the tunnel?” she asked.

  “She saw it in her Magic Picture.”

  “Of course,” said Dorothy; “I might have known that. And what is she going to do?”

  “I cannot tell,” was the reply.

  “Pooh!” cried the Yellow Hen. “We’re not afraid of the Nomes. If we roll a few of our eggs down the tunnel they’ll run away back home as fast as they can go.”

  “Why, that’s true enough!” exclaimed Dorothy. “The Scarecrow once conquered all the Nome King’s army with some of Billina’s eggs.”

  “But you do not understand all of the dreadful plot,” continued the Tin Woodman. “The Nome King is clever, and he knows his Nomes would run from eggs; so he has bargained with many terrible creatures to help him. These evil spirits are not afraid of eggs or anything else, and they are very powerful. So the Nome King will send them through the tunnel first, to conquer and destroy, and then the Nomes will follow after to get their share of the plunder and slaves.”

  They were all startled to hear this, and every face wore a troubled look.

  “Is the tunnel all ready?” asked Dorothy.

  “Ozma sent me word yesterday that the tunnel was all completed except for a thin crust of earth at the end. When our enemies break through this crust, they will be in the gardens of the royal palace, in the heart of the Emerald City. I offered to arm all my Winkies and march to Ozma’s assistance; but she said no.”

  “I wonder why?” asked Dorothy.

  “She answered that all the inhabitants of Oz, gathered together, were not powerful enough to fight and overcome the evil forces of the Nome King. Therefore she refuses to fight at all.”

  “But they will capture and enslave us, and plunder and ruin all our lovely land!” exclaimed the Wizard, greatly disturbed by this statement.

  “I fear they will,” said the Tin Woodman, sorrowfully. “And I also fear that those who are not fairies, such as the Wizard, and Dorothy, and her uncle and aunt, as well as Toto and Billina, will be speedily put to death by the conquerors.”

  “What can be done?” asked Dorothy, shuddering a little at the prospect of this awful fate.

  “Nothing can be done!” gloomily replied the Emperor of the Winkies. “But since Ozma refuses my army I will go myself to the Emerald City. The least I may do is to perish beside my beloved Ruler.”

  25. How the Scarecrow Displayed His Wisdom

  This amazing news had saddened every heart and all were now anxious to return to the Emerald City and share Ozma’s fate. So they started without loss of time, and as the road led past the Scarecrow’s new mansion they determined to make a brief halt there and confer with him.

  “The Scarecrow is probably the wisest man in all Oz,” remarked the Tin Woodman, when they had started upon their journey. “His brains are plentiful and of excellent quality, and often he has told me things I might never have thought of my
self. I must say I rely a great deal upon the Scarecrow’s brains in this emergency.”

  The Tin Woodman rode on the front seat of the wagon, where Dorothy sat between him and the Wizard.

  “Has the Scarecrow heard of Ozma’s trouble?” asked the Captain General.

  “I do not know, sir,” was the reply.

  “When I was a private,” said Omby Amby, “I was an excellent army, as I fully proved in our war against the Nomes. But now there is not a single private left in our army, since Ozma made me the Captain General, so there is no one to fight and defend our lovely Ruler.”

  “True,” said the Wizard. “The present army is composed only of officers, and the business of an officer is to order his men to fight. Since there are no men there can be no fighting.”

  “Poor Ozma!” whispered Dorothy, with tears in her sweet eyes. “It’s dreadful to think of all her lovely fairy country being destroyed. I wonder if we couldn’t manage to escape and get back to Kansas by means of the Magic Belt? And we might take Ozma with us and all work hard to get money for her, so she wouldn’t be so VERY lonely and unhappy about the loss of her fairyland.”

  “Do you think there would be any work for ME in Kansas?” asked the Tin Woodman.

  “If you are hollow, they might use you in a canning factory,” suggested Uncle Henry. “But I can’t see the use of your working for a living. You never eat or sleep or need a new suit of clothes.”

  “I was not thinking of myself,” replied the Emperor, with dignity. “I merely wondered if I could not help to support Dorothy and Ozma.”

  As they indulged in these sad plans for the future they journeyed in sight of the Scarecrow’s new mansion, and even though filled with care and worry over the impending fate of Oz, Dorothy couldn’t help a feeling of wonder at the sight she saw.

  The Scarecrow’s new house was shaped like an immense ear of corn. The rows of kernels were made of solid gold, and the green upon which the ear stood upright was a mass of sparkling emeralds. Upon the very top of the structure was perched a figure representing the Scarecrow himself, and upon his extended arms, as well as upon his head, were several crows carved out of ebony and having ruby eyes. You may imagine how big this ear of corn was when I tell you that a single gold kernel formed a window, swinging outward upon hinges, while a row of four kernels opened to make the front entrance. Inside there were five stories, each story being a single room.

  The gardens around the mansion consisted of cornfields, and Dorothy acknowledged that the place was in all respects a very appropriate home for her good friend the Scarecrow.

  “He would have been very happy here, I’m sure,” she said, “if only the Nome King had left us alone. But if Oz is destroyed of course this place will be destroyed too.”

  “Yes,” replied the Tin Woodman, “and also my beautiful tin castle, that has been my joy and pride.”

  “Jack Pumpkinhead’s house will go too,” remarked the Wizard, “as well as Professor Wogglebug’s Athletic College, and Ozma’s royal palace, and all our other handsome buildings.”

  “Yes, Oz will indeed become a desert when the Nome King gets through with it,” sighed Omby Amby.

  The Scarecrow came out to meet them and gave them all a hearty welcome.

  “I hear you have decided always to live in the Land of Oz, after this,” he said to Dorothy; “and that will delight my heart, for I have greatly disliked our frequent partings. But why are you all so downcast?”

  “Have you heard the news?” asked the Tin Woodman.

  “No news to make me sad,” replied the Scarecrow.

  Then Nick Chopper told his friend of the Nome King’s tunnel, and how the evil creatures of the North had allied themselves with the underground monarch for the purpose of conquering and destroying Oz. “Well,” said the Scarecrow, “it certainly looks bad for Ozma, and all of us. But I believe it is wrong to worry over anything before it happens. It is surely time enough to be sad when our country is despoiled and our people made slaves. So let us not deprive ourselves of the few happy hours remaining to us.”

  “Ah! that is real wisdom,” declared the Shaggy Man, approvingly. “After we become really unhappy we shall regret these few hours that are left to us, unless we enjoy them to the utmost.”

  “Nevertheless,” said the Scarecrow, “I shall go with you to the Emerald City and offer Ozma my services.”

  “She says we can do nothing to oppose our enemies,” announced the Tin Woodman.

  “And doubtless she is right, sir,” answered the Scarecrow. “Still, she will appreciate our sympathy, and it is the duty of Ozma’s friends to stand by her side when the final disaster occurs.”

  He then led them into his queer mansion and showed them the beautiful rooms in all the five stories. The lower room was a grand reception hall, with a hand-organ in one corner. This instrument the Scarecrow, when alone, could turn to amuse himself, as he was very fond of music. The walls were hung with white silk, upon which flocks of black crows were embroidered in black diamonds. Some of the chairs were made in the shape of big crows and upholstered with cushions of corn-colored silk.

  The second story contained a fine banquet room, where the Scarecrow might entertain his guests, and the three stories above that were bed-chambers exquisitely furnished and decorated.

  “From these rooms,” said the Scarecrow, proudly, “one may obtain fine views of the surrounding cornfields. The corn I grow is always husky, and I call the ears my regiments, because they have so many kernels. Of course I cannot ride my cobs, but I really don’t care shucks about that. Taken altogether, my farm will stack up with any in the neighborhood.”

  The visitors partook of some light refreshment and then hurried away to resume the road to the Emerald City. The Scarecrow found a seat in the wagon between Omby Amby and the Shaggy Man, and his weight did not add much to the load because he was stuffed with straw.

  “You will notice I have one oat-field on my property,” he remarked, as they drove away. “Oat-straw is, I have found, the best of all straws to re-stuff myself with when my interior gets musty or out of shape.”

  “Are you able to re-stuff yourself without help?” asked Aunt Em. “I should think that after the straw was taken out of you there wouldn’t be anything left but your clothes.”

  “You are almost correct, madam,” he answered. “My servants do the stuffing, under my direction. For my head, in which are my excellent brains, is a bag tied at the bottom. My face is neatly painted upon one side of the bag, as you may see. My head does not need re-stuffing, as my body does, for all that it requires is to have the face touched up with fresh paint occasionally.”

  It was not far from the Scarecrow’s mansion to the farm of Jack Pumpkinhead, and when they arrived there both Uncle Henry and Aunt Em were much impressed. The farm was one vast pumpkin field, and some of the pumpkins were of enormous size. In one of them, which had been neatly hollowed out, Jack himself lived, and he declared that it was a very comfortable residence. The reason he grew so many pumpkins was in order that he might change his head as often as it became wrinkled or threatened to spoil.

  The pumpkin-headed man welcomed his visitors joyfully and offered them several delicious pumpkin pies to eat.

  “I don’t indulge in pumpkin pies myself, for two reasons,” he said. “One reason is that were I to eat pumpkins I would become a cannibal, and the other reason is that I never eat, not being hollow inside.”

  “Very good reasons,” agreed the Scarecrow.

  They told Jack Pumpkinhead of the dreadful news about the Nome King, and he decided to go with them to the Emerald City and help comfort Ozma.

  “I had expected to live here in ease and comfort for many centuries,” said Jack, dolefully; “but of course if the Nome King destroys everything in Oz I shall be destroyed too. Really, it seems too bad, doesn’t it?”

  They were soon on their journey again, and so swiftly did the Sawhorse draw the wagon over the smooth roads that before twilight fell the
y had reached the royal palace in the Emerald City, and were at their journey’s end.

  26. How Ozma Refused to Fight for Her Kingdom

  Ozma was in her rose garden picking a bouquet when the party arrived, and she greeted all her old and new friends as smilingly and sweetly as ever.

  Dorothy’s eyes were full of tears as she kissed the lovely Ruler of Oz, and she whispered to her:

  “Oh, Ozma, Ozma! I’m SO sorry!”

  Ozma seemed surprised.

  “Sorry for what, Dorothy?” she asked.

  “For all your trouble about the Nome King,” was the reply.

  Ozma laughed with genuine amusement.

  “Why, that has not troubled me a bit, dear Princess,” she replied. Then, looking around at the sad faces of her friends, she added: “Have you all been worrying about this tunnel?”

  “We have!” they exclaimed in a chorus.

  “Well, perhaps it is more serious than I imagined,” admitted the fair Ruler; “but I haven’t given the matter much thought. After dinner we will all meet together and talk it over.”

  So they went to their rooms and prepared for dinner, and Dorothy dressed herself in her prettiest gown and put on her coronet, for she thought that this might be the last time she would ever appear as a Princess of Oz.

  The Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman and Jack Pumpkinhead all sat at the dinner table, although none of them was made so he could eat. Usually they served to enliven the meal with their merry talk, but to-night all seemed strangely silent and uneasy.

  As soon as the dinner was finished Ozma led the company to her own private room in which hung the Magic Picture. When they had seated themselves the Scarecrow was the first to speak.

  “Is the Nome King’s tunnel finished, Ozma?” he asked.

  “It was completed to-day,” she replied. “They have built it right under my palace grounds, and it ends in front of the Forbidden Fountain. Nothing but a crust of earth remains to separate our enemies from us, and when they march here, they will easily break through this crust and rush upon us.”