“You’ve got ‘em, all right,” said Woot the Monkey, who had already counted them.
“After I had delivered the magic medicine to the old woman, I returned and tried to find the witch, or fairy, or whatever she was, who had given me the unlucky wish, so she could take it away again. I’ve been searching for her ever since, but never can I find her,” continued poor Tommy Kwikstep, sadly.
“I suppose,” said the Tin Owl, blinking at him, “you can travel very fast, with those twenty legs.”
“At first I was able to,” was the reply; “but I traveled so much, searching for the fairy, or witch, or whatever she was, that I soon got corns on my toes. Now, a corn on one toe is not so bad, but when you have a hundred toes — as I have — and get corns on most of them, it is far from pleasant. Instead of running, I now painfully crawl, and although I try not to be discouraged I do hope I shall find that witch or fairy, or whatever she was, before long.”
“I hope so, too,” said the Scarecrow. “But, after all, you have the pleasure of knowing you are unusual, and therefore remarkable among the people of Oz. To be just like other persons is small credit to one, while to be unlike others is a mark of distinction.”
“That sounds very pretty,” returned Tommy Kwikstep, “but if you had to put on ten pair of trousers every morning, and tie up twenty shoes, you would prefer not to be so distinguished.”
“Was the witch, or fairy, or whatever she was, an old person, with wrinkled skin, and half her teeth gone?” inquired the Tin Owl.
“No,” said Tommy Kwikstep.
“Then she wasn’t Old Mombi,” remarked the transformed Emperor.
“I’m not interested in who it wasn’t, so much as I am in who it was,” said the twenty-legged young man. “And, whatever or whomsoever she was, she has managed to keep out of my way.”
“If you found her, do you suppose she’d change you back into a two-legged boy?” asked Woot.
“Perhaps so, if I could run another errand for her and so earn another wish.”
“Would you really like to be as you were before?” asked Polychrome the Canary, perching upon the Green Monkey’s shoulder to observe Tommy Kwikstep more attentively.
“I would, indeed,” was the earnest reply.
“Then I will see what I can do for you,” promised the Rainbow’s Daughter, and flying to the ground she took a small twig in her bill and with it made several mystic figures on each side of Tommy Kwikstep.
“Are you a witch, or fairy, or something of the sort?” he asked as he watched her wonderingly.
The Canary made no answer, for she was busy, but the Scarecrow Bear replied: “Yes; she’s something of the sort, and a bird of a magician.”141
The twenty-legged boy’s transformation happened so queerly that they were all surprised at its method. First, Tommy Kwikstep’s last two legs disappeared; then the next two, and the next, and as each pair of legs vanished his body shortened. All this while Polychrome was running around him and chirping mystical words, and when all the young man’s legs had disappeared but two he noticed that the Canary was still busy and cried out in alarm:
“Stop — stop! Leave me two of my legs, or I shall be worse off than before.”
“I know,” said the Canary. “I’m only removing with my magic the corns from your last ten toes.”
“Thank you for being so thoughtful,” he said gratefully, and now they noticed that Tommy Kwikstep was quite a nice looking young fellow.
“What will you do now?” asked Woot the Monkey.
“First,” he answered, “I must deliver a note which I’ve carried in my pocket ever since the witch, or fairy, or whatever she was, granted my foolish wish. And I am resolved never to speak again without taking time to think carefully on what I am going to say, for I realize that speech without thought is dangerous. And after I’ve delivered the note, I shall run errands again for anyone who needs my services.”
So he thanked Polychrome again and started away in a different direction from their own, and that was the last they saw of Tommy Kwikstep.
Jinjur’s Ranch
CHAPTER 11
As they followed a path down the blue-grass hillside, the first house that met the view of the travelers was joyously recognized by the Scarecrow Bear as the one inhabited by his friend Jinjur, so they increased their speed and hurried toward it.
On reaching the place, however, they found the house deserted. The front door stood open, but no one was inside. In the garden surrounding the house were neat rows of bushes bearing cream-puffs and macaroons, some of which were still green, but others ripe and ready to eat. Farther back were fields of caramels, and all the land seemed well cultivated and carefully tended. They looked through the fields for the girl farmer, but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Well,” finally remarked the little Brown Bear, “let us go into the house and make ourselves at home. That will be sure to please my friend Jinjur, who happens to be away from home just now. When she returns, she will be greatly surprised.”
“Would she care if I ate some of those ripe cream-puffs?” asked the Green Monkey.
“No, indeed; Jinjur is very generous. Help yourself to all you want,” said the Scarecrow Bear.
So Woot gathered a lot of the cream-puffs that were golden yellow and filled with a sweet, creamy substance, and ate until his hunger was satisfied. Then he entered the house with his friends and sat in a rocking-chair — just as he was accustomed to do when a boy. The Canary perched herself upon the mantel and daintily plumed her feathers; the Tin Owl sat on the back of another chair; the Scarecrow squatted on his hairy haunches in the middle of the room.
“I believe I remember the girl Jinjur,” remarked the Canary, in her sweet voice. “She cannot help us very much, except to direct us on our way to Glinda’s castle, for she does not understand magic. But she’s a good girl, honest and sensible, and I’ll be glad to see her.”
“All our troubles,” said the Owl with a deep sigh, “arose from my foolish resolve to seek Nimmie Amee and make her Empress of the Winkies, and while I146 wish to reproach no one, I must say that it was Woot the Wanderer who put the notion into my head.”
“Well, for my part, I am glad he did,” responded the Canary. “Your journey resulted in saving me from the Giantess, and had you not traveled to the Yoop Valley, I would still be Mrs. Yoop’s prisoner. It is much nicer to be free, even though I still bear the enchanted form of a Canary-Bird.”
“Do you think we shall ever be able to get our proper forms back again?” asked the Green Monkey earnestly.
Polychrome did not make reply at once to this important question, but after a period of thoughtfulness she said:
“I have been taught to believe that there is an antidote for every magic charm, yet Mrs. Yoop insists that no power can alter her transformations. I realize that my own fairy magic cannot do it, although I have thought that we Sky Fairies have more power than is accorded to Earth Fairies. The yookoohoo magic is admitted to be very strange in its workings and different from the magic usually practiced, but perhaps Glinda or Ozma may understand it better than I. In them lies our only hope. Unless they can help us, we must remain forever as we are.”147
“A Canary-Bird on a Rainbow wouldn’t be so bad,” asserted the Tin Owl, winking and blinking with his round tin eyes, “so if you can manage to find your Rainbow again you need have little to worry about.”
“That’s nonsense, Friend Chopper,” exclaimed Woot. “I know just how Polychrome feels. A beautiful girl is much superior to a little yellow bird, and a boy — such as I was — far better than a Green Monkey. Neither of us can be happy again unless we recover our rightful forms.”
“I feel the same way,” announced the stuffed Bear. “What do you suppose my friend the Patchwork Girl would think of me, if she saw me wearing this beastly shape?”
“She’d laugh till she cried,” admitted the Tin Owl. “For my part, I’ll have to give up the notion of marrying Nimmie Amee, but I’ll
try not to let that make me unhappy. If it’s my duty, I’d like to do my duty, but if magic prevents my getting married I’ll flutter along all by myself and be just as contented.”
Their serious misfortunes made them all silent for a time, and as their thoughts were busy in dwelling upon the evils with which fate had burdened them, none noticed that Jinjur had suddenly appeared in the doorway and was looking at them in astonishment. The next moment her astonishment changed to anger, for there, in her best rocking-chair, sat a Green Monkey. A great shiny Owl perched upon another chair and a Brown Bear squatted upon her parlor rug. Jinjur did not notice the Canary, but she caught up a broomstick and dashed into the room, shouting as she came:
“Get out of here, you wild creatures! How dare you enter my house?”
With a blow of her broom she knocked the Brown Bear over, and the Tin Owl tried to fly out of her reach and made a great clatter with his tin wings. The Green Monkey was so startled by the sudden attack that he sprang into the fireplace — where there was fortunately no fire — and tried to escape by climbing up the chimney. But he found the opening too small, and so was forced to drop down again. Then he crouched trembling in the fireplace, his pretty green hair all blackened with soot and covered with ashes. From this position Woot watched to see what would happen next.
“Stop, Jinjur — stop!” cried the Brown Bear, when the broom again threatened him. “Don’t you know me? I’m your old friend the Scarecrow?”149
“You’re trying to deceive me, you naughty beast! I can see plainly that you are a bear, and a mighty poor specimen of a bear, too,” retorted the girl.
“That’s because I’m not properly stuffed,” he assured her. “When Mrs. Yoop transformed me, she didn’t realize I should have more stuffing.”
“Who is Mrs. Yoop?” inquired Jinjur, pausing with the broom still upraised.
“A Giantess in the Gillikin Country.”
“Oh; I begin to understand. And Mrs. Yoop transformed you? You are really the famous Scarecrow of Oz?”
“I was, Jinjur. Just now I’m as you see me — a miserable little Brown Bear with a poor quality of stuffing. That Tin Owl is none other than our dear Tin Woodman — Nick Chopper, the Emperor of the Winkies — while this Green Monkey is a nice little boy we recently became acquainted with, Woot the Wanderer.”
“And I,” said the Canary, flying close to Jinjur, “am Polychrome, the Daughter of the Rainbow, in the form of a bird.”
“Goodness me!” cried Jinjur, amazed; “that Giantess must be a powerful Sorceress, and as wicked as she is powerful.”150
“She’s a yookoohoo,” said Polychrome. “Fortunately, we managed to escape from her castle, and we are now on our way to Glinda the Good to see if she possesses the power to restore us to our former shapes.”
“Then I must beg your pardons; all of you must forgive me,” said Jinjur, putting away the broom. “I took you to be a lot of wild, unmannerly animals, as was quite natural. You are very welcome to my home and I’m sorry I haven’t the power to help you out of your troubles. Please use my house and all that I have, as if it were your own.”
At this declaration of peace, the Bear got upon his feet and the Owl resumed his perch upon the chair and the Monkey crept out of the fireplace. Jinjur looked at Woot critically, and scowled.
“For a Green Monkey,” said she, “you’re the blackest creature I ever saw. And you’ll get my nice clean room all dirty with soot and ashes. Whatever possessed you to jump up the chimney?”
“I — I was scared,” explained Woot, somewhat ashamed.
“Well, you need renovating, and that’s what will happen to you, right away. Come with me!” she commanded.
“What are you going to do?” asked Woot.
“Give you a good scrubbing,” said Jinjur.
Now, neither boys nor monkeys relish being scrubbed, so Woot shrank away from the energetic girl, trembling fearfully. But Jinjur grabbed him by his paw and dragged him out to the back yard, where, in spite of his whines and struggles, she plunged him into a tub of cold water and began to scrub him with a stiff brush and a cake of yellow soap.
This was the hardest trial that Woot had endured since he became a monkey, but no protest had any influence with Jinjur, who lathered and scrubbed him in a business-like manner and afterward dried him with a coarse towel.
The Bear and the Owl gravely watched this operation and nodded approval when Woot’s silky green fur shone clear and bright in the afternoon sun. The Canary seemed much amused and laughed a silvery ripple of laughter as she said:
“Very well done, my good Jinjur; I admire your energy and judgment. But I had no idea a monkey could look so comical as this monkey did while he was being bathed.”
“I’m not a monkey!” declared Woot, resentfully;154 “I’m just a boy in a monkey’s shape, that’s all.”
“If you can explain to me the difference,” said Jinjur, “I’ll agree not to wash you again — that is, unless you foolishly get into the fireplace. All persons are usually judged by the shapes in which they appear to the eyes of others. Look at me, Woot; what am I?”
Woot looked at her.
“You’re as pretty a girl as I’ve ever seen,” he replied.
Jinjur frowned. That is, she tried hard to frown.
“Come out into the garden with me,” she said, “and I’ll give you some of the most delicious caramels you ever ate. They’re a new variety, that no one can grow but me, and they have a heliotrope flavor.”
Ozma and Dorothy
CHAPTER 12
In her magnificent palace in the Emerald City, the beautiful girl Ruler of all the wonderful Land of Oz sat in her dainty boudoir with her friend Princess Dorothy beside her. Ozma was studying a roll of manuscript which she had taken from the Royal Library, while Dorothy worked at her embroidery and at times stooped to pat a shaggy little black dog that lay at her feet. The little dog’s name was Toto, and he was Dorothy’s faithful companion.
To judge Ozma of Oz by the standards of our world, you would think her very young — perhaps fourteen or fifteen years of age — yet for years she had ruled the Land of Oz and had never seemed a bit older. Dorothy appeared much younger than Ozma. She had been a little girl when first she came to the Land of Oz, and she was a little girl still, and would never seem to be a day older while she lived in this wonderful fairyland.
Oz was not always a fairyland, I am told. Once it was much like other lands, except it was shut in by a dreadful desert of sandy wastes that lay all around it, thus preventing its people from all contact with the rest of the world. Seeing this isolation, the fairy band of Queen Lurline, passing over Oz while on a journey, enchanted the country and so made it a Fairyland. And Queen Lurline left one of her fairies to rule this enchanted Land of Oz, and then passed on and forgot all about it.
From that moment no one in Oz ever died. Those who were old remained old; those who were young and strong did not change as years passed them by;157 the children remained children always, and played and romped to their hearts’ content, while all the babies lived in their cradles and were tenderly cared for and never grew up. So people in Oz stopped counting how old they were in years, for years made no difference in their appearance and could not alter their station. They did not get sick, so there were no doctors among them. Accidents might happen to some, on rare occasions, it is true, and while no one could die naturally, as other people do, it was possible that one might be totally destroyed. Such incidents, however, were very unusual, and so seldom was there anything to worry over that the Oz people were as happy and contented as can be.
Another strange thing about this fairy Land of Oz was that whoever managed to enter it from the outside world came under the magic spell of the place and did not change in appearance as long as they lived there. So Dorothy, who now lived with Ozma, seemed just the same sweet little girl she had been when first she came to this delightful fairyland.
Perhaps all parts of Oz might not be called truly deligh
tful, but it was surely delightful in the neighborhood of the Emerald City, where Ozma reigned. Her loving influence was felt for many miles around, but there were places in the mountains of the Gillikin Country, and the forests of the Quadling Country, and perhaps in far-away parts of the Munchkin and Winkie Countries, where the inhabitants were somewhat rude and uncivilized and had not yet come under the spell of Ozma’s wise and kindly rule. Also, when Oz first became a fairyland, it harbored several witches and magicians and sorcerers and necromancers, who were scattered in various parts, but most of these had been deprived of their magic powers, and Ozma had issued a royal edict forbidding anyone in her dominions to work magic except Glinda the Good and the Wizard of Oz. Ozma herself, being a real fairy, knew a lot of magic, but she only used it to benefit her subjects.
This little explanation will help you to understand better the story you are reading, but most of it is already known to those who are familiar with the Oz people whose adventures they have followed in other Oz books.
Ozma and Dorothy were fast friends and were much together. Everyone in Oz loved Dorothy almost as well as they did their lovely Ruler, for the little Kansas girl’s good fortune had not spoiled her or rendered her at all vain. She was just the same brave and true and adventurous child as before she lived in a royal palace and became the chum of the fairy Ozma.
In the room in which the two sat — which was one of Ozma’s private suite of apartments — hung the famous Magic Picture. This was the source of constant interest to little Dorothy. One had but to stand before it and wish to see what any person was doing, and at once a scene would flash upon the magic canvas which showed exactly where that person was, and like our own moving pictures would reproduce the actions of that person as long as you cared to watch them. So today, when Dorothy tired of her embroidery, she drew the curtains from before the Magic Picture and wished to see what her friend Button Bright was doing. Button Bright, she saw, was playing ball with Ojo, the Munchkin boy, so Dorothy next wished to see what her Aunt Em was doing. The picture showed Aunt Em quietly engaged in darning socks for Uncle Henry, so Dorothy wished to see what her old friend the Tin Woodman was doing.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 168
