Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “I almost hope they will look in the Magic Picture and wish me back again,” he mused pensively. “But it is my duty to stay here. I have a family to support.” So he resolved to put the best face he could on the matter, and Happy Toko did his utmost to cheer up his royal master. The second morning after the great victory, he came running into the silver throne room in a great state of excitement.

  “The honorable Offspring have arriven!” announced Happy, turning a somersault. “Come, ancient and amiable Sir, and gaze upon your sons and grandsons!” The Scarecrow sprang joyously from his silver throne, upsetting a bowl of silver fish and three silver vases. At last a real family! Ever since his arrival, the three Princes and their fifteen little sons had been cruising on the royal pleasure barge, so that the Scarecrow had not caught a glimpse of them.

  “This is the happiest moment of my life!” he exclaimed, clasping his yellow gloves and watching the door intently. Happy looked a little uneasy, for he knew the three Princes to be exceedingly haughty and overbearing, but he said nothing, and next minute the Scarecrow’s family stepped solemnly into the royal presence.

  “Children!” cried the Scarecrow, and with his usual impetuousness rushed forward and flung his arms around the first richly clad Prince.

  “Take care! Take care, ancient and honorable papa!” cried the young Silverman, backing away. “Such excitement is not good for one of your advanced years.” He drew himself away firmly and, adjusting a huge pair of silver spectacles, regarded the Scarecrow attentively. “Ah, how you have changed!”

  “He looks very feeble, Too Fang, but may he live long to rule this flowery island and our humble selves!” said the second Prince, bowing stiffly.

  “Do you not find the affairs of state fatiguing, darling papa?” inquired the third Prince, fingering a jeweled chain that hung around his neck.

  “I, as your eldest son, shall be delighted to relieve you should you wish to retire. Get back ten paces, you!” he roared at Happy Toko.

  The poor Scarecrow had been so taken aback by this cool reception that he just stared in disbelief.

  “If the three honorable Princes will retire themselves, I will speak with my grandsons,” he said dryly, bowing in his most royal manner. The three Princes exchanged startled glances. Then, with three low salaams, they retired backward from the hall.

  “And now, my dears — !” The Scarecrow looked wistfully at his fifteen silken-clad little grandsons. Their silver hair, plaited tightly into little queues, stood out stiffly on each side of their heads and gave them a very curious appearance. At his first word, the fifteen fell dutifully on their noses. As soon as they were right side up, the Scarecrow, beginning at the end of the row, addressed a joking question to each in his most approved Oz style. But over they went again, and answered merely:

  “Yes, gracious Grand-papapapah!” or “No honorable Grandpapapapah!” And the constant bobbing up and down and papahing so confused the poor Scarecrow that he nearly gave up the conversation.

  “It’s no use trying to talk to these children,” he wailed in disgust, “they’re so solemn. Don’t you ever laugh?” he cried in exasperation, for he had told them stories that would have sent the Oz youngsters into hysterics.

  “It is not permissible for a Prince to laugh at the remarks of his honorable grandparent,” whispered Happy Toko, while the fifteen little Princes banged their heads solemnly on the floor.

  “Honorable fiddlesticks!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, slumping back on his throne. “Bring cushions.” Happy Toko ran off nimbly, and soon the fifteen little Princes were seated in a circle at the Scarecrow’s feet. “To prevent prostrations,” said the Scarecrow.

  “Yes, old Grandpapapapapah!” chorused the Princes, bending over as far as they could.

  “Wait!” said the Scarecrow hastily, “I’ll tell you a story. Once upon a time, to a beautiful country called Oz, which is surrounded on all sides by a deadly desert, there came a little girl named Dorothy. A terrible gale — Well, what’s the matter now?” The Scarecrow stopped short, for the oldest Prince had jerked a book out of his sleeve and was flipping over the pages industriously.

  “It is not on the map, great Grand papapapah,” he announced solemnly, and all of the other little Princes shook their heads and said dully, “Not on the map.”

  “Not on the map — Oz? Of course it’s not. Do you suppose we want all the humans in creation coming there?” Calming down, the Scarecrow tried to continue his story, but every time he mentioned Oz, the little Princes shook their heads stubbornly and whispered, “Not on the map,” till the usually good-tempered Scarecrow flew into perfect passion.

  “Not on the map, you little villains!” he screamed, forgetting they were his grandsons. “What difference does that make? Are your heads solid silver?”

  “We do not believe in Oz,” announced the oldest Prince serenely. “There is no such place.”

  “No such place as Oz — Happy, do you hear that?” The Scarecrow’s voice fairly crackled with indignation. “Why, I thought everybody believed in Oz!”

  “Perhaps your Highness can convince them later,” suggested the Imperial Punster. “This way, offspring.” His Master, he felt, had had enough family for one day. So the fifteen little Princes, with fifteen stiff little bows, took themselves back to the royal nursery. As for the Scarecrow, he paced disconsolately up and down his magnificent throne room, tripping over his kimona at every other step.

  “You’re a good boy, Tappy,” said the Scarecrow as Happy returned, “but I tell you being a grandparent is not what I thought it would be. Did you hear them tell me right to my face they did not believe in Oz? And my sons — ugh!”

  “Fault of their bringing up,” said Happy Toko comfortingly. “If your serene Highness would just tell me more of that illustrious country!” Happy knew that nothing cheered the Scarecrow like talking of Oz, and to tell the truth Happy himself never tired of the Scarecrow’s marvelous stories. So the two slipped quietly into the palace gardens, and the Scarecrow related for the fourteenth time the story of his discovery by Dorothy and the story of Ozma, and almost forgot that he was an Emperor.

  “Your Highness knows the history of Oz by heart,” said Happy admiringly as the Scarecrow paused.

  “I couldn’t do that,” said the Scarecrow gently, “for you see, Happy, I have no heart.”

  “Then I wish we all had none!” exclaimed Happy Toko, rolling up his eyes. The Scarecrow looked embarrassed, so the little Punster threw back his head and sang a song he had been making up while the Scarecrow had been telling his stories:

  The Scarecrow was standing alone in a field,

  Inviting the crows to keep off,

  When the straw in his chest began tickling his vest

  And he couldn’t resist a loud cough.

  The noise that was heard so surprised ev’ry bird,

  that the flock flew away in a fright,

  But the Scarecrow looked pleased, and he said “If I’d sneezed

  It wouldn’t have been so polite.”

  “Ho!” roared the Scarecrow, “You’re almost as good at making verses as Scraps, Write that down for me, Tappy. I’d like to show it to her.”

  “Hush!” whispered Happy, holding up his finger warningly. The Scarecrow turned so suddenly that the silver pigtail pinned to the back of his hat wound itself tightly around his neck. No wonder! On the other side of the hedge the three Princes were walking up and down, conversing in indignant whispers.

  “What a horrible shape our honorable Papa has reappeared in. I hear that it never wears out,” muttered one. “He may continue just as he is for years and years. How am I ever to succeed him, I’d like to know. Why, he may outlive us all!”

  “We might throw him into the silver river,” said the second hopefully.

  “No use,” choked the third. “I was just talking to the Imperial Soothsayer, and he tells me that no one from this miserable Kingdom of Oz can be destroyed. But I have a plan. Incline your Royal ears �
� listen.” The voices dropped to such a low whisper that neither Happy nor the Scarecrow could hear one word.

  “Treason!” spluttered Happy, making ready to spring through the hedge, but the Scarecrow seized him by the arm and drew him away.

  “I don’t believe they like their poor papa,” exclaimed the Scarecrow when they were safely back in the throne room. “I’m feeling older than a Kinkajou. Ah, Happy Oko, why did I ever slide down my family tree? It has brought me nothing but unhappiness.”

  CHAPTER 15

  THE THREE PRINCES PLOT TO UNDO THE EMPEROR

  “Let me help your Imperial Serenity!”

  “Bring a cane!”

  “Carefully, now!”

  The three royal Princes, with every show of affection, were supporting the Scarecrow to the silver bench in the garden where he usually sat during luncheon.

  “Are you quite comfortable?” asked the elder. “Here, Happy, you rogue, fetch a scarf for his Imperial Highness. You must be careful, dear Papa Scarecrow. At your age, drafts are dangerous.” The rascally Prince wound the scarf about the Scarecrow’s neck.

  “What do you suppose they are up to?” asked the Scarecrow, staring after the three suspiciously. “Why this sudden devotion? It upsets my Imperial Serenity a lot.”

  “Trying to make you feel old,” grumbled Happy. Several hours had passed since they had overheard the conversation in the garden. The Scarecrow had decided to watch his sons closely and fall in with any plan they suggested so they would suspect nothing. Then, when the time came, he would act. Just what he would do he did not know, but his excellent brains would not, he felt sure, desert him. Happy Toko sat as close to the Scarecrow as he could and scowled terribly whenever the Princes approached, which was every minute or so during the afternoon.

  “How is the Scarecrow’s celestial old head?”

  “Does he suffer from honorable gout?”

  “Should they fetch the Imperial Doctor?”

  The Scarecrow, who had never thought of age in his whole straw life, became extremely nervous.

  Was he really old? Did his head ache? When no one was looking, he felt himself carefully all over. Then something of his old time Oz spirit returned. Seizing the cushion that his eldest son was placing at his back, he hurled it over his head. Leaping from his throne, he began turning handsprings in a careless and sprightly manner.

  “Don’t you worry about your honorable old papa,” chuckled the Scarecrow, winking at Happy Toko. “He’s good for a couple of centuries!”

  The three Princes stared sourly at this exhibition of youth.

  “But your heart,” objected the eldest Prince.

  “Have none,” laughed the Scarecrow. Snatching off the silver cord from around his waist, he began skipping rope up and down the hall. The Princes, tapping their foreheads significantly, retired, and the Scarecrow, throwing his arm around Happy Toko, began whispering in his ear. He had a plan himself. They would see!

  * * * * *

  Meanwhile, off in his dark cave in one of the silver mountains, the Grand Gheewizard of the Silver Island was stirring a huge kettle of magic. Every few moments he paused to read out of a great yellow book that he had propped up on the mantle. The fire in the huge grate leaped fiercely under the big, black pot, and the sputtering candles on each side of the book sent creepy shadows into the dark cave. Dark chests, books, bundles of herbs, and heaps of gold and silver were everywhere. Whenever the Gheewizard turned his back, a rheumatic silver-scaled old dragon would crawl toward the fire and swallow a mouthful of coals, until the old Gheewizard caught him in the act and chained him to a ring in the corner of the cave.

  “Be patient, little joy of my heart! Our fortune is about to be made,” hissed the wizened little man, waving a long iron spoon at the dragon. “You shall have a bucket of red-hot coals every hour and I a silver cap with a tassel. Have not the Royal Princes promised it?” The dragon shuffled about and finally went to sleep, smoking sulkily.

  “Is it finished, son of a yellow dog?” Through the narrow opening of the cave, the youngest Prince stuck his head.

  “I am working as fast as I can, Honorable Prince, but the elixir must boil yet one more night. Tomorrow, when the sun shines on the first bar of your celestial window, come, and all will be ready.”

  “Are you sure you have found it?” asked the Prince, withdrawing his head, for the smoking dragon and steam from the kettle made him cough.

  “Quite sure,” wheezed the Grand Gheewizard, and fell to stirring the kettle with all his might.

  * * * * *

  The Scarecrow, although busy with trials in the great courtroom of the palace, felt that something unusual was in the air. The Princes kept nodding to one another, and the Grand Chew Chew and General Mugwump had their heads together at every opportunity.

  “Something’s going to happen, Tappy. I feel it in my straw,” whispered the Scarecrow as he finished trying the last case. At that very minute, the Grand Chew Chew arose and held up his hand for silence. Everybody paused in their way to the exits and looked with surprise at the old Silverman.

  “I have to announce,” said the Grand Chew Chew in a solemn voice, “that the Great and Imperial Chang Wang Woe will tomorrow be restored to his own rightful shape. The Grand Gheewizard of the realm has discovered a magic formula to break the enchantment and free him from this distressing Scarecrow body. Behold for the last the Scarecrow of Oz. Tomorrow he will be our old and glorious Emperor!”

  “Old and glorious?” gasped the Scarecrow, nearly falling from his throne.

  “Tappy! I forgot to lock up the wizards. Great Cornstarch! Tomorrow I will be eighty-five years old.”

  Such cheers greeted the Grand Chew Chew’s announcement that no one even noticed the Scarecrow’s distress.

  “I, also, have an announcement!” cried the eldest Prince, standing up proudly. “To make the celebration of my royal Papa’s restoration complete, we have chosen the lovely and charming Orange Blossom for his bride.”

  “Bride!” gulped the Scarecrow. “But I do not approve of second marriages. I refuse to — ”

  No one paid the slightest attention to the Scarecrow’s remarks.

  “Hold my hand, Tappy,” sighed the Scarecrow weakly. “It may be your last chance.” Then he sat up and stared in good earnest, for the Prince was leading forward a tall, richly clad lady.

  “Orange Blossom!” muttered the Scarecrow under his breath. “He means Lemon Peel! Silver grandmother, Tappy!” Orange Blossom was a cross-looking Princess of seventy-five, at least.

  “She is a sister of the King of the Golden Islands,” whispered General Mugwump. “Of a richness surpassing your own. Let me felicitate your Highness.”

  “Fan me, Tappy! Fan me!” gasped the Scarecrow. Then he straightened himself suddenly. The time had come for action. He would say nothing to anyone, but that night he would escape and try to find his way back to Oz, family or no family! He bowed graciously to Princess Orange Blossom, to the Grand Chew Chew, and to his sons.

  “Let everything be made ready for the ceremony, and may tomorrow indeed bring me to myself,” he repeated solemnly. Nothing was talked of that evening but the Emperor’s impending marriage and the Grand Gheewizard’s discovery. The Scarecrow seemed the least excited person in the palace. Sitting on his throne, he pretended to read the Royal Silver Journal, but he was really waiting impatiently for the courtiers to retire. Finally, when the last one had bowed himself out and only Happy Toko remained in the throne room, the Scarecrow began making his plans.

  “It’s no use, Tappy,” said he, tying up a few little trinkets for Dorothy in a silk handkerchief, “I’d rather be straw than meat. I’d rather be a plain Scarecrow in Oz than Emperor of the Earth! They may be my sons, but all they want is my death. I’m going back to my old friends. I’d rather — ”. He got no farther. A huge slave seized him suddenly from behind, while another caught Happy Toko around his fat little waist.

  “Tie them fast,” said the eldest Pr
ince, smiling wickedly at the Scarecrow. “Here, tie him to the beanstalk. Merely a part of the Grand Gheewizard’s formula,” he exclaimed maliciously as the struggling Scarecrow was bound securely to his family tree. “Good night, dear papa Scarecrow. Tomorrow you will be your old self again, and in a few short years I will be Emperor of the Silver Islands!”

  “This rather upsets our plans, eh Tappy?” wheezed the Scarecrow after a struggle with his bonds.

  “Pigs! Weasels!” choked Tappy. “What are we to do?”

  “Alas!” groaned the Scarecrow. “Tomorrow there will be no Scarecrow in Oz. What will Dorothy and Ozma think? And once I am changed into my old Imperial self, I can never make the journey to the Emerald City. Eighty-six is too old for traveling.”

  “Has your Majesty forgotten the wonderful brains given to you by the Wizard of Oz?”

  “I had — for a moment,” confessed the Scarecrow. “Be quiet, Tappy, while I think.” Pressing his head against the magic beanpole, the Scarecrow thought and thought, harder than he had ever done in the course of his adventurous life, and in the great, silent hall Happy Toko struggled to set himself free.

  CHAPTER 16

  DOROTHY AND HER GUARDIANS MEET NEW FRIENDS

  While all these exciting things were happening to the poor Scarecrow, Dorothy, Sir Hokus and the Cowardly Lion had been having adventures of their own. For three days, they had wandered through a deserted part of the Winkie Country, subsisting largely on berries, sleeping under trees, and looking in vain for a road to lead them back to the Emerald City. On the second day, they had encountered an ancient woodsman, too old and deaf to give them any information. He did, however, invite them into his hut and give them a good dinner and a dozen sandwiches to carry away with them.