“But it is your head,” said the poor Queen.
“Probably it is,” replied the King; “but it is on another man. You must confine yourself to kissing my wooden head.”
“I’m sorry,” sighed the Queen, “for I like to kiss the real head best.”
“And so you shall,” said the King’s head; “I don’t approve your kissing that wooden head at all.”
The poor lady looked from one to the other in perplexity. Finally a happy thought occurred to her.
“Why don’t you trade heads?” she asked.
“Just the thing!” cried the King; and, the wood-chopper consenting, the exchange was made, and the Monarch of Mo found himself in possession of his own head again, whereat he was so greatly pleased that he laughed long and merrily.
The wood-chopper, however, did not even smile. He couldn’t because of the wooden face. The head he had made for the King he now was compelled to wear himself.
“Bring hither the princesses,” commanded the King. “This good man shall choose his bride at once, for he has restored to me my own head.”
But when the princesses arrived and saw that the wood-chopper had a wooden head, they each and all refused to marry him, and begged so hard to escape that the King was in a quandary.
“I promised him one of my daughters,” he argued, “and a King never breaks his word.”
“But he hadn’t a wooden head then,” explained one of the girls.
The King realized the truth of this. Indeed, when he came to look carefully at the wooden head, he did not blame his daughters for not wishing to marry it. Should he force one of them to consent, it was not unlikely she would call her husband a blockhead — a term almost certain to cause trouble in any family.
After giving the matter deep thought, the King resolved to go to the Purple Dragon and oblige it to give up the wood-chopper’s head.
So all the fighting men in the kingdom were got together, and, having picked ripe swords off the sword-trees, they marched in a great body to the Dragon’s castle.
Now the Purple Dragon realized that if it attempted to fight all this army, it would perhaps be cut to pieces; so it retired within its castle and refused to come out.
The wood-chopper was a brave man.
“I’ll go in and fight the Dragon alone,” he said; and in he went. By this time the Dragon was both frightened and angry, and the moment it saw the man it rushed forward and made a snap at his head.
The wooden head came off at once, and the Dragon’s long, sharp teeth got stuck in the wood and would not come out again; so the monster was unable to do anything but flop its tail and groan.
The wood-chopper now ran to the cupboard, took out his head and placed it upon his shoulders where it belonged. Then he proudly walked out of the castle and was greeted with loud shouts by the army, which carried him back in triumph to the King’s palace.
And, now that he wore his own head again, one of the prettiest of the young princesses willingly agreed to marry him; so the wedding ceremony was performed amidst great rejoicing.
THE THIRD SURPRISE: THE TRAMP DOG AND THE MONARCH’S LOST TEMPER
THE TRAMP DOG AND THE MONARCH’S LAST TEMPER
ONE day the Monarch of Mo, having nothing better to do, resolved to go hunting blackberries among the bushes that grew at the foot of the mountains.
So he put on an old crown that would not get tarnished if it rained, and, having found a tin pail in the pantry, started off without telling any one where he was going.
For some distance the path was a nice, smooth taffy, that was very agreeable to walk on; but as he got nearer the mountains the ground became gravelly, the stones being jackson-balls and gum-drops; so that his boots, which were a little green when he picked them, began to hurt his feet.
But the King was not easily discouraged, and kept on until he found the blackberry bushes, when he immediately began to fill his pail, the berries being remarkably big and sweet.
While thus occupied he heard a sound of footsteps coming down the mountain side, and presently a little dog ran out from the bushes and trotted up to him.
Now there were no dogs at all in Mo, and the King had never seen a creature like this before; therefore he was greatly surprised, and said:
“What are you, and where do you come from?”
The dog also was surprised at this question, and looked suspiciously at the King’s tin pail; for many times wicked boys had tied such a pail to the end of his tail. In fact, that was the reason he had run away from home and found his way, by accident, to the Valley of Mo.
“My name is Prince,” replied the gravely; “and I have come from a country beyond the mountains and the desert.”
“Indeed! are you in truth a prince?” exclaimed the monarch; “then you will be welcome in my kingdom, where we always treat nobility with proper respect. But why do you have four feet?”
“Because six would be too many,” replied the dog.
“But I have only two,” said the King.
“I am sorry,” said the dog, who was something of a wag, “because where I come from it is more fashionable to walk on four feet.”
“I like to be in the fashion,” remarked the King, thoughtfully; “but what am I to do, having only two legs?”
“Why, I suppose you could walk on your hands and feet,” returned the dog with a laugh.
“So I will,” said the King, being pleased with the idea; “and you shall come to the palace with me and teach me all the fashions of the country from whence you came.”
The King got down on his hands and knees, and was delighted to find he could get along in this way very nicely.
“How am I to carry my pail?” he asked.
“In your mouth, of course,” replied the dog. This suggestion seeming a happy one, the King took the pail in his mouth and they started back toward the palace. But when his Majesty came to the gum-drops and jackson-balls they hurt his hands and knees, so that he groaned aloud. But the dog only laughed. Finally they reached a place where it was quite muddy. Of course the mud was only jelly, but it hadn’t dried up since the last rain. The dog jumped over the place nimbly enough, but when the King tried to do likewise he failed, and came down into the jelly with both hands and knees, and stuck fast.
Now the monarch had a very good temper, which he carried in his vest pocket; but as he passed over the gum- drop pebbles on his hands and knees this temper dropped out of his pocket, and, having lost it, he became very angry at the dog for getting him into such a scrape.
So he began to scold, and when he opened his mouth the pail dropped out and the berries were all spilled. This made the dog laugh more than ever, at which the King pulled himself out of the jelly, jumped to his feet, and began to chase the dog as fast as he could. Finally the dog climbed a tall tree where the King could not reach him, and when safe among the branches he looked down and said: “See how foolish a man becomes who tries to be in fashion rather than live as nature intended he should! You can no more be a dog than I can be a king; so hereafter, if you are wise, you will be content to walk on two legs.”
“There is much truth in what you say,” replied the Monarch of Mo. “Come with me to the palace, and you shall be forgiven; indeed, we shall have a fine feast in honor of your arrival.”
So the dog climbed down from the tree and followed the King to the palace, where all the courtiers were astonished to see so queer an animal, and made a great favorite of him.
After dinner the King invited the dog to take a walk around the grounds of the royal mansion, and they started out merrily enough. But the King’s boots had begun to hurt him again; for, as they did not fit, being picked green, they had rubbed his toes until he had corns on them. So when they reached the porch in front of the palace the King asked:
“My friend, what is good for corns?”
“Tight boots,” replied the dog, laughing; “but they are not very good for your feet.”
Now the King, not yet having found his los
t temper, became exceedingly angry at this poor jest; so he rushed at the dog and gave it a tremendous kick.
Up into the air like a ball flew the dog, while the King, having hurt his toe by the kick, sat down on the door-step and nursed his foot while he watched the dog go farther and farther up, until it seemed like a tiny speck against the blue of the sky.
“I must have kicked harder than I thought,” said the King, ruefully; “there he goes, out of sight, and I shall never see him again!”
He now limped away into the back garden, where he picked a new pair of boots that would not hurt his feet; and while he was gone the dog began to fall down again. Of course he fell faster than he went up, and finally landed with a crash exactly on the King’s door-step. But so great was the force of the fall and so hard the door-step that the poor dog was flattened out like a pancake, and could not move a bit.
When the King came back he said:
“Hullo! some kind friend has brought me a new door-mat as a present,” and he leaned down and stroked the soft hair with much pleasure. Then he wiped his feet on the new mat and went into the palace to tell the Queen.
When her Majesty saw the nice, soft door-mat she declared it was too good to be left outside; so she brought it into the parlor and put it on the floor before the fire-place.
The good King was sorry he had treated the dog so harshly, and for fear he might do some other dreadful thing he went back to the place where he had lost his temper and searched until he found it again, when he put it carefully away in his pocket where it would stay.
Then he returned to the palace an entered the parlor; but as he passed the mat, his new boots were so clumsy, he stumbled against the edge and pushed the mat together into a roll.
Immediately the dog gave a bark, got upon its legs and said:
“Well, this is better! Now I can breathe again, but while I was so flat I could not draw a single breath.”
The monarch and his Queen were much surprised to find that what they had taken for a mat was only the dog, that had fallen so flat on their door-step; but they could not forbear laughing at his queer appearance. For, as the King had kicked the mat on the edge, the dog was more than six feet long, and no bigger around than a lead-pencil; which brought its font legs so far from its rear legs that it could scarcely turn around in the room without getting tangled up.
“But it is better than being a door-mat,” said the dog; and the King and Queen agreed with him in this.
Then the King went away to tell the people he had found the dog again, and when he left the palace he slammed the front door behind him. The dog had started to follow the King out, so when the front door slammed it hit the poor animal so sharp a blow on the nose that it pushed his body together again; and, lo and behold! there was the dog in his natural shape, just as he was before the King kicked him.
After this the dog and the King agreed very well; for the King was careful not to kick, since he had recovered his temper, and the dog took care not to say anything that would provoke the King to anger.
And one day the dog saved the Kingdom and all the Valley of Mo from destruction, as I shall tell you another time.
THE FOURTH SURPRISE: THE PECULIAR PAINS OF FRUITCAKE ISLAND
PRINCE ZINGLE, who was the eldest of all the princes of the Valley of Mo, at one time became much irritated because the King, his father, would not allow him to milk the cow with the golden horns. This cow was a great favorite with the King, because she gave as large a quantity of ice-cream at a milking as an ordinary cow does of milk, and in the warm days this was an agreeable luxury. The King liked to keep the cow with the golden horns for his own use and that of the Queen; so Prince Zingle thought he was being abused, having a great fondness for ice-cream himself.
To be sure, there was the great fountain of ice- cream soda-water playing constantly in the courtyard, which was free to every one; but the Prince longed for what he could not have.
Therefore, being filled with anger against his father, the King, he wandered away until he chanced to come near to the castle of the Purple Dragon.
When the wicked monster saw the Prince, it decided that here was a splendid opportunity to make mischief; so it said, politely:
“Good morning, King Zingle.”
“I am not a king — I am only a prince,” replied Zingle.
“What! not a king?” exclaimed the Dragon, as if surprised; “that is too bad.”
“I can never be a king while my father lives,” continued the Prince, “and it is impossible for him to die. So what can I do?”
“Since you ask my advice, I will tell you,” answered the naughty Dragon. “Down near Rootbeer River, where the peanut trees grow, is a very deep hole in the ground. You must get the King to go and look into this hole, and while he is leaning over the edge, push him in. Of course, he will not die, for that, as you say, is impossible; but no one will know where to find him. So, your father being out of the way, you will be king in his place.”
“That is surely good advice,” said the Prince, “and I will go and do it at once. Then the cow with the golden horns will be mine, and I shall become the Monarch of Mo.”
The Prince turned to go back to the palace, and as soon as he was out of sight, the horrid Dragon laughed to think what a fool it had made of the boy.
When Zingle saw his father he called him aside and said:
“Your Majesty, I have discovered something very funny at the bottom of the hole near the peanut trees. Come and see what it is.”
So the King went with the Prince, without suspecting his evil design, and while he leaned over the hole the Prince gave him a sudden push. The next moment down fell the Monarch of Mo — way to the bottom!
Then Prince Zingle went back to the palace and began to milk the cow with the golden horns.
Now when the King found himself at the bottom of the hole he at first did not know what to do; so he sat down and thought about it. Presently a happy idea came into his head. He knew if only he was at the other end of the hole, he would be at the top instead of the bottom, and could make his escape. So the King took hold of the hole, and exerting all his strength, turned the hole upside down. Being now at the top he stepped upon the ground and walked back to the palace, where he caught Prince Zingle milking the cow with the golden horns.
“Oh, ho!” he said, “you wish to be King, do you? Well, we’ll see about that!” Then he took the naughty Prince by the ear and led him into the palace, where he locked him up in a room from which he could not escape.
The King now sat himself down in an easy chair and began to think on how he could best punish the Prince, but after an hour of deep thought he was unable to decide on anything that seemed a sufficient chastisement for so great an offense.
At last he resolved to consult the Wise Donkey.
The Wise Donkey lived in a pretty little house away at the end of the Valley, for he didn’t like to mix with the gay life at the court. He had not always been wise, but at one time was a very stupid donkey indeed, and he acquired his wisdom in this way.
One Friday afternoon, just as school was letting out, the stupid donkey strayed into the school-house, and the teachers and scholars were all so anxious to get home that they never noticed the donkey, but locked him up in the school-house and went away without knowing he was there.
No one came into the building from Friday afternoon until Monday morning; so the donkey got very hungry, and certainly would have starved had he not chanced to taste of a geography that was sticking out from one of the desks. The hungry donkey decided it was not so very bad, so he ate it all up. Then he ate an arithmetic, an algebra, and two first readers. After that he lay down and went to sleep; but becoming hungry again he awoke and commenced on the school library, which he completely devoured. This library comprised all the solid and substantial wisdom in the Valley of Mo, and when the janitor opened the school-house door on Monday morning, all the books of learning in the whole land had been eaten up by the stupid donkey.
You can readily understand that after he had digested all this knowledge he became very wise, and thereafter the King and the people often consulted the Wise Donkey when their own intelligence was at fault.
So now the monarch went to the donkey’s house and told him of the Prince’s wickedness, asking how he could best punish him.
The Wise Donkey thought about the matter for a moment and then replied:
“I do not know a worse punishment than a pain in the stomach. Among the books I ate in the school-house was a trigonometry, and before I had digested it I suffered very severe pains indeed.”
“But I can not feed the Prince a trigonometry,” returned the King. “You ate the last one yourself.”
“True,” answered the donkey; “but there are other things that cause pain in the stomach. You know there is a certain island in Rootbeer River that is made of fruit cake of a very rich quality. I advise you to put the Prince on this island and allow him nothing to eat except the fruit cake. Presently he will have violent pains in his stomach and will be punished as greatly as you could desire.”
The King was well pleased with this plan, and having thanked the donkey for his wise advice hurried back to the palace.
Prince Zingle was now brought from his room and rowed in a boat to the Fruit Cake Island in Rootbeer River, where he was left without any way to escape. He knew how to swim, to be sure, but it was forbidden by law to swim in the Rootbeer, as many people came to this river to drink.
“You shall stay here,” said the King, sternly, “until you are sorry for your wickedness; and you shall have nothing to eat but fruit cake.”
The Prince laughed, because he thought the punishment was no punishment at all. When the King had rowed away in the boat and Zingle was left alone, he said to himself:
“Why, this is delightful! I shall have a jolly time here, and can eat all the cake I want, without any one scolding me for being greedy.”
He broke off a large piece of the island where the raisins and citron were thickest, and commenced to eat it. But after a time he became tired of eating nothing but fruit cake, and longed for something to go with it. But the island did not contain a single thing except the cake of which it was composed.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 214
