Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  “No, I suppose not,” replied the girl; “but I always thought pussys liked mice.”

  “I have never seen the horrid animals,” returned the white cat; “but there is a tradition in the Valley that some of our forefathers found mice here at one time and quickly destroyed them. They may have eaten them, for all I know; no one can be certain what his forefathers did. But none of us now living here has ever eaten anything but bread and milk, of that I am positive.”

  “It’s such nice bread and milk,” said Dot, “that I should think you would prefer it to anything else.”

  “We do, for there’s nothing else to prefer,” was the answer.

  After dinner the kittens washed their faces carefully and then all of them, accompanied by Dot, left the room and walked to King Felis’ house where they found Tot and the Queen surrounded by a crowd of pussys.

  “Oh, Dot!” cried Tot, when he saw the girl. “I held the gray kittens after dinner, an’ never dropped ‘em once!”

  “Was he good?” Dot asked Cousin Tabby. “Yes, he behaved very nicely,” answered Cousin Tabby. “We must now bid our friends farewell,” said the Queen, “for it is time to proceed upon our journey.”

  So they returned to the boat, and all the pussys, headed by King Felis and Uncle Palladius, went with them and politely bade them good-bye.

  When they were floating in the river again the Queen asked Dot, “How did you like the pussycats?”

  “They’re lovely!” exclaimed the girl. “I should have liked to stay all night with them.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t,” rejoined the Queen. “The last time I passed the night in this Valley the pussys screamed so loudly at their midnight concert that the noise cracked my wax. They are much nicer to visit in the daytime.”

  “Why is the King named Felis?” enquired Dot, after a moment’s thought.

  “Because that is the name of his race. All our names have some meaning in Merryland,” answered the Queen.

  “I suppose your own name has a meaning, if only we knew what it was,” said Dot, slyly.

  “Good gracious!” cried the Queen; “haven’t I told you my name yet?”

  “No,” said Dot.

  “Then I must have forgotten that you asked it. It was very stupid of me, and I assure you I didn’t mean to be rude.” Then her Majesty turned to Tot and asked:

  “How did you like the Valley of Pussys?”

  “Fine!” said the boy. “The kitties were soft an’ fuzzy, an’ the bread and milk was good. But the doors,” he added, solemnly, “are built too high up to be ‘zactly comf’table.”

  XVI. — The Busy Mr. Split

  When the boat entered the Sixth Valley of Merryland our voyagers saw before them a forest of green trees growing close down to the river bank. These were so thick that they formed almost a solid wall, and they had passed halfway through the Valley before they came to a small opening, or path, running from the water’s edge through the forest. To this spot the Queen directed the boat, and soon it grounded gently against a pebbly beach, and they all stepped out and stood upon the narrow path.

  “Isn’t there anything but trees here?” asked Tot.

  “Yes, indeed, there is a very pleasant country behind the trees,” answered the Wax Doll. “Follow me and I will guide your steps.”

  So they followed the Queen slowly along the shady path, while over their heads the branches met and sheltered them from the rays of the afternoon sun. This was gratefully appreciated by Dot and Tot, for they had left their hats in the boat and wore only their golden crowns.

  After walking a short distance the Queen stopped suddenly — so suddenly that Dot nearly ran against her and Tot bumped his nose upon Dot’s shoulder. Looking ahead to see what was the matter, the children found lying across the path a bright green Alligator nearly three feet long. Its back was scaly and made in short lengths, which were jointed together in a peculiar way.

  While Dot and Tot were trying to make up their minds whether to be afraid or not, the Alligator turned his head toward the Queen and said, gently:

  “Step on my middle, please!”

  “With pleasure,” returned the Queen; and she placed one of her kid slippers upon the middle of the Alligator’s back and stepped to the other side of him. As she did so the pressure of her foot made a faint squeak, and the Alligator sighed with delight. Then he turned his head to Dot and repeated

  “Step on my middle, please!”

  “Why?” asked the girl, hesitating.

  “So I can hear my squeak, of course,” answered the Alligator. “If no one steps on me I might as well have no squeak at all. It is now some years since I have listened to the music of my squeak, but each day I have crawled into this path as soon as I was wound up, for I knew that sooner or later someone was sure to walk down the path and tread on me. You look heavier than the Queen, so perhaps I’ll squeak louder.”

  “Let Tot try it first,” said Dot; “I’m afraid I’ll break you.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been used so little that I ought to be in good condition,” said the Alligator. But Tot went first, and gave his foot a great push as he stepped on the creature’s body.

  The squeak was so loud and shrill that the Alligator laughed from pure joy, and cried, “Wasn’t that splendid? I believe I have the finest squeak in the world! The person who made me knew his business all right.”

  “Who made you?” asked Dot, with quick interest.

  But instead of replying, the Alligator winked his left eye at her three times and murmured softly, “Step on my middle, please!”

  So Dot stepped upon his back, and being heavier than Tot, the Alligator squeaked louder than before.

  “Thank you! Thank you very much!” he called, in a happy voice. “I have never enjoyed myself so much since I was made.”

  They walked on and left him smiling contentedly as he lay across the path, and before many minutes they reached a circular space of flat country where no trees grew at all, although the forest surrounded it on every side.

  Around the edge of the clearing were wooden barns and stables with their fronts wide open, showing stalls and mangers and stabling for all kinds of toy animals. One had a sign over the door reading “Fire Engine,” and another “Police Patrol.” The stables were all about as high as Dot’s waist, and in some of them were toy animals and stablemen, while others were entirely empty.

  In the center of the space was a big merry-go-round, having thirty-four animals in rows upon its edge, all of which wore pretty saddles and bridles of bright red and blue leather. There were lions, elephants, tigers, deer, camels, horses, donkeys and several other animals, all whirling around in pairs, while a barrel-organ played sweet music. But no one was riding on any of the animals.

  Between the merry-go-round and the stables was a narrow, iron railway track, built in a circle, around which was rushing a big tin engine, drawing a gaily painted train of tin cars, filled with tin passengers that never moved a bit.

  The rest of the opening in the forest was filled with groups of animals of all sorts, some standing perfectly still, some walking stiffly about, and others pretending to eat grass, or slowly wagging their tails from side to side and nodding their heads up and down. Some were covered with real fur, while others were made of tin or wood and painted in natural colors.

  Near the spot where Dot and Tot were standing they noticed a group of wooden rocking horses talking with their heads together, while they rocked gently to and fro upon their rockers. Back of them was one that had broken its rocker and was lying upon its side in quite a helpless condition.

  Almost in front of their path stood a black, woolly dancing bear upon one of its rear legs. It remained perfectly motionless, and the Queen walked up to it and asked:

  “Where is Mr. Split?”

  “He is in the forest winding up the panthers and in the police patrol house oiling up the wagon, your Majesty,” answered the dancing bear in a weak voice. “I’ve been run down now for over three hou
rs, and expected at least half of Mr. Split to come long ago and start me going again; but he seems especially busy this morning.”

  “Yes, there is a great deal of work for him in the Valley,” said the Queen, thoughtfully; “there really should be four of him.”

  “But he has only two arms when he is hooked together,” returned the bear; “so there could not be more than two parts of Mr. Split that could hold a key.”

  “That is true,” said the Queen. Then she looked up and exclaimed. “Here comes Mr. Left Split now.”

  Hopping toward them with wonderful speed was the queerest man the children had seen in all this queer kingdom. He was not, in fact, a complete man, but just half of a man, as if he had been cut in two from the middle of his head straight downward. This left him one ear, one eye, half of a nose and of a mouth, one arm and one leg. He was dressed in a bright red suit and carried in his hand a brass key.

  “Even — , Your Maj — ,” he cried out, as he drew near. “Hap — see!”

  He meant to say: “Good evening, your Majesty, I’m happy to see you,” but there being only half of him he spoke but half of each word.

  “Good evening, Mr. Left Split,” replied the Queen. “I see you are as busy as ever.”

  “Ind — am. Anim — al — get — out ord — “ By this he meant to say: “Indeed I am. The animals are always getting out of order.”

  “Please wind me up at once,” said the dancing bear, in a complaining tone; “I’ve been run down for three hours.”

  “Ver — sor — , but can’t help,” remarked Mr. Left Split, cheerfully, meaning that he was very sorry. He placed the key in a small hole at the back of the bear’s neck and wound it up tightly.

  As soon as he withdrew the key the bear began to move its head by slow jerks from side to side, and to rest first upon one leg and then upon the other, as if it were dancing.

  “That’s better,” it said, in a more pleasant voice; “I ought to run now until sundown.”

  Just then the Queen exclaimed: “Here comes Mr. Right Split,” and the children looked up and saw the other half of the split man coming out of the forest a short distance away. He also had a key in his hand, but when he saw the Queen and her companions he came hopping toward them, saying in his jerky voice “ — Ning, — jesty! — Come our — ley.” By which he meant to say: “Good evening, your Majesty! Welcome to our Valley.” But being the right half of the man he spoke on the right half of each word.

  As soon as he came up, however, there was an end of this mode of speech, for the right half of Mr. Split placed his flat side close to the left half’s flat side and then with both hands he hooked the two halves together with little brass hooks. Then Mr. Split looked more like a complete man, although the left side was dressed in a bright red suit while the right side wore white, so it was easy to see where he was joined together.

  When he had fastened himself securely, which he did with great rapidity, the man spoke, saying, “Your Majesty has found us as busy as ever. The fact is, these animals and cars and merry-go-rounds run down very quickly, and they require so much attention that this is the first time we have been hooked together since early this morning. It is the same every day, but I try to do my duty, and you will find this Valley in good condition and everything properly cared for.”

  “I am sure of that, Mr. Split,” answered the Queen.

  Dot and Tot had been so astonished at all this that they had stood perfectly still, and noticing this Mr. Split came toward them with his key raised and said, briskly:

  “Where are your key holes my dears? You must have run down.”

  “Oh, no!” cried Dot, shrinking back; “We’re — we’re alive!”

  “Oh, that is different,” returned the man, with a laugh. “I’m glad you are not to be wound up, for I am so busy now that there ought to be three or four of me instead of two.”

  “You’re funny,” remarked Tot, who had been staring at Mr. Split.

  “Thank you, sir,” replied the man, bowing politely.

  “What are you made of?” asked the boy, curiously.

  “Wood, of course,” answered the man. “Wood is the strongest and best material for that purpose. My feet are beech, my arms and legs are limbs of ash, my body is pine and my heart is oak. As for my head, it is mostly chestnut, although my hair is curly maple, my eyes mahogany and my teeth hickory.”

  “Oh!” said Tot.

  “You may notice my voice is very strong,” continued the man; “it is made of birch bark.”

  “Oh!” said Tot.

  “And my hands are made of the rubber tree so I can wiggle my fingers easily and turn the keys to wind the machinery.”

  “Oh!” said Tot.

  “If you had not told us this,” remarked Dot, shyly, “we should have thought you were made entirely of witch hazel.”

  The Queen laughed at this, and said: “Now, Mr. Split, if you will kindly gather some fruit and nuts from the forest for our supper we will ride on the merry-go-round until you return.”

  The man bowed and at once ran into the forest on his errand, while Dot and Tot followed the Queen toward the merry-go-round.

  XVII. — The Animals that Wound Up

  When they came to the railway track they were careful not to get run into by the rushing tin train. They waited until the cars had passed the spot where they stood and then quickly ran across the track before the engine came around again.

  The merry-go-round was turning smoothly, and the saddled animals galloped along in an inviting way, while the barrel-organ played some very loud and frisky circus tunes.

  “It’s almost like a side show!” cried Dot enthusiastically, as she seated herself upon a camel. Tot bestrode a dapple-gray horse, and the Queen sat upon a lion and took hold of its mane to steady herself.

  They whirled around in a very pleasant and exhilarating manner for some time, and Dot was laughing and enjoying herself immensely when she happened to notice a number of big teardrops rolling down the cheeks of the tiger that was galloping just in front of her.

  “I — I think it’s — it’s — real mean of you,” whimpered the tiger with sobs in his voice, “for you to ride on that humpbacked animal all the time, and — and neglect a roy — royal Bengal tiger!”

  “Oh, I shall be glad to make a change,” she cried, and leaping off the camel’s back she sprang upon the tiger, who thereupon dried his tears and smiled in a most delightful manner.

  “We seldom have visitors in this Valley,” he said, after he had wiped his eyes with a handkerchief that was sticking in his bridle, “so most of the time there is no one to ride us. I don’t see the good of a merry-go-round if it isn’t used.”

  The Queen now noticed some of the other animals looking discontented, so she and Tot changed seats also, and by the time Mr. Split came to call them to supper they had ridden all the animals in turn, and the keeper noticed that his merry-go-round was bathed in one whirling smile of gladness and content.

  “It is good for my animals to have visitors,” he said, happily, “it cheers them up.”

  Mr. Split had spread a white cloth upon the grass close to one edge of the forest, and Dot and Tot and the Queen sat around this and ate of the delicious fruit the queer man had gathered. There were melons, grapes, bananas, oranges, plums, strawberries, and pears and all were ripe and exquisitely flavored.

  By the time they finished their meal it had become twilight, and the Queen declared it would soon be dark.

  “I wonder where we can sleep,” said Tot. But Dot looked around and saw that Mr. Split was fastening three big hammocks between the trees at the edge of the forest. These hammocks were lined with soft, silken cushions and looked very pleasant and cozy to the sleepy children.

  The Queen and Dot and Tot each climbed into one of the hammocks and were covered over with silk-quilted comfortables, after which Mr. Split turned a key at the end of each hammock and set them moving gently to and fro like the rocking of a cradle.

  Before
she went to sleep Dot looked over the edge of her hammock and saw that the merry-go-round and the tin train were now motionless, while all the animals seemed to have run down and were standing quite still waiting for morning, when Mr. Split would come and wind them up again.

  The little girl was awakened next morning by a sharp clicking sound near by, and opening her eyes she saw a tin monkey running up and down a string fastened to a branch of the tree.

  “Dear me!” she said, looking at him intently; “are you wound up so early in the morning?”

  “Yes, indeed,” replied the monkey, still busily climbing his string; “Mr. Split was here some time ago. I suppose nearly everyone in the Valley must be going by this time.”

  “I didn’t know it was so late,” said Dot, slipping from her hammock to the ground and feeling rather ashamed of her laziness.

  Tot was already up and sitting near the railway track watching the tin train go round. The Queen now joined Dot and they called Tot to breakfast, for Mr. Split had loaded the cloth with a variety of cool, fresh fruit and berries.

  “He gathered those before he unhooked himself,” said the Queen, “for then he had two arms to carry them. But when it came to winding up the animals he had to separate in order that he might use each hand in a different place, and so get around quicker.”

  “Mr. Split’s name suits him very well,” said Dot, who was enjoying the fruit.

  “Yes, it would be hard to call him anything else,” replied the Queen.

  “I suppose your own name fits you in the same way,” ventured the girl.

  “Certainly it does,” answered the Queen.

  Dot’s heart now began to beat rapidly, for she thought she would at last discover what the Queen’s name was. Tot also looked interested, and forgot his slice of melon as he listened.

  “You haven’t told us yet what it is,” said the girl.

  The little Queen laughed merrily. “Isn’t it funny,” she exclaimed, “that I always forget to tell you? There is no reason in the world why you should not know my name.”