Wednesday, December 30, 2015


By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of Speedy in Oz, Ozoplaning with the Wizard of Oz, The Wish Express, "King, King! Double King!" etc.
Illustrated by Frank Godwin

Originally published in the Phildelphia Public Ledger,  October 12, 1919.

HEIGHO—there was once a Kingdom where the sky was always blue—the King always kind and the people always happy! They sang from morning till night—the King louder than all the rest. He even sang in his sleep. Yes—really! So, no wonder it happened—no wonder at all!

Listen—one morning as the fiddlers were fiddling the jolliest tune imaginable and the King singing away for dear life—my stars!—his voice, his beautiful voice—cracked and broke into about twenty pieces. Think of it! The fiddlers stopped fiddling—the Queen wept and called for her smelling salts—the wise men came hurrying from every direction. Some said—“Do this”—and some said, “Do that”—but nobody did anything till the old Court Doctor arrived.

He put on his horn spectacles and looked down the King’s throat. “Say AH—!” ordered the little man. Then he shook his head and began looking all around.

“Where are the pieces?” he cried in a loud voice—“The King’s voice is broken and cannot be mended till we find the pieces.” Every one looked and looked—but nobody could find them till all at once the Doctor spied the King’s pet duck. “Aha!” he roared, pointing at the poor creature—“So YOU have eaten the pieces—well then the King must eat YOU!”

So he did—though very sorrowfully, in a huge pasty—and would you believe it—his voice did mend—but ever afterward it had a strange sound—almost—yes, almost like the quack of his duck—but as the Doctor said over and over—the only way to mend a voice is to assemble the pieces, for a voice is one thing that cannot be put in splints. And he is perfectly right about that.

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, May 23, 1920.

The Puzzle Corner

The Forgetful Poet seems to be full of ideas in the spring. The answers to his various rhymes and riddles last week were palette, and a hen would feather stitch if she sewed. The missing clothing from his verses were pumps, hose, cap, waist, suit and boot.

The week he begs to state that his puzzles are very stately. I do not know just what he means, but perhaps he has concealed some states in these ridiculous lines. They may be abbreviated.

A Comical State of Affairs

O, send for Henry Prim, Md.,
Miss Ellen is quite ill,
Said Minn to pa and then to me
Oh, la, my child, keep still!

Sweet Cal, she had a mass of hair
Tenn times her share, I wis!
’Tis hard to wash and quite a care
To Cal, I’m sure it is.

Conn had a little Noah’s Ark,
I have a little store
With salt and scales and sample cans
And oilcloth on the floor.

[Answers next time.]

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