By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of The Silver Princess in Oz, "The Wizard of Pumperdink," "King, King! Double King!" etc.
Author of The Silver Princess in Oz, "The Wizard of Pumperdink," "King, King! Double King!" etc.
Originally published in the Oregon Sunday Journal, May 23, 1920.
Once upon a time, longer than long ago, Oliver Elephant had ears about as large as a muffin, not one bit bigger. It was so inconvenient for him to hear ’cause when some little creature went to speak to him he’d have to get down on his knees and put his trunk to his ear to find out what they were saying; and as for his appearance, well, it was just ridiculous.
One day as he was looking sadly in a forest pool and wondering why his ears were so small for the rest of him, the little old man of the woods came by. And the little old man of the woods is a second uncle to a fairy, which makes him quite magic.
“What’s the matter, big Oliver Elephant?” asked the little man of the woods. Oliver put his trunk behind his ear and got down on his knees, for the little fellow was no bigger than a waffle.
“Beg pardon?” said Oliver Elephant, politely. The old man of the woods repeated his question and Oliver Elephant asked him how it was his ears were so small, when all the rest of him was so big.
“If they were larger, my nose or my trunk wouldn’t seem so long!” wailed Oliver Elephant. The little man of the woods shook his head wisely.
“They didn’t grow long enough; they must have been picked too soon,” he said slowly and sat down on a tree stump to think. After a while he began to dance around Oliver Elephant in excited circles.
“I have it. I have it; we’ll plant ’em again and then when they are big enough I’ll pluck them and wish them back on you.”
Oliver Elephant was a bit worried, but when the little man of the woods assured him that he could wish his ears off without hurting him he just heaved a big sigh and told him to go ahead. So the little man did and the next thing that elephant person had no ears at all and the little man of the woods had dug a big hole and planted those he had had. Poor Oliver Elephant—he had enormous trials for a whole four weeks, ’cause he couldn’t hear a single thing anyone said. His enemies slipped up before he could see them and nipped pieces out of him, and his friends were all mad at him because he wouldn’t answer their questions. How could he, I ask, without a single ear?
So finally he just went camping by himself right where the little man of the woods had planted his ears. Every day they grew larger and more shapely and Oliver was tempted two or three times to pick them, but restrained himself because, of course, he could not put them back, and a disconnected ear is like a disconnected telephone—no use.
The little man of the woods had gone on a journey and just as Oliver Elephant was growing very much frightened at the size his ears were reaching, he came back.
“Well,” said the little magic man of the woods, “didn’t I tell you they would grow? Are they all right?”
Oliver could not hear a word he said, but he nodded hard, and next thing he was sitting down three yards off with a terrible headache. The man of the woods had wished his ears back so quickly that the shock had upset Oliver Elephant, but hayricks, how happy he was. He could hear even the grasshoppers singing in the grass, and as for his looks, well you know yourself how becoming they are. Yes, that’s the way Oliver came to have big ears.
One day as he was looking sadly in a forest pool and wondering why his ears were so small for the rest of him, the little old man of the woods came by. And the little old man of the woods is a second uncle to a fairy, which makes him quite magic.
“What’s the matter, big Oliver Elephant?” asked the little man of the woods. Oliver put his trunk behind his ear and got down on his knees, for the little fellow was no bigger than a waffle.
“Beg pardon?” said Oliver Elephant, politely. The old man of the woods repeated his question and Oliver Elephant asked him how it was his ears were so small, when all the rest of him was so big.
“If they were larger, my nose or my trunk wouldn’t seem so long!” wailed Oliver Elephant. The little man of the woods shook his head wisely.
“They didn’t grow long enough; they must have been picked too soon,” he said slowly and sat down on a tree stump to think. After a while he began to dance around Oliver Elephant in excited circles.
“I have it. I have it; we’ll plant ’em again and then when they are big enough I’ll pluck them and wish them back on you.”
Oliver Elephant was a bit worried, but when the little man of the woods assured him that he could wish his ears off without hurting him he just heaved a big sigh and told him to go ahead. So the little man did and the next thing that elephant person had no ears at all and the little man of the woods had dug a big hole and planted those he had had. Poor Oliver Elephant—he had enormous trials for a whole four weeks, ’cause he couldn’t hear a single thing anyone said. His enemies slipped up before he could see them and nipped pieces out of him, and his friends were all mad at him because he wouldn’t answer their questions. How could he, I ask, without a single ear?
So finally he just went camping by himself right where the little man of the woods had planted his ears. Every day they grew larger and more shapely and Oliver was tempted two or three times to pick them, but restrained himself because, of course, he could not put them back, and a disconnected ear is like a disconnected telephone—no use.
The little man of the woods had gone on a journey and just as Oliver Elephant was growing very much frightened at the size his ears were reaching, he came back.
“Well,” said the little magic man of the woods, “didn’t I tell you they would grow? Are they all right?”
Oliver could not hear a word he said, but he nodded hard, and next thing he was sitting down three yards off with a terrible headache. The man of the woods had wished his ears back so quickly that the shock had upset Oliver Elephant, but hayricks, how happy he was. He could hear even the grasshoppers singing in the grass, and as for his looks, well you know yourself how becoming they are. Yes, that’s the way Oliver came to have big ears.
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, February 2, 1919.
Careless of the Lord High Humpus
The Lord High Humpus, adding up
The Royal books one night,
Fell fast asleep and overturned
His tall red candle light.
The fire went creeping ’long the floor.
Sudden the King awoke.
“My dear,” he shook the Queen, “a fire!
A fire! I smell the smoke!”
He jumped into his slippers and
He seized his shaving cup—
’Twas full of suds—and off he ran
To wake the castle up.
The Queen, with her canary bird
And bottle of cologne,
Ran after him to quench the blaze—
The trumpets all were blown.
The Lord High Humpus with singed toes
Had fled, no one knew where;
The courtiers with scared faces first
Ran here and then ran there.
The fire was at the castle’s end—
The volunteer fire service
Fell to with buckets, mugs and jugs,
But volunteers are nervous.
One must admit a deal of water
Spilled, and many tumbled.
Three pails were thrown upon the King,
But pshaw! he never grumbled.
The Queen’s tears added to the flow,
When all at once a cheer
Went up from every one. “Oh, look!
Sir Solomon is here!”
The Lord High Humpus puffed behind.
They carried a long hose.
Sir Solomon Tremendous Wise,
His night cap on his nose,
Came running. “All stand back,” he cried.
The which they did according.
He got quite close, three buckets
And a tub of water fording.
Pointing the big end of the hose
Straight at the fire, he turned
A little screw. “Look out there, you
Aren’t singed or scorched or burned!”
The King called—oh, my wordy! It
Sucked up the flames like dust.
“My vacuum extinguisher for
Fires,” not one bit fussed.
Sir Solomon spoke calmly and—
My stars the fire was out!
I tell you now Sir Solomon’s
A pretty good old scout!
Copyright © 2026 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.
