Tuesday, March 1, 2005

THE ENCHANTED PUMPKIN

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of Jack Pumpkinhead of Oz, "The Wizard of Pumperdink", "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, October 19, 1919.

Heighho! In the kingdom of Kerry, my ducks,
As the clock in the courtyard struck eight
It happened, as sure as my best boots are buckled,
A pumpkin pie burst from its plate!

But, pshaw! Let me tell it aright. All the court
And the king had been dining, the feast
Had progressed to the pie, a huge pumpkin one. I
Might remark though 'twas last 'twas not least.

The king and the queen soon disposed of their slices
But half a pie stood on the plate.
And as each one remarked to his neighbor, "How nice is
This pie," Why - the court clock struck eight.

Then up sprang the half pie! Next thing a half coach
Crashed around among dishes and spoons!
The king drew his sword, and the court ladies fell
In a series of suitable swoons.

A wise man was summoned, a doctor as well,
The distress of the company increases,
Oh, dear! They had eaten a half of a coach
And were full of uncomfortable pieces!

That pumpkin, sweethearts, had grown up from a seed
Of a fairy tale pumpkin, the same
Cinderella had gone to the ball in, it turned
Every night to a coach. What a shame!

Unawares they had eaten of cushions and wood,
Gilded curtains, springs, lap robe and spoke,
They groaned with dismay and, I really must say,
It was rather a dolorous joke.

But just at the worst, pshaw, the court clock struck twelve
And the pumpkin coach turned back to pie,
The half that was eaten and that on the plate,
But wasn't it comical? My!



THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, October 28, 1917

Riddles

My, what sharp guessers you are! Why, there were hundreds of correct answers to the riddle verses. In their proper order they are: Butter, jam, bridge, ball, palms and nails. China is the Flowery Kingdom and England the Tight Little Island.

Tell me now, why is a nutcracker like an after-dinner speaker?

And what do you find here:

A part of the body,
And part of that part,
Is a game which is just
About ready to start!

A part of a book
Often causes us pain,
And no end of distress
To our doctor's sure gain.

A part of a tree
We must sometimes e'en take
And an athlete is surely
Concealed in each cake!



Copyright © 2005 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, February 1, 2005

TO MACATAWA

Rhapsody by L. Frank Baum
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Woggle-Bug Book, The Boy Fortune Hunters in the South Seas, etc.

Originally published September 1, 1907.

[L. Frank Baum, after his earliest successes as an author, spent several summers with his wife Maud and their four sons in their cottage at the Lake Michigan resort of Macatawa not far from Holland, Michigan.]

WRITTEN FOR THE [Grand Rapids, Michigan, Sunday] HERALD.

Fair Macatawa, let me fling
My praises in thy face, and sing
A tribute so deserved, mayhap
All men to nestle in thy lap
Will long, and be inspired with zest
To rest their heads upon thy breast!

This may be metaphoric, yet
The nestle and the rest you bet
Your badge belong no place but here -
And here you'll find them, never fear.
I beg to ask where else you'll find
A summer haven that's designed
So perfectly to charm mankind
And tone the liver, heart and mind?
Where else is every nerve relaxed
And every lung-cell overtaxed
To breathe the ozone laden breeze
That gives you sleep whene'er you please?
Where else do jaunty villas peep
From leafy bowers across the deep
Expense of Michigan, who soaks
With crystal tears the bathing-folks?
Where else does fickle appetite
Aspire to reach a dizzy height
In order that it may deplete
Your purse to feed it stuff to eat?
Where else in all the world's expanse
Do sunsets get so good a chance
To spread themselves and make us cry:
"They've spilled a paint-shop in the sky?"
Where else can maidens get so wet
When wearing bathing-suits? and yet
Where else is humor half so dry
Or wit and wisdom half so spry?
Where else do bridge fiends congregate
So thickly, or sit up so late?
Where else do pretty wives despise
The art of making goo-goo eyes
And husbands their own wires adore
Exclusively - and nothing more?
Where else do lovers seek the trail
Through woodland glens, and never fail
To cling together at all cost
To keep themselves from getting lost?
Where else are peaches double price
Because they taste so mighty nice?
Where else are peas so luscious sweet
Or chickens half so good to eat?
Where else are fishes so polite
That on your hook they always bite?
Where else do cottagers dictate
The cost of lights, the water rate.
And run the whole shebang just right
To make the sore-heads rave and fight?
Where else, in short, is found so nice
An imitation paradise?

Happy the boy or girl who knows
This land of rainbows, beaux and bows,
Where every night there is a chance
To revel in the merry dance;
Where motor boats are thick as bees
And all can mote whene'er they please;
Where all is love and peace and joy
Without a 'skeeter to annoy
Or sign of any carking care
To be discovered anywhere.

On you, dear Mac., where stands my shack,
I'll ne'er by work or deed go back;
But ever will I drool they praise
And love thee well for all my days.



THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, October 21, 1917.

A Handful of Riddles What Have We Here?

What a goat's sometimes called
I can spread on my bread,
Or part of a door will
Do nicely instead.

A part of my nose
I can cross, I suppose,
And part of my eye I could throw,
If I chose.

While part of my hands
Grow in tropical lands,
And part of my fingers
All building demands!

Where is the Flowery Kingdom and what do we mean when we say The Tight Little Island?


Copyright © 2005 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Saturday, January 1, 2005

OLIVER ELEPHANT LEARNS TO SWIM

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of The Cowardly Lion of Oz, "The Wizard of Pumperdink", "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, August 30, 1914.



And so - Oliver Elephant learned to swim! Pshaw! here I am beginning at the tail 'stead of the trunk of the story. This was the way of it. Big little Oliver Elephant was standing on the edge of a GREAT DEEP forest pool looking at his picture in the water. He was SO busy admiring himself that he didn't hear a scrunching back of him. I'll tell you who it was. His GREAT BIG father elephant and his GREAT BIG uncle, Abner Elephant. And when they saw Oliver nodding and perking at himself in the water - father elephant - he winked at Uncle Abner Elephant and whispered behind his trunk: "Brother, I think it's time our little Oliver Elephant learned to SWIM!"

And Uncle Abner Elephant he winked at father elephant, and he said, "Brother, I think so, too!" Then, very q-u-i-e-t-l-y they came stepping up to where little Oliver Elephant was.

And what do you suppose happened next? Why, just as Oliver Elephant started to say, "What a handsome chap I - " KERSPLASH! His picture had hit him in the eye, and next thing it had swallowed him right up - I mean down. For his great big father and his great big Uncle Abner Elephant had pushed him into the pool. (I don't think Oliver Elephant's mother would have like this at all.)

"Ooooooh!" wailed Oliver Elephant - gallons and gallons of water went gurgling down his throat and roaring into his ears. His trunk was full of water - his eyes were full of water and it seemed as tho' he had swallowed a barrelful o' pins. Down, down, DOWN he went, past squidgy fishes and scrabbley fishes and hodge-podgy fishes. They got out of his way I can tell you!

Well, just as he thought he had swallowed the whole pool he began to rise, and pretty soon his head and trunk were above water.

And the first thing that he saw when the water got out of his eye was a grinning crocodile on the opposite bank. "Haw, haw, haw!" roared the crocodile, opening its giant mouth and showing its both rows of teeth. "Haw, haw, HAW!" This made Oliver Elephant SO mad that he took a deep breath and blew about twenty gallons of water STRAIGHT DOWN the crocodile's throat. "Glub!" gurgled the crocodile and rolled over on his back, and I expect if his wife had not come out just then and banged him hard on the back with her tail he would have choked.

But Oliver Elephant didn't have time to think about how the crocodile felt, for just about then he began to go DOWN again.

"Work your feet!" roared Uncle Abner Elephant. "Work your feet!" roared his big, big father, and both of them came splashing toward him. Course they weren't going to let him go down AGAIN.

When Oliver saw them coming he felt madder than ever. Besides half the water in the pool he had swallowed several small fishes, and they were floating around inside of him, which was very unpleasant!

He really felt very disagreeable. "It's all your fault - blub! glub! - Huhwait till I get you!" wheezed little Oliver Elephant. And he was so very anxious to catch up to his great big father and his great big Uncle Abner Elephant and do something perfectly awful to them - perfectly awful, mind you - that he forgot he couldn't swim - and he began to work his legs like ferry-boat paddles.

"Hurray! Hurray! Oliver Elephant is swimming!" cried Uncle Abner, waving his trunk. "That's it! That's the way!" shouted father elephant, nearly bursting with pride.

And sure enough Oliver Elephant WAS SWIMMING. And when he found how easy it was - and how nice it was - why he forgot all about the water in his eyes - and the fishes in his stomach - and the awful things he was going to do to his great big father and Uncle Abner Elephant (I'm rather glad of this) - and he smiled a great big proud smile.

When he came up with his Uncle Abner and his father they clapped him on the back with their trunks and told him what a smart little elephant he was—and after that they swam 'round and 'round the pool and had a wonderful time. Then they climbed out and all went home to tell Oliver's great big kind mother that he had learned to swim.

They didn't tell her that they had pushed him in tho'- and Oliver Elephant he didn't tell her either.

Oliver's mother was so proud that she made a great big huge cocoanut pie for supper, and they were all tremendously happy, and after that Oliver Elephant went swimming every day.



THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, October 7, 1917

The Forgetful Poet

The other day our rhyming friend
Agreed to speak before a meeting.
Engrossed with all he meant to say
He quite forgot that time is fleeting.

The people came and filled the chairs.
The moment for the speech drew nigh.
The ushers, anxious, watched the doors
And people whispered, "Where!" and "Why?"

Meanwhile in bed, the poet wrote,
And wrote and wrote and wrote,
Nor of the passing minutes took
He heed, nor thought, nor note!

The hour for the meeting came
And passed. The crowds went home.
And still unconscious of all things
The poet wrote his poem!



Copyright © 2005 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, December 1, 2004

HOW THE WOGGLEBUG AND HIS FRIENDS VISITED SANTA CLAUS

By L. Frank Baum
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Woggle-Bug Book, The Boy Fortune Hunters in the South Seas, etc.

From the Queer Visitors from the Marvelous Land of Oz Comic Page series
Originally published December 18, 1904.


"It's nearly Christmas time," said the Scarecrow, yesterday, "and I really think we ought to do something for the children of America who have welcomed us so kindly."

"What can we do?" asked the Tin Woodman.

"Why, it seems that on every Christmas Santa Claus brings the children toys for presents. So it strikes me that we also ought to furnish toys for the little ones, to prove our love for them," returned the Scarecrow.

"But where can we get the toys?" the Wogglebug inquired. "We have no money with which to purchase such things."

"True," acknowledged the Straw Man; "but in Oz we do without money, because when we want a thing we create it by means of the magical arts we are learned in. Let us therefore provide, by means of our magic, the toys we require for the children."

This suggestion being agreed to, they all retired to private rooms, that they might create the toys undisturbed and before long the Tin Woodman came back with an armful of tiny tin men that were exact duplicates of himself. They were all jointed in their legs and arms, and their heads could be made to turn to right or left.

Soon after, the Scarecrow entered the room carrying a lot of rag dolls that were small images of himself. These baby scarecrows were very quaint and amusing, and there was no doubt the children would like them. Then Jack Pumpkinhead brought in a number of small pumpkin heads, made out of paper, but with features exactly resembling Jack himself.

"They're hollow inside," said Jack; "but the children can fill them with candy."

When the Wogglebug entered the room he brought quantities of wee wogglebugs, dressed just like himself, and having their four arms and their legs made of wire and covered with fuzzy worsted. These toys were so comical that all the party laughed when they saw them.

"But our friend the Sawhorse must not be neglected," said the Scarecrow; so he went away and did a little more magic, and soon returned with a drove of small wooden sawhorses, which had wheels under each of their legs, so that the children could draw them over the floor by means of strings.

"Let us carry them to Santa Claus," suggested the Tin Woodman. "He can take them in his sleigh and distribute them with his other Christmas gifts."

This plan being approved, the entire party mounted aboard the Gump, which flew with them far away to the Laughing Valley where Santa Claus lives. They found the dear old man sitting in an easy chair before his fire, and smoking a short pipe. He had finished his yearly labors, and his sleigh was already loaded with packages of toys for the children's Christmas, while the ten reindeer stamped impatiently to be off and away upon their journey.

"You are just in time!" exclaimed Santa Claus, "and I will gladly carry your toys to the little ones."

"We would like every child to have one of them," said the Scarecrow.

"But - good gracious, my friends!" cried bluff old Santa, "you haven't enough for a quarter of the children I shall visit."

This news made the people from Oz very sad and downcast; but, noticing this, the good old man added: "Never mind; I'll make them go as far as I can, and these toys are so pretty that next year I will make a lot of them myself, so that every child may get one for Christmas. But now I must be off, or I shall never get my journey finished by Christmas morning."

So Santa Claus placed the toys in his sleigh and himself mounted the seat. The people of Oz also got into the Gump again, and then Santa said, with a sly wink:

"Let's have a race."

"To be sure," agreed the Scarecrow; "but nothing can go so swiftly as the flight of the Gump."

Santa Claus made no answer in words, but he cracked his long whip, and away shot the reindeer - swift as the wind.

The Gump flew as it had never flown before, but every effort to keep pace with the sleigh of jolly Santa was in vain, and presently the people of Oz looked down through the moonlight and saw a tiny speck far ahead of them, which was their last view of the sleigh-load of toys destined for the children's Christmas.

"We are beaten," remarked the Scarecrow. "But I imagine Santa Claus is a greater magician than any that has ever lived in our Land of Oz."

And the Wogglebug quoted, impressively, these lines:

" 'Around the man who seeks a noble end,
Not angels, but divinities attend.'

"That," said he, "was written by a famous American poet."

"What was his name?" asked the Scarecrow, curiously.

And the Wogglebug told him.

[Ralph Waldo Emerson]



THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, September 16, 1917.

We moved the other day
From where I've always lived before,
And all I want to say is this--
That moving's worse than war!

The rugs are banked and boxes stand
All ready for one's shins,
And all the things I need
Are underneath the kitchen tins.

The furniture, like raw recruits,
Stands 'round all points and edges.
The curtains are too narrow
And lean sadly on the ledges.

The books, like shipwrecked sailors,
Tied together float about--
I hardly know which way to turn,
So guess I'll just go out!
(How helpful!)



Copyright © 2004 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Monday, November 1, 2004

MARVELOUS TRAVELS ON A WISH, Part Six

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of The Wish Express, Captain Salt in Oz, "The Wizard of Pumperdink", "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, September 17 and 24, 1916, and The Wonder Book, 1929.

[Ruth Plumly Thompson's Marvelous Travels on a Wish was serialized in the Philadelphia Public Ledger for thirteen Sundays in 1916, the longest of Thompson's serials to appear on the Ledger's "For Boys and Girls" page. A heavily abridged version was later published in Thompson's 1929 anthology The Wonder Book. Hungry Tiger Press is proud to present this little-known fantasy in six installments. Typographical errors have been corrected and paragraph divisions have been brought into line with standard usage.]


Synopsis, or What Happened Before

Berens, a little boy who is tired of his home, wishes himself Somewhere Else. He and his little dog, Rags, are bitten by the Dissatisfied Bug, who whirls them through the clouds and aboard a wish, which is somewhat like a trolley car. The wish is full of dissatisfied folks, also bound for Somewhere Else. There is an elephant, a donkey, a farmer's boy, a horse, a little old lady, a little old gentleman, a red-headed little girl, a serving maid and a poet on board. Just as Berens had managed to get a seat a terrible-looking creature came to collect the fares.

It was Envy, the conductor of the Wish, and each passenger stole something from his neighbor to pay Envy his fare. Stuffing the articles into his hat, Envy retires, announcing that the next station will be TALKTOWN. As the Wish rushes on its way Berens and Sarah Ann, the little red-headed girl become great friends. Sarah Ann explains that she is going to be a beautiful little girl without freckles when she arrives Somewhere Else.

Talktown is a frightful place. The members of the party have some narrow escapes, and Rags and Berens are buried under a falling house.

Here they meet the "I'm a goin'tos" - who are always "going to do" great things. Aboard the wish once more, the passengers all tell what they are going to be when they reach Somewhere Else.

Just as Berens is about to tell what he will be, the wish stops at the Abode of Discontentment, where people carry umbrellas so as not to see the sun. Berens is introduced to the Glooms, a very bluish person!

The party finally escapes from the Bogs of the State of Discontentment, board the Wish and continue their journey to Somewhere Else.

Passing through Dreamland, the Wish arrives finally Somewhere Else, where they are introduced to the King and Queen and each one's wish gratified.


____________


The springs of the barouche were almost touching the wheels and the horse went bouncing and jouncing and jolting from one side of the seat to the other. It seemed to Berens that the black steeds were purposely galloping over all the bumps and thank-you-ma'ams in the road. Between holding the lines and his hat and keeping his seat the horse was having a horrible time of it. Indeed, he looked utterly cast down.

"Oh, my bones! Oh, my teeth! I'll be shattered to bits," Berens heard him groan as the barouche swung round the corner on one wheel.

"He doesn't seem to like riding after all," said Berens thoughtfully to himself. He walked on slowly down the street, thinking with regret of what might be happening to Sarah Ann. As he turned the corner he caught a glimpse of the elephant.

"Why, he's been no end of places," thought Berens, and, indeed, my dears, the elephant's trunk was literally covered with labels.

Berens made up his mind to run after the elephant and ask him about his travels when the sound of gay music from the opposite direction made him turn about suddenly. It was the King and Queen and all the courtiers. Before marched the Royal Orchestra playing upon golden horns and harps. The music was so sweet and compelling that Berens simply had to follow the procession. It wound in and out the streets of Somewhere Else, on and on, till Berens could scarcely drag one foot after the other for weariness. Each time that he would pause and decide to turn back the music gave a queer little rustle that sent him on again, or else the Queen would throw back a smile or wave her perfumed handkerchief.

How long he followed the gay company Berens never knew, for all at once the Queen turned and held out both arms, while the horns gave a joyous blast that sent him leaping forward, only to run headlong into a stone wall. Illusion and Delusion, King and Queen of Somewhere Else, the golden harps and horns and all the gay courtiers had vanished. Berens picked himself up slowly and looked at the gaunt gray wall with a shudder. It is not pleasant for any of us when we have run against that wall of facts that we must find at last - even in Somewhere Else.

"I wonder where they went," thought Berens, staring blankly around him.

It had grown very late and he felt very lonely indeed as he stood in the shadow of the wall and watched the people of Somewhere Else hurrying home to their suppers.

Suddenly he gave a little scream of delight. Who do you s'pose was coming toward him? Why, Rags. Rags with his nose glued fast to the pavement and his ears cocked anxiously, his tail a perfect interrogation point.

"Rags! Rags!" called Berens joyously.

Rags paused a moment, put up one ear, then, with a blank stare at Berens or rather at Some One Else, he trotted sadly on.

"Oh, he doesn't know me!" wailed poor Berens, and in spite of himself tears began to roll slowly down his cheeks.

Here an even worse thing happened. Some One Else's shoes began to tug and jerk and Berens, powerless to help himself, was hustled back to Some One Else's home where something else simply dreadful awaited him. Oh, he was sure of that!

This time Some One Else's mother opened the door. Suddenly her eye lighted on a dark stain on Some One Else's blouse.

"JAM!" cried Some One Else's mother in an awful tone.

Without more ado Berens was whisked into the gloomy library. Some One Else's father put down his paper and glared at him severely. Some One Else's mother pointed in terrible silence to the jam spot.

"How dared you steal the jam?" thundered Some One Else's father. "How dared you tell a story? How dared you run away?"

By this time his bony fingers had closed upon Berens' collar and after that it happened! It makes me feel very bad, so I'll just tell you there was a cane in it and let it go at that.

After IT was over Some One Else's mother sent him supperless to bed. Some One Else's bed was full of hard lumps. Berens twisted and tossed and felt very sad and sore. He kept thinking of Rags running about in the dark, scared and lonely.

"I'll not stay here," he exclaimed at last. "I'll not be Some One Else any longer."

So he slipped hastily out of Some One Else's bed and crept down the three flights of stairs. Noiselessly he let himself out of Some One Else's house. So many strange and marvelous things are always passing in the streets of Somewhere Else that the people paid little attention to Berens scurrying along in Some One Else's pajamas. Indeed, they hardly noticed him. He walked up and down looking for Rags, but could find no trace of him anywhere. At length, tired and discouraged, he had come to the gorgeous park where he had been presented to the King and Queen. He sat forlornly down on one of the golden benches and kicked his heels dejectedly together. A hollow groan made him turn.

"Oh, my! Oh, dear!" sighed a heavy voice close at hand.

Peering into the gloom, Berens saw a little man huddled together in an ermine cloak sitting at the other end of the bench. He was wringing his hands and rocking to and fro in deepest misery.

"What's the matter?" cried Berens, edging over beside him. (He was so lonely that talking to any one was a relief).

"Oh, my crown," wailed the little man; "being King is a wretched business!"

Here a breathless courier in lace breeches rushed into the little rim of light make by one of the park lamps.

"Your Most Serene, Elegant, Gracious and Noble Highness," a page said to him, "there's a cabinet meeting at 10. The Duke of Fuddle Duddle wishes to confer with you upon matters of state at 10:30. The Princess of the realm desires your August Presence at the opera at 11. The Baron De Rox awaits your decision upon the war in Euphasia. The Master of the Exchequer bids me inform you that the royal treasury is short $5000. The Dutch - "

"Stop, stop," shrieked the little man, waving his arms wildly. "I'll not come. I'll not go," and, backing precipitately, he tumbled off the edge of the bench.

Berens and the courier hastily went to his assistance and finally set him and his crown and his ermine robe up again.

"I tell you my very crown aches," said the little man in a complaining voice, turning from one to the other.

"Why don't you take it off?" asked Berens politely.

"There's many that'll do it for 'em," said the courier, with a broad wink at Berens. "They do be saying in the city," he whispered loudly behind his hand, "that they'll be taking his head off before next Michaelmas."

"Oh, woe, woe!" groaned the little man, and collapsed utterly.

They waited in silence for some time. All at once the old fellow straightened up stiffly. With both hands he lifted the crown from his head.

"Here, take it away!" cried he, holding it out to the courier. "Take it away, I tell you!" and he stamped his foot imperiously.

The courier took the crown gingerly, paused for a few moments as if he could not believe his ears, then, fearing lest the old gentleman should change his mind, ran at top speed, the crown tightly clasped to his stomach.

"Ah - h!" breathed the little man who had wanted to be King in relieved voice.

Here a terrible racket at the other end of the park made them both turn around. It was the elephant. With his trunk full of papers and maps he stood beneath one of the park lamps trumpeting defiance at a whole crowd of men and women, who also flourished papers and maps.

"I tell you it can't be so!"

"Nonsense!"

"Absurd!"

"Impossible!" shouted the crowd derisively.

"I tell you it is so!" The elephant unrolled one of his maps and angrily shook it in the face of the crowd. "There!" he trumpeted loudly. "There! It's a brand new country, I tell you! A brand new country - and I - I discovered it!"

"Bosh!" yelled the crowd. "Humbug!" and hooting with mirth they danced about the elephant.

Berens watched breathlessly. He could see that the elephant was growing very angry. Flapping his huge ears with rage, he suddenly pitched the whole bunch of papers and maps into their midst.

"Blockheads!" he shrilled hoarsely and turning his back upon the crowds lumbered wrathfully toward Berens and the little man who had been King.

"What's the use of discovering anything?" he grumbled crossly, "when nobody will believe you when you get through discovering it. Blockheads! Blockheads! Who are you?" he grunted with an irritable wave of his trunk at Berens.

"Why, I'm Some One Else," said Berens mournfully.

"Well, you don't look very happy," snapped the elephant, rocking to and fro violently. "If you just knew what I've been through!" he added, rolling his little eyes. Indeed, he was scratched and torn up and covered with dust and stickers. "Humph!" he continued, "as I - "

"Oh, what's that?" cried Berens, interrupting him.

From a great clump of trees to the right excited voices were wafted to them.

"Won't you please write in my autograph book?"

"Oh, please give me a lock of your hair!"

"Come back! Come back!"

The babble of voices grew louder and louder and suddenly from out of the gloom burst the poet, a laurel wreath bobbing wildly up and down over one ear.

"Will you just look at these verses?" called a thin man, waving a dirty piece of paper as he panted along gasping at the poet's heels.

"Do you use a stub or a pointed pen?" called another.

"Come back! Come back!" shouted the rest.

"Oh, fame! Why did I desire thee?" moaned the poet, as he sprinted along, mopping his hot forehead and glancing wildly over his shoulder. "Go away! Go away! I want to be left alone!" he called loudly, and pulling off his laurel wreath tossed it to his pursuers. Immediately they left off chasing him and fell to quarrelling over the wreath.

The poet dropped heavily upon the bench beside Berens. Hardly had he been seated before a flashily clad youth came sneaking along in his stocking feet - a patent-leather pump in each hand. He looked nervously about and then sank wearily upon another of the benches.

"That must be the Farmer's Boy!" thought Berens and watched him with interest to see what kind of a time he was having Somewhere Else.

At that moment there was a rustle in the shrubbery behind them.

"Oh, he must be here!" remarked a low voice. "We'll just look around a bit."

At this the millionaire who had been the Farmer's Boy gave a start.

"Ah, there you are!" cried the voice in a relieved tone, and a plump little man came hurrying into the light. He was followed by several other obsequious-looking individuals. "Just let me explain why you should invest in the Mud Bank Company," began the little plump man, seating himself on the edge of the bench and taking out a roll of papers.

"Stop," cried the Farmer's Boy, waving his pumps feebly. Clumsily he turned out his pockets. "Get out," said he in a tired voice.

The men fell greedily upon the gold pieces and bank notes and disappeared in a twinkling.

The millionaire who had been a Farmer's Boy leaned back with a sigh and began absently fanning himself with his pumps. "Not a minute to call my own. Invest in this, invest in that, take a share here and a share there, now hurry to this place and now hurry off to that. Can't get no rest nohow."

"Hello! There comes Floribel Elizabeth," cried Berens excitedly. And Floribel Elizabeth Sarah Ann it surely was. Her white dress hung in ribbons, her pink sash dangled limply about her knees.

"Hello!" she called listlessly.

Berens ran eagerly to meet her, then both of them paused to look in amazement at a singular-looking creature who was coming up the walk.

"Why, it must be the donkey," said Floribel Elizabeth.

"But it's got horns," gasped Berens.

It was certainly the most remarkable looking beast. It had a donkey's body and ears topped by wide-spreading antlers. Upon the antlers hung every sort of an object. Pieces of cloth, bits of rubbish, dead branches, till it looked like nothing so much as a walking hatrack. It wobbled along uncertainly, its head wagging from side to side.

"If I could just manage these confounded horns," the children heard it mumble, as it swayed dizzily up the walk. It paid no attention to Berens and Floribel Elizabeth's "hello," but went and stood by itself under a tree, its head and tail drooping limply.

The next to join the party was the horse. It came hobbling along stiffly, stopping every few moments to put his hoof to his back.

"Don't speak of riding to me," he called, with an eloquent wave of his tail and roll of his eye. "Don't - "

"Oh, oh, oh!" wailed a high voice out of the night.

"Oh, oh, oh," echoed a higher one still.

Here two elegantly gowned young ladies flopped upon another of the golden benches and began weeping bitterly into their lace handkerchiefs.

"It must be the old lady and the serving maid," whispered Floribel Elizabeth Sarah Ann.

"Well," snorted the elephant, with a wave of his trunk, "this is a pleasant party."

At this every one gave a deep groan.

"Well, I've just had enough Floribel Elizabeth stuff," announced Sarah Ann decidedly. "I've been washed and dressed and dressed and washed and scolded and lectured and dressed and washed."

"I've had enough of Somewhere Else," thundered the elephant, interrupting rudely. "I want to go back where everything is discovered and nothing is new."

"Oh, being Some One Else is awful," cried Berens, wiping his eyes on Some One Else's nightshirt. "Oh, even divisions were better than this!" and he went and sat sadly upon one of the benches.

"I'm so tired," wailed the little old lady, who was young and charming again. "I tell you, old age has its compensations. Hurry, hurry, worry, worry, rush here, rush there, not a minute to rest."

"Unhook me, somebody, quick," gasped the other young lady, who had been the serving maid. "I'm choked by this dress and my slippers pinch, and if I only had some corned beef and cabbage!!!!"

Now every one raised his voice in a dismal wail. Berens hardly heard what they were saying, for suddenly, off at the end of the park, he caught sight of a great red brick house set in a wide garden. Lights blazed cheerily from all the windows. From one of the upper rooms he could see a little boy just about his own size lying upon a rug before the open fire, reading. There were a great many bright pictures upon the walls of this room and scattered about were tennis rackets, boxing gloves, baseball bats, electrical motors and engines - everything, in fact, that the heart of a boy could desire.


Read the rest of the story in
THE WISH EXPRESS
by Ruth Plumly Thompson

The Wish Express Cover


THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, August 5, 1917

The Forgetful Poet

The Forgetful Poet is still at the seashore and his verses are as comical as usual:

On Fishing

I went a fishing yesterday -
They told me it was sport.
Next time I'll choose a pastime
Of a very different ___!

Going out I felt delighted
And prepared myself to spend
A charming day, but, oh, I say!
That soon came to an ___!

We anchored in the sun and then
The boat began to sway
And I began to realize
How I should spend the ___.

I begged them to turn back again.
"What? Spoil our fishing - never!"
And then they made some crude remarks
Which they considered ___!

Each minute seemed a hundred years,
My watch ne'er went so slow;
I got a fishhook in my thumb -
Ne'er more to fish I'll ___.

[Answers next time.]




Copyright © 2004 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Friday, October 1, 2004

MARVELOUS TRAVELS ON A WISH, Part Five

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of Handy Mandy in Oz, "The Wizard of Pumperdink", "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, September 3 and 10, 1916.

[Ruth Plumly Thompson's Marvelous Travels on a Wish was serialized in the Philadelphia Public Ledger for thirteen Sundays in 1916, the longest of Thompson's serials to appear on the Ledger's "For Boys and Girls" page. A heavily abridged version was later published in Thompson's 1929 anthology The Wonder Book. Hungry Tiger Press is proud to present this little-known fantasy in six installments. Typographical errors have been corrected and paragraph divisions have been brought into line with standard usage.]


Synopsis, or What Happened Before

Berens, a little boy who is tired of his home, wishes himself Somewhere Else. He and his little dog, Rags, are bitten by the Dissatisfied Bug, who whirls them through the clouds and aboard a wish, which is somewhat like a trolley car. The wish is full of dissatisfied folks, also bound for Somewhere Else. There is an elephant, a donkey, a farmer's boy, a horse, a little old lady, a little old gentleman, a red-headed little girl, a serving maid and a poet on board. Just as Berens had managed to get a seat a terrible-looking creature came to collect the fares.

It was Envy, the conductor of the Wish, and each passenger stole something from his neighbor to pay Envy his fare. Stuffing the articles into his hat, Envy retires, announcing that the next station will be TALKTOWN. As the Wish rushes on its way Berens and Sarah Ann, the little red-headed girl become great friends. Sarah Ann explains that she is going to be a beautiful little girl without freckles when she arrives Somewhere Else.

Talktown is a frightful place. The members of the party have some narrow escapes, and Rags and Berens are buried under a falling house.

Here they meet the "I'm a goin'tos" - who are always "going to do" great things. Aboard the wish once more, the passengers all tell what they are going to be when they reach Somewhere Else.

Just as Berens is about to tell what he will be, the wish stops at the Abode of Discontentment, where people carry umbrellas so as not to see the sun. Berens is introduced to the Glooms, a very bluish person!

The party finally escapes from the Bogs of the State of Discontentment, board the Wish and continue their journey to Somewhere Else.

Passing through Dreamland, the Wish arrives finally Somewhere Else, where they are introduced to the King and Queen.


____________


Now the Dissatisfied Bug hurried about till he had Berens and all of the other wishers rounded up into one party. "You're to be presented to their Majesties directly after the proceedings," he announced impressively, "and you must all keep together!"

Just as Berens was wondering what in the world "the proceedings" were, several sad-looking individuals were marched out by the King's guard. The King and Queen glared at the poor fellows sternly.

"Bewilder 'em!" commanded the King in a thundering voice.

"Lead 'em astray! Lead 'em astray! called the Queen, with a wave of her silk 'kerchief.

"Don't he mean behead 'em?" whispered Berens hoarsely to Sarah Ann.

"I wonder what they've done?" flustered Sarah Ann anxiously.

"Who contradicts the King?" roared a terrible voice, and the captain of the guards strode toward the two children. Every one promptly faced round and stared at Berens and Sarah Ann till they were ready to sink through the ground with fright. The King's Guard drew nearer and nearer.

"Nonsense!" shouted the Dissatisfied Bug. "Who's contradicting anybody? If a man's beheaded he loses his head, doesn't he? Well, if a man's bewildered he loses his head, too - bewildered and beheaded - one and the same thing. Get out!" and he waved his 17 arms (or was it 19?) so fiercely that the captain of the guards withdrew, muttering something about every one's pardon."

After that Sarah Ann and Berens dared not open their mouths. What happened next was really very interesting. The guards took hold of the prisoners and carefully blindfolded each one with a large bandana handkerchief. Now they began spinning the poor fellows round and round like tops till it made one dizzy just to look at them. Next, with a rude kick, they sent each of them flying into the spectators. Berens decided that it must be a sort of blind man's buff, but he felt very sure that he should not care to play it. The prisoners kept stumbling and tumbling and barking their shins and sprawling over the benches and bystanders, while the King and Queen roared with merriment (which was very unkind of them, I think).

Sarah Ann was nearly bursting with indignation, while the horse fairly snorted with displeasure, but there the Dissatisfied Bug bustled them all forward.

"Some new subjects, your Majesties!" he announced with a low bow.

The King put on his spectacles and eyed the party sharply, while the Queen held up her gold lorgnons.

"Did you come by express?" she asked finally, addressing herself to Berens.

"We came on a wish," replied Berens faintly, for, much to his consternation, the Queen had vanished again.

"Wasn't the wish expressed?" asked the Queen tartly. (Or, at least, this question came from the spot where she had been a moment before.)

"Why, yes," faltered Berens.

"Then it was an expressed wish, stupid!" said the Queen, suddenly appearing again. "An express wish for Somewhere Else!"

Berens said nothing to this for, to tell the truth, he felt a little giddy.

After a short pause, during which the Queen stared at him steadily, she turned to the King. "Call the Prime Minister!" she commanded.

Here the King raised his sceptre and a little, fat, black man came hurrying forward.

Berens thought he could see horns sticking up out of the Prime Minister's hair, but he was not sure of this, so you had better say nothing about it.

"My Minister," said the Queen now, with a wave of her arm at the group, "awaits you! Let me introduce him. SOMETHING ELSE JUS TAS BAD, Prime Minister of Somewhere Else!" she announced grandly. The Prime Minister bowed.

"I'll attend to you first," said he, pointing his fat finger at Berens. Berens stepped forward, Rags till under his arm.

"Not the dog," said Something Else Jus Tas Bad sharply, pushing Rags out of Berens' arms.

"But I can't go without Rags!" wailed Berens in dismay.

The Prime Minister paid no attention to this, but jerked him roughly by the arm. Berens was terribly frightened, but he tried his best not to show it.

"Good-by!" called Sarah Ann, in a quavering voice. "Good-by!"

"Good-by!" called the other wishers sadly.

Rags struggled fiercely in the arms of N. V., who had taken hold of him. "I'll find you wherever you are!" he panted breathlessly.

The Dissatisfied Bug ran a few steps after the two and gravely shook hands with Berens. "I'll see you again!" he whispered hurriedly.

The last Berens saw of him he was roaring with merriment, holding his sides with his 19 arms and swaying backward and forward. The Prime Minister hurried him along so fast that he had scarcely a moment to even think, much less to look about him.

At last they stopped before a tall and imposing house which had a large sign over the door, "Home of Something Else Jus Tas Bad."

The Prime Minister quickly unlocked the door and ushered Berens into a long, dreary hall. At the end of the hall there was a little room. Pushing Berens along ahead of him he entered the room. There was nothing remarkable about this room, except that there was nothing in it (if you want to call that remarkable).

"So you want to be Some One Else!" said the Prime Minister, looking at Berens curiously. "Well" - now he opened a cupboard that Berens had not noticed before. "Here you are, then."

To Berens' astonishment, out stepped another little boy just a trifle smaller than himself. At the same moment the Prime Minister went out of the room, leaving the door open. Berens continued to stare at the little boy open-mouthed. The boy rushed at Berens and rudely snatched off his hat and started to yank at his coat.

"Here, you stop that!" cried Berens, doubling up his fists.

"Why, I'm Some One Else," exclaimed the little boy, pausing in surprise. "We've got to change things, you know," he added in a businesslike manner, at the same time slapping his hat down upon Berens's head.

"Oh, all right," said Berens, who was anxious to begin his adventures.

So the two hastily changed clothes, shoes, stockings and everything, and all the time Berens was growing to look more and more like Some One Else, and Some One Else was growing to look more and more like Berens, till even their own mothers would not have known them.

"Well, I'm off," cried Some One Else, who was Berens, and "I'm off," cried Berens, who was Some One Else.

Berens, who was Some One Else, ran out of the little room, down the gloomy hallway and out of the Prime Minister's house. Then he paused a moment to decide which way he should go.

Up the street there were a great many bright shops, candy and cake and all sorts of fascinating toys displayed in the windows. Down the street were rows and rows of houses all very much alike, so, of course, Berens decided to go up the street! Here a strange thing happened. When he went to step out, Some One Else's shoes jerked him back again. Over and over he tried it, but it was no use. Not one step in the direction of the shops would they budge. If you have never been in Some One Else's shoes you cannot imagine how vexing it was. In a burst of rage, Berens tried to take them off, but the laces straightway tied themselves in 20 knots, which he found it impossible to undo.

"It's no use," said he to himself crossly at last; and, wiping his hot forehead on Some One Else's handkerchief, he stared gloomily up the street. But here the shoes gave a sudden tug and the first thing Berens knew they were rushing off down the street with him so fast that he fairly had to gasp for breath.

"Oh, dear! oh, my!" he jerked out as he was hustled along - in fact, he was very uncomfortable!

Some One Else's hat was too small and was giving him a frightful headache, while Some One Else's shoes, besides being so outrageously obstinate, pinched him wickedly. Clappety, clap, clap, clap, thudded the shoes down the street and finally marched him up the steps of a gray stone house.

"I suppose that I might just as well ring the bell," said Berens in a resigned voice, "or dear knows where these dreadful shoes will take me next."

He pressed the bell and waited anxiously to see what would happen. A tall, thin, cross-looking man, with a newspaper in one hand, opened the door.

"You're late!" he said sternly, glaring at Berens. "What does this mean, sir?" and, seizing him by the collar, he dragged him into the house.

Berens had no breath to answer this question because Some One Else's father shook him violently all the way along the entry. By this time they had reached the dining room, and Berens was pushed with a thump into one of the chairs. Before he could collect his thoughts, Some One Else's mother threw up both her hands.

"Take off your hat!" she shrieked. "Will you never learn any manners?"

Berens hastily pulled off his hat and looked from one to the other, hardly knowing what to do next.

"Where have you been?" asked Some One Else's mother, fixing her sharp eye on him.

"I - I'm not sure, er - er - I don't exactly know," began Berens in an agony of confusion.

"Don't know!" screamed Some One Else's mother.

"Young man," said Some One Else's father in an awful voice, "don't lie! Amanda," he cried, addressing his wife, "you'll oblige by not speaking to him during dinner. I'll see you in the library after dinner," said he, pointing the carving knife at Berens.

Poor Berens wished that the floor might open up and swallow him, but naturally it did nothing of the kind. Indeed, the worst was yet to come. The dinner consisted of tripe and lentils, both of which Berens heartily detested. Under the stern eyes of Some One Else's father and mother, however, he choked them down in silence, too frightened and uncomfortable to make any objections. Some One Else's father and mother talked all through the meal, but paid not the slightest attention to him. A large cherry pie was brought in for dessert and Berens cheered up at sight of this, But Some One Else's father helped himself and wife generously, then remarked in an acid voice that "little boys who told stories did not get any pie." Poor Berens! Between longing for the pie and wondering what would happen in the library, he was utterly wretched.

But suddenly the bell rang and Some One Else's father was called out on business. While Some One Else's mother was seeing him off, Berens seized his hat and slipped out the back door. Luckily for him, the shoes decided to go this time. All afternoon he wandered aimlessly about the streets of Somewhere Else - Some One Else's shoes going where he wanted to go at one time and where he did not want to go at others.

It was very strange, but when he was walking on one side of the street, the things on the other side always seemed more inviting. The candy and cakes looked sweeter, the houses more spacious - everything seemed nicer. Yet, when he crossed over he was usually disappointed to find that the candy was full of specks and dust and the houses no better than on the side he had just left.

Thrusting his hand into Some One Else's pocket, he was delighted to find 10 cents. A sign at the corner of the street where he happened to be just then read "Strawberry shortcake today!" So he ran with all speed to purchase some. The woman in the shop handed him a crumbly piece of cake and greedily pocketed his 10 cents.

"But where are the strawberries?" asked Berens, dismally holding the cake up to the light - and, indeed, my dears, there was not a sign of a strawberry to be seen in it.

"You asked for strawberry SHORT cake, didn't you?" snapped the woman disagreeably. "Well, there's the cake and the strawberries are short, so of course, it's strawberry shortcake!"

Banging the cash drawer, the woman disappeared into a room back of the shop and there was nothing for Berens to do but take the crumbly cake and make the best of it. That's the way it was with everything and altogether Somewhere Else proved disappointing and horrid.

In Some One Else's other pocket Berens found a dilapidated top. Just as he had half-heartedly started in to spin it along came a great husky boy.

"Gimme my top!" cried the boy, doubling up his fists.

Now, how was Berens to know that Some One Else had stolen this boy's top? At any rate, he paid no attention to the boy and the next thing that happened was decidedly unpleasant - decidedly unpleasant for him. For the boy - well, I'll let you guess what he did. He got his top. Berens picked himself up slowly; he didn't cry, though! (I should say not), but somehow Somewhere Else did not seem beautiful any more.

Walking dejectedly down one of the wide streets, he suddenly caught sight of a little girl marching stiffly along under a fluffy parasol. She had bobbing, yellow curls and was dressed in a very frilly white dress with a pink sash. Berens felt really very naughty at this minute. Perhaps it was the ache that he was carrying around in Some One Else's shoes that made him do it, but, however that may be, he rushed up back of her and pushed her violently into the gutter. (I know it was awful of him.)

"Prig!" he hissed.

Up jumped the little yellow-haired girl and instead of shrieking for her mama, as Berens had fully expected her to do, she swung her parasol round her head and brought it down with a terrific thwack upon his head.

"There!" she shrilled angrily, "and there! and there and there!" Each "there" was emphasized by a thump with the parasol, which by now was broken to bits.

"Whew!" gasped Berens, too surprised to defend himself.

At the fourth "there!" he managed to cry out "Stop!" for, to tell the truth, the parasol had knocked a brilliant idea into his head.

"Didn't you used to be Sarah Ann?" he asked eagerly.

The little girl dropped the parasol and sank limply upon the curbstone. "Yes," she said faintly and two big tears rolled slowly down her cheeks and splashed upon the pink sash.

"Well, I'm Some One Else, but I used to be Berens," explained Berens hastily.


Read the rest of the story in
THE WISH EXPRESS
by Ruth Plumly Thompson

The Wish Express Cover
(To be continued.)


THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, July 29, 1917

Puzzles

Funny how you can all make out the Forgetful Poet's nonsense and I'm sorry not to have some more for you this week, but the dear fellow has come down with the mumps, and as he says himself, "Mumps and poetry don't go together!"

Mr. G. Ography just happened in, fortunately, so we'll not be entirely without puzzles. As the Forgetful Poet would not help him he just put them in plain prose:

What city could a bottler use to advantage?
Part of an apple and the fifth and first letters in the alphabet will equal what country?
What country terminates in a cooking utensil?
What country ends with a slam?
What city has the name of a fairy man?
What two countries are here - Cy am Chilly?
And that is enough I think for today.

By the way, I forgot to tell you the answer to the two little puzzles. It was a road that had a fork and ran without speed and to get one letter one must write two.

[Answers next time.]



Copyright © 2004 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, September 1, 2004

MARVELOUS TRAVELS ON A WISH, Part Four

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of The Purple Prince of Oz, "The Wizard of Pumperdink", "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, August 20 and 27, 1916.

[Ruth Plumly Thompson's Marvelous Travels on a Wish was serialized in the Philadelphia Public Ledger for thirteen Sundays in 1916, the longest of Thompson's serials to appear on the Ledger's "For Boys and Girls" page. A heavily abridged version was later published in Thompson's 1929 anthology The Wonder Book. Hungry Tiger Press is proud to present this little-known fantasy in six installments. Typographical errors have been corrected and paragraph divisions have been brought into line with standard usage.]


Synopsis, or What Happened Before

Berens, a little boy who is tired of his home, wishes himself Somewhere Else. He and his little dog, Rags, are bitten by the Dissatisfied Bug, who whirls them through the clouds and aboard a wish, which is somewhat like a trolley car. The wish is full of dissatisfied folks, also bound for Somewhere Else. There are an elephant, a donkey, a farmer's boy, a horse, a little old lady, a little old gentleman, a red-headed little girl, a serving maid and a poet on board. Just as Berens had managed to get a seat a terrible-looking creature came to collect the fares.

It was Envy, the conductor of the wish, and each passenger stole something from his neighbor to pay Envy his fare. Stuffing the articles into his hat, Envy retires, announcing that the next station will be TALKTOWN. As the wish rushes on its way Berens and Sarah Ann, the little red-headed girl, become great friends. Sarah Ann explains that she is going to be a beautiful little girl without freckles when she arrives Somewhere Else.

Talktown is a frightful place. The members of the party have some narrow escapes, and Rags and Berens are buried under a falling house.

Here they meet the "I'm a goin' tos" - who are always "going to do" great things. Aboard the wish once more, the passengers all tell what they are going to be when they reach Somewhere Else.

Just as Berens is about to tell what he will be, the wish stops at the Abode of Discontentment, where people carry umbrellas so as not to see the sun. Berens is introduced to the Glooms, a very bluish person!


____________


"Always cross bridges before you come to 'em!" cried the little imp, and seizing Berens and Rags, he rushed them over the bridge before they had come to it - and how that was done is a secret - so I cannot tell you.

"Now," said the little imp, argumentatively wagging his skinny finger, "you think divisions are hard; well, just you wait till you come to algebra and mensuration and logarithms and geometry and trigonometry - why, you've got books and books and books of 'em to go through with!"

"Oh, dear!" sighed Berens gloomily, "I'll never be able to do it!

"Never in the world!" chuckled the little imp. "And you," said he, waving his tail at Rags, "have at least two million hairs--well, youre liable to lose 'em, you know, each and every one of them may come out any time!"

"What!" barked Rags, sitting down suddenly. "Why, then I'll be bald--b--ald!" he finished with a sob.

"That's right, BALD!" said the little imp.

Berens was sitting on a hard stone, saying in a depressed voice. "No, I'll never be able to do them--never, never, never!"

"Bald! bald! bald!" groaned Rags dejectedly.

"Oh, by the way," said the little imp, "let me give you my card," and bounding into the air he scratched two sharp lines between Berens' eyes, repeating the performance with Rags. "My name," said he, with a low bow, "is Wu Ree. I'll see you again."

In a moment he had vanished, leaving the two staring stupidly at each other and absently rubbing their foreheads. Then they got up slowly and walked on for a time in silence.

Now a turn in the road brought Berens and Rags to a great muddy swamp. Neither of them noticed how very muddy it was, for in about the middle they spied all the passengers of the wish.

"Hi! hi!" screamed Berens, dashing in without thinking.

"Wait! cried Rags, jumping in excitedly after him.

"Why, hello!" called the Dissatisfied Bug, waving its 17 arms genially. "Hello, there! the more the merrier, you know."

Berens started to wave, but just then lost his shoe in the mud, and when he had pulled out one, the other had stuck.

"I told you there were bogs!" growled Rags irritably, as his feet sank in the slippery ooze.

Oh, it was awful! Berens could see now that the others were having just as bad a time of it. The elephant, balancing himself frantically with his trunk, was floundering along like a ferryboat in a fog. The little old lady was squealing dismally, while the poet looked very blue indeed. In fact, just how disagreeable a time they were having of it you can never realize till you yourself have been stuck in the bogs in the State of Discontentment. The only ones who did not seem to mind it were N. V. and the Dissatisfied Bug. They were hugging each other exuberantly and capering along in a mad and merry dance. At last, Berens, by taking off his shoes, managed to catch up with the party.

"Most unpleasant State! most unpleasant State!" blustered the elephant, helping Berens along with his trunk.

"A frightful State! a terrible State! a horrible State of Mind!" chanted the Dissatisfied Bug, taking the first three steps of the Virginia reel.

"An awful State! a hideous State--but a State that you're sure to find," boomed N. V., in a deep bass, bowing low to the Dissatisfied Bug.

This set the poet off--

"The bogs are muddy, the bogs are wet, Cheer up, poor feet; you'll get there yet,"


he chanted dolefully, dragging his long feet through the mire.

"I don't mind telling you that this is highly distasteful to me," said the little man who was going to be King, in a complaining voice.

"You're very blue," said Sarah Ann. "Oh, very blue."

"You needn't talk," said Berens, splashing along sulkily. "You're as blue as bluing yourself, Sarah Ann."

Here the whole party began quarreling and fussing and there is no telling how far matters would have gone had not the Dissatisfied Bug suddenly looked at his watch.

"Upon my shoe laces," exploded the Bug, "we must hurry," and catching hold of them with his 17 arms he hustled them unceremoniously across the swamp.

On the edge of the bog the wish stood waiting and quickly he shoved the party aboard. "Good-by, sweet State," he trilled with a wave of his arm.

"Home, sweet home," murmured N. V., as he shuffled back on the platform.

"Here we go," neighed the horse, hanging his head out of the window.

Again the wish was under way.

"Now," said the horse, drawing his head slowly in through the window, "tell us what you're going to be when you get Somewhere Else."

"Tell us, tell us!" cried Sarah Ann, and all the passengers looked expectantly at Berens.

"Well," said Berens deliberately, "when I get Somewhere Else I'm going to be some one else."

"Dear me, dear me!" cried the old lady, throwing up her hands.

"Risky, terribly risky," said the horse gravely, shaking his head.

" 'Ow do you know you'll like it?" inquired the Farmer's Boy.

" 'Course he'll like it," said Sarah Ann indignantly. "Why, it will be perfectly splendid. It will be a surprise," she added enthusiastically.

Here the whole party fell into quite a discussion about "some one else."

"They're awfully stupid," whispered Sarah Ann to Berens. "Let's look out of the window."

So the two children climbed upon their knees and looked curiously out of the wish window. They were passing through a wonderful country. The sky was streaked with gorgeous rainbows and speckled with fluffy pink clouds. There was a pink haze over all the fields and hills. In the distance they could see the ocean rippling like molten gold in the sunlight.

"Look at the ships!" called Berens in delight.

"Oh!" cried Sarah Ann, drawing in her breath sharply.

On the rim of the sea a whole fleet of fairy vessels billowed gently up and down on the swells. Oh, but they were the most splendid ships, with richly carven prows and gay silken sails! A great company of people were gathered upon the beach watching the ships with huge telescopes.

"I wonder what those people are doing," murmured Berens half aloud.

"Waiting for their ships to come in," said the poet quietly. He had been looking out of the window for some time, but the children had not noticed him before.

"Will they come in soon?" asked Sarah Ann, in an interested tone.

"I'm afraid not," said the poet sadly, shaking his head.. "You see, there's no breeze."

"Then they're becalmed!" said Berens knowingly. "What's the name of this place?"

"Why, this is Dreamland," replied the poet. "I thought every one knew that."

"Look! Look!" cried Sarah Ann, leaning out of the window excitedly.

The wish was rushing past a great number of gorgeous castles. There were by no means of the kind you have seen in your history books. No, indeed! There were of a fairy kind, all wondrously misty and magic, with a thousand rooms, perhaps. Strangest of all, they did not rest upon the ground, but floated lightly in the air. 'Neath each one a girl or boy lay dreaming. But no sooner would they waken and try to enter their castle before it would come tumbling down in a million glittering atoms.

"Oh, my!" said Sarah Ann, after witnessing several mishaps of this nature. "What's the mater with 'em?"

"They're built from the top down," said the poet, "instead of from the bottom up--they haven't any foundations, you see."

"Well, if I had one," said Berens, "I'd get an air--"

"Next stop Somewhere Else!" croaked the Dissatisfied Bug, thrusting its head in the door.

Berens and Sarah Ann hastily slid down into their seats.

"Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted Berens, waving his hat.

"No more freckles!" shrieked Sarah Ann. "No more red hair. Oh, now I'll be Florabell Elizabeth!"

The confusion was terrible; some said this and some said that, but each said it louder than the other.

"Oh, fame! Oh, fame!" cried the poet and began racing wildly up and down the wish, while the little old lady hysterically threw her arms about the donkey's neck.

"I'll soon be kinging it," thundered the little old gentleman, bringing his cane down with a thump upon the elephant's truck, at which the elephant awoke and began trumpeting like a brass band.

"Who--o! Gee! Git up!" cried the horse, violently blowing his nose. "That's the way I'll manage 'em when I'm driving!" he explained to the company, who paid not the slightest attention.

Berens and Sarah had seized hands and were spinning round like tops.

"Somewhere Else! Somewhere Else!" shouted all of them at once, till the uproar was frightful. Indeed, you would have thought they had taken leave of their senses. But right in the midst of it, right in the very midst of it, I say, the Dissatisfied Bug burst pen the door of the wish with a flourish and snatching off his cap with I forget which of his 17 arms, waved it rough his head calling: "Somewhere Else! Somewhere Else!"

"Somewhere Else! Somewhere Else!" bawled N. V. from the other end of the wish.

"Oh! Oh!"

"At last!"

"At last!"

"Somewhere Else!

"We're here!" screamed the passengers, and making a wild dash, plunged head over hoofs, over trunks, over heels from the wish. Hastily they untangled themselves.

"O--ooh!" gasped Berens, who was the first to emerge from the tangle, and "O--ooh!" gasped Sarah Ann, her eyes big as saucers. In fact, the whole party could do nothing but stare.

Below, the glittering spires of the city of Somewhere Else swam in a haze of purple splendor. It seemed to Berens the most wonderful city on the world. A stately palace with a hundred gold towers rose in the centre. Crystal fountains gushed coolly in the countless flowering gardens. All of the buildings glowed and shimmered in a silver mist.

"Well!" said the Dissatisfied Bug, rudely breaking the silence that had fallen upon the company, "have you done staring? If you have, I'll just lead the way down."

Without waiting for a reply he threw his many arms around N. V.'s neck and the two went rollicking off together. Berens tucked Rags under one arm and ran quickly after the two, followed by the other wishers, all of them still a bit dazed. They soon had come to the wonderful city itself and were walking slowly through its marble streets. A great many gayly dressed men and women were lined up upon the pavements as if for some sort of a procession.

"I wish they wouldn't stare so!" whispered Sarah Ann to Berens.

Just then a loud shout went up from the populace. The Dissatisfied Bug and N. V. hastily scrambled upon the sidewalk and motioned for the others to do the same. There was a good bit of grumbling because the elephant took up so much room, but he obligingly set the grumblers upon his back and immediately peace was restored. Every one was gazing in the direction of the royal palace. Now the golden gates were flung open. There was a loud burst of music and out rode the most dazzling company of silken-clad courtiers that Berens had ever seen. (In fact, they were the first he had seen at all outside of his fairy-tale books, so he was very much impressed.)

"The King! The King! The Queen! The Queen! shouted the populace, waving their hats and handkerchiefs in a frenzy of excitement.

Berens and Sarah Ann nearly tumbled upon their noses in an effort to see all that was to be seen, while the elephant became so agitated by the noise and confusion that he whisked up a little man from the sidewalk and began waving him wildly, in lieu of a handkerchief, I presume.

Following the gay courtiers came a gorgeous golden coach, drawn by 20 white horses. In it sat the King and Queen of Somewhere Else, bowing graciously to the right and left. As they passed everybody fell upon his knees except the elephant, who fell upon his trunk. )This was a serious breach of etiquette.)

Berens had fallen upon his knees along with the rest of them, much to the disgust of Rags. "I'll not bow!" he snapped crossly from under Berens' arm. "I detest this bow-wowing!"

"Hurrah for ILL! Three cheers for DE!" shouted a little man kneeling beside Berens.

"Hurrah for ILL! Three cheers for DE!" roared the crowd.

Berens had been looking curiously at the King and Queen and really they were a simply stunning pair in their diamond crowns and purple robes. Indeed, I wish you all might have seen them. But once or twice while Berens was looking at them they disappeared--crowns, cloaks, smiles and all! Yet when he rubbed his eyes and looked again there they were, nodding and bowing and smiling as blandly as ever, till he finally came to the conclusion that he must have been mistaken.

"Who's Ill?" he asked, nudging the little man next to him.

"Oh, hush!" cried the little man, looking about anxiously. "Do you want to be BEWILDERED? It's the Queen's name," he added in a low tone. "Illusion, you know, and De is the King's name. Oh, three cheers for ILLUSION AND DELUSION, King and Queen of Somewhere Else!" shrilled the little man hoarsely.


Read the rest of the story in
THE WISH EXPRESS
by Ruth Plumly Thompson

The Wish Express Cover
(To be continued.)
 
 
THE FORGETFUL POET
By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, July 22, 1917

Puzzle Corner

The answers to last week's puzzle were corn and peas, and the Forgetful Poet has sent you another of his comical verses. The dear chap seems to be at the shore and I trust you can puzzle out his meaning. But first he wants to ask you two questions. This is the first:

How do you get a letter? and
What has a fork
And does not eat?
What runs and runs
Yet is not fleet?

By the Sea!

To plunge into the briny sand
Or sit upon the glistening wave,
I do adore - it seems to me
There is no other thing so grand.

To watch the clouds break on the beach,
The white waves drifting high;
To see the seagulls sportive play
And watch the porpoise fly!

The children happy all day long,
Sail buckets by the sea,
Dig with their box-kites in the sand,
Yes, 'tis the place for me!

[Answers next time.]



Copyright © 2004 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.