Saturday, August 1, 2009

OZMA'S BIRTHDAY PARTY from THE ROAD TO OZ

By L. Frank Baum
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Secret of the Lost Fortune, The Visitors from Oz, etc.

In celebration of the 100th anniversary of L. Frank Baum's 1909 Oz book, The Road to Oz, Hungry Tiger Press is proud to present the last several chapters of that book which detail the glorious birthday celebration of Ozma, ruler of Oz, on August 21.



Dorothy Receives the Guests

Next morning Dorothy's breakfast was served in her own pretty sitting room, and she sent to invite Polly and the shaggy man to join her and Button-Bright at the meal. They came gladly, and Toto also had breakfast with them, so that the little party that had traveled together to Oz was once more reunited.

No sooner had they finished eating than they heard the distant blast of many trumpets, and the sound of a brass band playing martial music; so they all went out upon the balcony. This was at the front of the palace and overlooked the streets of the City, being higher than the wall that shut in the palace grounds. They saw approaching down the street a band of musicians, playing as hard and loud as they could, while the people of the Emerald City crowded the sidewalks and cheered so lustily that they almost drowned the noise of the drums and horns.

Dorothy looked to see what they were cheering at, and discovered that behind the band was the famous Scarecrow, riding proudly upon the back of a wooden Saw-Horse which pranced along the street almost as gracefully as if it had been made of flesh. Its hoofs, or rather the ends of its wooden legs, were shod with plates of solid gold, and the saddle strapped to the wooden body was richly embroidered and glistened with jewels.

As he reached the palace the Scarecrow looked up and saw Dorothy, and at once waved his peaked hat at her in greeting. He rode up to the front door and dismounted, and the band stopped playing and went away and the crowds of people returned to their dwellings.

By the time Dorothy and her friends had re-entered her room, the Scarecrow was there, and he gave the girl a hearty embrace and shook the hands of the others with his own squashy hands, which were white gloves filled with straw.

The shaggy man, Button-Bright, and Polychrome stared hard at this celebrated person, who was acknowledged to be the most popular and most beloved man in all the Land of Oz.

"Why, your face has been newly painted!" exclaimed Dorothy, when the first greetings were over.

"I had it touched up a bit by the Munchkin farmer who first made me," answered the Scarecrow, pleasantly. "My complexion had become a bit grey and faded, you know, and the paint had peeled off one end of my mouth, so I couldn't talk quite straight. Now I feel like myself again, and I may say without immodesty that my body is stuffed with the loveliest oat-straw in all Oz." He pushed against his chest. "Hear me crunkle?" he asked.

"Yes," said Dorothy; "you sound fine."

Button-Bright was wonderfully attracted by the strawman, and so was Polly. The shaggy man treated him with great respect, because he was so queerly made.

Jellia Jamb now came to say that Ozma wanted Princess Dorothy to receive the invited guests in the Throne-Room, as they arrived. The Ruler was herself busy ordering the preparations for the morrow's festivities, so she wished her friend to act in her place.

Dorothy willingly agreed, being the only other Princess in the Emerald City; so she went to the great Throne-Room and sat in Ozma's seat, placing Polly on one side of her and Button-Bright on the other. The Scarecrow stood at the left of the throne and the Tin Woodman at the right, while the Wonderful Wizard and the shaggy man stood behind.

The Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger came in, with bright new bows of ribbon on their collars and tails. After greeting Dorothy affectionately the huge beasts lay down at the foot of the throne.

While they waited, the Scarecrow, who was near the little boy, asked:

"Why are you called Button-Bright?"

"Don't know," was the answer.

"Oh yes, you do, dear," said Dorothy. "Tell the Scarecrow how you got your name."

"Papa always said I was bright as a button, so mama always called me Button-Bright," announced the boy.

"Where is your mama?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Don't know," said Button-Bright.

"Where is your home?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Don't know," said Button-Bright.

"Don't you want to find your mama again?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Don't know," said Button-Bright, calmly.

The Scarecrow looked thoughtful.

"Your papa may have been right," he observed; "but there are many kinds of buttons, you see. There are silver and gold buttons, which are highly polished and glitter brightly. There are pearl and rubber buttons, and other kinds, with surfaces more or less bright. But there is still another sort of button which is covered with dull cloth, and that must be the sort your papa meant when he said you were bright as a button. Don't you think so?"

"Don't know," said Button-Bright.

Jack Pumpkinhead arrived, wearing a pair of new, white kid gloves; and he brought a birthday present for Ozma consisting of a necklace of pumpkin-seeds. In each seed was set a sparkling carolite, which is considered the rarest and most beautiful gem that exists. The necklace was in a plush case and Jellia Jamb put it on a table with the Princess Ozma's other presents.

Next came a tall, beautiful woman clothed in a splendid trailing gown, trimmed with exquisite lace as fine as cobweb. This was the important Sorceress known as Glinda the Good, who had been of great assistance to both Ozma and Dorothy. There was no humbug about her magic, you may be sure, and Glinda was as kind as she was powerful. She greeted Dorothy most lovingly, and kissed Button-Bright and Polly, and smiled upon the shaggy man, after which Jellia Jamb led the Sorceress to one of the most magnificent rooms of the royal palace and appointed fifty servants to wait upon her.

The next arrival was Mr. H. M. Woggle-Bug, T.E.; the "H. M." meaning Highly Magnified and the "T.E." meaning Thoroughly Educated. The Woggle-Bug was head professor at the Royal College of Oz, and he had composed a fine Ode in honor of Ozma's birthday. This he wanted to read to them; but the Scarecrow wouldn't let him.

Soon they heard a clucking sound and a chorus of "cheep! cheep!" and a servant threw open the door to allow Billina and her ten fluffy chicks to enter the Throne-Room. As the Yellow Hen marched proudly at the head of her family, Dorothy cried, "Oh, you lovely things!" and ran down from her seat to pet the little yellow downy balls. Billina wore a pearl necklace, and around the neck of each chicken was a tiny gold chain holding a locket with the letter "D" engraved upon the outside.

"Open the lockets, Dorothy," said Billina. The girl obeyed and found a picture of herself in each locket. "They were named after you, my dear," continued the Yellow Hen, "so I wanted all my chickens to wear your picture. Cluck--cluck! come here, Dorothy--this minute!" she cried, for the chickens were scattered and wandering all around the big room.

They obeyed the call at once, and came running as fast as they could, fluttering their fluffy wings in a laughable way.

It was lucky that Billina gathered the little ones under her soft breast just then, for Tik-tok came in and tramped up to the throne on his flat copper feet.

"I am all wound up and work-ing fine-ly," said the clock-work man to Dorothy.

"I can hear him tick," declared Button-Bright.

"You are quite the polished gentleman," said the Tin Woodman. "Stand up here beside the shaggy man, Tik-tok, and help receive the company."

Dorothy placed soft cushions in a corner for Billina and her chicks, and had just returned to the Throne and seated herself when the playing of the royal band outside the palace announced the approach of distinguished guests.

And my, how they did stare when the High Chamberlain threw open the doors and the visitors entered the Throne-Room!

First walked a gingerbread man neatly formed and baked to a lovely brown tint. He wore a silk hat and carried a candy cane prettily striped with red and yellow. His shirt-front and cuffs were white frosting, and the buttons on his coat were licorice drops.

Behind the gingerbread man came a child with flaxen hair and merry blue eyes, dressed in white pajamas, with sandals on the soles of its pretty bare feet. The child looked around smiling and thrust its hands into the pockets of the pajamas. Close after it came a big rubber bear, walking erect on its hind feet. The bear had twinkling black eyes, and its body looked as if it had been pumped full of air.

Following these curious visitors were two tall, thin men and two short, fat men, all four dressed in gorgeous uniforms.

Ozma's High Chamberlain now hurried forward to announce the names of the new arrivals, calling out in a loud voice:

"His Gracious and Most Edible Majesty, King Dough the First, Ruler of the Two Kingdoms of Hiland and Loland. Also the Head Boolywag of his Majesty, known as Chick the Cherub, and their faithful friend Para Bruin, the rubber bear."

These great personages bowed low as their names were called, and Dorothy hastened to introduce them to the assembled company. They were the first foreign arrivals, and the friends of Princess Ozma were polite to them and tried to make them feel that they were welcome.

Chick the Cherub shook hands with every one, including Billina, and was so joyous and frank and full of good spirits that John Dough's Head Booleywag at once became a prime favorite.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" whispered Dorothy.

"Don't know," said Button-Bright.

"Goodness me! what a queer lot of people you are," exclaimed the rubber bear, looking at the assembled company.

"So're you," said Button-Bright, gravely. "Is King Dough good to eat?"

"He's too good to eat," laughed Chick the Cherub.

"I hope none of you are fond of gingerbread," said the King, rather anxiously.

"We should never think of eating our visitors, if we were," declared the Scarecrow; "so please do not worry, for you will be perfectly safe while you remain in Oz."

"Why do they call you Chick?" the Yellow Hen asked the child.

"Because I'm an Incubator Baby, and never had any parents," replied the Head Booleywag.

"My chicks have a parent, and I'm it," said Billina.

"I'm glad of that," answered the Cherub, "because they'll have more fun worrying you than if they were brought up in an Incubator. The Incubator never worries, you know."

King John Dough had brought for Ozma's birthday present a lovely gingerbread crown, with rows of small pearls around it and a fine big pearl in each of its five points. After this had been received by Dorothy with proper thanks and placed on the table with the other presents, the visitors from Hiland and Loland were escorted to their rooms by the High Chamberlain.

They had no sooner departed than the band before the palace began to play again, announcing more arrivals, and as these were doubtless from foreign parts the High Chamberlain hurried back to receive them in his most official manner.


Important Arrivals

First entered a band of Ryls from the Happy Valley, all merry little sprites like fairy elves. A dozen crooked Knooks followed from the great Forest of Burzee. They had long whiskers and pointed caps and curling toes, yet were no taller than Button-Bright"s shoulder. With this group came a man so easy to recognize and so important and dearly beloved throughout the known world, that all present rose to their feet and bowed their heads in respectful homage, even before the High Chamberlain knelt to announce his name.

"The most Mighty and Loyal Friend of Children, His Supreme Highness--Santa Claus!" said the Chamberlain, in an awed voice.

"Well, well, well! Glad to see you--glad to meet you all!" cried Santa Claus, briskly, as he trotted up the long room.

He was round as an apple, with a fresh rosy face, laughing eyes, and a bushy beard as white as snow. A red cloak trimmed with beautiful ermine hung from his shoulders and upon his back was a basket filled with pretty presents for the Princess Ozma.

"Hello, Dorothy; still having adventures?" he asked in his jolly way, as he took the girl's hand in both his own.

"How did you know my name, Santa?" she replied, feeling more shy in the presence of this immortal saint than she ever had before in her young life.

"Why, don't I see you every Christmas Eve, when you're asleep?" he rejoined, pinching her blushing cheek.

"Oh, do you?"

"And here's Button-Bright, I declare!" cried Santa Claus, holding up the boy to kiss him. "What a long way from home you are; dear me!"

"Do you know Button-Bright, too?" questioned Dorothy, eagerly.

"Indeed I do. I"ve visited his home several Christmas Eves."

"And do you know his father?" asked the girl.

"Certainly, my dear. Who else do you suppose brings him his Christmas neckties and stockings?" with a sly wink at the Wizard.

"Then where does he live? We're just crazy to know, 'cause Button-Bright's lost," she said.

Santa laughed and laid his finger aside of his nose as if thinking what to reply. He leaned over and whispered something in the Wizard's ear, at which the Wizard smiled and nodded as if he understood.

Now Santa Claus spied Polychrome, and trotted over to where she stood.

"Seems to me the Rainbow's Daughter is farther from home than any of you," he observed, looking at the pretty maiden admiringly. "I'll have to tell your father where you are, Polly, and send him to get you."

"Please do, dear Santa Claus," implored the little maid, beseechingly.

"But just now we must all have a jolly good time at Ozma's party," said the old gentleman, turning to put his presents on the table with the others already there. "It isn't often I find time to leave my castle, as you know; but Ozma invited me and I just couldn't help coming to celebrate the happy occasion."

"I'm so glad!" exclaimed Dorothy.

"These are my Ryls," pointing to the little sprites squatting around him. "Their business is to paint the colors of the flowers when they bud and bloom; but I brought the merry fellows along to see Oz, and they've left their paint-pots behind them. Also I brought these crooked Knooks, whom I love. My dears, the Knooks are much nicer than they look, for their duty is to water and care for the young trees of the forest, and they do their work faithfully and well. It's hard work, though, and it makes my Knooks crooked and gnarled, like the trees themselves; but their hearts are big and kind, as are the hearts of all who do good in our beautiful world."

"Ive read of the Ryls and Knooks," said Dorothy, looking upon these little workers with interest.

Santa Claus turned to talk with the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, and he also said a kind word to the shaggy man, and afterward went away to ride the Saw-Horse around the Emerald City. "For," said he, "I must see all the grand sights while I am here and have the chance, and Ozma has promised to let me ride the Saw-Horse because I'm getting fat and short of breath."

"Where are your reindeer?" asked Polychrome.

"I left them at home, for it is too warm for them in this sunny country," he answered. "They're used to winter weather when they travel."

In a flash he was gone, and the Ryls and Knooks with him; but they could all hear the golden hoofs of the Saw-Horse ringing on the marble pavement outside, as he pranced away with his noble rider.

Presently the band played again, and the High Chamberlain announced:

"Her Gracious Majesty, the Queen of Merryland."

They looked earnestly to discover whom this queen might be, and saw advancing up the room an exquisite wax doll dressed in dainty fluffs and ruffles and spangled gown. She was almost as big as Button-Bright, and her cheeks and mouth and eyebrow were prettily painted in delicate colors. Her blue eyes stared a bit, being of glass, yet the expression upon her Majesty's face was quite pleasant and decidedly winning. With the Queen of Merryland were four wooden soldiers, two stalking ahead of her with much dignity and two following behind, like a royal bodyguard. The soldiers were painted in bright colors and carried wooden guns, and after them came a fat little man who attracted attention at once, although he seemed modest and retiring. For he was made of candy, and carried a tin sugar-sifter filled with powdered sugar, with which he dusted himself frequently so that he wouldn't stick to things if he touched them. The High Chamberlain had called him "The Candy Man of Merryland," and Dorothy saw that one of his thumbs looked as if it had been bitten off by some one who was fond of candy and couldn't resist the temptation.

The wax doll Queen spoke prettily to Dorothy and the others, and sent her loving greetings to Ozma before she retired to the rooms prepared for her. She had brought a birthday present wrapped in tissue paper and tied with pink and blue ribbons, and one of the wooden soldiers placed it on the table with the other gifts. But the Candy Man did not go to his room, because he said he preferred to stay and talk with the Scarecrow and Tik-tok and the Wizard and Tin Woodman, whom he declared the queerest people he had ever met. Button-Bright was glad the Candy Man stayed in the Throne Room, because the boy thought this guest smelled deliciously of wintergreen and maple sugar.

The Braided Man now entered the room, having been fortunate enough to receive an invitation to the Princess Ozma's party. He was from a cave halfway between the Invisible Valley and the Country of the Gargoyles, and his hair and whiskers were so long that he was obliged to plait them into many braids that hung to his feet, and every braid was tied with a bow of colored ribbon.

"I've brought Princess Ozma a box of flutters for her birthday," said the Braided Man, earnestly; "and I hope she will like them, for they are the finest quality I have ever made."

"I'm sure she will be greatly pleased," said Dorothy, who remembered the Braided Man well; and the Wizard introduced the guest to the rest of the company and made him sit down in a chair and keep quiet, for, if allowed, he would talk continually about his flutters.

The band then played a welcome to another set of guests, and into the Throne-Room swept the handsome and stately Queen of Ev. Beside her was young King Evardo, and following them came the entire royal family of five Princesses and four Princes of Ev. The Kingdom of Ev lay just across the Deadly Desert to the North of Oz, and once Ozma and her people had rescued the Queen of Ev and her ten children from the Nome King, who had enslaved them. Dorothy had been present on this adventure, so she greeted the royal family cordially; and all the visitors were delighted to meet the little Kansas girl again. They knew Tik-tok and Billina, too, and the Scarecrow and Tin Woodman, as well as the Lion and Tiger; so there was a joyful reunion, as you may imagine, and it was fully an hour before the Queen and her train retired to their rooms. Perhaps they would not have gone then had not the band begun to play to announce new arrivals; but before they left the great Throne-Room King Evardo added to Ozma's birthday presents a diadem of diamonds set in radium.

The next comer proved to be King Renard of Foxville; or King Dox, as he preferred to be called. He was magnificently dressed in a new feather costume and wore white kid mittens over his paws and a flower in his button-hole and had his hair parted in the middle.

King Dox thanked Dorothy fervently for getting him the invitation to come to Oz, which he all his life longed to visit. He strutted around rather absurdly as he was introduced to all the famous people assembled in the Throne-Room, and when he learned that Dorothy was a Princess of Oz the Fox King insisted on kneeling at her feet and afterward retired backward--a dangerous thing to do, as he might have stubbed his paw and tumbled over.

No sooner was he gone than the blasts of bugles and clatter of drums and cymbals announced important visitors, and the High Chamberlain assumed his most dignified tone as he threw open the door and said proudly:

"Her Sublime and Resplendent Majesty, Queen Zixi of Ix! His Serene and Tremendous Majesty, King Bud of Noland. Her Royal Highness, the Princess Fluff."

That three such high and mighty royal personages should arrive at once was enough to make Dorothy and her companions grow solemn and assume their best company manners; but when the exquisite beauty of Queen Zixi met their eyes they thought they had never beheld anything so charming. Dorothy decided that Zixi must be about sixteen years old, but the Wizard whispered to her that this wonderful queen had lived thousands of years, but knew the secret of remaining always fresh and beautiful.

King Bud of Noland and his dainty fair-haired sister, the Princess Fluff, were friends of Zixi, as their kingdoms were adjoining, so they had traveled together from their far-off domains to do honor to Ozma of Oz on the occasion of her birthday. They brought many splendid gifts; so the table was now fairly loaded down with presents.

Dorothy and Polly loved the Princess Fluff the moment they saw her, and little King Bud was so frank and boyish that Button-Bright accepted him as a chum at once and did not want him to go away. But it was after noon now, and the royal guests must prepare their toilets for the grand banquet at which they were to assemble that evening to meet the reigning Princess of this Fairyland; so Queen Zixi was shown to her room by a troop of maidens led by Jellia Jamb, and Bud and Fluff presently withdrew to their own apartments.

"My! what a big party Ozma is going to have," exclaimed Dorothy. "I guess the palace will be chock full, Button-Bright; don't you think so?"

"Don't know," said the boy.

"But we must go to our rooms, pretty soon, to dress for the banquet," continued the girl.

"I don't have to dress," said the Candy Man from Merryland. "All I need do is to dust myself with fresh sugar."

"Tik-tok always wears the same suits of clothes," said the Tin Woodman; "and so does our friend the Scarecrow."

"My feathers are good enough for any occasion," cried Billina, from her corner.

"Then I shall leave you four to welcome any new guests that come," said Dorothy; "for Button-Bright and I must look our very best at Ozma's banquet."

"Who is still to come?" asked the Scarecrow.

"Well, there's King Kik-a-bray of Dunkiton, and Johnny Dooit, and the Good Witch of the North. But Johnny Dooit may not get here until late, he's so very busy."

"We will receive them and give them a proper welcome," promised the Scarecrow. "So run along, little Dorothy, and get yourself dressed."


The Grand Banquet

I wish I could tell you how fine the company was that assembled that evening at Ozma's royal banquet. A long table was spread in the center of the great dining-hall of the palace and the splendor of the decorations and the blaze of lights and jewels was acknowledged to be the most magnificent sight that any of the guests had ever seen.

The jolliest person present, as well as the most important, was of course old Santa Claus; so he was given the seat of honor at one end of the table while at the other end sat Princess Ozma, the hostess.

John Dough, Queen Zixi, King Bud, the Queen of Ev and her son Evardo, and the Queen of Merryland had golden thrones to sit in, while the others were supplied with beautiful chairs.

At the upper end of the banquet room was a separate table provided for the animals. Toto sat at one end of this table with a bib tied around his neck and a silver platter to eat from. At the other end was placed a small stand, with a low rail around the edge of it, for Billina and her chicks. The rail kept the ten little Dorothys from falling off the stand, while the Yellow Hen could easily reach over and take her food from her tray upon the table. At other places sat the Hungry Tiger, the Cowardly Lion, the Saw-Horse, the Rubber Bear, the Fox King and the Donkey King; they made quite a company of animals.

At the lower end of the great room was another table, at which sat the Ryls and Knooks who had come with Santa Claus, the wooden soldiers who had come with the Queen of Merryland, and the Hilanders and Lolanders who had come with John Dough. Here were also seated the officers of the royal palace and of Ozma's army.

The splendid costumes of those at the three tables made a gorgeous and glittering display that no one present was ever likely to forget; perhaps there has never been in any part of the world at any time another assemblage of such wonderful people as that which gathered this evening to honor the birthday of the Ruler of Oz.

When all members of ethe company were in their places an orchestra of five hundred pieces, in a balcony overlooking the banquet room, began to play sweet and delightful music. Then a door draped with royal green opened, and in came the fair and girlish Princess Ozma, who now greeted her guests in person for the first time.

As she stood by her throne at the head of the banquet table every eye was turned eagerly upon the lovely Princess, who was as dignified as she was bewitching, and who smiled upon all her old and new friends in a way that touched their hearts and brought an answering smile to every face.

Each guest had been served with a crystal goblet filled with lacasa, which is a sort of nectar famous in Oz and nicer to drink than soda-water or lemonade. Santa now made a pretty speech in verse, congratulating Ozma on having a birthday, and asking every one present to drink to the health and happiness of their dearly beloved hostess. This was done with great enthusiasm by those who were made so they could drink at all, and those who could not drink politely touched the rims of their goblets to their lips. All seated themselves at the tables and the servants of the Princess began serving the feast.

I am quite sure that only in Fairyland could such a delicious repast be prepared. The dishes were of precious metals set with brilliant jewels and the good things to eat which were placed upon them were countless in number and of exquisite flavor. Several present, such as the Candy Man, the Rubber Bear, Tik-tok, and the Scarecrow, were not made so they could eat, and the Queen of Merryland contented herself with a small dish of sawdust; but these enjoyed the pomp and glitter of the gorgeous scene as much as did those who feasted.

The Woggle-Bug read his "Ode to Ozma," which was written in very good rhythm and was well received by the company. The Wizard added to the entertainment by making a big pie appear before Dorothy, and when the little girl cut the pie the nine tiny piglets leaped out of it and danced around the table, while the orchestra played a merry tune. This amused the company very much, but they were even more pleased when Polychrome, whose hunger had been easily satisfied, rose from the table and performed her graceful and bewildering Rainbow Dance for them. When it was ended, the people clapped their hands and the animals clapped their paws, while Billina cackled and the Donkey King brayed approval.

Johnny Dooit was present, and of course he proved he could do wonders in the way of eating, as well as in everything else that he undertook to do; the Tin Woodman sang a love song, every one joining in the chorus; and the wooden soldiers from Merryland gave an exhibition of a lightning drill with their wooden muskets; the Ryls and Knooks danced the Fairy Circle; and the Rubber Bear bounced himself all around the room. There was laughter and merriment on every side, and everybody was having a royal good time. Button-Bright was so excited and interested that he paid little attention to his fine dinner and a great deal of attention to his queer companions; and perhaps he was wise to do this, because he could eat at any other time.

The feasting and merrymaking continued until late in the evening, when they separated to meet again the next morning and take part in the birthday celebration, to which this royal banquet was merely the introduction.


The Birthday Celebration

A clear, perfect day, with a gentle breeze and a sunny sky, greeted Princess Ozma as she wakened next morning, the anniversary of her birth. While it was yet early all the city was astir and crowds of people came from all parts of the Land of Oz to witness the festivities in honor of their girl Ruler's birthday.

The noted visitors from foreign countries, who had all been transported to the Emerald City by means of the Magic Belt, were as much a show to the Ozites as were their own familiar celebrities, and the streets leading from the royal palace to the jeweled gates were thronged with men, women, and children to see the procession as it passed out to the green fields where the ceremonies were to take place.

And what a great procession it was!

First came a thousand young girls--the prettiest in the land--dressed in white muslin, with green sashes and hair ribbons, bearing green baskets of red roses. As they walked they scattered these flowers upon the marble pavements, so that the way was carpeted thick with roses for the procession to walk upon.

Then came the Rulers of the four Kingdoms of Oz: the Emperor of the Winkies, the Monarch of the Munchkins, the King of the Quadlings and the Sovereign of the Gillikins, each wearing a long chain of emeralds around his neck to show that he was a vassal of the Ruler of the Emerald City.

Next marched the Emerald City Cornet Band, clothed in green-and-gold uniforms and playing the "Ozma Two-Step." The Royal Army of Oz followed, consisting of twenty-seven officers, from the Captain-General down to the Lieutenants. There were no privates in Ozma's Army because soldiers were not needed to fight battles, but only to look important, and an officer always looks more imposing than a private.

While the people cheered and waved their hats and handkerchiefs, there came walking the Royal Princess Ozma, looking so pretty and sweet that it is no wonder her people love her so dearly. She had decided she would not ride in her chariot that day, as she preferred to walk in the procession with her favored subjects and her guests. Just in front of her trotted the living Blue Bear Rug owned by old Dyna, which wobbled clumsily on its four feet because there was nothing but the skin to support them, with a stuffed head at one end and a stubby tail at the other. But whenever Ozma paused in her walk the Bear Rug would flop down flat upon the ground for the princess to stand upon until she resumed her progress.

Following the Princess stalked her two enormous beasts, the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger, and even if the Army had not been there these two would have been powerful enough to guard their mistress from any harm.

Next marched the invited guests, who were loudly cheered by the people of Oz along the road, and were therefore obliged to bow to right and left almost every step of the way. First was Santa Claus, who, because he was fat and not used to walking, rode the wonderful Saw-Horse. The merry old gentleman had a basket of small toys with him, and he tossed the toys one by one to the children as he passed by. His Ryls and Knooks marched close behind him.

Queen Zixi of Ix came after; then John Dough and the Cherub, with the rubber bear named Para Bruin strutting between them on its hind legs; then the Queen of Merryland, escorted by her wooden soldiers; then King Bud of Noland and his sister, the Princess Fluff; then the Queen of Ev and her ten royal children; then the Braided Man and the Candy Man, side by side; then King Dox of Foxville and King Kik-a-bray of Dunkiton, who by this time had become good friends; and finally Johnny Dooit, in his leather apron, smoking his long pipe.

These wonderful personages were not more heartily cheered by the people than were those who followed after them in the procession. Dorothy was a general favorite, and she walked arm in arm with the Scarecrow, who was beloved by all. Then came Polychrome and Button-Bright, and the people loved the Rainbow's pretty Daughter and the beautiful blue-eyed boy as soon as they saw them. The shaggy man in his shaggy new suit attracted much attention because he was such a novelty. With regular steps tramped the machine-man Tik-tok, and there was more cheering when the Wizard of Oz followed in the procession. The Woggle-Bug and Jack Pumpkinhead were next, and behind them Glinda the Sorceress and the Good Witch of the North. Finally came Billina, with her brood of chickens to whom she clucked anxiously to keep them together and to hasten them along so they would not delay the procession.

Another band followed, this time the Tin Band of the Emperor of the Winkies, playing a beautiful march called, "There's No Plate Like Tin." Then came the servants of the Royal Palace, in a long line, and behind them all the people joined the procession and marched away through the emerald gates and out upon the broad green.

Here had been erected a splendid pavilion, with a grandstand big enough to seat all the royal party and those who had taken part in the procession. Over the pavilion, which was of green silk and cloth of gold, countless banners waved in the breeze. Just in front of this, and connected with it by a runway had been built a broad platform, so that all the spectators could see plainly the entertainment provided for them.

The Wizard now became Master of Ceremonies, as Ozma had placed the conduct of the performance in his hands. After the people had all congregated about the platform and the royal party and the visitors were seated in the grandstand, the Wizard skillfully performed some feats of juggling glass balls and lighted candles. He tossed a dozen or so of them high in the air and caught them one by one as they came down, without missing any.

Then he introduced the Scarecrow, who did a sword-swallowing act that aroused much interest. After this the Tin Woodman gave an exhibition of Swinging the Axe, which he made to whirl around him so rapidly that the eye could scarcely follow the motion of the gleaming blade. Glinda the Sorceress then stepped upon the platform, and by her magic made a big tree grow in the middle of the space, made blossoms appear upon the tree, and made the blossoms become delicious fruit called tamornas, and so great was the quantity of fruit produced that when the servants climbed the tree and tossed it down to the crowd, there was enough to satisfy every person present.

Para Bruin, the rubber bear, climbed to a limb of the big tree, rolled himself into a ball, and dropped to the platform, whence he bounded up again to the limb. He repeated this bouncing act several times, to the great delight of all the children present. After he had finished, and bowed, and returned to his seat, Glinda waved her wand and the tree disappeared; but its fruit still remained to be eaten.

The Good Witch of the North amused the people by transforming ten stones into ten birds, the ten birds into ten lambs, and the ten lambs into ten little girls, who gave a pretty dance and were then transformed into ten stones again, just as they were in the beginning.

Johnny Dooit next came on the platform with his tool-chest, and in a few minutes built a great flying machine; then put his chest in the machine and the whole thing flew away together--Johnny and all--after he had bid good-bye to those present and thanked the Princess for her hospitality.

The Wizard then announced the last act of all, which was considered really wonderful. He had invented a machine to blow huge soap-bubbles, as big as balloons, and this machine was hidden under the platform so that only the rim of the big clay pipe to produce the bubbles showed above the flooring. The tank of soapsuds, and the air-pumps to inflate the bubbles, were out of sight beneath, so that when the bubbles began to grow upon the floor of the platform it really seemed like magic to the people of Oz, who knew nothing about even the common soap-bubbles that our children blow with a penny clay pipe and a basin of soap-and-water.

The Wizard had invented another thing. Usually, soap-bubbles are frail and burst easily, lasting only a few moments as they float in the air; but the Wizard added a sort of glue to his soapsuds, which made his bubbles tough; and, as the glue dried rapidly when exposed to the air, the Wizard's bubbles were strong enough to float for hours without breaking.

He began by blowing--by means of his machinery and air-pumps--several large bubbles which he allowed to float upward into the sky, where the sunshine fell upon them and gave them iridescent hues that were most beautiful. This aroused much wonder and delight because it was a new amusement to every one present--except perhaps Dorothy and Button-Bright, and even they had never seen such big, strong bubbles before.

The Wizard then blew a bunch of small bubbles and afterward blew a big bubble around them so they were left in the center of it; then he allowed the whole mass of pretty globes to float into the air and disappear in the far distant sky.

"That is really fine!" declared Santa Claus, who loved toys and pretty things. "I think, Mr. Wizard, I shall have you blow a bubble around me; then I can float away home and see the country spread out beneath me as I travel. There isn't a spot on earth that I haven't visited, but I usually go in the night-time, riding behind my swift reindeer. Here is a good chance to observe the country by daylight, while I am riding slowly and at my ease."

"Do you think you will be able to guide the bubble?" asked the Wizard.

"Oh yes; I know enough magic to do that," replied Santa Claus. "You blow the bubble, with me inside of it, and I'll be sure to get home in safety."

"Please send me home in a bubble, too!" begged the Queen of Merryland.

"Very well, madam; you shall try the journey first," politely answered old Santa.

The pretty wax doll bade good-bye to the Princess Ozma and the others and stood on the platform while the Wizard blew a big soap-bubble around her. When completed, he allowed the bubble to float slowly upward, and there could be seen the little Queen of Merryland standing in the middle of it and blowing kisses from her fingers to those below. The bubble took a southerly direction, quickly floating out of sight.

"That's a very nice way to travel," said Princess Fluff. "I'd like to go home in a bubble, too."

So the Wizard blew a big bubble around Princess Fluff, and another around King Bud, her brother, and a third one around Queen Zixi; and soon these three bubbles had mounted into the sky and were floating off in a group in the direction of the kingdom of Noland.

The success of these ventures induced the other guests from foreign lands to undertake bubble journeys, also; so the Wizard put them one by one inside his bubbles, and Santa Claus directed the way they should go, because he knew exactly where everybody lived.

Finally, Button-Bright said:

"I want to go home, too."

"Why, so you shall!" cried Santa; "for I'm sure your father and mother will be glad to see you again. Mr. Wizard, please blow a big, fine bubble for Button-Bright to ride in, and I'll agree to send him home to his family as safe as safe can be."

"I'm sorry," said Dorothy with a sigh, for she was fond of her little comrade; "but p'raps it's best for Button-Bright to get home; 'cause his folks must be worrying just dreadful."

She kissed the boy, and Ozma kissed him, too, and all the others waved their hands and said good-bye and wished him a pleasant journey.

"Are you glad to leave us, dear?" asked Dorothy, a little wistfully.

"Don't know," said Button-Bright.

He sat down cross-legged on the platform, with his sailor hat tipped back on his head, and the Wizard blew a beautiful bubble all around him.

A minute later it had mounted into the sky, sailing toward the west, and the last they saw of Button-Bright he was still sitting in the middle of the shining globe and waving his sailor hat at those below.

"Will you ride in a bubble, or shall I send you and Toto home by means of the Magic Belt?" the Princess asked Dorothy.

"Guess I'll use the Belt," replied the little girl. "I'm sort of 'fraid of those bubbles."

"Bow-wow!" said Toto, approvingly. He loved to bark at the bubbles as they sailed away, but he didn't care to ride in one.

Santa Claus decided to go next. He thanked Ozma for her hospitality and wished her many happy returns of the day. Then the Wizard blew a bubble around his chubby little body and smaller bubbles around each of his Ryls and Knooks.

As the kind and generous friend of children mounted into the air the people all cheered at the top of their voices, for they loved Santa Claus dearly; and the little man heard them through the walls of his bubble and waved his hands in return as he smiled down upon them. The band played bravely while every one watched the bubble until it was completely out of sight.

"How 'bout you, Polly?" Dorothy asked her friend. "Are you 'fraid of bubbles, too?"

"No," answered Polychrome, smiling; "but Santa Claus promised to speak to my father as he passed through the sky. So perhaps I shall get home an easier way."

Indeed, the little maid had scarcely made this speech when a sudden radiance filled the air, and while the people looked on in wonder the end of a gorgeous rainbow slowly settled down upon the platform.

With a glad cry, the Rainbow's Daughter sprang from her seat and danced along the curve of the bow, mounting gradually upward, while the folds of her gauzy gown whirled and floated around her like a cloud and blended with the colors of the rainbow itself.

"Good-bye Ozma! Good-bye Dorothy!" cried a voice they knew belonged to Polychrome; but now the little maiden's form had melted wholly into the rainbow, and their eyes could no longer see her.

Suddenly, the end of the rainbow lifted and its colors slowly faded like mist before a breeze. Dorothy sighed deeply and turned to Ozma.

"I'm sorry to lose Polly," she said; "but I guess she's better off with her father; 'cause even the Land of Oz couldn't be like home to a cloud fairy."

"No indeed," replied the Princess; "but it has been delightful for us to know Polychrome for a little while, and--who knows?--perhaps we may meet the Rainbow's Daughter again, some day."

The entertainment being now ended, all left the pavilion and formed their gay procession back to the Emerald City again. Of Dorothy's recent traveling companions only Toto and the shaggy man remained, and Ozma had decided to allow the latter to live in Oz for a time, at least. If he proved honest and true she promised to let him live there always, and the shaggy man was anxious to earn this reward.

They had a nice quiet dinner together and passed a pleasant evening with the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodman, Tik-tok, and the Yellow Hen for company.

When Dorothy bade them good-night, she kissed them all good-bye at the same time. For Ozma had agreed that while Dorothy slept she and Toto should be transported by means of the Magic Belt to her own little bed in the Kansas farm-house and the little girl laughed as she thought how astonished Uncle Henry and Aunt Em would be when she came down to breakfast with them next morning.

Quite content to have had so pleasant an adventure, and a little tired by all the day's busy scenes, Dorothy clasped Toto in her arms and lay down upon the pretty white bed in her room in Ozma's royal palace.

Presently she was sound asleep.


THE FORGETFUL POET
 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, January 5, 1919.
 

A Few Words From the Forgetful Poet

Two heads come together with a common point in view when the head of a hammer strikes the head of a tack. And that is the answer to last week's puzzle.

He says that there are a number of things referred to in these verses. I should say they are hidden pretty well, but perhaps you have sharper eyes than I have.

One is eaten,
One is petted,
One is lived in,
Bought or letted!

One is on a spool
And not
A one's complete
Without a cot?

[Answers next time.]


Copyright © 2009 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Friday, May 1, 2009

THE GREAT LEAPING MATCH

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of Ozoplaning with the Wizard of Oz, The Wish Express, "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 26, 1920.



Up in the mountains of Vermont lives an old Dwyer Dwarf, who each year gives a gift to one of the little animals of the mountain top, and never do they know until the day of the giving how the gift shall be won. Dwyer Dwarfs are queer little men, who have always lived in those green mountains, nor does any one know what their name means. But just let a small animal greet one with, "Good morning, Mr. Dwarf!" instead of "Good morning, Mr. Dwyer Dwarf!" and like as not he will have his tail or ear wished off in a twinkling.

But the Dwyer Dwarf that I am telling you about was kinder than his fellows and every New Year's day he would appear on a particular stump and give to one of the animals a tiny charm, which kept him from every enemy and all harm for a whole year.

So on New Year's day the animals forgot their grudges and assembled at the dwarf's meeting place and, when the last one had arrived, a little door in the top opened and out popped the Dwyer Dwarf, his beard all combed and his face twinkling with good humor.

And after he had wished them all the good things on Green Mountain and said "Howde" to all the new children, he rubbed his hands and said he was minded to have a leaping contest, and to the one leaping the greatest number of feet the good gift should be given. At this the smaller animals were very downcast.

"Use your wits as well as your heels, remember!" chuckled the dwarf, "and come back here in one hour for the contest. The animals walked off talking among themselves, the deer stepping proudly, for it seemed that one of their number surely would win the prize - although there were some who thought the foxes and rabbits might have a chance, too, though of the smaller animals no one had a thought.

But a little Father Wood Mouse, who had a new family of girls and boys, was thinking of the Dwyer Dwarf's last words, "Remember to use your wits as well as your heels," and he sat down right where he was and thought and thought, and pretty soon he went pattering off to see a friend of his who lived in a hole in an abandoned lumber camp.

"Come along with me, Featherfoot, for I've an idea you will be of use to me," said the little creature.

Now, Featherfoot, being an obliging fellow, went along with Father Mouse, and when the animals were assembled for the contest he was there also. But no one saw him, for he was so very, very hard to see.

And now began the most wonderful leaping match ever held. The rabbits hurled themselves like furry cannon balls into the air and squirrels seemed fairly to fly. Even the bears made surprising springs, while the foxes outdid themselves. But when the deer floated like feathers over a huge pile of logs the whole company felt that one of these would win the contest, and the Dwyer Dwarf himself thought so, and bade them line up for another trial.

"Not until I have tried!" piped up a small voice, and Father Wood Mouse stepped forward. He made a queer little jump, then cried excitedly:

"I have won the good gift; I have jumped over a hundred feet!"

And when the animals rolled over with laughter he only cried it the louder, till the dwarf came down to see what he meant by such a statement. Then he laughed till the tears rolled like pearls off his beard and gave the prize to that tiny Wood Mouse, for he had indeed jumped over a hundred feet and won the contest with his wits. He had jumped over Featherfoot, the thousand-legger, whose feet numbered more than a hundred. Think of that, dears and ducks!


THE FORGETFUL POET
 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 15, 1918. 
 
 
Puzzles

I really do not think we need any puzzles this week. I think we are all puzzled enough, sweethearts, over our Christmas lists. To find for every one that we love at Christmas just the right and loveliest gift, to choose something no one else may, why surely this is a riddle worthy of Solomon Tremendous Wise himself! Don't you think?

The Forgetful Poet is so busy solving it that he merely sent a slip of paper with the answer to his last week's query - no sign of a new verse or riddle! He says that a sailor should never be hungry because he walks with a roll. Ho, ho; did you ever!

The following puzzle was handed in by a bird who evidently got it from a fairy:

An Elf's Room

I have a room all to myself,
With ceiling but no walls;
And there I sit and sip my tea
And wait for fairy calls.

What kind of room do you 'spose it could be?

[Answers next time.]
 


Copyright © 2009 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER

By John R. Neill
Illustrator of most of the Oz books, and author of The Runaway in Oz, The Wonder City of Oz, Lucky Bucky in Oz, etc.

Originally published in Boy's Life, December 1919.

The Mysterious Stranger

It was Christmas Eve in the year of Our Lord 960. A quick twilight had spent itself, and a soft flurry of the snow that had been falling all day still blew among the trees, banking itself around the roots and falling from the upper branches as they swayed in the growing gale. Trudging through the snow was the bent figure of an old man, his hood and mantle covered with snow.

Falteringly he kept on until he reached a small house with a few outbuildings enveloped, like himself, in a garb of somber white. He found the snow so banked against the door that it was not without some labor that he cleared the entrance.

Inside all was warmth and cheer; holly and evergreens draped the corners and mistletoe hung in bunches from the low rafters, rough hewn and seemingly new.

He bowed low as he put his cloak aside, trying to conceal a scroll fastened to the pouch that hung from his girdle.

"My humble respects to your gracious ladyship," he said, turning to a matron of imposing dignity who sat a little back from the hearth arranging a frame for needlework. And as he turned, his eyes lit up his face and snowwhite beard.

Though seared with years, fire still lurked there, fire fed by habits of thoughtfulness.

He was about to continue when from a passage a boy of eighteen came lightly forward and slipping his hand into the old man's said gaily, "What have you here, my precious oracle? Soothsayers are rare and, by the poker, it would seem that our ancient truth is failing. Come, now, tell me the tale, for all the night long on yesternight I spent in vigil at St. Benedict's shrine, to purge my honor and my sword as Sir Hector bade me. All these labors are as nought should I not gain my spurs at last. Please, Matholch, come and tell me what it portends." And he held the parchment to the light.


HIC JACET ARTHURUS, REX QUONDAM, REXQUE FUTURUS
Laughing he read aloud. "As you love me, tell me of this mystery."


HERE LIES ARTHUR WHO ONCE WAS KING AND A KING TO BE
solemnly explained the old man. "It is a somber token; its spell is potent from All Hallow E'en till Candlemas, and, I beseech thee, do not treat too lightly of these mysteries. My gracious Lady Mortinac," he added, turning to the mistress of the house, "your Guilford has a spell of cheerfulness that from my dry bones has long departed. His heart is like the rabbit's ears, alert to hear."

Sadly the lady questioned: "But could they hear as surely as the hare's where danger lurks?"

The seer bowed his head.

"Woe, woe, woe is me," he wailed. This might have continued had not Guilford, seeing how the old man's mind was bent, tried to console him and lead his humor to more cheerful themes.

"Then do tell me a tale from your vast store for, as I have said, all last night I spent at the altar."

Slowly, as he ate and drank, the old man smiled, trying to find a thread upon which to weave a tale ; then he began:

"This story is spun of the filo-floss of fancy of dim years, of Mimi Bois and her fair sister, Guenevere, both radiant as the morn, with hair of silver and of night, who grew from the roots of the trees and there remained, set apart, but spent the time in sending messages by passing pilgrims to swains both far and wide, until their fame was noised so wide throughout all Christendom a quest was--"

"But wait! What may that be?" exclaimed Lady Mortinac, hurrying to the door, "I hear voices."

With a hurried knock a lady clad in snow-covered hood and cape rushed in and threw herself, disheveled, at the lady's feet. Her words were choked with sobs and she shuddered with terror as she spoke.

Guilford Mortinac stepped back as his mother soothed the terrified girl.

"Why, it is Mistress Enid St. Marys! My sweet young, friend, pray be calm! What brings you here this boisterous night? How say you?"

"To you, my dear, dear friend, my mother's friend, you ask aright what brings me here! Since the false usurper, Guy Howlett, in league with the Abbot of Monmouth whom he has tricked into submission, has broken into my castle by force of arms and overrun my heritage like frenzied fleas."

Still weeping, the maiden told of the assault of the castle Avedon, her home, by a band of robbers led by Howlett, a cordwainer from the north. Knowing of this retreat in the greenwood, here she had sought solace, after sending a report of her evil fortune to the Bishop of Hereford.

By wiles and petting, the Lady Morganne Mortinac soothed the distracted maiden with hope of assistance that would come to rid them all of this boor, when into the room, clad in full armor came Guilford. He stepped to his mother and, still smiling through his visor, said:

"Behold the rabbit's ears! From you, fair Mistress Enid, by the grace and favor of your mother's memory, I crave the acceptance of my sword in your defense."

The words had a hollow sound, cased as they were in a helmet of steel.

It was with a cumbrous stride that Guilford passed out the door. No sooner had he left than old Matholch, the hermit, fell into a trance, uttering incantations weird in the dim room whose silence was broken only by the sobbing of the girl and the soughing without.

Soberly Guilford went through the snow to where a score or more of faithful men at arms stood with downcast heads.

There, towering among the others, he saw Tud Gildas, who had been esquire to his father, Sir Modred Mortinac. Tud had always been a squire, for knighthood required for its maintenance funds that poor Tud lacked, though of hardihood and valor he had plenty, and under the standard of Sir Modred he had fared much better than he would have under his own.

No one spoke; all stood mute and tense.

"A sorry night methinks," said Guilford at last.

"Aye, sire," said Tud, "but Gwidd and Lucan, Caw Lawyen and Lagafuerys, and all of us here, would we were not here but back at Avedon to cut a reeking path, by heaven's grace, through Guy Howlett's churls into his black heart."

"Rightly said, and by my conscience, my pathway beckons too in that direction," returned the lad.

"At the onset," Lagafuerys explained, "our Mistress commanded us to bring her to your mother here; the time was short and our forces, many of them gone to Hereford to hold high carnival with Galwin's men, had left us to escape the havoc of the siege by secret passages, once we cut our way through the cordon of Howlett's burly varlets, our journey was without mishap, and here we are, full twenty-seven men and armed."

"Come, come," said Guilford, "you are unseemly sad! By ruth, we shall assail their ruthlessness. Bid the men prepare, they'll find me eager as any of them to return."

With the treachery that resulted in the death of Guilford's father and the pillage of his estate, and that was followed by ignoble ravages and the spoliation of the district around, and had put the country well nigh to Hereford in terror of Howlett and his band, none had suffered more than Guilford and his mother, who had been forced into exile to eke out bare existence in the greenwood.

From position and power his family had fallen until now it seemed Howlett would soon break the boy's spirit by persecution, for the king was in France and Enid's father, the Earl of Narberth, was with him, fighting the wars of his country overseas.

But time was not lost, since the issue of the night pressed hard on the young squire's patience, and shortly the cavalcade was on its way, galloping into the highway that led to Avedon, four and twenty miles beyond.

Not a word was spoken, so absorbed were they all as they rode through the silent snow until nigh to eleven miles had been covered. Then suddenly they perceived, though the night was blacker than an ugly dream, that they were not alone.

Some one was leading them.

Hard upon this discovery, some two hundred rods ahead the clatter of arms and thunder of horses' hoofs gave them warning.

They knew Howlett must be sending a detachment in pursuit along the trail left in the snow.

Quickly they prepared their formation, Guilford and Tud Gildas ahead, Gaw Norbert, Balmont and Caw Lawyen abreast, all lowering their spears as they plunged into the assault in rows of three.

Into the chaos of blackness they swept and Guilford, elated by the frenzied action, met the crash, again and again.

Straight on, past curses and surly groans mingled with breaking gear and harness and underbrush as men and horses were hurled aside, they swept; nor did they stop to see what damage had been done till, a mile ahead young Guilford brought his followers to a halt and found little need to tarry for, beyond slight wounds, the band had stood intact and in good form.

Their opponents seemed to have been unprepared, their rout was complete and the next day showed the toll they had paid in men and horses.

Elated by their first encounter Guilford and his followers rode on, compact and resolute, taking their stand with determination on the side of truth and valor.

Ahead of them the stranger still rode lightly, giving, they felt rather than knew, courage to all.

Reckless they seemed, perhaps, a mere handful and vastly outnumbered, assailing a force that was powerful and drunk with success, successes of treachery and loot, defying even the King himself, that grew from weeks into months of lawlessness and terrorizing. These reflections crowded through Guilford's mind, but instead of fear, he felt his spirit nettled into action.

On they went, trees glided past, the lodges of freemen and hamlets of serfs and villains, all sleeping under the mantle of snow, until a full hour's riding brought them to a hill from which they could see through the trees the grim towers of Avedon. And in the van still rode this stranger.

Approaching, they saw that the portcullis was drawn up and the bridge was down. The entrance gave the castle the appearance of a yawning monster with its mouth open, ready to swallow any one within its reach.

While yet somewhat off they stopped to rest and give themselves time to arrange their plan of battle. From the tallest tower they could see dimly the bodies of the former defenders of the castle strung on gibbets, swaying and turning in the wind and snow. Perhaps they had been heard from the castle, or seen, for a harsh grating sound began, and slowly, with creaking and clanking of chains, the great drawbridge began to move.

They were now on foot and, with one impulse, they went forward to find the drawbridge rising, inch by inch, until it was breast high.

Tud Gildas and Guilford cleared it and Balmont with two others followed rushing forward in a body to the passage that led to the court yard as the varlets inside ran to give the alarm.

During this short lapse the defenders turned on their assailants but it gave the attackers time to release the windlass and let the drawbridge down while the whole band crossed.

From inside the castle men sprang up everywhere and rushed into the mêlée.

Always in advance their stranger seemed to lead and Guilford for one short moment plainly saw him, a giant in stature and of kingly bearing. It was for one moment only, for they were beset on every side by Howlett's knaves, bands of thieves, surly varlets, all the rips of discord from the isles, led by Guy Howlett's son Big Gwilim, as precious a cutthroat as could be found in many leagues. Him it was young Guilford most wished to engage and each turn was bringing him nearer to his goal.

Thrice he was rushed by a dozen men, but he held his ground with his back to the wall till men in mounds lay on the flagging before him. Sword blades and maces rained on his helmet, and every blow was returned with a zeal that told well of old Sir Hector's training.

Each wave of battle was met and parried as, one by one, the enemy's forces broke. It seemed more like a prearranged show than the vital combat that it really was. So unerring was the plan of the attackers that the courtyard, which hardly a half hour since teemed with cutthroats in armor and yeomen, seemed, in the dim light of the torches, to be deserted save for a few scattered groups that held the entrances to the castle doors.

A little to the right, on a semicircular porch, was the portal leading to the tower; there at last Guilford saw Gwilim stand. He was clad in the armor of Guilford's father, Sir Modred, taken after he had been set upon and murdered by Gwilim at the command of Guy.

Tud Gildas at his side, Guilford with a tense heart, pressed forward and with his broad-sword parried at Gwilim's throat, gave him the challenge, though he was full two hands less in height.

Knowing that one of Guilford's rank need not engage with one of Gwilim's, Gwiffert and Caw would have rushed to his defense but Tud held them back.

The two youths stood a moment, their eyes upon one another, then they closed in a battle to death.

The villainy of Gwilim betrayed itself in foul strokes and passes which, as the combat grew, indicated a weakening on which Guilford was not long in playing.

Then, quick as an adder, he dropped his sword, drew his dagger and grappled with his adversary. Thrusting it at his throat he cut the laces that held the meshes of Gwilim's haubert, leaving his neck and shoulders exposed.

As quickly again he stepped back to regain his sword; in his haste he would have fallen with Gwilim's great weight crushing upon him, but balancing himself immediately he sprang to one side and was again on guard.

From the start Guilford had had in his mind this coup de grâce and, with a lightning stroke, he broke down the robber's guard and his sword, whistling back in a counter stroke, embedded itself in the foul traitor's neck, his knees gave way and he fell in a heap on the stone steps, dead.

Then without came the clear call of the mysterious stranger, "En avant" ringing through the castle. With one blow of his mace he shattered the grating in the door before him and led them up the steps into the main tower, into which Guy had retreated.

The stone stairway was spiral and dark as pitch, the steps were damp and slippery, covered with a ruck of twigs that had fallen from the narrow windows where the ravens had built their nests. The ascent was slow and labored. Half way up they stumbled over the cowering figure of the Abbot of Monmouth, blanched with fear as he held his beads before his bloodshot eyes. Dragging him up they forced the oak door that led to a balcony battlemented and carved in fantastic forms. All around were strewn pieces of armor and shields dropped by the fleeing knaves, and the attackers were saddened by the sight of many of their companions and friends that had died in the first sorry defense.

With reverence they laid them in a row in a low niche that was protected from the snow. Then Guilford, turning his attention to Guy, who was now crowding with his men the turret of the smaller and loftiest tower, commanded him to surrender.

A torrent of arrows was the only reply.

"Come down, or by the torment I will drag you hence and fit your punishment to the lying of your cloven tongue—or yet, better than sully an honest sword in any of your foul carcasses, you may stay where you are and feed the hungry vultures, your friends and brothers."

The vain efforts of the archers soon ceased, for they now realized with terror their plight, locked as they were in a tower without food or shelter from the cold, with the grim monster of hunger threatening them above and a shining array of trusty broadswords menacing them below.

Turning to address his respects to the unknown stranger Guilford saw him nowhere. He sent messengers to find him but they all returned from an unavailing search.

Removing his heavier armor, for with chain shirt only he could move more quickly, he himself began to look, hastening down the stairs.

He had scarcely disappeared when a shriek came from above through the darkness and an object fell, striking the battlement and glancing out into the abyss below, and the archers in the tower began to call for mercy. But the soldiers on the balcony below gave them no heed.

Meanwhile, not high or low could the stranger be found, and Guilford was perplexed.

Every corridor and niche, secret passage hall and gallery was searched for him whose leadership had brought them victory, but no trace was found.

So he sent for his men to clear the courtyard below and, coming himself to the stone steps, he saw there, beside the prone remains of Gwilim, the body of his father, Guy, motionless in the snow. He had been hurled by his own men from the tower above.

And as they stood in the flickering light, silent but for the clanking armor of the men coming down the stairway, a trumpet blare sounded, a troup of mounted soldiers poured through the portal from outside, and, with a cry, they distinguished the standard of the Bishop of Hereford, with old Galwin at their head.

His red beard bristling as he roared challenges to Guy Howlett to meet him, he was led to where the traitor lay.

And after he had heard the events of the night still he roared, in amazement mixed a little with a bluff soldier's spleen at not having been a part of it all; then, as he turned away, he burst forth in л carol that must have been running in his head:

Nowell! Nowell! in this halle
Make merry, I pray you alle!
On that chylde may wee calle.
Night of sadness,
Morn of gladness
Ever, Ever Evermore,
After many troubles sore
Sing out with blisse
His name is this,
Emanuel!
As was foretolde
In days of olde,
By Gab-ri-el!


He seemed to take great satisfaction in the last line, from the lingering way he dwelt on it, and as Guilford prepared to depart he could still hear him singing.

Now, since his work was finished, Guilford left old Galwin in command and began a dreary journey back to the shelter in the green wood where his mother waited.

And as he rode his thoughts were busy over the crowded events of the night, and especially he puzzled over the strange and valiant knight; the more he thought, the more his fancy played about the unknown.

Stealing up in the east were flecks of faint color that boldly grew and when he met his mother at the door it was daylight.
Jan 3 Never had a morning seemed so bright; though he had not slept he was not tired, but made preparations in all haste to return with the women to Avedon there to make their Christmas a festal day that would be remembered as long as they lived by all who should partake.

In the confusion he had not at first missed old Matholch; then he called his name again and again without receiving any reply, and his mother told him that shortly before Guilford returned she had seen Matholch stand in the road until a horseman came up when both disappeared.

Like a flash came back to Guilford the words of the old man of King Arthur, who once was king and a king to be, whose spell was strong from All Hallow E'en till Candlemas.

"Perhaps," he mused as he went about the Christmas preparations, "perhaps, last night our strange comrade was the spirit of the King."


THE FORGETFUL POET
 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 8, 1918. 


Puzzles by the Forgetful Poet

Because he is such a forgetful fellow he says he had better answer last week's puzzles before making any new ones.

The word O.e--naughty. First verse--Chrysanthemum. Corrected verses as follows:

The wind was blowing gently
And the snow began to fall;
The moon behind a cloud, my stars,
This don't sound right at all!

The lights shone out upon the hill,
The children in their beds
Seeing the snowflakes falling,
Dreamed of skating and of sleds!

This week he wants to know: Why a sailor should never be hungry?

[Answers next time.]

Copyright © 2009 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

SUB SIGHTED!

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of Ozoplaning with the Wizard of Oz, The Wish Express, "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in King Comics #49, November 1942.



It was the last frolic before the break-up of Bayside Camp on the Cape. Not the usual weekly cruise to Clay's Island for a corn and clam bake, but a real bang-up all-day party and celebration at Provincetown itself. A special permit had been secured giving the Romp permission to cross the bay from Wellfleet to the doll-like little town on the tip of Cape Cod, and though theirs was an inside course and not in the ocean at all, a lively discussion about subs was already under way.

"Subs could easily come in here," asserted Polly Spencer, hopefully waving her binoculars. To this the other Baysiders enthusiastically agreed, passing the glasses from hand to hand, till eyes and necks protesting, they were thankfully returned to their owner. A. D., the camp's head counselor, did not bother to explain the extreme improbability of encountering a sub. She felt it a shame to remove the thrill of such an experience from their last cruise. Only the captain of the little motor boat allowed himself an indulgent chuckle as the girls agreed to post a lookout on the cabin top and take turns on watch. Gabe Saunders, hailed as Gabriel because she played cornet in the camp band, climbed cheerfully aloft for the first turn. The others, intent on the souvenirs they hoped to pick up in Provincetown and the prospect of a good old gorge on sodas and buns to make up for the balanced diet at Bayside, soon forgot all about subs, chattering away as noisily as the Romp's engine. Gulls circled lazily overhead as they went chugging along through the choppy waters of Cape Cod Bay. The sky above was so blue and the air so clear and snappy the Codders (Bayside girls after a season in camp felt justified in calling themselves that) could not help breaking into song. One tune followed another so fast the morning passed quickly and everyone was astonished when A. D. began handing 'round the lunch boxes. Though the motion of the boat was considerable, all hands fell to with a hearty appetite and complete justice was done to the sandwiches, pickles, eggs, tomatoes, cake and fruit. Captain Bill's hard-boiled egg, parked absentmindedly in his port pocket, rolled down into the engine when he lifted the hatch to see how it was running. Sally Blake sat on a tomato, but these little incidents only added to the general hilarity. In fact, there was such a merry noise and racket the first shriek from the lookout went completely unheeded. But at Betty's second scream - Bet was now doing her turn - everyone stopped chewing and talking at the same instant. Lunches were pushed aside and only a sharp order from A. D. kept them all from rushing over to Betty's side of the Romp. In one leap Betty had landed on the deck and was pointing wordless t' leeward.

"What is it?" gasped Polly, snatching the binoculars. "Did you see one? Was it really a sub? Here, give us a gander!"

"Girls! Girls!" warned the A. D. as the Codders made another rush toward Betty and the Romp dipped down dangerously. "What use is it going to a nautical camp if you forget all the rules of seamanship at the first test? Back to your places. Spread out as you were. Now then, Betty, what DID you see?"

"A�a periscope!" stuttered Betty, waving her sandwich in a dramatic circle. And she kept stubbornly repeating herself even after the whole crew, squinting off in the direction indicated, declared there was nothing in sight but the bobbing waves of the bay.

"I don't care what you say. It WAS there, too!" declared Betty, stamping her foot in exasperation as no one seemed inclined to take her story seriously. "First there was a long shadow and then this gray funnel sticking up out of the water. Oh, do put about, Captain Bill, it's heading right this way."

"Pshaw, you've, been reading too many war stories," muttered the captain, taking his pipe out of his mouth and staring quizzically off toward the horizon. "There's never been a sub in these waters and likely there never will be."

"Just the same. I think she's right." Janey Bramwell, who'd been quietly reading a magazine during all the fun and merriment, spoke up smartly. Usually no one paid any attention to Janey. She'd come up to Bayside for the last ten days, and who could be expected to be treated as a real camper in that short time? At first Janey had tried to enter into the spirit of the sports and games, but irked by the patronizing and superior attitude of the older girls and their unwillingness to include her in any of the inner circles or fun, she gave up the attempt and, bothering as little as possible with camp routine, extracted what enjoyment she could from the boats and scenery. But today was different, and as every eye turned in her direction she announced calmly: "There's a destroyer aft." Captain Bill's pipe fell to the deck with a clatter. Half the Codders made a dive for the inside cabin. The others, frozen to the spot in a kind of terror, watched the grim shape cutting through the bay's blue waters. "Nothing to be frightened about." Again Jane spoke calmly. "It's an American destroyer. See, there's the flag!"

" 'Course it's an American destroyer!" Grumbling and muttering, Captain Bill retrieved his pipe while the crowd in the cabin came streaming out. Certainly they'd all known it was an American destroyer.

"We'll edge over and have a look. Not every day they come as close as this," Captain Bill said, giving his wheel a spin.

"Look, she's signalling another boat," observed A. D., now perfectly cool and collected again. "Probably out on maneuvers. Watch this, girls; it should be interesting."

"There isn't any other boat," said Jane politely but firmly. "They're signalling to us, Miss Dreighton."

"To us. Oh, my goodness! Why should they? Here, Polly, Anne, Frances, you've all had wigwagging. Hop up on the cabin, one of you, and see what's wanted."

"Oh, but he goes so fast." demurred Polly, making no move to mount the cabin. "Oh, that's not the way we learned signalling, A. D." Frowning and really alarmed, Miss Dreighton turned to Captain Bill. He, knowing nothing of the navy signalling code, merely shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, why," groaned A. D. frantically to herself, "had she not brought Speedy, the camp's nautical instructor and expert, along."

"Suppose I edge closer," proposed Captain Bill with a doubtful look over his shoulder.

"Would you like me to take the message?" inquired Janey, calmly putting down her peach and magazine.

"Oh, COULD you? WOULD YOU?" With an eager push, A. D. accelerated Janey's spring to the cabin top. Once there, the little rookie waved a handkerchief in each hand to attract the furiously wigwagging sailor on the destroyer's bridge. Then she stood stiffly at attention while he continued to wigwag more furiously than ever. As the Codders with open-mouthed envy and admiration looked on, Janey wigwagged a satisfactory answer back. That it was satisfactory they could tell from the cheerful waves of the sailors aboard the destroyer and the hoarse cheer of the signaller himself.

"Quick, what did he say?" demanded A. D. as Janey slid down with more speed than grace. Janey cocked a cold and critical eye at her discomfited mates. "He said," stated Janey, " 'Have sighted sub and are chasing same. Scram!' "

"I told you it was a sub," screamed Betty, her voice hoarse between triumph and terror.

"And what did YOU say?" inquired A, D. in the electric little silence that followed. Sinking back into her deck chair, Janey picked up her magazine with elaborate carelessness. "Who, ME? Oh, I said, 'O, K., keep 'em fleeing!' "

"Good!" A brief smile chased the frown of worry from the counselor's anguished countenance. Then, turning to Captain Bill, she barked out an order. "Put about and get out of here, FAST! Now, girls, no confusion, no panic. Stand by for further instructions, and whatever happens -" A. D.'s voice trailed off, for who could tell what they should do then?

"The destroyer told us to proceed to Provincetown and wait there for permission to leave," volunteered Janey. This time she spoke less stiffly, for she, herself, was excited to the very bone.

"We're nearer Provincetown, at that," puffed Captain Bill, swinging his wheel to port. "I aim to lay up the boat there tomorrow, anyway, so I'll just stay on and you and the girls can go back to camp by bus."

"Oh, not before we see the fun, I hope," exclaimed Janey, leaning her elbows on the Romp's low rail and gazing intently off toward the destroyer, now churning away in the direction where Betty had first sighted the sub.

"Fun?" choked Captain Bill, veering in the opposite direction as speedily as his engine would take him. "If you think roosting over a torpedo is fun, you're crazy."

"Sub fun," giggled Gabe, who would make a joke out of a hanging.

"Oh, wait till John hears about this," exulted Janey, paying no attention as her magazine slid overboard.

"Who's John?" asked Polly, edging over to sit beside Jane and proffering her binoculars as a sort of peace offering.

"John? Oh, he's my brother, and in the navy. He taught me all the signals on his last leave."

"A brother in the navy! Boy, are you lucky! Me, I knew some of those old wigwags, but darned if I could get organized."

"Using what you know at the right time and why is the real test of knowledge," said A. D. with a warm little twinkle for the camp rookie. "Taking that message earns Jane her camp letters in one week. Janey here is going to make a real sailor."

"Thank you." Janey, who'd been sole crew and able-bodied seaman for years on her brother's ketch in Barnegat Bay, smiled demurely. And from then on, as she wrote John later, everything was better if not completely smooth. Though the Codders did not have the thrill of seeing the sub-marine chase, they were still near enough to watch the depth bombs going over and to feel, as indeed they were, in the middle of the grimmest war in history. As they rolled home by bus late that evening they all voted the last frolic most thrilling of all. It was, too, except for A. D., who heaved a great sigh of relief when the tents and cabins of Camp Bayside hove into view.


THE FORGETFUL POET
 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 1, 1918.


A Few More Puzzles by That Old Friend of Ours

First and 4most he wants to answer his last puzzles. He says a shoe is like you because it has a long tongue. (The idea!) And a tree is like himself because it has its head in the air and is a great loser. He loses everything--almost. A potato is related to a table because it is a vege-table--and the words which he had abbreviated were sedate, decipher, opiate, foray, tool and Entente.

Here is one he forgot to put in last week--O. E.

"Tall and slender,
Shaggy topped,
Mum's the word," he said,
Then stopped.

I made that rhyme up myself, so don't be too critical of it. Can you guess the puzzle?

Here are some of his own verses, which seem even more mixed up than usual:

Last Night

The moon was blowing gently
And the wind began to fall;
The snow behind a cloud--my stars!--
This don't sound right at all!

But let's proceed. The fields were coated
With a powdery white--
Like sugar on a pie--now I
Think this verse is all right!

The hill shone out upon the lights,
The snowflakes in their beds,--
Seeing the children falling,
Dreamed of skating and of sleds!
(My goodness!)

[Answers next time.]


Copyright © 2009 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

FEBRUARY and Other Verse

By L. Frank Baum
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Secret of the Lost Fortune, The Visitors from Oz, etc.

Originally published in Father Goose's Year Book, 1907.



February

This is the month the bashful youth
Invests in valentines, forsooth -
All decked with cupids, hearts and lyres -
To send the girl he most admires.

She gives the precious things a glance
Of scorn - perhaps of arrogance -
And hands them to her little brother
To send some school-girl friend or other.

The valentine does double duty -
Or triple, if it is a beauty;
So lovers, heed this wise advice:
Don't buy the things at any price.

-----------------------------------------

The Father of his Country
This very month, they say,
Was born, by some rare streak of luck,
On Washington's birthday.

Abe Lincoln, too, that famous man,
(It's quite extraordinary!)
Decided to be also born
The month of February!

So, children, don't forget the dates -
This is the way they're reckoned:
The fourteenth day for Abraham,
For George the twenty-second.

-----------------------------------------

A dear Christian lady
Played bridge for a prize;
The way she reneged
Would cause you surprise.

When asked if she didn't
Think "bridge" was a sin
She answered: "Oh, no;
For I prayed I would win!"



THE FORGETFUL POET
 
By Ruth Plumly Thompson 
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, November 24, 1918.


A Few Riddles to Crack With the Thanksgiving Nuts

I'm sure the Forgetful Poet must have sat up till almost 10 o'clock thinking of these riddles, and I confess that some of them I cannot guess. See what you can do with them:

Why is a shoe like you? Why is a tree like me?

To what piece of furniture is a potato related?

He says the next are words abbreviated. And I should say they were:
C 1492, D O, O P S, 4 A, 2 L, N 10 T.

Last week's answers: A street is like a crab because it has a sidewalk, and you keep the butter in the barn when it's a goat.

[Answers next time.]


Copyright © 2009 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.