THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING

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, March 9, 1919.


Through the bare boughs of the trees the bright plumage of the cardinal stood out with startling brilliancy. He skipped about from tree to tree seeking the best place for the nest. He and Mrs. Cardinal were going to set up housekeeping shortly, before all the multitude of songsters arrived. The robin, the catbird, the thrush, would all be here shortly, but he should find the best residence of all before they came. He flitted from branch to branch, so beautiful, so delighted at the approach of spring, his throat ever voicing his delight in a glad song.

The old house cat, Billy, lay drowsily enjoying the bright spring sunshine; he opened one eye and meditated on how long it would be before summer would make outdoor life agreeable, sleepily watched the cardinal and Mrs. Cardinal, who had started a conversation with two sparrows, chattering and quarreling as ever on the exact locality of their next home. It was advisable to move. The drain pipe under which they lived had started to leak and dripped down cold showers upon them whenever it started to rain. A squirrel came leaping across the grass and up the big cherry tree. Billy often tried to catch them, but now he was older he saw the foolishness and uselessness of chasing them as they passed so swiftly before his sight that sometimes he rubbed his eye with his paw and wondered whether he had really seen them at all. Jerry, the dog, also enjoyed the warm spring breeze and stalked across the lawn, taking a sniff in Billy's direction, but keeping his distance. Billy's claws were sharp and he resented any familiarity. Finally the cheerful song of the cardinal called to Mrs. Cardinal that he had found the place. He stopped to talk to Mr. Sparrow: "Why do you always quarrel? Is there not room enough for us all in these beautiful trees?" Mr. Sparrow looked at him thoughtfully. He commenced smoothing his feathers, as he felt positively ill-dressed and insignificant near this resplendent songster.

"'Tis better to find all the fault before you build!" he finally said. "Besides, you know, my throat seems only suited to chirping and fault-finding, but I mean well. Perhaps, Master Cardinal, what you say may be dismal, too, if we could understand it, but you have a presence and a voice and it sounds well!" The cardinal sighed and flew off to find more congenial company.

The site he had selected in the old oak tree was approved by Mrs. Cardinal, and they started after building material. Such funny material, too! Little thought the old pony that many of his long hairs would grace a cardinal's nest. Jerry contributed also and a nice piece of pussy's fur make the loveliest lining, all of these strange materials being woven together upon tiny twigs.

Old Mr. Sun, looking down through the branches of the tree at the cozy little home, called good-night. "You have made good use of this fine spring day!" said he, and so they had, my loves--so they had.

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, February 24, 1918.

Reasonable Riddles

I told the Forgetful Poet that I never heard of a reasonable riddle, but he says that they are the most reasonable things in the world, because they can always be answered.

"Then just kindly answer the ones you gave us last week!" I suggested, for to tell the truth more than one of his verses had puzzled me. "Certainly, certainly," said this singular gentleman, and rattled off the following: "Date, loaf, meat, bran, pear, jam, rye, preserves and bread."

"Do you know any more like that?" I asked, gloomily, "because - "

"There once was a man
Who felt aw'fly bad--
Such a terrible deep chested
-------? had er--"

Before he could start another one, I hastened to finish my sentence which had been cut short by his verse. "Because, if yo do, I hope you forget them!"

Without paying the slightest attention he rattled off another--

"Who'll -------- the depths of knowledge must
Go through a lot that's dry as dust!"

"Just fill in the places where I said blank with something to drink and something to eat!" he chuckled. "And now if you'll just excuse me, I'll be getting hence!" Which he proceeded to do. Can you tell me now what the the three finest letters in the alphabet? And can you tell me the sentence written here?

C U R 1 2 X L.

And the following words: y10--oacccc--z 10 u 8? R K D A.

For the neatest and most correctly spelled answer there will be a surprise. Send your letters to the Forgetful Poet, care of the Ledger.

[Answers next time. This is a historical presentation of Ruth Plumly Thompson's writing. Please don't send in any answers--no surprise will be awarded.]

Copyright © 2006 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

Verse from FATHER GOOSE'S YEAR BOOK

By L. Frank Baum
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Daughters of Destiny, The Visitors from Oz, etc.

Originally published in 1907.


A SPRING TRAGEDY:

Lovely, limber Lady Rake
Had the gardener's bed to make
When at morning she'd arise -
'Twas her daily exercise.

As she picked her way o'er the grass so gay
The tools all loved her, and they say

That the hammer lost his head,
And the anvil colored red,
Augur got to be a bore,
While the lawn adored her mower;
She refused the prying pick -
Made him dig out might quick!
Hatchet was too sharp, by far,
So she gave his edge a jar;
But the spade, as you might guess,
Won from her a gracious “"yes,"
And the tweezers, passing by,
Bound them with a railway tie.

But though wed they say Lady Rake got gay
And conducted herself in an indiscreet way:

Scraped acquaintance with a file,
On a shovel dared to smile,
Danced around with sickle keen
Cutting capers on the green!
So the spade soon got divorce -
From the tennis-court, of course;
She's a widow, now, alas!
Moral is: Keep off the Grass.


Hickory, dickory, dock;
The mouse ran up the clock
Of the maiden's stocking -
'Twas really shocking!
They heard her half a block.


A TERRIBLE TALE.

A maiden once sailed on the briny deep -
A wide-awake girl when she wasn't asleep;
The sea acted roughly, 'twas rude and 'twas wet.
And took a wild notion to fume and to fret
Till the ship and the girl were completely upset.

She floated ashore on a cannibal isle,
And the Cannibal King smole an amiable smile.
"I'll give you your choice," the savage one said,
"To be instantly married, or eaten, instead."
"I reckon," said she, "I prefer to be wed."

Now the cannibal planned, when he tired of his bride,
To serve her for luncheon, sliced thin and then fried;
But the girl had a far better scheme in her head:
She baked him a batch of her Cooking-School bread
And the cannibal's spirit immediately fled -
He was dead.


Sail-boat;
Boy afloat;
Sudden squall;
That's all.

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, February 3, 1918.

Riddles and Rhymes for Divers Times

Mr. Bookmarker writes that a word meaning injures will give you another of the fable folks, and that the beginning of a medicine boys and girls have to take after Christmas will give still another.

The answers to his last week's riddles are Atalanta, Paris and Pan, Saturn, Penelope, Pandora, Juno, and Thisbe. I wonder how many of you know the stories of these mythological folks?

Last week Mr. Forgetful Poet was eaten up by curiosity, and that is why he is still here, and bitten by the frost, which certainly has no teeth. Some more of his remarkable verses came in this week. He just can't resist the riddle department, and in spite of his many threats to send no more riddles, I am not worrying at all. Here, then, are his latest:
? ? ?
What have caps
That haven't heads?
What have sheets
And yet no beds?

What some people own,
And what some people rent
Will give you an author
Of humorous bent?

[You'll have to guess the answers yourself. No answers to these next time.]

Copyright © 2006 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

THE LAD WHO FOUND HIS FORTUNE

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

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, November 2, 1919.


Once upon a time there was a king who promised his daughter and half of his kingdom to the man who could find his fortunes in one hour and without going abroad.

After posting proclamations to this effect throughout the kingdom the old fellow retired, chuckling, to his throne.

"That will put a stop to this courting business!" he murmured contentedly. He had been pestered to death with the princess's suitors and, being extremely fond of his daughter, could not find it in his heart to favor any of them.

The princess herself, while not averse to marriage, had grown weary of the endless procession of dukes, lords, princes and honorables. Often she was even rash enough to wish for a plain man, for instance, like the minstrel who sometimes serenaded her in the evenings when the rest of the court had retired.

The proclamation caused a great excitement. Some took it to mean one thing and some another, and the dukes and lords and honorables were in a state of great perplexity. Most of them had fortunes already without seeking for them. What, then, did his majesty mean?

On the other hand, all the poor chaps in the realm were determined to win the princess, for it was perfectly clear to them that the king wished to bestow his daughter upon a poor man clever enough to find his fortunes in an hour.

The king refused to be interviewed, and while the fortune seekers were digging holes and climbing mountains and doing other various things they thought likely to bring them a fortune he and the princess played chess and enjoyed the first peace and quiet they had had for many a long day.

But one man in the kingdom neither sought information nor hunted for hidden gold mines. He ordered a fine suit from the most expensive tailor in the realm and when it was finished told the fellow he would be paid when he married the princess.

The tailor set up a loud clamor, but a few taps on the head convinced him that argument was useless.

Arrayed with great splendor and carrying his fiddle carelessly, the minstrel, for, honeys, it was none other than he, boldly walked into the palace.

"I have come to see the king about marrying the princess!" he announced to the head footman, who forthwith relayed it to the second footman, who in turn relayed it to the third, till at last the message got to the king himself. The king looked up in surprise, for he had thought the problem would keep the whole kingdom guessing for many a day. The princess was also surprised, but pleasantly so, judging from the roses that quite suddenly appeared in her cheeks. Without wasting words the brave minstrel made a deep bow then, seizing his violin, began to play.

At the first bar the king grew pale with dismay, but as the tune progresse4d he began to tap his foot in time to the music.

From one piece the minstrel hastily went to another, at which the king's amazement was unbounded.

The minstrel played on with great composure until he had finished four tunes then, putting aside his violin, he looked expectantly at the king.

"Well?" said the minstrel.

The princess also looked at the king with such a happy light in her eyes that the old gentleman fidgeted upon his throne.

"Does this person seem suitable to you, my dear?" he asked faintly.

The princess inclined her head ever so slightly.

"Then let the marriage be celebrated!" sighed the king. And it was, with great pomp and ceremony, for the minstrel had found his (the king) four tunes in less than an hour and without going abroad.

"But how did you know my meaning?" the king asked him over and over. The prince (yes, he was a prince now you see) only smiled and said music was a wonderful art, especially when you knew how to use it. I'd tell you the name of the four tunes the king loved so well, but I'm afraid you would not recognize them, for this all happened a thousand years ago, and in a kingdom you have never heard of.

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, January 27, 1918.

Riddles

The answer to Mr. Bookmarker's puzzle is Huckleberry Finn, while in the Forgetful Poet's verses a tomahawk and the word foresee - 4-c - were referred to.
Mr. Bookmarker is spending the month in Bulfinch's Mythology. See how many of the mythological fable folks you can find. He says that a city of our southern States will give you one, a city of France another and a cooking utensil still another. The following words combined and correctly arranged will give five more:

sat
pen
elope
urn
pan
oh
June
this
a
door
be

And what do you make of these?

I was eaten up
And yet am here;
Now, can you just
Explain this, dear?

By a thing without teeth
I was bitten,
Just a while before
This rhyme was written?

[Answers next time.]

Copyright © 2006 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

TIK-TOK AND THE NOME KING

By L. Frank Baum
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Daughters of Destiny, The Visitors from Oz, etc.

Originally published in 1913.


The Nome King was unpleasantly angry. He had carelessly bitten his tongue at breakfast and it still hurt; so he roared and raved and stamped around in his underground palace in a way that rendered him very disagreeable.

It so happened that on this unfortunate day Tiktok, the Clockwork Man, visited the Nome King to ask a favor. Tiktok lived in the Land of Oz, and although he was an active and important person, he was made entirely of metal. Machinery within him, something like the works of a clock, made him move; other machinery made him talk; still other machinery made him think.

Although so cleverly constructed, the Clockwork Man was far from perfect. Three separate keys wound up his motion machinery, his speech works, and his thoughts. One or more of these contrivances was likely to run down at a critical moment, leaving poor Tiktok helpless. Also some of his parts were wearing out, through much use, and just now his thought machinery needed repair. The skillful little Wizard of Oz had tinkered with Tiktok's thoughts without being able to get them properly regulated, so he had advised the Clockwork Man to go to the Nome King and secure a new set of springs, which would render his thoughts more elastic and responsive.

"Be careful what you say to the Nome King," warned the wizard. "He has a bad temper and the least little thing makes him angry."

Tiktok promised, and the Wizard wound his machinery and set him walking in the direction of the Nome King's dominions, just across the desert from the Land of Oz. He ran down just as he reached the entrance to the underground palace, and there Kaliko, the Nome King's Chief Steward, found him and wound him up again.

"I want to see the King," said Tiktok, in his jerky voice.

"Well," remarked Kaliko, "it may be safe for a cast-iron person like you to face his Majesty this morning, but you must announce yourself, for should I show my face inside the jewel-studded cavern where the King is now raving, I'd soon look like a dish of mashed potatoes, and be of no further use to anyone."

"I'm not a-fraid," said Tiktok.

"Then walk in and make yourself at home," answered Kaliko, and threw open the door of the Kings's cavern.

Tiktok promptly walked in and faced the astonished Nome King, to whom he said: "good morn-ing. I want two new steel springs for my thought-works and a new cog-wheel for my speech-pro-du-cer. How a-bout it, your Maj-es-ty?"

The Nome King growled a menacing growl and his eyes were red with rage.

"How dare you enter my presence?" he shouted.

"I dare an-y-thing," said Tiktok. "I'm not a-fraid of a fat Nome."

This was true, yet an unwise speech. Had Tiktok's thoughts been in good working order he would have said something else. The angry Nome King quickly caught up his heavy mace and hurled it straight at Tiktok. When it struck the metal man's breast, the force of the blow burst the bolts which held the plates of his body together and they clattered to the floor in a score of pieces. Hundreds and hundreds of wheels, pins, cogs and springs filled the air like a cloud and then rattled like hail upon the floor.

Where Tiktok had stood was now only a scrap-heap and the Nome King was so amazed by the terrible effects of his blow that he stared in wonder.

His Majesty's anger quickly cooled. He remembered that the Clockwork Man was a favorite subject of the powerful Princess, Ozma of Oz, who would be sure to resent Tiktok's ruin.

"Too bad! too bad!" he muttered, regretfully. "I'm really sorry I made junk of the fellow. I didn't know he'd break."

"You'd better be," remarked Kaliko, who now ventured to enter the room. "You'll have a war on your hands when Ozma hears of this, and the chances are you will lose your throne and your kingdom."

The Nome King turned pale, for he loved to rule the Nomes and did not know of any other way to earn a living in case Ozma fought and conquered him.

"Do--do you think Ozma will be angry?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm sure of it," said Kaliko. "And she has the right to be. You've made scrap-iron of her favorite."

The King groaned.

"Sweep him up and throw the rubbish into the black pit," he commanded; and then he shut himself up in his private den and for days would see no one, because he was so ashamed of his unreasoning anger and so feared the results of his rash act.

Kaliko swept up the pieces, but he did not throw them into the black pit. Being a clever and skillful mechanic he determined to fit the pieces together again.

No man ever faced a greater puzzle; but it was interesting work and Kaliko succeeded. When he found a spring or wheel worn or imperfect, he made a new one.

Within two weeks, by working steadily night and day, the Chief Steward completed his task and put the three sets of clockwork and the last rivet into Tiktok's body. He then would up the motion machinery, and the Clockwork Man walked up and down the room as naturally as ever. Then Kaliko wound up the thought works and the speech regulator and said to Tiktok:

"How do you feel now?"

"Fine," said the Clockwork Man. "You have done a ve-ry good job, Kal-i-ko, and saved me from de-struc-tion. Much o-bliged."

"Don't mention it," replied the Chief Steward. "I quite enjoyed the work."

Just then the Nome King's gong sounded, and Kaliko rushed away through the jewel-studded cavern and into the den where the King had hidden, leaving the doors ajar.

"Kaliko," said the King, in a meek voice. "I've been shut up here long enough to repent bitterly the destruction of Tiktok. Of course Ozma will have revenge, and send an army to fight us, but we must take our medicine. One thing comforts me: Tiktok wasn't really a live person; he was only a machine man, and so it wasn't very wicked to stop his clockworks. I couldn't sleep nights, at first, for worry; but there's no more harm in smashing a machine man than in breaking a wax doll. Don't you think so?"

"I am too humble to think in the presence of your Majesty," said Kaliko.

"Then get me something to eat," commanded the King, "for I'm nearly starved. Two roasted goats, a barrel of cakes and nine mince pies will do me until dinnertime."

Kaliko bowed and hurried away to the royal kitchen, forgetting Tiktok, who was wandering around in the outer cavern. Suddenly the Nome King looked up and saw the Clockwork Man standing before him, and at the sight the monarch's eyes grew big and round and he fell a-trembling in every limb.

"Away, grim Shadow!" he cried. "You're not here, you know; you're only a hash of cogwheels and springs, lying at the bottom of the black pit. Vanish, thou Vision of the demolished Tiktok, and leave me in peace---for I have bitterly repented!"

"Then beg my pardon," said Tiktok in a gruff voice, for Kaliko had forgotten to oil the speech works.

But the sound of a voice coming from what he thought a mere vision was too much for the Nome King's shaken nerves. He gave a yell of fear and rushed from the room. Tiktok followed, so the King bolted through the corridors on a swift run and bumped against Kaliko, who was returning with a tray of things to eat. The sound of the breaking dishes, as they struck the floor, added to the King's terror and he yelled again and dashed into a great cavern where a thousand Nomes were at work hammering metal.

"Look out! Here comes a phantom clockwork man!" screamed the terrified monarch, and every Nome dropped his tools and made a rush from the cavern, knocking over their King in their mad flight and recklessly trampling upon his prostrate fat body. So, when Tiktok came into the cavern, there was only the Nome King left, and he was rolling upon the rocky floor and howling for mercy, with his eyes fast shut so that he could not see what he was sure was a dreadful phantom that was coming straight toward him.

"It occurs to me," said Tiktok calmly, "that your Maj-es-ty is acting like a baby. I am not a phan-tom. A phan-tom is unreal, while I am the real thing."

The King rolled over, sat up and opened his eyes.

"Didn't I smash you to pieces?" he asked in trembling tones.

"Yes," said Tiktok.

"Then you are nothing but a junk-heap, and this form in which you now appear cannot be real."

"It is, though," declared Tiktok. "Kal-i-ko picked up my piec-es and put me to-geth-er a-gain. I'm as good as new, and perhaps bet-ter."

"That is true, your Majesty," added Kaliko, who now made his appearance, "and I hope you will forgive me for mending Tiktok. He was quite broken up, after you smashed him, and I found it almost as hard a job to match his pieces as to pick turnips from gooseberry bushes. But I did it," he added proudly.

"You are forgiven," announced the Nome King, rising to his feet and drawing a long breath. "I will raise your wages one specto a year and Tiktok shall return to the Land of Oz loaded with jewels for the Princess Ozma."

"That is all right," said Tiktok. "But what I want to know is, why did you hit me with your mace?"

"Because I was angry," admitted the King. "When I am angry I always do something that I am sorry for afterward. So I have firmly resolved never to get angry again; unless---unless---"

"Unless what, your Majesty?" inquired Kaliko.

"Unless something annoys me," said the Nome King. And then he went to his treasure-chamber to get the jewels for Princess Ozma of Oz.

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, January 20, 1918.

Puzzles

Mr. Bookmaker sent his private secretary to tell me that he had only time to find one riddle. The secretary wriggled off so fast I couldn't think of a thing to say. A bookworm does make a comical secretary, don't you think?

Well, anyway, here is the riddle:

What fruit plus part of a fish equals a book you all know?

The answers to last week's riddles were written below and here they are: Robinson Crusoe's man Friday, Robin Hood, Jane Eyre, and Gulliver.

The Forgetful Poet evidently relented and decided to send us an occasional riddle. Here are two of them, which he sent in written on the back of an envelope:

? ?

A lad's name, my loves,
And the name of a bird
Gives a weapon of which
I am sure you have heard.

? ?

Take a figure and a letter
And the two will make a word -
The first you;ll find ;twixt one and ten,
The last you;ll find is third!

[Answers next time.]

Copyright © 2006 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

URASHIMA AND THE PRINCESS OF THE SEA

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

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, March 31, 1918.


What would you say if I told you the story of a fisherlad who caught a - but pshaw - I must begin it right and at the proper place. Once - once upon a time in the little Japanese village of Midzunoe live Urashima, a poor fisherman, but for all that as bright and happy a boy as many who wore silken coats and sipped tea in the Mikado's palace. He loved to watch the boats billowing out to sea, and longed to sail away with them and seek adventures. But he had no money, and besides, his old parents were dependent upon him, so he put such desires aside and worked industriously in order to support them.

One day Urashima, yielding to the tug of his line, drew it in and found he had caught a tortoise. As tortoises live for many thousand years it seemed cruel to Urashima to deprive it of such a life. He therefore put it gently back in the sea, rebaited his hook and waited for another bite.

The air was so drowsy and the sun so warm that first thing you know Urashima had fallen asleep. He dreamed that his own little boat was speeding off toward the islands of the sun, and so pleasant were his adventures that there's no knowing when he would have awakened had not a sweet voice called him by name. Over and over, with soft persistence, it called, "Urashima! Urashima!"

He jumped to his feet, almost upsetting his boat, and looked all around. At first there seemed no one in sight, but following the sound of the voice, he saw, at last, the very tortoise he had restored to the sea. And stranger still it was speaking to him! It thanked him graciously for his kindness and invited him to climb upon its back and visit the palace of the Sea Dragon. Without a moment's hesitation and thinking only of the wonderful adventure it might prove Urashima accepted, and was soon dropping down, down through the green waters past all manner of curious and beautiful sea creatures.

When they arrived at the palace set in the center of the gardens of the sea they were met by a whole company of fish, who led the way into an inner apartment. Seated among her ladies was Otohime, the Princess of the Sea, and so beautiful was she that Urashima was struck dumb, and could do nothing but half mumble his respects. And imagine his embarrassment and his amazement when she explained that she had been the tortoise he had so thoughtfully thrown back into the water. She said that it was a test, and that she was now satisfied that he was kind and generous and worthy in every way to be the husband of her honorable self! She begged him to remain forever in her beautiful country where one never grew old and where it was always summer.

Feeling in no wise deserving of such honor, Urashima, nevertheless, accepted and the ceremony was performed at once and with all manner of festivals and rejoicings. Gold and silver fishes, clad in jeweled robes, sang and danced to amuse them and strange and wonderful viands were brought upon coral trays for their refreshment. It seemed to Urashima that he was living in a glorious golden dream and he trembled lest he awaken and find it untrue.

But nothing of the kind happened. All that day, and the next, and the next he was bewitched by his increasingly lovely surroundings and the sweet and gentle Sea Princess, his wife. On the third day Urashima suddenly remembered his parents and was overcome at the manner in which he had deserted them. I will return and explain to them my great good fortune, he thought to himself, and lost no time in telling the Princes of his desires.

The poor little Princess wept bitterly and begged Urashima not to leave her, or to delay but another day. He comforted her as best he could, but would not allow himself to be dissuaded from what he considered to be his duty. When the Princess saw that nothing would deter him she gave him a tiny jeweled box, bidding him on no account to open it till his return. Promising to be back in a day and kissing her with deep affection, Urashima set forth on a large tortoise and was soon back in his own country.

But everything was strange. The trees that he remembered were nowhere to be seen, the cottage of his parents had vanished and in dismay Urashima accosted a passer-by and begged to know what had happened to them. The man thought for a long time, then told him that a family of that name had lived there three hundred years ago. Their son, Urashima, had fallen into the sea and perished and that now all of the family were dead many, many years.

Bewildered and scarcely knowing where to turn, Urashima sank down on the beach and lost himself in gloomy reflections. Too late he recalled that a day in the Sea Kingdom was not an earthly day, but a hundred years. With great sorrow, he realized that he had not a friend or relation on earth. The sea lapping gently at his feet seemed teasing him back, and thinking of his beautiful sea-wife, Urashima resolved to return. He called her name loudly, but no tortoise came to bear him back to her and in despair he bethought himself of the little jeweled box. Breathlessly he untied the silken thread, and in that minute a white cloud escaped from it and rolled far away over the sea, while Urashima - Urashima, young and handsome, shriveled into a yellow old man, falling dead upon the sands. I wish that he had not broken his promise. Perhaps, if he had waited--

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, January 13, 1918.

Some Bookish Riddles

"I hear that the Forgetful Poet has resigned from the riddle department," said Mr. Bookmarker, hopping up on my desk the other day. I explained that the Forgetful Poet had to have more time for serious verses. The bookmarker closed one eye and tapped his forehead in a very significant manner, then drew a paper from his pocket. "Here are a few riddles to help you out." Before I could say thank you or Happy New Year or anything at all he had disappeared.

I know you will be interested in his riddles and here they are:

What day of the week will give you a character in a favorite book of adventures?

What bird, plus a covering for the head, will give you another well-known English book hero?

What we breathe will give the last name of a well-known book girl.

A bird and an organ of the body will give a hero we all know well and whose travels we have all read with interest.

Last week's answers were: Scales, runner, current - shells are found at the shore. A road is like a clock because it winds up and runs down, and a fisherman is like a jailer because they both live by catches.

[Answers next time.]

Copyright © 2006 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

MY DEAR MRS. BOOTHE

By L. Frank Baum
Author of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Daughters of Destiny, The Visitors from Oz, etc.

Originally published in The Baum Bugle, Vol. 1, No. 2, October 1957. Baum sent this verse as a letter to Mrs. C. B. Boothe on June 26, 1910. Notice the Oz reference--Imogene the cow was Dorothy Gale's companion from Kansas in the 1903 Broadway musical of The Wizard of Oz.


My dear Mrs. Boothe,
I'm grateful in truth
For that delicatessence of cheese.
The moment I viewed it
Before e'en I chewed it,
I knew it my palate would please.

So dainty and creamy,
So luscious and dreamy
Were those precious golf balls of cheese;
I scarce had the gumption
To test their consumption,
My appetite's lust to appease.

I'm sure that the "Dutch"
Never made any such;
No "cottage" could turn out such cheese.
While "schmeer-case" and "curd"
Are both, on my word,
Excelled by your product with ease.

Epicurean pride
Should have made me divide,
With those who for portions might tease;
But like a Jack Horner
I went in a corner
And gobbled up all of that cheese!

Of bovines the queen
Is our dear Imogene,
From her was extracted the squeeze
Which by your direction
Became that perfection:
The Boothe brand of Angel Food Cheese.

I thank you indeed
For that wonderful feed;
'Twas better by many degrees
Than any I've had
Since, when as a lad,
I feasted on "Ma's Cottage Cheese!"

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, January 6, 1918.

A Round of Riddles

The Forgetful Poet says he hopes Mr. G. Ography will soon return, because you are too much for him, and there's no fun writing riddles you can guess. Besides, he says he must get back to his serious poetry. (Help!)

Last week's answers were: A wave, bee, bird, toad and cat.
? ? ? ? ?
Part of a fish is used in weighing,
An athlete in used in sleighing;
Part of a river's a very fine fruit,
Also in a river's a boy's name, to boot.

Why is a road like a clock?

What necessity of war
Is found at the shore?

The third letter from the end of the alphabet, a measure and a boy's name will give a word meaning anticipation.

Why is a fisherman like a jailer?
Please send your answers to the Forgetful Poet in care of the Boys' and Girls' Department.

[Answers next time. This is a historical presentation of Ruth Plumly Thompson's writing. No prizes will be awarded, so don't send anything in.]

Copyright © 2006 Eric Shanower and David Maxine. All rights reserved.

CHRISTMAS VERSE

By Ruth Plumly Thompson
Author of The Curious Cruise of Captain Santa, "The Wizard of Pumperdink", "King, King! Double King!", etc.

Originally published in the Phiadelphia Public Ledger. 


It's the Sandman's Fault
[Dec. 24, 1916]

No wonder boys and girls have such
A time to go to sleep
On Christmas Eve, and have to count
Almost a million sheep!
Why, the Sandman has so many gifts
For folks in High Sky Land
Tucked in his sack, there's scarcely
Any room for dreams and sand!
And then he stops, the merry elf,
To trim the Milky Way
With greens and wish each separate star
A happy holiday;
And pins his stocking to a cloud
For Santa Claus to fill -
I think we'll have to 'scuse him, though,
I really think we will!

Untitled
[Dec. 2, 1917]

The first of December
Is horribly long,
Every day seems a week,
Don't you know!
There isn't a boy or a girl
Who'll not say
That the first of the month
Is too slow!
But goodness alive,
Take the end of the month,
Christmas week,
Why, it seems like a day!
Now this hardly is fair,
And I'm wishing that there
Were some sort of a plan
Or a way
To remedy matters.
I think I'll just see
If the calendar man
Can arrange
To turn them about
And stretch Christmas week out
For I'm sure we're in need
Of the change!

Untitled
[December 23, 1917]

You funny old Christmas moon,
Why do you frown?
Is it 'cause you've no chimney
For Kris to come down?

A Letter From a Good Boy
[December 23, 1917]

Dear old Man,
I'd like a cake of good, strong soap,
A rat trap, safety pins,
A real stiff whisk, a saucepan,
And a lot to eat, in tins,
A dozen pair of woolen socks,
And after that some smokes,
But more than anything, old man,
A letter from the folks!
--Sammy.

Old Santa's bag was full of notes
Like this, and at their benches
His brownies filled the orders for
The good boys in the trenches.

THE FORGETFUL POET

By Ruth Plumly Thompson

Originally published in the Philadelphia Public Ledger, December 30, 1917.

A Pocketful of Rhymes

And a riddle in each, or so the Forgetful Poet tells me.
? ? ? ? ?
It breaks a million times a day
And still is not destroyed,
And, strange enough, it's breaking
Is by old and young enjoyed!

All the blanks walk, swim or fly
? ? ? ? ?
There was a lad
Who rose _____ times,
For he had much to do;
His _____en was
Su_____ent for
A lad of his age, too.

He _____ the mark
And if you're like
The laddie in this story.
I'll just include you
In this space
And place and _____egory!

Last week's answers were Wales and Finland. As for the pets, the Forgetful Poet sent me this list. I am sure that many of you found more than he did: Pet, an animal, or term of endearment, petrify, impetus, impetuous, petticoat, parapet, petal, petty, petiole, pettish, petulant and pettifog.

[Answers next time.]

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