generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) the practical joke; or the christmas story of uncle ned. [illustration] new york: published by j. s. redfield, clinton hall. the practical joke. welcome, merry christmas and new-year! prized by children above all other days in the year. ye are associated with pleasant recollections of old santa claus and sugar-plums--with bright visions of a cheerful fireside, merry games, pleasant stories, and happy, smiling faces. first comes christmas eve, when each young face beams with eager curiosity and delightful anticipation--all wondering and guessing what they shall find in their stockings next morning; while the eldest sister, with looks of mystery and of importance, shares her mother's councils, and helps to distribute the precious stores. soon they are in bed, anxious to sleep off the long hours, dreaming of rocking-horses and doll-babies, tea-sets, wooden soldiers, and all the other delights of the toy-shop. i never heard of a lazy child on a christmas morning. the idle and the industrious are all up, "bright and early." the well-filled stockings are eagerly inspected, good wishes and pretty or useful presents given and received, and various plans proposed for the day's amusement. night comes too soon for the tireless lovers of fun, who go unwillingly to bed, consoling themselves that one week more will bring new-year. [illustration: kind little girls relieving the poor.] dear children, long may such innocent delights crown the year; and, in the midst of all, forget not the children of the famishing poor, who have no christmas pleasures to look forward to; whose parents toil for their daily bread and scanty apparel all the year, and have no time nor means to provide themselves or their children with the comforts and luxuries you enjoy. each one can spare a little to minister to the enjoyment of those poor suffering children, many of whom, perhaps, have no fathers to provide for them, some of them not even a home to shelter them. share with them your abundance, and the blessings of the poor shall rest upon you. and now, my patient little readers, for the story. one christmas night we were all gathered around a cheerful fire in the old-fashioned parlor. father, mother, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, and cousins, were all there. the blazing pine knots sent a cheerful light into every nook and corner of the big room; the ponderous presses, and quaint old desk and bookcase, reflecting the warm glow from their polished surfaces. the straight, high-backed, mahogany chairs had been sadly knocked about in a game of blind-man's-buff, and looked as much out of place as a prim old maiden aunt in a game of romps. nut-shells and apple-parings, kiss-papers and mottoes, strewed the broad hearth, and gave pretty good token of the evening's cheer. the clock had just struck ten, and we youngsters were warned that it was bedtime, when there arose a loud call for a story. a story from uncle ned! we might all sit up to hear a story, if uncle ned would tell one. he, good soul, never refused a kind request in his life, and we felt quite safe for the next half hour. i think i see him now, with his trim leg encased in a fine home-knit stocking--his bright shoe-buckles, and neat drab small-clothes--his queer-looking continental hat, with his gray locks appearing beneath it, and his hands resting upon the head of his silver-mounted cane. [illustration: portrait of uncle ned.] the chairs were set in their places, stragglers called in, and all were seated in silence to hear. [illustration] uncle ned's story. "many years ago, when i was a slip of a lad like tom there"--"why, uncle," cried little willy in amazement, "did you say you were no bigger than tom? were you ever as little as tom, uncle?"--"hush, willy," said tom, a well-grown boy of fourteen, "i'm sure you need not make such a wonderment at that; i am not so very small, and i expect to be as big as uncle ned when i'm a man. how naughty of you to interrupt the story!" [illustration: ned and his companions at the pond.] "well, willy," said uncle ned, "i don't suppose i look much now as if i had once been a slender lad, with a soft fair brow, and rosy cheeks; but i was as full of fun and frolic as the best of you. i will tell you how i once came near losing my own life and that of a friend and playmate, by my love of mischief. it was a christmas night. we were gathered round the fire just as we now are, cracking nuts, eating apples, and telling stories, when i proposed to jack thornton, and his little brother, that we should go for a skating frolic to 'the pond,' a beautiful sheet of water about a quarter of a mile distant. instantly we were in motion, looking up our skates and mittens. off we started, in high glee, promising ourselves fine fun on the ice. the moon shone brilliantly--every object could be seen with perfect distinctness. the little pond, which was supplied with the purest spring water, looked like a sheet of silver, sparkling in the moonlight. i well remember looking down through the clear and beautifully transparent ice, and seeing the pond-lilies, with their broad leaves of tender green, mingled with rushes and long grass, while the little fish danced like beams of silver-light in the clear water. the pond was of no great extent, but toward the middle it was quite deep, and formed a fine broad sheet of ice for skating. [illustration: ned rescuing jack from drowning.] "i remembered having seen the day before an air-hole near a rock on the opposite shore. i had tried the ice near it, and found it strong enough to bear my weight; and concluding that by this time it was quite thick enough to bear two or three, i determined to play a trick upon jack, who was exceedingly good natured, but a great brag. nobody could outwit him, he thought. 'come, jack,' said i, 'follow me, and i will take you where you are afraid to go.'--'i afraid!' said he, 'catch me afraid--i can go anywhere you can--go ahead!' away we shot, like swallows, toward the fatal air-hole. 'follow me,' i cried; 'keep up with me if you can.' thus stimulated, jack kept close in my rear. my object was to avoid the air-hole myself, and just give one of jack's legs a ducking, without doing him any further injury. we wheeled in circles round and round, until, making a quick sweep, and calling upon him to keep close, i dexterously made a slight curve so as to avoid the hole, but down went poor jack, one leg and foot quite buried in the freezing element. it was a favorite trick with the knowing ones, and was never taken amiss. but in this case the joke was carried too far. jack pulled and struggled to draw out his foot, when suddenly the ice gave way, and down he sank into the deep water. i knew he could not swim--neither could i. i was aware it would not do to attempt to get him out by going near him on the ice, as our efforts would only crack the ice and throw me in too. but, as quick as thought, i ran on shore, threw off my skates, went to the edge of the rock, where fortunately he was within my reach, and, after many unsuccessful attempts, i succeeded in drawing him out. poor jack was almost exhausted; but i got him home, and he was undressed and put to bed. a severe fit of sickness followed from the cold he took that night. aunt dorothy always insisted that his sickness might have been prevented, if she had been permitted to give him a dose of her hot-drops, which she always kept by her--a specific for all complaints. but the physician who was called positively forbade it. physicians do not like to have persons who are ignorant of the nature of diseases, and their proper remedies, tampering with the human frame. although in some instances they may relieve in mild attacks, they often do a great deal of harm by giving favorite quack medicines, indiscriminately, for all complaints. however, by good nursing, jack soon got well; and we received a good lesson, which i have never forgotten, in the almost fatal termination of the 'practical joke.'" [illustration: the physician and aunt dorothy.] [illustration] max and maurice a juvenile history in seven tricks, by william busch. from the german by charles t. brooks. boston: little, brown, and company, 1902. entered according to act of congress, in the year 1870, by roberts brothers, in the office of the librarian of congress at washington _copyright, 1898,_ by little, brown, and company. university press . john wilson and son . cambridge u.s.a. max and maurice. preface. [illustration] ah, how oft we read or hear of boys we almost stand in fear of! for example, take these stories of two youths, named max and maurice, who, instead of early turning their young minds to useful learning, often leered with horrid features at their lessons and their teachers. look now at the empty head: he is for mischief always ready. teasing creatures, climbing fences, stealing apples, pears, and quinces, is, of course, a deal more pleasant, and far easier for the present, than to sit in schools or churches, fixed like roosters on their perches. but o dear, o dear, o deary, when the end comes sad and dreary! 'tis a dreadful thing to tell that on max and maurice fell! all they did this book rehearses, both in pictures and in verses. trick first. [illustration] to most people who have leisure raising poultry gives great pleasure first, because the eggs they lay us for the care we take repay us; secondly, that now and then we can dine on roasted hen; thirdly, of the hen's and goose's feathers men make various uses. some folks like to rest their heads in the night on feather beds. one of these was widow tibbets, whom the cut you see exhibits. [illustration] hens were hers in number three, and a cock of majesty. max and maurice took a view; fell to thinking what to do. one, two, three! as soon as said, they have sliced a loaf of bread, cut each piece again in four, each a finger thick, no more. these to two cross-threads they tie, like a letter x they lie in the widow's yard, with care stretched by those two rascals there. [illustration] [illustration] scarce the cock had seen the sight, when he up and crew with might: cock-a-doodle-doodle-doo;- tack, tack, tack, the trio flew. [illustration] cock and hens, like fowls unfed, gobbled each a piece of bread; [illustration] but they found, on taking thought, each of them was badly caught. [illustration] every way they pull and twitch, this strange cat's-cradle to unhitch; [illustration] up into the air they fly, jiminee, o jimini! [illustration] on a tree behold them dangling, in the agony of strangling! and their necks grow long and longer, and their groans grow strong and stronger. [illustration] each lays quickly one egg more, then they cross to th' other shore. [illustration] widow tibbets in her chamber, by these death-cries waked from slumber, [illustration] rushes out with bodeful thought: heavens! what sight her vision caught! [illustration] from her eyes the tears are streaming: "oh, my cares, my toil, my dreaming! ah, life's fairest hope," says she, "hangs upon that apple-tree." [illustration] heart-sick (you may well suppose), for the carving-knife she goes; cuts the bodies from the bough, hanging cold and lifeless now and in silence, bathed in tears, through her house-door disappears. [illustration] this was the bad boys' first trick, but the second follows quick. trick second. when the worthy widow tibbets (whom the cut below exhibits) had recovered, on the morrow, from the dreadful shock of sorrow, she (as soon as grief would let her think) began to think 'twere better just to take the dead, the dear ones (who in life were walking here once), and in a still noonday hour them, well roasted, to devour. true, it did seem almost wicked, when they lay so bare and naked, picked, and singed before the blaze,- they that once in happier days, in the yard or garden ground, all day long went scratching round. ah! frau tibbets wept anew, and poor spitz was with her, too. [illustration] [illustration] max and maurice smelt the savor. "climb the roof!" cried each young shaver. [illustration] through the chimney now, with pleasure, they behold the tempting treasure, headless, in the pan there, lying, hissing, browning, steaming, frying. [illustration] at that moment down the cellar (dreaming not what soon befell her) widow tibbets went for sour krout, which she would oft devour with exceeding great desire (warmed a little at the fire). up there on the roof, meanwhile, they are doing things in style. max already with forethought a long fishing-line has brought. [illustration] schnupdiwup! there goes, o jeminy! one hen dangling up the chimney. schnupdiwup! a second bird! schnupdiwup! up comes the third! presto! number four they haul! schnupdiwup! we have them all!- spitz looks on, we must allow, but he barks: row-wow! row-wow! [illustration] but the rogues are down instanter from the roof, and off they canter.- ha! i guess there'll be a humming; here's the widow tibbets coming! rooted stood she to the spot, when the pan her vision caught. [illustration] gone was every blessed bird! "horrid spitz!" was her first word. [illustration] "o you spitz, you monster, you! let me beat him black and blue!" [illustration] and the heavy ladle, thwack! comes down on poor spitz's back! loud he yells with agony, for he feels his conscience free. [illustration] max and maurice, dinner over, in a hedge, snored under cover; and of that great hen-feast now each has but a leg to show * * * * * this was now the second trick, but the third will follow quick. trick third. through the town and country round was one mr. buck renowned. [illustration] sunday coats, and week-day sack-coats, bob-tails, swallow-tails, and frock coats, gaiters, breeches, hunting-jackets; waistcoats, with commodious pockets,- and other things, too long to mention, claimed mr. tailor buck's attention. or, if any thing wanted doing in the way of darning, sewing, piecing, patching,--if a button needed to be fixed or put on,- any thing of any kind, anywhere, before, behind,- master buck could do the same, for it was his life's great aim. therefore all the population held him high in estimation. max and maurice tried to invent ways to plague this worthy gent. right before the sartor's dwelling ran a swift stream, roaring, swelling. [illustration] this swift stream a bridge did span, and the road across it ran. [illustration] max and maurice (naught could awe them!) took a saw, when no one saw them: ritze-ratze! riddle-diddle! sawed a gap across the middle. when this feat was finished well, suddenly was heard a yell: [illustration] "hallo, there! come out, you buck! tailor, tailor, muck! muck! muck!" buck could bear all sorts of jeering, jibes and jokes in silence hearing; but this insult roused such anger, nature couldn't stand it longer. [illustration] wild with fury, up he started, with his yard-stick out he darted; for once more that frightful jeer, "muck! muck! muck!" rang loud and clear. [illustration] on the bridge one leap he makes; crash! beneath his weight it breaks. [illustration] once more rings the cry, "muck! muck!" _in_, headforemost, plumps poor buck! while the scared boys were skedaddling, down the brook two geese came paddling. [illustration] on the legs of these two geese, with a death-clutch, buck did seize; [illustration] and, with both geese _well in hand_, flutters out upon dry land. [illustration] for the rest he did not find things exactly to his mind. [illustration] soon it proved poor buck had brought a dreadful belly-ache from the water. [illustration] noble mrs. buck! she rises fully equal to the crisis; with a hot flat-iron, she draws the cold out famously. [illustration] soon 'twas in the mouths of men, all through town: "buck's up again!" * * * * * this was the bad boys' third trick, but the fourth will follow quick. trick fourth. an old saw runs somewhat so: man must learn while here below.- not alone the a, b, c, raises man in dignity; not alone in reading, writing, reason finds a work inviting; not alone to solve the double rule of three shall man take trouble: but must hear with pleasure sages teach the wisdom of the ages. [illustration] of this wisdom an example to the world was master lämpel. for this cause, to max and maurice this man was the chief of horrors; for a boy who loves bad tricks wisdom's friendship never seeks. with the clerical profession smoking always was a passion; and this habit without question, while it helps promote digestion, is a comfort no one can well begrudge a good old man, when the day's vexations close, and he sits to seek repose.- max and maurice, flinty-hearted, on another trick have started; thinking how they may attack a poor old man through his tobacco. once, when sunday morning breaking, pious hearts to gladness waking, poured its light where, in the temple, at his organ sate herr lämpel, [illustration] these bad boys, for mischief ready, stole into the good man's study, where his darling meerschaum stands. this, max holds in both his hands; [illustration] while young maurice (scapegrace born!) climbs, and gets the powderhorn, and with speed the wicked soul pours the powder in the bowl. hush, and quick! now, right about! for already church is out. [illustration] lämpel closes the church-door, glad to seek his home once more; [illustration] all his service well got through, takes his keys, and music too, and his way, delighted, wends homeward to his silent friends. full of gratitude he there lights his pipe, and takes his chair. [illustration] [illustration] "ah!" he says, "no joy is found like contentment on earth's round!" [illustration] fizz! whizz! bum! the pipe is burst, almost shattered into dust. coffee-pot and water-jug, snuff-box, ink-stand, tumbler, mug, table, stove, and easy-chair, all are flying through the air in a lightning-powder-flash, with a most tremendous crash. [illustration] when the smoke-cloud lifts and clears, lämpel on his back appears; god be praised! still breathing there, only somewhat worse for wear. [illustration] nose, hands, eyebrows (once like yours), now are black as any moor's; burned the last thin spear of hair, and his pate is wholly bare. who shall now the children guide, lead their steps to wisdom's side? who shall now for master lämpel lead the service in the temple? now that his old pipe is out, shattered, smashed, _gone up the spout_? [illustration] time will heal the rest once more, but the pipe's best days are o'er. * * * * * this was the bad boys' fourth trick, but the fifth will follow quick. trick fifth. if, in village or in town, you've an uncle settled down, always treat him courteously; uncle will be pleased thereby. in the morning: "'morning to you! any errand i can do you?" fetch whatever he may need,- pipe to smoke, and news to read; or should some confounded thing prick his back, or bite, or sting, nephew then will be near by, ready to his help to fly; or a pinch of snuff, maybe, sets him sneezing violently: "prosit! uncle! good health to you! god be praised! much good may't do you!" or he comes home late, perchance: pull his boots off then at once, fetch his slippers and his cap, and warm gown his limbs to wrap. be your constant care, good boy, what shall give your uncle joy. max and maurice (need i mention?) had not any such intention. see now how they tried their wits- these bad boys--on uncle fritz. what kind of a bird a may bug was, _they_ knew, i dare say; [illustration] in the trees they may be found, flying, crawling, wriggling round. [illustration] max and maurice, great pains taking, from a tree these bugs are shaking. [illustration] in their cornucopiæ papers, they collect these pinching creepers. [illustration] soon they are deposited in the foot of uncle's bed! [illustration] with his peaked nightcap on, uncle fritz to bed has gone; tucks the clothes in, shuts his eyes, and in sweetest slumber lies. [illustration] [illustration] kritze! kratze! come the tartars single file from their night quarters. [illustration] and the captain boldly goes straight at uncle fritzy's nose. [illustration] "baugh!" he cries: "what have we here?" seizing that grim grenadier. [illustration] uncle, wild with fright, upspringeth, and the bedclothes from him flingeth. [illustration] "awtsch!" he seizes two more scape graces from his shin and nape. [illustration] crawling, flying, to and fro, round the buzzing rascals go. [illustration] wild with fury, uncle fritz stamps and slashes them to bits. [illustration] o be joyful! all gone by is the may bug's deviltry. [illustration] uncle fritz his eyes can close once again in sweet repose. * * * * * this was the bad boys' fifth trick, but the sixth will follow quick. trick sixth. easter days have come again, when the pious baker men bake all sorts of sugar things, plum-cakes, ginger-cakes, and rings. max and maurice feel an ache in their sweet-tooth for some cake. [illustration] but the baker thoughtfully locks his shop, and takes the key. [illustration] who would steal, then, _this_ must do: wriggle down the chimney-flue. [illustration] ratsch! there come the boys, my jiminy! black as ravens, down the chimney. [illustration] puff! into a chest they drop, full of flour up to the top. [illustration] out they crawl from under cover just as white as chalk all over. [illustration] but the cracknels, precious treasure, on a shelf they spy with pleasure. [illustration] knacks! the chair breaks! down they go-[illustration] schwapp!--into a trough of dough! [illustration] all enveloped now in dough, see them, monuments of woe. [illustration] in the baker comes, and snickers when he sees the sugar-lickers. [illustration] one, two, three! the brats, behold! into two good _brots_ are rolled. [illustration] there's the oven, all red-hot,- shove 'em in as quick as thought. [illustration] ruff! out with 'em from the heat, they are brown and good to eat. [illustration] now you think they've _paid the debt_! no, my friend, they're living yet. [illustration] knusper! knasper! like two mice through their roofs they gnaw in a trice; [illustration] and the baker cries, "you bet! there's the rascals living yet!" * * * * * this was the bad boys' sixth trick, but the last will follow quick. last trick max and maurice! i grow sick, when i think on your last trick. [illustration] why must these two scalawags cut those gashes in the bags? [illustration] see! the farmer on his back carries corn off in a sack. [illustration] scarce has he begun to travel, when the corn runs out like gravel. [illustration] all at once he stops and cries: "darn it! i see where it lies!" [illustration] ha! with what delighted eyes max and maurice he espies. [illustration] rabs! he opens wide his sack, shoves the rogues in--hukepack! [illustration] it grows warm with max and maurice, for to mill the farmer hurries. [illustration] "master miller! hallo, man! grind me _that_ as quick as you can!" [illustration] "in with 'em!" each wretched flopper headlong goes into the hopper. [illustration] as the farmer turns his back, he hears the mill go "creaky! cracky!" [illustration] here you see the bits _post mortem_, just as fate was pleased to sort 'em. [illustration] master miller's ducks with speed gobbled up the coarse-grained feed. [illustration] conclusion. in the village not a word, not a sign, of grief, was heard. widow tibbets, speaking low, said, "i thought it would be so!" "none but self," cried buck, "to blame! mischief is not life's true aim!" then said gravely teacher lämpel, "there again is an example!" "to be sure! bad thing for youth," said the baker, "a sweet tooth!" even uncle says, "good folks! see what comes of stupid jokes!" but the honest farmer: "guy! what concern is that to i?" through the place in short there went one wide murmur of content: "god be praised! the town is free from this great rascality!" * * * * * university press: john wilson & son, cambridge. nonsense books by edward lear [illustration] containing- a book of nonsense. nonsense songs. nonsense stories. nonsense cookery. nonsense botany. nonsense alphabets. more nonsense botany. one hundred nonsense pictures and rhymes. twenty-six nonsense rhymes and pictures. laughable lyrics. more nonsense botany. more nonsense alphabets. it is, as our readers will remember, the remarkable work that ruskin placed at the head of the best books.--_baltimore american._ [illustration] _with all the original illustrations, a sketch of the author's life, and a portrait. 12mo. $2.00_ children's poetry and nursery rhymes [illustration] rhymes and ballads for girls and boys. by susan coolidge. illustrated. 8vo. cloth, gilt. $1.50. posies for children. selected by mrs. anna c. lowell. with 32 illustrations. small 4to. cloth. $1.25. popular edition, 16mo. cloth. 75 cents. sing song. a nursery rhyme book. by christina g. rossetti. with 120 illustrations. 12mo. cloth. $1.00. in my nursery. rhymes, chimes, and jingles for children. by laura e. richards. numerous illustrations. small 4to. cloth. $1.25. the children's friend series [illustration] handy illustrated volumes by popular authors, including: louisa m. alcott, susan coolidge, nora perry, helen hunt jackson, louise chandler moulton, juliana h. ewing, edward everett hale, laura e. richards, a. g. plympton, etc. choicely printed and attractively bound in cloth, with gold and ink stamp on side. issued at the popular price of 50 cents per volume. _first issues._ 1. against wind and tide. by louise chandler moulton, author of "bed-time stories," etc. 2. a hole in the wall. by louisa m. alcott, author of "little women," "little men," etc. 3. a little knight of labor. by susan coolidge, author of "what katy did," etc. 4. children's hour. by mary w. tileston, author of "daily strength for daily needs," etc. 5. chop-chin and the golden dragon. by laura e. richards, author of "captain january," "the joyous story of toto," etc. 6. cottage neighbors. by nora perry, author of "another flock of girls," "hope benham," etc. 7. curly locks. by susan coolidge, author of "what katy did," etc. 8. daddy darwin's dovecot. by juliana h. ewing, author of "jackanapes," etc. 9. four of them. by louise chandler moulton, author of "bed-time stories," etc. 10. golden-breasted kootoo. by laura e. richards. 11. goostie. by mary caroline hyde. 12. hunter cats of connorloa. by helen hunt jackson, author of "ramona," "nelly's silver mine," etc. 13. jackanapes. by juliana h. ewing. 14. little olive the heiress. by a. g. plympton, author of "dear daughter dorothy," etc. 15. man without a country. by edward everett hale, author of "ten times one is ten," etc. 16. marjorie's three gifts. by louisa m. alcott. 17. may flowers. by louisa m. alcott. 18. miss toosey's mission. by the author of "belle," "laddie," etc. 19. nonsense songs. by edward lear. 20. rags and velvet gowns. by a. g. plympton, author of "dear daughter dorothy," etc. 21. story of a short life. by juliana h. ewing. 22. sundown songs. by laura e. richards. 23. that little smith girl. by nora perry. 24. under the stable floor. a christmas story. by mary caroline hyde. 25. yan and nochie of tappan sea. by mary caroline hyde. public domain works in the international children's digital library.) [illustration] leslie ross: or, fond of a lark. by charles bruce, author of "my beautiful home," etc. edinburgh: william p. nimmo. 1871. contents. page chapter i. why leslie ross was sent to school, 5 chapter ii. leslie's introduction to ascot house, 17 chapter iii. pea-shooting, and what came of it, 29 chapter iv. the linchpin, 40 chapter v. a memorable holiday, 55 chapter vi. one ned, 72 chapter vii. the flood, 91 chapter i. why leslie ross was sent to school. if ever a boy had kind parents and a happy home, that boy was leslie ross. he was an only child, and as such the love and care of both father and mother centered upon and surrounded him. he had once had a baby sister, whom he recollected to have kissed several times--and once when her cheeks were very, very cold and pale--but in a few days she had faded away; and now the love which she would have shared was all his, and the care which she would have demanded was expended upon him. never were parents so careful that the childhood of a son should be surrounded by pleasant associations and memories, as were mr and mrs ross. they would whisper to each other, while labouring to procure some fresh pleasure for leslie, "we do not know what his future life may be; it may be a rough and rugged one; it may not be a very happy one; we shall be unable to smooth his path then; so let us make his childhood and boyhood as happy as possible, that he may always look back upon it as the freshest and greenest spot in his life, and carry the recollection of our love in his heart all his days." with parents labouring to carry out such an idea, it need scarcely be added that leslie was a happy boy; such, indeed, he was. one circumstance, which formed a large item in his sum of happiness, consisted in the fact that his home was close to the sea shore. the restless sea could be seen from the windows of the house; and the sound of its waves, as they fell gently or dashed violently on to the shingly beach, could be heard in the warm, cosy parlour, or the silent bedrooms. as soon as he could walk, leslie manifested a decided preference for the beach as his playground, and aquatic pursuits as his pleasures; and his daily explorations among the boats and fishing-smacks soon procured for him the notice and friendship of several of the boatmen and fishermen, who almost always take a liking to those who interest themselves in their pursuits; and leslie did this, for he loved to watch the men, as, waist deep in the sea, they dredged for shrimps; to catch hold of one end of a net and help haul it ashore; to carry the oars of a boat which was about to be launched, and even to add his tiny strength to that of the sturdy men in the attempt to float a fishing smack, while his shrill "_heave ho!_" could be distinctly heard mingling with the gruff tones of the fishers. with the sanction of mr ross, one of the boatmen taught him to swim at a very early age; while a second manufactured and taught him how to handle a pair of oars; so that by the time leslie was ten years of age, he could both row and swim very creditably, much to his own satisfaction and delight, and to the contentment of his parents who were happy in their son's happiness; they were, however, too mindful of the risk he ran to allow him to venture on the water unattended, and had strictly enjoined him to observe this rule, and although at times strongly tempted to disobey, leslie never violated the command. there was but one trait in the character of their son which gave mr and mrs ross any concern; he was truthful, honest, and brave, but he was fond of what he called "_a lark!_" which was the name leslie gave to the successful accomplishment of a piece of mischief. he did not actually intend mischief, or intend doing any harm, but his love for "_a lark_" led him farther than at the time he had any idea, and the expression "_what a lark!_" seemed in his eyes an ample compensation for all the discomforts he inflicted upon others. thus he thought it no end of "_a lark_" when, one sunday morning, he put the long hand of all the clocks in the house back, so that his father, who was a clergyman, and very punctual in the performance of his duties, was ten minutes behind time, and found all the assembled congregation anxiously waiting his arrival. and one night when he could not sleep, he stole softly to the door of the servants' bedroom, where he shouted, "murder! thieves! fire!" frightening the poor women out of their first sleep and half out of their senses. when, however, his father pointed out the consequences of indulging in such a course of action, leslie would express, and for the moment feel, penitence; but an hour after he would be as ripe for mischief as ever, did any opportunity offer. how to destroy this fault in their son gave mr and mrs ross many hours of thought. if children did but consider how much pain and trouble their thoughtless and wilful conduct gave to their parents, they would surely think twice before they performed any action they knew would grieve them. "i think, my dear," said mr ross one day to his wife, "i think the only way we can cure leslie of his fault will be by sending him to school." "but do you not think," replied mrs ross, "that associating with other boys will be more likely to foster it?" "no, i think not, for among a number of boys there must be many who would view the consequences likely to arise from indulging in a senseless piece of mischief; these would control the more thoughtless and reckless of their number. besides, in a good school, and subject to wholesome school rules and discipline, there would be less time and fewer opportunities for gratifying any particular propensity." "i wish," said mrs ross, with a sigh, "some other plan could be adopted. i do not like the idea of his going away from home and home influences, and being subject to others of which we know nothing." "i can think of no other," said mr ross; "school life will do leslie a world of good; he is too much alone now, and mixes so little with companions of his own age, that he entertains too great an idea of his own powers and capacities; school life will teach him to moderate this. i think he will have to go, my dear." at that moment leslie burst into the room, full of life and spirits, shouting, "good-bye, ma, good-bye papa, i'm off for a row with old crusoe." "well, be careful, leslie; and mind, no larks," said mr ross, holding up a finger. "careful, papa! oh, you can't think how careful i am; and as for rowing, why, i shall beat crusoe soon," replied leslie, as, with a merry laugh, he left the room. "how bright," said mrs ross; "no care sets on his heart." "no, and his one great fault arises from thoughtlessness; how true are the poet's words:- 'evil is wrought by want of thought as well as want of heart.'" meanwhile leslie had made his way to the beach, where he was saluted by a weather-beaten old sailor, who, in his old age, had turned boatman; this was crusoe, a name leslie had bestowed upon him because he had visited so many parts of the globe. "good morning, sir; are you going to have a row this morning, master leslie?" "yes, crusoe, i came on purpose--a good long row, for i feel as strong as a lion," replied leslie, taking off his jacket and turning up his shirt sleeves. "shall it be the 'lively nancy,' or 'my mary?'" "oh, the 'lively nancy,' she's as light as a feather." the light and gaily-painted boat was soon skimming over the sparkling waves, which were laughing in the sunshine, and leslie rowed with a will, the cool breeze fanning his cheeks and lifting the masses of curly black hair. old crusoe steered. for more than an hour leslie kept his place at the oars; but when the boat's head was turned homeward, he resigned it to crusoe and took his place at the tiller. all would have gone well, and the boat would have reached the shore, if leslie's eyes had not chanced to alight upon the plug used by crusoe to let the water free after cleaning the boat. "what a lark it would be to frighten crusoe," he thought; and no sooner had the thought flashed across his mind than he drew the plug, and quietly dropped it into the water. all unconscious of the invading sea, crusoe continued to row in silence, until he felt something cool creeping round his boots, and looking down he perceived he was ankle deep in water. "hallo," he shouted, "what's this? why, the boat hasn't started a plank, has she? why, we shall sink!" "no fear of that," said leslie. "no fear! why, it will take us very nearly an hour to get to shore, and she'll sink in less than ten minutes." "you don't mean it, crusoe?" cried leslie, in a startled voice; "why, i've pulled out the plug." "what?" cried the horrified boatman; "here, take this boat-hook and hoist your hat on it as a signal to those ashore, it's our only hope." leslie did as he was desired, and both he and crusoe shouted with all the power of their lungs, but apparently in vain, for no boat was seen to put off from the beach. "we must swim for this," said crusoe, "although i much doubt if we shall ever be able to reach dry land again. pull off your boots and your jacket, and put one of these oars under your arms, it will help to keep you up." leslie mechanically followed crusoe's directions. he was too frightened at the result of his thoughtless folly to have the presence of mind to think for himself. the boat soon sank from under them, leaving them to buffet alone and unaided with the waves. never before had leslie attempted, or even dreamt of swimming the distance which now intervened between him and the shore; he felt he should never be able to accomplish it. however, he struggled bravely, occasionally cheered by an encouraging word from crusoe. how bitterly he repented his foolish act; and as he felt his strength diminishing, his thoughts rapidly travelled to his home and his parents, and in imagination he saw their sorrowful faces, as they bent over his lifeless body as the waves washed it ashore. what would he not have given for the power to undo his folly. but an action once done, however good or however bad it may be, can never be undone. this should make us thoughtful. "i can't struggle any longer, crusoe," said leslie, in a faint voice. "throw one arm on my back, don't clutch," said crusoe. leslie felt himself growing fainter and fainter; the sea and sky seem to mingle and go rapidly round and round; he relinquished his hold of the oar, which floated away, and he gradually sank deeper and deeper into the water; and just as he heard a confused sound as of voices shouting, he relaxed his hold of crusoe and sank into total unconsciousness. when leslie again returned to consciousness, he found himself lying in his own bed, with his father and mother seated by its side. "where am i?" he murmured. "thank god, he is safe," said mrs ross, turning away to hide her tears. "oh, father, i'm so sorry," cried leslie, as the recollection of what he had done flashed across his mind. "there, there, you must not talk now, you must try and go to sleep;" and, silently kissing him, both mr and mrs ross left the room. the next morning leslie felt no ill effects from his long immersion in the water,--youth, a good constitution, and a sound sleep soon restored him to his wonted state of health. he learnt at the breakfast table, that just as he let go his hold of crusoe and sank, a boat hove in sight, which had put off from the shore to their rescue, the accident having been witnessed. crusoe immediately dived, and brought him again to the surface, when they were both hauled into the boat and safely conveyed to shore. "and now, leslie," said mr ross, after detailing the above events, "i have some news to tell you. i am going to send you to school." "to school, papa!" said leslie, in surprise. "yes, i have thought of doing so for some time past, and the events of yesterday have quite decided me. not all mine, or your mamma's counsels and warnings can cure you of a very foolish yet dangerous practice. i am going to try if school discipline will." "and when am i to go, papa," said leslie, ready to cry. "as soon as i can find a school suitable." "but, papa, i don't want to go." "perhaps not, but i cannot afford to pay for all the consequences of your love for '_a lark_;' neither can i or your mamma bear to see our son brought lifeless to the door every day." "oh, papa, i'm so sorry." "yes, i do not doubt it, but your sorrow will not bring crusoe's boat up from the bottom of the sea. recollect, my boy, that _if you do wrong, punishment will always follow_; and i want to teach you this before you go out into the world, for your punishment there will not be so merciful as i or your mamma would inflict." and this is why leslie ross was sent to school. chapter ii. leslie's introduction to ascot house. a few days after his adventure with old crusoe, leslie bade farewell to home and all its delights. he tried to be brave and not cry, but in spite of all his efforts he continually felt a kind of choking sensation in the throat, and when he kissed his mother for the last time, he fairly burst into tears, and did not again recover his calmness until he found himself seated by his papa in a first-class carriage, and being whirled to london as fast as an express train could whirl him. "come, leslie," said mr ross, "dry up your tears and be a man, you will not find school life so unpleasant as you imagine; after the first few days, you will settle down and soon make friends." the school to which mr ross was conveying leslie was situated about fifty miles the opposite side of london to that of his own home, and was known by the name of _ascot house_, and had the reputation of being one of the best private schools in its county; mr ross, however, had chiefly selected it from the fact that its principal, dr price, had been an old college companion and friend, and he knew him to be a man of probity and honour, and one to whom he could safely intrust both the moral and mental education of his son. the school-house was a large building, and contained ample accommodation for many more than the number of scholars the doctor undertook to educate, and was situated a few hundred yards from the banks of a broad, but somewhat sluggish stream; in fact, the school-house seemed much too near to the river to be pleasant, especially when it was known that the building itself was below its level; but as no inundations had ever been known, and all dangerous parts had been well dammed up, and every precaution taken against its overflow, no danger was apprehended. on this river the boys were allowed to row, and in it they were allowed to bathe. to the scholars generally it formed a great feature of attraction. "see, leslie," said mr ross, as they neared the school, "you will still have your favourite element on which to exhibit your prowess." "yes, i see, papa, but it is nothing compared to the sea." it was near noon of a beautiful summer day that they drove up to the private entrance of the school-house; the sun was shining brightly, and every flower in the garden was alive with beauty and colour. "if your school career is as bright as this day is, leslie, it will do." "i will try and make it so, papa." "do, my son; mine and your mamma's thoughts will be constantly travelling to ascot house." "and mine travelling home, papa." "so i believe, my dear boy; but life is always full of partings, and absence from those we love." mr ross and his son were ushered into the doctor's library, where they found the doctor himself ready to receive them, who, after shaking hands with his old college friend, placed one on leslie's head, saying, "this, then, is the young gentleman concerning whom you wrote." "yes, doctor, he is my only son." "well, i trust we shall work well and pleasantly together, and that i may always have a good account to transmit to you concerning him." leslie murmured something in reply, but what, he scarcely knew. he was glancing round the doctor's library, to ascertain if there were any instruments of punishment to be seen, his ideas of school discipline and punishment being almost one and the same. "you will, of course, stop and dine with me, ross, and be introduced to my wife and child; your son also, will like to have one more meal with you; meanwhile i will introduce him to his future companions, with whom he has both to work and play." "then i will bid you farewell till dinner time, leslie," said mr ross, as the doctor took his son by the hand to lead him away. as they approached the school-room door a confused buz of many voices fell upon leslie's ear, which was hushed, complete silence reigning, as they entered. it was a long and lofty room, containing as many as eighty or ninety boys of various size and age, from the little urchin of nine years in knickerbockers, to the youth of eighteen sporting his first tailed-coat. leslie gave one hasty look round the room and then lowered his glance, fixing it upon the floor, being unable to withstand the battery of so many eyes, all of which were fixed scrutinisingly upon himself. "boys," said the doctor, "i introduce to you a new companion, who, being a stranger, i hope you will treat with all kindness and courtesy. hall, i place him beneath your care and protection, make him familiar with the ways of the school. it is my custom, you know, boys," continued the doctor, "to indulge you with a half-holiday whenever a new boy enters the school; we will therefore resume our studies at half-past eight to-morrow morning." "hurrah! one cheer for the doctor," cried a boy, jumping on a form and waving a large dictionary in the air. "hip! hip! hip! hurrah!" was the deafening response. "now then, one more for the new boy." "hip! hip! hip! hurrah!" was again heartily shouted, in the middle of which the large dictionary slipped from the hand which held it, falling with a crash upon the head of a boy who was just rising to leave his desk. "you, johnnie lynch," cried the boy, rubbing his head, "just be careful where you throw your books." "i beg pardon," replied lynch, laughing; "it was quite an accident, i assure you." "it is all very well saying so now it is done; i never had so many words thrown at me before." "well, never mind, words are but wind." "wind, i found them anything but wind." "besides, lynch," chimed in another boy, "your dictionary struck him in his weakest part." "come, mr sharp-tongue, you had better make yourself scarce," said the boy, making a grab at the last speaker, who, however, was too nimble, for, eluding his grasp, he made his way to where leslie was standing, and introduced himself as arthur hall, to whose protection the doctor had confided him. hall was a bright, merry-looking boy, about fourteen years of age. "well, youngster, what is you name?" commenced hall. "ross, leslie ross." "is this your first school?" "yes, my father has educated me until now." "why does he send you to school?" "because i nearly drowned myself and old crusoe." "oh, i say, you're a lively fellow, i hope you won't try it on any of us. i for one don't want my friends to go into mourning on my account," said one boy from the group which had clustered round leslie. "oh, no fear," replied leslie, who loved a joke, "i won't try it until i'm perfectly sure of success, and will then take the whole school in hand." "ah, but unless you can swim, my boy, you will have to keep on dry land; the doctor don't like more than one pupil drowned a term, and jones, here, was very near it the other day," slapping a quiet-looking boy on the back. "if hall and i had not stood him on his head, to let the water run out of his mouth, and rolled him over and over on the bank, his place in the class would have been vacant, and you would have seen all our eyes red with weeping; eh, jones?" "that will do moore," replied jones; "you must not believe him, you new boy, or he'll cram you with no end of nonsense." "nonsense, jones, nonsense! why, am i not the most sensible boy in the school?" "yes, when all the rest of us are away." "come, moore, say no more," broke in hall, "i have not ended my questioning yet." then turning to leslie he said, "can you swim?" "yes, and row too?" "where did you learn?" "oh, my home is by the sea-shore,--an old sailor taught me." "well, come and have a row now, and let's see who's the best man. i never have rowed on salt water." "you are sure to beat me," said leslie, "you are so much older than i am. but will there be time before dinner?" "plenty; besides, the exercise will sharpen your teeth, and they'll need it to-day, for fridays are boiled beef days." "but i am to dine with my father at the doctor's table." "oh, then, you are all right, come along." away the boys bounded, as only school-boys can, shouting and laughing, and playing off harmless practical jokes upon each other. they soon reached that part of the river where the boats were hauled up on the bank. "who will lend ross a boat?" inquired hall, as he stepped into his, and began preparing for the race. "i will," said moore; "here, jump in, youngster, and let's see what you're made of." leslie seated himself in the boat which moore pushed into the stream. "you see that solitary tree about a quarter of a mile farther on? well, that's the winning post," said moore; "now then, all ready? one, two, three, off." away the boats flew. leslie found he had all his work cut out to beat hall, who, if not so skilful as himself in the use of the oars, was much older and stronger. the other boys ran along the bank shouting and waving their caps by way of encouragement. the two boats for a third of the way kept even pace, then hall's gradually forged a-head, and, try all he could, leslie was unable to regain the lost space, so that, when the winning post was reached, hall won by quite a boat's length. "come," said hall, as he stepped out of his boat on their return, and gently patted leslie on the shoulder, "come, i think you and i are likely to be good friends." leslie thought so too, although he felt a little hurt at having been beaten. in the doctor's dining-room leslie was introduced to mrs price, who gave him a very kindly welcome, and when he looked up into her pleasant face, he thought he should be sure to like her, and hoped that he would have many opportunities of being in her company; but when leslie was introduced to the doctor's little daughter, a year younger than himself, he was quite charmed, and decided in his own mind that the world could not possess a prettier creature than maud price. leslie had not been much accustomed to the society of girls, and in consequence felt quite bashful when he found himself seated next to her at table; but her quiet, easy, and graceful manner speedily put him at his ease; and during the progress of dinner he could not refrain from stealing a few glances at her face and eyes. the little lady, however, was very quiet, and, until dessert was placed on the table, said not a word, when, lifting up her eyes to his face, she said,-"have you come to be a school-boy?" "yes, and this is my first school." "i'm so sorry, because school-boys are so noisy and troublesome; i can't bear school-boys." "but perhaps i may turn out different," said leslie, scarcely knowing what to say in reply to the decided expression of the young lady. "well, perhaps so, but i have not much hope." "suppose i try to keep as i am now for your sake?" "ah, that would be nice, then i would ask mamma to invite you into the parlour sometimes." "an inducement," said leslie, with a smile. the time sped rapidly on, and the hour approached when mr ross was compelled to leave, and, taking his son into the garden, he there bade him farewell, saying, "good-bye, my boy, mind and write home to let us know how you get on; if i may judge from what i have seen of the school, you will be comfortable here." "yes, papa, as comfortable as i can be away from home." and leslie thought so again, as at night he knelt down by his bedside, to repeat his evening prayer. [illustration] chapter iii. pea-shooting and what came of it. leslie soon made himself at home with the boys, more especially those of his own age or two or three years his senior; the elders of the school, those who had discarded jackets and sported tailed-coats, he looked at from a distance, and viewed with a certain amount of awe, thinking he should never attain to their size or standing in the school; and although these superfine gentlemen always gave him a friendly nod when they chanced to meet, or employed him in running an errand, he never presumed to be familiar with one of them. there were also several boys in the school about leslie's own age, with whom he did not care to associate, whose dispositions, ways of thinking, and ordinary pursuits, were quite opposed to his own. but with arthur hall, johnnie lynch, jones, and moore, he was soon a close and firm friend. he was very pleased to find that he was to occupy the same bedroom as that of his friends. the doctor, leslie found to be a very kind but very firm master; while he made every allowance for a boy's incapacity or sheer inability to learn a particular task, he showed no mercy to those who could learn and would not, either from idleness or inattention. there were three other masters beside the doctor, who followed in the steps of their principal. mrs price extended many acts of kindness towards leslie, for his father's sake at first, but after she knew him better, for his own, so that leslie wrote home glowing accounts of the pleasures of school life; his races on the river, the long country walks with the doctor, and the tales told in bed. during his first month, everything was too fresh, pleasant, and exciting, for leslie even to think about having "_a lark_;" but in the first week of his second month he gave evident proof that this fault had not disappeared from, or been overcome in his character. he forgot the promise he had made to his papa, or the nearly fatal results of his last "lark;" he forgot all about the many good resolutions he had made in his own heart; all which led him into fresh trouble. near to ascot house was a small market-town, which the boys were allowed to visit during play hours and on half-holidays; but after dusk no one was permitted to be absent from the playground, and after the names were read over for the evening, without special leave, no one could absent himself from the school-house; this rule was rigorously enforced by the doctor. the market-town consisted mainly of three streets in the form of a triangle; but on the outskirts of the town were long rows of cottages, principally tenanted by farm-labourers and working-men. the outer door of each of these cottages opened into the sitting-room without any passage intervening, so that any boy so disposed, by placing one eye at the keyhole, could see all the inmates of the room. leslie had observed this during his various visits to the town. one evening, after each name had been called over and answered to, and the boys were preparing lessons for the next day, leslie shut up his books with a bang, saying to johnnie lynch, who sat next to him, "there, those are done; now, what shall i do?" "one moment, ross, and i shall be finished, then we'll both do something." a minute or two after, lynch put his books into the desk, saying, "now, ross, what is it to be?" "follow me, lynch, and i will show you; mind wilson don't see you, or he'll want to know where we are going." the two boys watched for an opportunity, and when the master's head was turned on one side, slipped silently and unobserved from the room, and without detection made their way to the playground. "where are you going?" inquired lynch. "into the town," replied ross. "but that is against rules, and if discovered we shall be punished." "oh, we shan't be found out; but don't come if you are afraid." "i am not afraid, but i don't see we are doing exactly right." "but it will be no end of a lark." "then i'm all with you." "run beneath the shadow of the hedge, so that we are not seen," said leslie. "all right; go a-head." away the boys ran, leslie informing lynch of his plan as they went, which seemed to meet with lynch's entire approbation. the outskirts of the town were speedily reached, when, stopping before the first cottage was gained, leslie pulled two long pieces of round hollow tin from his pocket,--which are known by the name of pea-shooters,--and a handful of peas. giving one of the pea-shooters and some of the peas to lynch, leslie whispered, "do you take the right hand side, and i the left; mind and aim straight at the face of the clocks: don't laugh, or the peas will get into your throat and choke you." "we had better begin a little higher up, so that the road may be clear for a run," said lynch. very silently the boys each approached a cottage, and inserting their pea-shooter in the keyhole, fired a whole mouthful of peas at the glass face of the old-fashioned eight-day clock, with which each cottage was furnished. there was a start, and a sudden cry of, "lor-a-mercy, what's that?" from the cottage, which highly amused the boys, who glided on to the next, and then to the next, producing a similar sensation and exclamation in each, until they reached the last on their list, which they favoured with an extra number of shot. "run for it, leslie," said lynch, "i hear some one coming." neither of them could run with their usual speed, their suppressed laughter was so great; but this soon gave way to alarm as they heard the steps of their pursuer drawing nearer and nearer. "we shall be caught, leslie, let us turn into the field and cut straight across to the school." they soon clambered through the hedge; leslie catching his foot in a bramble, pitched head foremost into the grass, but before he could recover himself lynch was lying by his side whispering, "lie still, he's now passing." as soon as they thought their pursuer had got to a safe distance, they scrambled on to their feet and darted across the meadow, straight as the crow flies, and in a few minutes gained the school-house without any farther adventure. "i fancy i must have broken some of those glasses," said leslie, "i fired so hard; but what a lark! how they all cried 'lor-a-mercy!'" and the two boys burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. "come, leslie," said lynch, who was the first to recover himself, "let us go in, or wilson will find we are absent." no one, however, appeared to have noticed their absence, and the two adventurers gained the school-room and resumed their seats unobserved. the next morning, as dr price was in the act of seating himself at his desk, preparatory to the commencement of school work, a servant entered and informed him that he was wanted on particular business for a few minutes. the doctor was absent for a short time, and then returned accompanied by a man and a boy dressed in the smock-frock of farm labourers. the doctor commanded silence. leslie's heart gave a quick throb, and he felt a tremor run through his whole frame as his eye alighted upon the group at the principal's desk. "boys," began the doctor, in a clear but stern voice, looking round upon his scholars, "boys, i have been informed that some two or three of my pupils perpetrated a very annoying trick at several of the cottages at the entrance of the town last evening. i am unwilling to believe that any of my scholars are guilty, as the hour when the trick was accomplished, was one when no boy has leave to absent himself from the school grounds, or even house; but my informant is so confident it was some of you, that i am compelled for the sake of arriving at the truth to ask whether it is so; are any of you boys guilty of this trick?" there was a dead silence. leslie whispered to lynch, "i think we had better tell." "you are sure the boys ran in the direction of the school?" inquired the doctor, turning to the man and boy. "ees, i'm sure and certain," replied the boy, "for i chased 'em, i did, most 'alf the way; so i bee's sure like." "you hear, boys," said the doctor; "if any of you are guilty you had better confess it at once." for a minute or two a complete silence again reigned, at the end of which leslie rose from his seat, and with a face quite scarlet in colour, said, "if you please, i am the guilty one!" and then sat down again. "and who was your companion, ross?" "if you please, sir, i would rather not tell." "i was, sir!" said lynch. "lynch; and who else?" "there was no one else, sir." "and may i ask what motive induced you to play such a trick, as shooting peas at eight-day clocks." "it was only a lark, sir," said leslie. "a lark! and do you know what your 'lark' has done?" "no, sir." "besides the annoyance you have caused these good people and their families, you have broken three of the clock-glasses." "aye, and cracked neighbour hodge's, and neighbour smith's as well, 'ee have," interrupted the man, "besides frightening master sparrow's good 'ooman, who has been that ill for a month as nothing was like afore." "i am sorry, sir," said the doctor, addressing the man, "that any of my pupils should have been guilty of such a thoughtless action; tell your friends from me that they shall be amply compensated, while the boys themselves shall be duly punished." when the visitors had departed, the doctor said, "ross, and lynch, do you know why rules are made? do you think they are made to be broken or kept? your conduct last evening fully answers the question; and as you have thought proper to break one, that of being absent from school after the proper hours, you must also bear the consequences; recollect no wrong can be done without punishment following it; you will, therefore, each of you confine yourself to the school grounds for one month, and bring me twenty lines each day; besides which, you will have to make good the damage you committed. boys, to your lessons." "this is more than i bargained for," said lynch, making a wry face to leslie. "or i either," replied leslie, returning the grimace. "fancy a whole month!" "bad as being in prison." "i wish we had kept in, now," sighed lynch. "yes, so do i, but it can't be helped." "no, we've had the 'lark,' and must now be physicked." when morning school was over the doctor took leslie into his study, and seating himself, laid one hand upon his shoulder, and in a kind but grave voice said, "ross, i am sorry, more so than i can express, that you should have been guilty of so thoughtless an action as that of last night; what do you think your father will say? if you do not overcome this weakness of yours it will lead you into many more troubles. you must keep watch and guard upon yourself. when tempted you must ask yourself whether the action is right, and what are likely to be its results. he that over-cometh himself, is stronger than a man who taketh a walled city." when leslie left the doctor's study it was with the fall determination never to indulge in another "lark." chapter iv. the linchpin. "rain, rain, rain, i think we are going to have a second deluge," said arthur hall, looking disconsolately out of one of the school-room windows. "yes, i think so, too," said fred moore, joining him. "this makes the second week it has poured down, with not a single bright day all the time." "it would not be a bad plan if it only rained at night, and not during the day, for play and work could go on quite nicely then," remarked lynch, who was copying out his twenty lines. "it is rather fortunate for you and ross, that all this rain has come during your punishment month." "yes," chimed in leslie, "with the exception of the daily task of twenty lines, our last fortnight has not been much of a punishment, for i assure you i have had no desire to go out." "always your fortune," said hall, who was manifestly in an ill humour; "now, if i had been punished instead of you, the weather would have been a marvel of fineness, sunny all day and starry all night." "well, don't get cross, hall, the holidays will soon be here; another ten days, and good-bye books, slates, and masters." "yes, there is some consolation in that," said hall; "but you two, ross and lynch, just step here and see how it comes down." "one moment," said lynch, "i am finishing my last line; there, the doctor ought to give me three good marks, and set me up as an example of clever penmanship before the whole school." "how quick you write, johnnie," said leslie, looking up from his task, as his friend waved his paper round his head, "here i have six more lines to copy." "courage, my dear fellow, courage; remember this is our last day, our punishment is now ended." "yes, i am happy to say." "i already feel a new man," said lynch, stretching himself; "no longer a slave, bound hand and foot in fetters, i am free as the winds." "true," said leslie, a minute after laying down his pen, "my punishment is over, i _am_ happy." "yes, we have taken all our physic, and are now free from the doctor's rule. when will you have another lark, leslie?" "never again," said leslie, folding up his paper. how confidently he spoke. "now, then, what is there to be seen," exclaimed lynch, approaching the group at the window. "why, come and inform us what prospect we have of playing our game of cricket to-morrow," said hall. "oh, my! how it rains!" "yes, it does come down," said leslie. "you will have to play out your game under umbrellas, i fear," said lynch. "yes, and with pattens on the feet." "why, if it keeps on much longer, we shall be able to bathe in the playground; just look at the pools," said one boy. "look at the river; how it has risen," said leslie. "it has, indeed," said hall, "and the water is speeding along pretty fast, too." "i say," exclaimed a boy, "you don't think there's any danger, do you?" "danger of what?" inquired hall. "why, of ascot house taking a fancy to sail down the stream." "i should imagine not," said hall, looking out at the waters. "here comes arnold, i will ask him what he thinks," said lynch, as he saw one of the elder boys approaching. "arnold, will you look here a minute." "what is it you want?" said arnold, stepping up to the window. "do you think there is any danger of the river overflowing?" arnold watched the turbulent flow of the waters for a few minutes in complete silence; the conversation we have reported had attracted several more of the boys to the window, so that quite a circle surrounded him, waiting anxiously for his verdict. arnold knew not what to think; he had never before seen the river in such a state as he now beheld it, so full or so rapid; he was half afraid there _was_ danger, but did not care to give his fears expression, for fear of frightening the boys, but in his secret heart he determined to call the doctor's attention to its condition, and ask his opinion. turning to the group, he said, "well, boys, i am not competent to give an opinion, but such a thing has never before occurred, to my recollection." "but old badger, up in the town, says he recollects a flood when he was a boy, which carried away a few cottages," said one of the group. "pooh! old badger is in his second childhood," said arnold, trying to make light of the affair; "he must mean the great deluge." "well, i only know what he told me," said the boy. "yes, but if you believe all you hear, you will gain some extraordinary knowledge in the course of your life," said arnold, walking away in search of the doctor. the doctor gave it as his opinion that there was no possible danger of a flood; but, that all fears might be set at rest, he would give orders for a thorough examination of the banks of the river, so that whatever damage the continuous rains had done might at once be rectified, and all possible danger averted. but at night time, as the doctor gazed from his bedroom window at the turbulent stream, he could not but think that he had been somewhat too hasty in his conclusion regarding the possibility of a flood; but with the mental determination to order the examination the first thing in the morning, he closed his window and retired to bed. the following morning, however, was bright and clear, the rain-clouds had all vanished away, while the glorious sun was flooding the earth with warmth and light. the doctor thought there was no immediate necessity to order the examination, and, receiving some rather important letters, the subject dropped from his mind. meanwhile, leslie's month of punishment had passed away, and with the returning sunlight, returned his liberty. he awoke early on this bright morning, and lay awake for some time before either of the other inmates of the room had unclosed their eyes. he lay thinking how he could best prevent himself falling again into that weakness which had already cost him so much sorrow and punishment. how ardently he wished he could always keep a strict guard and watch on his wayward fancy; he recollected reading of some prisoner who always had an eye watching him; through every hour of the day and night, that eye was ever watching his slightest movement, and noting his every gesture; leslie wished that some such an eye could watch the secret promptings of his mind. "come what will," he murmured to himself, "i will try and cure myself of this fault," and then he lifted up his heart in prayer for strength to accomplish what he had determined in his own mind. there is always a refuge open from whence strength can be received. it was market-day in the little town close to ascot house, and half-holiday with the boys, many of whom took pleasure in sauntering into the market place to view the noisy and exciting scenes; to pull the ears of the pigs, and feel the wool of the sheep; to watch the farmers and higglers making their bargains, or to join in the chase after a refractory bullock, which would run pell-mell through the busy throng, scattering both buyer and seller, master and man. leslie found great pleasure in all this; at his home by the sea-side he had seen nothing of the kind, it was all fresh and novel, and highly exciting as well as amusing. he never lost an opportunity of enjoying this pleasure. he had wandered about the market all the afternoon; visited every sheep-pen, pig-pen, and cattle-stall; watched the racing up and down of sundry horses; seen the transfer of several baskets of fowl, and peeped into the corn exchange, when he thought it was about time to return home; but as he passed an inn-yard he lingered to see a farmer commence his homeward journey. he was making preparations to start, at the same time boasting how far his horse could trot. while the man was in the act of mounting, leslie stood close to one of the wheels of the cart; he noticed the linchpin was nearly half out; "what a lark," he thought, "if i were to take the pin wholly out, the farmer's horse would not trot so very far to-day." without another moment's consideration leslie extracted the pin; but no sooner was it safe in his hand than he repented the action. was this following out his morning's resolution? was this turning over a new leaf? he attempted to replace the pin again in its proper position; the farmer, however, had now gathered the reins into his hand, and shouted to him to stand clear. "you young monkey," he cried, "do you wish to be run over," and with that the horse started. leslie set off in chase, shouting for the man to stop; but the farmer, paying no heed to his cries, soon left him far behind with the abstracted linchpin in his hand. he sat down on a bank by the road side and burst into tears. what should he do? how could he remedy what he had done? what would the consequences be? the wheel might come off, the farmer be thrown out and seriously hurt, or perhaps killed, and he, leslie, would then be a murderer. it was some time before leslie could make up his mind to return back to school, he thought it would be best to run away and hide himself somewhere, in some secret place where no one could find him, or would ever dream of searching for him. then he thought he had better go directly to the doctor and confess what he had done; but this, his wisest plan, was overruled by the lingering hope in his heart that perhaps after all the farmer might reach home in safety. when any one does wrong, it is always best to confess it at once; concealing the wrong makes it more, adds to the offence, and to the restless unhappiness of him who committed it. if leslie had done this,--fully and frankly confessed his fault--perhaps the result of his mischief might not have fallen so heavily upon himself. two days of wretched anxiety passed. leslie heard that a farmer returning home from market had been thrown from his cart and severely injured, but he could gain no particulars of the accident, how it had occurred, or who had been the victim. he most fervently trusted that it was not the consequences of his thoughtlessness; but it was almost like hoping against hope to believe this. on the third day, as he was leaving the school grounds in company with lynch, hall, and moore, he felt a rough hand laid on the collar of his jacket, while a harsh voice fell upon his ear, exclaiming, "you be the young dog that took out my linchpin." "hallo! what's this?" shouted hall, trying to pull leslie free from the man's grasp. the man carried one arm in a sling. "just you leave him alone, young sir," said the man, "i have nothing to say to you, but to this young dog i have." "but what is it all about, man?" enquired hall; "you must not seize the pupils of ascot house in this way." "pupil or no pupil," said the man, doggedly, "this 'ere one goes along with me to the doctor." "don't parley, hall," said lynch; "can't you see the man's mad; waste no words, but rescue ross." "yes, come on," cried moore, seizing one arm, while lynch hauled at the man's coat behind. "hear me a minute," said leslie, as his friends thus proceeded to active measures; "i had better go with this man to the doctor, for i fear i am only too much in the wrong." "ah! now you speak sensible; so come along," and without removing his hand from his collar he led leslie up to the doctor's private door, and asked permission to speak with him for a few minutes. they were shown into the library, where the doctor soon made his appearance. "good morning, farmer west, what has this young gentleman done that you should hold him by the collar like a prisoner?" "why, sir, i can't positively say this young gentleman did it, but i strongly suspect he took one of the linchpins out of my cart last market day, so that a wheel came off and i was thrown out and broke an arm." the doctor looked earnestly at leslie, who had fixed his eyes upon the carpet, too much ashamed to raise them to his master's face. "is this true, ross?" "yes, sir, but i did not mean to do it." "mean to!" broke in the farmer, "but you did it; look at my arm!" "i assure you, sir," said leslie, earnestly, "that i repented the action the moment i had done it, and tried to replace the pin, but the horse started before i was able." "your repentance will not mend this gentleman's arm," said the doctor. "i know it will not, sir, but believe me i am sorry," said leslie, with tears rolling down his cheeks. "how can i place confidence in what you say," said the doctor, "when the very day after your punishment had expired for your former act of folly, you commit a far more serious one?" leslie could make no reply, his tears showed his distress. "leave me for the present, while i say a few words to mr west; i must write to your father and consult with him as to what course i shall pursue." leslie left the library with a very heavy heart. two days after, the doctor sent for him, and informed him that he had written to his father, and that in his reply his father had desired him to keep his son at school during the holidays as a punishment for his fault; at the same time leslie received this unwelcome intelligence, the doctor handed him a note which had been enclosed in that he himself received. leslie found the note was from his mother; he could scarcely read it, tears blinded his eyes. "do not think," ran the words of the note, "that we at home are not grieved and sorry because our son is not to be with us; we were looking forward to the pleasure of seeing you and clasping you once again in our arms; but we think it our duty to forego all this for your sake. we want our little boy to grow up into a brave and good man, and this he will never do unless he learns to govern well his own nature, repress with a strong hand that which is evil, and foster that which is good. you often used to wonder, when we read the _pilgrim's progress_ together, what could be meant by the '_arrow sharpened by love_;' now you will learn it by experience, _your punishment is an 'arrow sharpened by love.'_" all leslie's companions were sorry when they heard what his punishment was to be, and manifested their sympathy in various ways, and by many words of condolence. "i pity you, old boy," said hall, one night when they were all in bed, "i pity you, for i know what it is to be at school during the holidays; i must not grumble, however, for the latter part of the time was passed pleasantly enough." "what, were you ever at school during holiday time?" inquired leslie. "yes, and at ascot house, too." "tell us all about it, hall," said lynch, sitting up in bed. "yes, do, hall!" said the rest of the boys. "all right, i'm agreeable; so here goes:" and hall told the story of his holiday passed at school. chapter v. a memorable holiday. "provided a school-boy is blessed with a happy home and kind friends," commenced hall, "there is no one in the world who looks forward to a holiday with so much pleasure, or enjoys it so thoroughly. when the time draws near that he is to leave school-life for a season, how old father time seems to lag on his journey, as if he had grown tired, or lame, or had met with an accident and was delayed on the way, so slowly does the wished-for day come. and when at length the happy morn arrives, who so joyous as the school-boy as he jumps out of bed and wakes his next bedfellow by throwing his pillow at him, or by the summary process of stripping the clothes from the sleeping form? too happy and excited to eat his last breakfast in the old dining-hall, what tricks he plays with his schoolmates, who are equally excited as himself! now he boasts what he will do during the holidays, where he will go, whom he shall see, and what things he will eat. and with what a shout he waves a farewell, as the carriage, or the coach, or the dog-cart rolls out of the school-grounds, and conveys him away out of sight of the old school-house and its master, sounding as he goes, it may be, a tin horn or a brass bugle he had bought for the occasion. "imagination follows the boy to his happy home, where his father welcomes him with a hearty shake of the hand, his mother with a fond clinging embrace, and his sisters with smiles and kisses; while his younger brothers, who have been on the watch for hours, greet him with shouts of delight, and hurry him away to see their favourite rabbits, and pet guinea-pigs, and mice. who so happy as a school-boy home for the holidays! "but amid all the excitement, and hurry, and joy, and noise, and confusion, how unutterably miserable is that boy who has no home to go to, and is to remain at school during the holidays; his face is like a cloud amid the sunshine, a frown amid smiles; he views the preparations of each departing boy with envy, and, try all he can, he cannot assume a _nonchalant_ or i-don't-care kind of air, nor prevent a lump rising in his throat, and an occasional dimness gathering over his eyes. may be he hides himself away that he may not see the general departure of all his school-fellows, and as their joyous shouts reach him in his hiding-place, he puts his fingers in his ears to shut out the noise which means such loneliness for himself. "it so chanced that one michaelmas i was the one unfortunate boy who was left 'sole monarch of all i surveyed.' my parents were away on the continent, and, unable to reach home in time, had requested the master, as a favour, to allow me to remain at ascot house during the holidays. i was anything but pleased myself at the arrangement, but was compelled to grin and bear it. "i will not be _too_ sure, but i think i hid myself and cried, after willie wilcox, the last boy to leave, had shaken me by the hand, saying, 'cheer up, old fellow; i'm sorry for you, but i suppose it can't be helped. i'll write you a line while i am away.' it was all very well to say 'cheer up,' but my spirits had gradually sunk at each boy's departure, until they were far below zero when i found myself alone. i wandered aimlessly about the playground, which had never before appeared so deserted or silent, kicking stones about with my feet, and making holes in the ground with the heels of my boots. i sauntered up to the school-room windows, and stared in at the empty room, and at the long desks, which looked strange and unfamiliar. even the doctor's wife did not raise my spirits when she kindly said, 'you may go into the garden, hall, whenever you like, and pick some fruit, but be sure you do not eat too much, so as to make yourself unwell.' i availed myself of the privilege, and ate more fruit than i have ever done since. no, nothing could banish the cloud from my face, nor the gloom from my heart. i never knew what loneliness was before. even night did not wrap me in forgetfulness, for although by way of variety i lay in a different bed each night, sleep seemed to have gone home for a holiday as well as the boys, for it would seldom visit my couch. "this state of things went on for a week. i took long walks, but the zest seemed to have gone out of them since i was alone, for they were nothing like so pleasant as when my companions were with me. a change came, however, which made the remaining days a little more bright and cheery. "on the first day of the second week of the holidays, i had sauntered away from the house, and was hunting for nuts in a little wood or plantation, not far from the grounds of squire aveling. i was absorbed in my occupation until i heard a scream in the adjoining lane, and the terrified voice of a girl exclaim, 'oh! papa! papa! do come!' and then another scream, followed by the deep bay of a dog. i bounded from the wood, cleared the old palings which separated it from the lane with one jump, and was just in time to throttle a big brute of a dog round the neck, as it was in the very act of springing upon a little girl, who, in terror, was crouching down in the road. "the dog was strong, and i found it no easy matter to hold the brute, and restrain its savage attempts to catch some part of my person between its jaws. but just at the moment when i thought i could hold on no longer, and should be compelled to relinquish my grasp, and while tumbling over and over in the dust, a voice cried out--while i could hear rapid steps approaching,--'hold on; i'll be with you in a minute;' and almost at the same instant the dog was pulled from my grasp, and a heavy whip descended upon its back and flanks, causing it to yell out so lustily that the wood echoed again. "by the time i had risen to my feet, and shaken some of the dust from my clothes, the dog had run howling away, while as pretty a looking little girl as ever i saw was clinging round the neck of a tall gentleman, who was endeavouring to hush her terrified sobs. this was soon accomplished, for what child does not feel safe in its father's arms? and the gentleman, turning to me, held out his hand, and, with a smile, said,-"'let me thank you heartily and warmly for saving my little girl from that savage dog.' "'oh, sir,' i replied, blushing up to the roots of my hair, 'it was not much; i should have been a coward had i not done as i did.' "'my little maid here does not think it was a mere nothing, neither do i. i don't think many boys would have had the courage to do what you did.' "'i think, sir, that you can't know much about boys to say that, for i could bring no end of a number who would have done the same thing; aye, and better than i did.' "'well, i won't contradict you; but what is your name? and where do you come from?' "'my name, sir,' i replied, 'is hall--arthur hall, and i am one of the boys from ascot house.' "'but how is it you are here--i thought it was holiday-time?' "'so it is, sir; but my friends are away on the continent, and i am staying at the school through the holidays.' "how do you like it?' "'not at all; i am as lonely and miserable as a rat that has lost its hole.' "'well, come up to the house and give your clothes a brush. i suppose you know who i am?' "'yes, sir; you are squire aveling.' "when we arrived at the house, squire aveling introduced me to his wife, as beautiful and kind a lady as i have ever known, who, when she heard what i had done, fairly kissed me as if i had been her own son. both the squire and his wife would not hear of my going away until evening; so i stayed and had dinner with them, while their little girl--alice, they called her--took me round the gardens and grounds to show me all the beauties of the place. some preparations were going on at the end of the lawn, which was opposite the front of the house; a marquee was being erected, several swings were being put up, while the lawn itself was being mowed. my conductress informed me these preparations were to celebrate her birthday, which was the day after. "in the evening, the squire himself walked to ascot house with me, where he saw the doctor's wife, and asked her to allow me to visit them on the morrow, as his little girl was going to entertain a host of young friends, the number of which would not be complete unless i made one of them. permission was given, and i went to bed to dream of the pleasures the morrow was to bring. "i was up early enough on the following morning, no such thing as oversleeping one's-self when there was a prospect of pleasure in view. (how well it would be if we--you and i, young reader--could be as active when duty and not pleasure calls!) i oiled and scented my hair to perfection, put on my best frilled shirt, made jim, our odd boy, polish my boots until he could see his face in them; discarded my straw hat and took to the chimney-pot (_i.e._ my best beaver), saw that there was not a speck of dirt on my clothes, viewed myself all over in the glass, nearly dislocated my neck in trying to get a glimpse of my back, but found my efforts fruitless; and finally put on my best kid gloves, after which i found i had still two hours to spare, and dinner to eat in the meantime. "the time went by, and at length i set out for my destination, with both a bounding heart and a bounding step, the one keeping pace with the other, as though there existed some private agreement by which they acted in unison, and fulfilled the requirements of the old proverb, 'a light heart, a light step.' "i was kindly welcomed by the squire and his lady, and by them introduced to their two sons, who had returned the same day from visiting friends; they both thanked me heartily for the service i had rendered to their sister, whom, they said, they 'would not have had hurt for the world.' this i could well believe, as i watched her darting hither and thither, like a good little fairy, in and out among her friends, with a word for one, a kiss for another, and a caress for a third. "'i am so glad you are come,' said the fairy allie, taking me by the hand; 'come and be introduced to all my friends.' "i thought the introducing would never come to an end, so many were the friends with whom i had to shake hands; there were boys from school, and boys who never had been to school; there were short boys and tall boys, fat boys and lean boys; square boys and round boys; in fact, there were boys of all sorts and sizes; some who said very languidly, 'ah! how d'ye doo?' and others who seized me by the hand and vowed i was a 'brick.' "but the girls!--i beg their pardon, i mean young ladies!--how shall i describe them in all their loveliness and witchery! i never saw any like them before, with their long golden, or black, or silken curls, their white dresses and blue sashes, their bright faces and rosy lips! and their eyes! how can i describe them? i have seen a few diamonds in my time, but never any that sparkled so brightly as the eyes that flashed on me on this memorable day; indeed to compare them to diamonds was to offer them an insult. on early summer mornings, when the sun was shining over land and sea, i have seen the dew sparkling on every blade of grass, or in the cup or bell of every flower, with a whole rainbow of colours mirrored in their tiny globes, and such were the eyes that beamed on me each time that allie said, 'flo,' or 'clara,' or 'kate,' as the name chanced to be, 'this is the gentleman who saved me from the dog.' "i may say i felt extremely uncomfortable during the process of introduction, and was glad when it all ended; for what with eyes, and the being called 'quite a hero,' and 'a darling brave boy,' and so on _ad infinitum_, i experienced as queer sensations, as if i had been birched by price, or one of the under-masters. "but it came to an end at last, and the eldest young aveling invited me to see his live creatures. i never knew a boy so well off for pets as i found him to be; fine lop-eared rabbits that nibbled out of the palm of his hand, guinea-pigs, white mice, a large newfoundland dog, which would carry anything he wanted it to carry, or go any where, or fetch anything from a distance; a pony came trotting out of the stable, as soon as it heard his voice, neighing with pleasure. there were plenty of pigeons flying about, and i inquired whether he also claimed them, in reply to which he said,-"'no, they are my sister allie's; you should see her come into the yard; they fly round her, perch on her shoulders, pick food from between her lips, and coo with delight. indeed, every live thing about the place knows and loves allie. but come, let us be off, and give some of the girls a swing.' "it was rare fun swinging the girls; the hesitation with which each one seated herself, the injunction not to be sent 'too high;' the terrified scream given when sent off, the flutter of the light dress and the streaming of the curls in the wind, were things worth remembering. when tired with swinging, we started a game of kiss-in-the-ring, in which all heartily joined, except a few languid, swellish-looking fellows who thought it beneath their dignity, and begged to be excused, saying the game was 'too vulgar.' "'don't think of those noodles,' said the elder aveling; 'it is not because the game is "too vulgar," but because they have tight boots, and can't run. come along, it's rare fun!' "we had tea in the marquee; no end of cake and fruit, and jam and preserves. it looked, and was, a little different to school-fare: no one was stinted, and the good things disappeared like magic; indeed he must have been a clever magician who could have made them vanish as quickly. two or three of the youngsters had smothered their faces all over with marmalade and jam, and were sights to behold. one cried because he could not eat any more of the nice things. "'it strikes me very forcibly,' whispered the younger aveling, 'that that youngster over there will find himself under the necessity of having an additional spoonful of jam with a powder in it to-morrow.' "after tea, when it was dark, there was a dance on the lawn by torchlight, the torches being held by the servants; the music consisted of a flute, cornet, and violin, but the cornet proved of no use, as some urchin had bunged it up with a cork before the dance commenced. no particular dances were called for; the musicians played just what they chose, the dancers danced whatever they knew best. some, and these were the majority, knew nothing of dancing whatever, but threw their legs about just as fancy suggested; nevertheless the pleasure derived from this singular and altogether unique method of performing, was as intense as if done in the most scientific and approved manner. "we had supper in the large dining-hall. such a spread! it did one's heart good merely to see it. the pyramids of tarts! the mountains of jelly, shaking their sides like so many jolly, fat old men! the chickens, and ducks, and game, each one of which appeared to be saying, 'yes, come and eat me, i am willing to sacrifice myself for your pleasure!' i need not say what terrific inroads we made into such eatables, how we piled our fair partners' plates with the good things, until we were obliged to help eat them (the good things i mean, not the partners, although some of them looked good enough to eat). "squire aveling sat at the head of the long dining-table, and his fair lady at the bottom, each pressing their guests to make a good supper. no pressing was needed. when all had eaten as much as was possible, and nuts, oranges, and grapes and bon-bons took the places of the already vanished delicacies, squire aveling rose from his chair, and with the rap of a knife upon a plate commanded silence. he then, much to my discomfiture, spoke as follows:-"'with the exception of one, all now present are old friends of my darling allie, and this is not the first time i have seen you seated at this table, and i hope it will not be the last. ('hear, hear!') i hope you have all enjoyed yourselves. ('we have!' from all assembled.) i am glad to think so, and so is mrs aveling. but there is one here to-day whom most of you have never seen before--arthur hall. (here all eyes were directed to me.) yesterday, by his bravery and courage, he saved my darling allie from a great danger, of which you have all heard. i cannot thank him sufficiently for what he has done. i want you all to help me. now, each of you fill your glass. now stand up. let us drink to arthur hall with a three times three!' "i did not know whether i was on my head or my heels; i am sure i blushed, and must have looked anything but heroic. when the cheers were ended, the elder herbert aveling whispered that i must make a speech. i stood on my feet, and tried to say something in reply, but what i said i never could remember; all i know is that my health was again drunk in lemonade, which some imbibed so hurriedly that it went down the wrong way, and a chorus of coughing followed, under cover of which i resumed my seat. "and so the party ended. i assisted several fair ladies to their hats and shawls, and then went back to ascot house to enact all the scenes over again in my dreams." as hall finished his story, the room door opened and one of the under-masters entered to ascertain if the boys were in bed and the lights out. "what! not asleep yet, boys?" he exclaimed, as he heard some one commenting on the story. "no, sir," one replied, "we are story-telling, and don't feel much inclined for sleep." "story-telling, eh!" said the master, who was a general favourite with the boys; "suppose i were to tell you a story, what would you say?" "say? why, say it would be first-class," exclaimed hall, jumping out of bed. "yes, yes, do mr arnold," echoed the rest. mr arnold entered, and, closing the door, seated himself on leslie's bed, while all the boys crowded round him, dressed in nothing but their night-shirts. "well, now for a start," said mr arnold; "you may call it, '_our ned_'." "all right, sir, go a-head," was the general cry. chapter vi. our ned. "i always feel inclined," began mr arnold, "to pity a boy who has no friend or companion to whom he can look up with admiration and love, and whom he regards as quite a hero. it is a good thing ever to have something or some one above us, at whom we can gaze, and after whom we can strive. it should be our aim through life to look up, and not down; men do not climb to great heights by keeping their eyes intently fixed on the ground, but, on the contrary, by looking forward and upward. and no one can say he is in want of a hero to imitate and love, when the greatest hero of all the world is perpetually before him. "'our ned' was my hero, and though some people would have it he was a trifle wild, i never found him so, and certainly, after all these years, cannot bring my mind to think so now. he was the boldest, bravest, kindest, most true-hearted and generous boy, that man, woman, or child ever set eyes on. true, he loved a bit of harmless mischief for the fun of the thing, but was far too noble-spirited to do a mean or cowardly action, and would scorn to take an unjust and bullying advantage over a boy who was weaker or younger than himself. some boys think they are exhibiting a manliness of character if they tease and torment those who are unable to protect themselves, instead of which they are doing just about as mean a thing as boys can do. what is the use of possessing strength if we exercise it in oppressing others? a true boy, or man, should reserve his strength to protect those who are unable to take care of themselves; and as you go through the world, you will find plenty of that sort. "i loved our ned second only to my mother, and i know he loved me in return. we did not express the love we cherished for each other like girls at a boarding-school, by hugging and kissing, and 'dearing' and 'ducking' at every spare moment; no, boys show their love after a different fashion, and kisses with them go for very little, and are considered rather a nuisance than otherwise. if he had a shilling, half of it was mine; i might use his books, pencils, marbles, bat, ball, or, for that matter, anything that was his, and he in his turn was welcome to anything i possessed. if he saw a big boy bullying me, he wasted no words in useless remonstrances, but instead, off with his jacket and fought him at once. you must not think him a quarrelsome boy, who always wanted to be fighting; nothing of the sort, but he cherished a firm conviction--and i don't think he was far wrong--that big, hulking bullies deserved no better treatment than that contained in good, hard, knockdown blows, and these he never hesitated to give, did the occasion warrant it. of course, he sometimes got the worst of it, but he never minded an atom, not he; he would pick himself up on such occasions, spitting the blood and dirt from his mouth, and cheerily say, as he saw my look of concern: 'all right, archie, not dead yet; better luck next time!' and his jacket would be on, and he walking by my side as calmly as possible, without once alluding to his wounds and bruises. "yes, ned was a brave fellow. i remember his coming home one afternoon with a fearfully nasty bite in his left arm, some stingy, big brute of a cur had given him, because he would not let it worry a little girl carrying a big basket, whom it was terrifying into convulsions with yelping and snarling, and making sudden and ferocious grabs at her bare little legs. he gave the beast a kick, and it turned and fastened its long yellow-looking teeth in his arm, and almost bit it through. our mother was in a terrible way, and wanted to have the dog killed, but nobody knew whose it was, or where it had gone. the doctor burned the wound; and although he turned pale, our ned did not cry out, but stood it, as the doctor admiringly said, 'like a hero.' when it was bandaged up he put on his jacket, saying, 'well, that's over.' mother did not appear to think so; she looked troubled and anxious, shook her head doubtfully, and said, 'i am afraid not.' then brushing back his hair caressingly with her hand, kissing his forehead, and looking into his dark brown, honest, and fearless eyes, added, half chidingly, half admiringly, 'ned, my boy, though i would not for the world that you should be different from what you are, a brave, true-hearted lad, yet i sadly fear your high spirit will get you into many a trouble.' "'never mind the trouble, mamma,' replied our ned, 'so long as it keeps me from doing a mean or cowardly action.' "he was very nearly getting into trouble once, however, for interfering between a brutal tramp and his wife. there was no principle our ned adhered to so firmly, as that no provocation, however great, justified a boy in striking a girl, or a man a woman; he held to this as staunchly as kings to the doctrine of divine right. 'depend upon it, archie,' he would say, 'a boy who would strike a girl is a mean-spirited puppy, and a man who would strike a woman is a cowardly cur, and one deserves drowning, and the other hanging! why, i read that even dogs respect the sex, and no respectable dog would so far forget himself as to attack his female companion. i can't say whether the feminines are quite so particular; i am not so certain on that point, but then you must make every allowance, they have a deal to put up with. no, no, archie; rest assured there is nothing so mean and cowardly as striking women and girls.' "thinking thus, boys, it will not surprise you to learn that 'our ned' was in continual hot water by making himself the champion of every girl he saw ill-treated. was some little girl having her hair pulled, or her arms pinched, by a thoughtless or cruel urchin, directly she caught sight of my brother, she ran to him for protection, while her tormentor scuttled away equally fast in an opposite direction, his ears tingling in anticipation of the coming correction. was a larger and older girl threatened by some ill-natured brother, or brother's chum, she felt herself safe if our ned made his appearance. in short, he was always ready, at whatever odds, to do battle for the 'weaker sex,' as he jestingly called them. this trait in his character procured for him the name of the 'young don quixote,' and he was as frequently called the 'young don' as he was by his baptismal name. "but to return to the tramp. we were walking home one afternoon from school, when, just as we turned a bend in the road, we came close upon a man and woman quarrelling; the man was in the act of striking the woman with a stick as we hove in sight. our ned's face flushed up as he saw the man's action, and clenching his hands, he was rushing forward, when i caught him by the jacket, imploring him to stay. he flashed a look, half indignant, half surprised, back at me, exclaiming, 'what, archie?' and was off. the stick had descended before he reached the scene of contention, but he thrust himself between the victim and her tyrant, who was preparing for a repetition of the blow. 'you big, cowardly brute!' he cried; 'haven't you manhood enough left in you not to strike a woman?' "the fellow seemed actually paralysed with surprise at ned's audacity; he gazed at him for a moment or two with amazement, while the stick which had been in the act of descending remained suspended in the air. the man, however, soon recovered himself, and looked so fierce and brutal that i trembled with apprehension for ned's safety. "'get out of the way, you young fool, or i'll be the death of you,' said the man, trying to thrust him on one side. "'not unless you promise not to strike the woman,' replied ned, undauntedly. "'what?' roared the infuriated fellow; 'why, she's my own wife!' "'more shame, then, for you to touch her.' "the man swore a terrible oath, seized ned by the throat, struck fiercly at him with the stick, and finally threw him to the other side of the road, where he fell all in a heap, after which the fellow walked off in the direction of the town we had just left. i hastened to my brother, and seeing him lie there so still, and with his face discoloured, i concluded he was dead, and cried out with a great burst of grief, 'he's killed, he's killed!' "'hush! laddie, he's not done for,' said a rough but kindly voice, and looking up i saw the woman, on whose behalf he had done battle, bending over him. 'he's not dead; untie his neckerchief, and give him some air; he's only dazed a bit; he's a brave laddie though. there, see, he's coming round! but i must be off. a brave laddie that!' "ned was soon able to rise to his feet and resume his walk homeward; he was a little shaky on the legs, and was compelled to lean heavily on my shoulder as he limped along. "'you see, archie,' he said, 'it was such a choker; the beast griped so hard, i couldn't get a chance to kick his shins; it was all grip and tumble. i think he must have hit me on the head, it feels rather sore.' brave old ned, throat and head both bore marks of the fellow's violence for more than a week after. "such was 'our ned.' he was always doing something to make my heart throb with pride, and a look of pleasure kindled in our mother's eyes. he was a brother to be proud of, i can tell you. "once every year we shut up house and paid a visit to a brother of my father's, who resided by the sea shore, on the eastern coast of our island. this visit was always a source of pleasure to ned and myself. living inland, the sight of old father ocean, in calm or in storm, was like the face of a dear old friend which we hail with delight. we usually contrived to make the best of our six weeks' stay, and would crowd as much pleasure as it was possible into every day; no moment hung heavily on our hands, the time passed only too rapidly, so that at the end of each visit we appeared to have been there but three, instead of six weeks. "our uncle was an uncle that would gladden any boy's heart; he delighted to have us staying in the house; he said it made the old place cheery and pleasant, for he had the misfortune to be a bachelor; and with the exception of his old housekeeper--whom we boys half worried to death--and his female servants, he saw no 'women folk,' all the year round, but our mother. he was one of the right sort, always planning pic-nics, fishing and rowing excursions; and kept his purse continually in his hand, ready to tip us handsomely, for he appeared to have an instinct that money burnt a hole in our pockets. "but it was seldom we were in the house, except at meals and to sleep; the cliffs and beach proved too attractive, and we were soon 'hail well met!' with all the fishermen, and speedily became acquainted with the inside of each cottage, and the respective qualities of each boat, as we were with the humours and dispositions of their several owners. many were the rows, and sails the fishermen gave us; morning, noon, and night, we were ever welcome. "one of our chief pleasures was to go out fishing with them in the early mornings. provided the weather was fine, we would be up, and out, and down on the beach long before any of our uncle's domestics were astir, and as soon as the boatmen appeared with whom we were going, it was in boat, out oars, and away we went, skimming joyously over the waters, which already sparkled with the beams of the rising sun. "ah, what happy mornings those were. how joyously we laughed, and joked, and shouted; how full of life and health we were; no sorrow as yet had chilled our hearts, wrinkled our brows, or made our spirits look sadly from out our eyes; no, everything was bright, and tipped with the golden light of the morning of life. all the world lay before us, and the unknown and untried future seemed to beckon us onward, and we were only too eager to follow and see what it had in store. "it was during one of these visits paid to our uncle, and near to its close, that we lost 'our ned.' the weather had been unusually fine for september, the sun had been hot and bright, and the sky cloudless. week after week had glided by, and there had been no rain, or cloud; things inland began to look brown and scorched, while the ground showed great gaps and fissures, as though the earth were thirsty, and was opening its mouth for water. but for a visit to the sea coast the weather could not have been more suitable, at least so ned and i thought. we had but a week longer to stay, when, one evening, the weather gave unmistakable signs of a change. 'there will be a storm to-night,' said the fishermen, as they hauled their boats up high and dry upon the beach beyond reach of the sea. the sea-gulls flew screaming hither and thither; the wind began a low moaning wail, as of pain, because of the fury gathering within its bosom, and the sea fell with a sullen kind of roar upon the sands, while the clouds gathered darker and blacker along the horizon, presently spreading in thick heavy masses over the face of the sky. "about six the storm burst in all its fury. i had never witnessed such an one before, and trembled with apprehension as i heard the frantic howling of the wind, and the fearful roaring of the sea, which gathered itself up in mighty waves and dashed against the tall cliffs as if with the intention of washing the whole earth away, added to which the thunder pealed over head, and the livid lightning gleamed and flashed round the sky. 'what a night!' cried our mother. 'god have mercy on our poor men at sea!' "ned and myself could not rest in the house; we felt we must be out battling with the storm, and out we accordingly went. it was hard work to keep our feet, the force of the wind was such that, two or three times we were compelled to hold by each other to prevent ourselves from being blown down. as we made our way slowly to the beach, we became aware that something of interest was occurring, for we noticed a cluster of men making frantic gestures, and pointing eagerly seaward. following with our eyes the direction their hands indicated, we were startled by seeing a large vessel driving rapidly on shore. she was in evident and imminent peril, the wind had torn what canvass she carried into ribbons, while the crew appeared to have lost all control over her movements, the vessel not answering to her helm. we could see some of them cutting away at one of the masts, and others employed in loading a gun, which was presently fired as a signal of distress. we took all this in at a glance, yet not very distinctly, as darkness was settling down over sea and land; but the vivid flashing of the lightning enabled us to obtain glimpses of the state of affairs on board the doomed ship. "we soon joined the group of fishermen on the beach--among whom were several women with cheeks blanched to a deadly whiteness, and a kind of wild light glowing in their eyes--who were discussing the propriety of launching a boat to aid in rescuing those who, if no help speedily reached them, would in all certainty find a watery grave. the men were divided among themselves, some being for, and some against making the attempt; and words ran high, while gun after gun came booming across the water, each sounding nearer than its predecessor. at length one old boatman shouted: 'it shall never be said i stood by and saw my fellow-creatures drown before my eyes without making an effort to save them. those who are for trying, follow me!' and away he ran, followed by some three or four others, who with much difficulty launched a boat on the troubled waters, into which they sprang; and seating themselves, each man seized his oar, while the old boatman took the helm, and with a shout from those on the beach, they commenced their dangerous task. "in the excitement of the moment i had forgotten ned, and was greatly terrified by seeing him jump into the boat after the men. i shouted to him to come back, but i doubt whether he heard my voice, so fearfully loud roared both wind and sea. just at that moment my uncle came up and inquired for ned. i could make no answer, but pointed to the fast receding boat, which at one moment could be discerned riding on the top of a huge wave, and the next hid from sight in its hollow. "'you don't mean to say,' shouted my uncle, frantically, 'that ned's in that boat?' "'what's that you say?' screamed a voice behind us. "we turned hastily round, and there stood my mother, without bonnet or shawl, her long hair loose, and streaming in the wind, and both hands clasped tightly over her bosom. boys, i shall never forget that face. years and years have gone by since then, but that white face, so full of horror, haunts me still. we tried to get her to go back home, but we might as well have tried to move a mountain; she would not stir from the beach, and all we could do was to try and infuse into her hope which, alas! we did not ourselves possess. "meanwhile the boat was steadily approaching the doomed vessel, which had struck, and over which the waves dashed; a flash of lightning for an instant revealed one of the men standing in the bows of the boat in the act of throwing a rope to those on board, and another showed that some were being transported from the vessel into the boat; then the rope was seen to be cast off and the men commenced rowing back to shore. would they ever reach it in safety? how long the time appeared. at length the boat was discerned nearing the beach, and men had already rushed breast high into the sea in readiness to seize it and aid in drawing it safely to shore, when a huge wave was seen to overwhelm and swamp it in an instant. "a cry of horror rose high above the noise of the tempest; and men and women ran frantically hither and thither, unable to lend a helping hand to those drowning close to land. a rope was tied round the body of one, who, rushing into the boiling surf, firmly clasped one poor wretch in his arms, and both were drawn safely to shore. again, and yet again, did the noble fellow rush into the angry sea, each time rescuing one from death. how eagerly we bent over each, as they were brought to shore, to see if our ned was the fortunate one, and how heavy grew our hearts as each inspection proved fruitless. seven had been thus rescued from a watery grave--a woman among the number--ere our ned was brought to shore, and then the sea had beaten the brave life out of him, and it was only the senseless body we received, while in his arms, and held so tightly in his death grip, that she could not be removed, was a little three-year-old girl. we afterwards learnt that when the heavy sea struck the boat, ned was seen to snatch up the child and clasp it firmly in his arms. and now both were dead. ours was a sorrowful home that night; my mother's grief was something awful to see, and such as i never wish to witness again, and over which i will draw a veil of silence. "our ned was buried in a little churchyard not far from the sea, and all the fishermen along the coast turned out and followed the coffin to the grave, and stood reverently round, with their caps in their hand, and their weather-beaten features working convulsively, while the clergyman read the burial service. the little child was laid in the same grave; she was the daughter of the rescued woman, and the master of the ill-fated ship--who with many another went to his long home on that awful night. "my mother, boys, never recovered from the shock poor ned's death gave her: she drooped and drooped, until god's messenger came to lead her to her lost son. "one of my companions, who had a turn for verse-making, put into my hand a few lines which he said were suggested by poor ned's death. they were not of much account, but i learnt them, and sometimes even now repeat them as a trifling memento of a lost brother: autumn winds are in the sky; autumn leaves are whirling by; autumn rain falls pattering; autumn time goes clattering on in storm, while onward borne to desolate shore, billows rage and roar: on dark waters tost, a plaything lost, the big ship creaks and groans, starts and moans. and sailors' oaths, and sailors' prayers, to wild night cast, with sea-bird's screams, are carried by the blast, to happy home, where a mother dreams; while the son she bore, lies still on the shore. at break of day, the salt sea spray is washing the sand from the clenched hand; and the breezes twirl the glossy curl; and the silent face, without a trace of life, lies upturned to the skies. and the sightless eyes, their last work done, stare up at the sun. "that, boys, was the end of poor ned. those who die young escape much sorrow, says the proverb; and the old heathens used to say that those who died young the gods loved; but we hear a more sure voice saying, '_blessed are the dead that die in the lord._'" chapter vii. the flood. every boy had gone home with the exception of leslie, their farewell shouts still echoed in his ears as he looked gloomily from one of the deserted school-room windows out into the equally deserted playground; how silent and lonely everything seemed, and to make matters worse, the rain had re-commenced to fall. how sad leslie felt; he pictured to himself the warm and loving reception each of his departed school-boy friends would receive on reaching home. yes, he pictured it all to himself as he stood watching the falling rain, and the hot tears gushed from his eyes, and, laying his head upon the window sill, he burst into uncontrollable sobs. how long he remained thus he knew not, but he was roused from his painful sense of desolation by a gentle hand being laid upon his bowed head, and a kind voice saying, "my poor boy! i am very sorry you are left behind; there, there, do not cry, brighten up, and come into the parlour with maud and me," and mrs price wiped the tears from his face, and brushing back his hair, imprinted a kiss upon his forehead. this kindness only made leslie feel more inclined to cry, but repressing his tears, and placing one hand in mrs price's, he said, as they walked to the parlour, "you are very kind, ma'am, and your voice is as soft as my own mamma's; thank you very much." "there, that is a brave boy; you must not let maud see you cry." "no, but i could not help it, i did so long to go home, and it is such a disappointment to be kept at school." "my dear child, the world and life are full of disappointments." "are they, ma'am?" "yes, and we must all try to meet our share with a brave heart." "are they all as bitter as mine?" "some are much worse, my boy." "i will try to be brave, ma'am; but i really did try to put the linchpin back." maud was delighted to have a companion and playfellow who could be with her all day, and was soon engaged in planning various excursions to different, but favourite scenes in the neighbourhood. "we will spend one long day," she said, "all by ourselves; we will get up very early in the morning, and cook shall fill a basket with nice things to eat; then we will row down the river until we reach the wood, in which we will roam about all day, having our dinner under the boughs of some large tree, and be for all the world like gipsies; will that not be capital?" and maud clapped her hands with glee. "yes," said leslie, "and i will take a long stick, which shall be my lance, and i will pretend to be a knight who has rescued a beautiful lady from a cruel band of robbers." "but who is to be the beautiful lady?" inquired maud. "why, you, of course, for i think you very beautiful." "suppose real robbers do come," said maud, opening her large eyes to the full extent at the bare supposition. "oh, i would protect you," said leslie, with fervour. "should you be really strong enough?" "i think i should, if danger threatened you, maud." "is not leslie brave, mamma?" said maud, turning to mrs price. "yes, my dear," was the answer. "i don't know ma'am," said leslie blushing, "but i think every one is brave when those they love are in danger." "but, my dear children, if the rain keeps falling as it has done to-day, your excursion will have to be postponed for some days." there seemed every prospect that mrs price's prophecy would be fulfilled; the rain fell incessantly, day after day; men shook their head, saying, "it will be a bad season for farmers, and the poor, if no break come in the clouds." but day after day passed away, and no bright sun broke through and dispersed the rain clouds; for miles round, the fields appeared nothing but lakes of water, and some parts of the road were in the same condition. the river running in front of ascot house had now become rapid and turbulent. all the boats belonging to the boys had been carried into the school-yard, that they might not drift away. mrs price was full of fear and alarm; she was afraid the river would overflow. the doctor was away from home, but she wrote him urgent letters requesting him to return, for she felt her position to be somewhat critical should danger arise, with only two children and two women servants, the rest having gone away to visit their friends. one evening the wind began to rise, while the rain seemed to fall faster than ever. mrs price, and maud, and leslie, stood looking out into the twilight. the mother was pale with anxiety, as she listened to the increasing noise of the wind. "do you think there is any danger, mrs price?" said leslie, touching her arm. "i cannot say, my dear, but i hope not; i wish the doctor was here, i should know what to do then, but to-morrow we will move into the town in case any thing should happen." "if you please, mum," said a servant, entering, "the back yard is that full of water that our kitchen will be flooded if something ain't done." "well, mary, i don't know what can be done; i will come and see," and mrs price left the room. "ma' seems very much troubled," remarked maud. "yes, maud, your mamma is afraid the place will be flooded," said leslie. "i hope not, for then we might all be drowned." "yes, unless some one came and rescued us." it was with a heavy and foreboding heart that mrs price retired to rest. she made her little daughter sleep in her own room, while leslie was placed in one much nearer her own than that he had previously occupied. "good night, leslie," said mrs price, kissing him; "be sure and not forget to say your prayers, for we all need god's help." leslie had no idea how long he had been asleep, when he started up in bed with an undefinable impression that something was wrong. he sat rubbing his eyes, and but half awake--a confused sound, he knew not what, fell upon his ear; it seemed as if some dreadful strife was going on outside his window, something seemed in a terrible fury, raging wildly. as his senses became more collected, he listened, and then he heard sounds which made him at once spring from his bed, slip on his trousers, and rush to the window; he hurriedly forced it open, and looked out. the night was still dark, and the wind still high, but something unusual was taking place in the playground directly underneath where he stood; for a minute or two he could not make out what it could be, but as his eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness, he could distinctly make it out to be the surging and roaring of water, which appeared to increase even as he gazed. "why," he thought, "the banks have given way, and the river has overflown--the house will be washed away." then his thoughts instantly reverted to mrs price and maud, perhaps they were unacquainted with the danger which threatened them, which must be greater than his, for their room was on a lower floor. without a moment's thought about the risk he might possibly run, half dressed as he was, he opened his room-door, and groped his way down stairs as quickly as he could. he could hear the water dashing up against the stairs, how far down he knew not, but, judging from the sounds which it made, he concluded it must be very near mrs price's bedroom; this fact made him hurry faster, and not quite so cautiously as before, the consequences of which was his slipping down a number of the stairs, and falling plump into the water, which had already reached the landing; it was not deep, however, so he was quickly upon his feet again, and a moment or two after hammering with might and main at the door of the room in which maud and her mamma were sleeping. "who is there?" came mrs price's voice. "i, leslie ross." "what do you want?" "you and maud must get up directly, the river has overflown, and the house is surrounded by water; make haste or it will be too late, it has already reached the landing." "wait one moment, leslie, i will procure a light--the water has invaded my room, i feel the carpet is soaked." sooner than leslie could have thought possible, mrs price had dressed herself and maud, and appeared pale and anxious at her chamber door. "why, child, you are not dressed." "i had not time, the danger was too great." "here, carry maud up into your room, while i wake the servants." "don't be long, mamma dear," cried maud, greatly terrified. "no, darling. hold this light, while leslie carries you." leslie had to put forth all his strength to carry his precious burden, yet he contrived to whisper to her not to fear, for he would protect her. but they were both much frightened when they looked over the bannisters and saw the eddying and whirling water. "you are all wet, leslie!" said mrs price as she left him with maud in his arms. "yes, i fell in coming down." maud was safely conveyed to his room, where he wrapped her round in a blanket which he took from his bed, he then hastily dressed himself so as to be in readiness for any emergency that might arise. mrs price soon joined them with the terrified servants, whose pale faces and trembling bodies almost made maud cry, but with her mamma's arms around her her fears were soon quieted. "thank god we are all safe," ejaculated mrs price. "yes, at present," said leslie; "but i wish daylight was here so that we could understand what our position really is." "the house is strong, leslie, i don't think we can be washed away," said mrs price. "listen, mamma, what a noise the water makes!" "yes, darling, but it shall not hurt you." "i will go and ascertain whether it is still rising," said leslie, taking one of the candles and leaving the room. he found the water rising fast, and felt that they must make their way to the attics if they did not wish to be swamped. he hurried back with the dismal intelligence, and mrs price immediately acted upon his advice, and the whole party were soon assembled in the top-most room of the house. "we can go no higher," said mrs price; "but, children, let us pray to god for help." they all knelt down, and in earnest tones and very fervent words, mrs price implored help from the great helper of all mankind, in their time of peril and danger. when they arose from their knees, the little party felt more strengthened and hopeful. what a refuge god is in times of peril. will my young readers remember this? the time passed slowly away; the terror of the little party was every moment increased by the loud tumult of the water, and the terrible shocks which the house every instant received, as some large substance was hurled against it; they began to be afraid that it would not stand; that the waters would wash it away. as this fear gained ascendency, they longed more than ever for daylight to appear, that they might fully realize their position. "with daylight, help must come," said mrs price, trying to soothe maud, who was crying, "for many must know of our danger." leslie did his utmost to quiet his own fears, and infuse hope into the hearts of the rest; he tried to be brave and cheerful; and many times during that dreadful night mrs price admired the boy, and blessed him for his faithfulness and courage; and afterwards she said, it was him alone that kept them from utter despair. daylight at length came, but it only served to reveal the hopelessness of their situation. from the window of their refuge nothing was to be seen but a turbulent mass of heaving and seething water, in which uprooted trees were being tossed about, the thatched roofs of cottages, and pieces of household furniture; now and then the drowned carcase of a pig or sheep would float in sight; but look where they might, or in whatsoever direction, nothing but desolation met their view. the little party looked into each other's eyes to see only the reflection of their own despair. "look out, leslie," said mrs price, "and see if any help is approaching." "i cannot see a living creature in sight in any direction," said leslie, after a long and anxious gaze. "god help us!" murmured the anxious mother, pressing her daughter closer to her bosom. oh how powerless leslie felt, that he could not effectually help maud and her mother, that he could not rescue them from danger, and place them in some safe retreat. "what is that, leslie?" cried mrs price, as the house received a violent shock. "a large tree, ma'am," said leslie, looking out. "i am fearful the house will not stand; is the water subsiding?" leslie shook his head; the water had risen so as to be but a few feet from their last refuge. suddenly leslie gave a cry; he had been leaning out of the window, and an object caught his eye as it floated and drifted on the water. "what is it, leslie--help?" inquired mrs price. "one of the school boats, ma'am; if it would only float close to the window we might all get into it, for the house is terribly shaken." "pray god that it may!" was the fervent ejaculation. leslie intently watched the progress of the boat, as the waters tossed it hither and thither; at one moment he believed it would float quite near, and then again his hopes were dashed, as it was whirled in another direction. at length, after his hopes had been alternately raised and dashed for many times, to his consternation he found it would pass the house a dozen yards distant. what could be done? it seemed their only hope from destruction. how could it be reached and entered? the distance was not great; should he swim to it? he looked at mrs price and maud, and nerved his heart to the task. "what are you about, leslie?" cried mrs price, as she saw him climbing on to the window sill. "i am going to swim to the boat." "my child, you must not; the risk is too great!" "have no fear, ma'am, it is for your sake and maud's," replied leslie; and without further words, he plunged into the water and struck boldly out for the boat. he found the turbulence of the waters stronger than he anticipated, and was compelled to put forth all his strength to prevent being carried away. the lessons he had learnt from old crusoe were of good service now. he had to put them all into practical use, or his brave attempt would have ended in death. he gained the boat at last, but he was so exhausted that it was with difficulty he could climb into it, and when he had done so he was obliged to rest himself, to recover a little measure of strength. he found, as he knew he should, the oars safely secured, one to either side of the boat, and by their aid it was not long before he stood beneath the window from which mrs price was anxiously watching him. "will you place maud in, while i prevent the boat from knocking against the wall of the house." leslie's head was on a level with the window sill, so that it was not far for maud to be lowered. the feat was successfully accomplished; then mrs price turned to her two servants, desiring them to enter first. "make haste," said leslie, for the girls hesitated, "or the boat will be dashed to pieces." they entered with fear and trembling; mrs price was the last to leave the room. "all safe!" cried leslie, pushing away the boat. mrs price first wrapped a blanket she had brought with her round maud, and then, turning to leslie, seized one of the oars, saying, "i can row." "you must all sit very still, for the boat is rather small to contain so many," said leslie. they rowed in the direction of the little market-town, but their progress was slow, as they had constantly to steer wide to prevent being run down by the floating _dã¨bris_. they had not proceeded half way from the house when one of the servants gave a great cry, and, looking round, leslie perceived a large boat approaching with several men in it; he raised a shout, which was heartily returned by them, as they turned their boat in his direction. what was the astonishment of mrs price, as the boat ran alongside of their own, to see that her husband was one of the number. "thank god you are safe," he said, as he clasped wife and child in his arms. "yes, and we owe it, under providence, to leslie ross," said mrs price. "my brave boy, i thank you heartily," said the husband, in broken accents. all were soon conveyed to a place of safety, while the men started again to try and rescue others from their equally perilous positions. happily no lives were lost, but the destruction of property was very great; and it was several days ere the water subsided, so as to allow the work of renovation to commence. mr and mrs price found a refuge in the house of a friend, where mr ross speedily joined them, being anxious for the safety of his son, having read and heard accounts of the flood. "i think," said mr ross, smilingly, one evening, "that we may forgive leslie the punishment for his last 'lark.'" "yes, indeed," said the doctor, "i owe him more than ever i shall be able to repay." "some debts are sweet to owe," said mrs price, kissing leslie. "to-morrow we must start for home," said mr ross, "for your mamma will be anxious to see you." my young readers can picture to themselves what a reception leslie received when he reached home--all who have affectionate and loving parents can. leslie's adventures during the flood sobered him somewhat, he became more thoughtful, and the consequence was that he never again indulged in a "lark" without first believing it would have no unhappy results; yet he could never feel sorry for taking out the linchpin from the farmer's cart, although he was sorry that the farmer broke his arm. ascot house withstood the fury of the flood, but dr price thought it advisable to have his school somewhat further removed from the dangerous stream. as soon as everything could be satisfactorily arranged, the scholars once more assembled, among whom leslie received a most hearty welcome, and was regarded as quite a hero, while the story of the flood and his adventures became one of the legends of ascot house school. images generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) a picture-book of merry tales. [illustration: _the dwarfs' capers._] [illustration: title page] a picture-book of merry tales. _london: bosworth and harrison, 215, regent street._ contents. page i. the birth of owlglass, and how he was thrice baptized 1 ii. how all the people of the village, both men and women, made complaints of young owlglass; and how, whilst on horseback with his father, without his knowledge, he made game of them all 5 iii. how owlglass crept into a beehive; and how, when two thieves came in the night to steal it, he managed to set them quarrelling, so that they came to blows and left the hive behind them 10 iv. how owlglass ate a roasted fowl off the spit, and did only half work 15 v. how owlglass was forbidden the duchy of luneburgh, and bought himself land of his own 19 vi. of the manner in which owlglass paints a picture for the count of hessen, and how he persuades him that those of base birth could not see the painting 23 vii. how, at erfurt, owlglass taught a donkey to read 29 viii. how owlglass brought it about that the watch of nurenberg fell into the water 33 ix. how owlglass appears as dentist and doctor 37 x. how owlglass sells his horse to a jew, and on what terms 41 xi. how owlglass sells an old hat for more than its weight in gold 45 xii. how owlglass, by means of a false confession, cheated the priest of riesenburgh out of his horse; and how he steals another priest's snuff-box 48 xiii. how a bootmaker of brunswick larded owlglass's boots; and how he was paid for doing so 56 xiv. how owlglass hires himself to a tailor; and how well he executes his master's orders 60 xv. how owlglass caused three tailors to fall from their work-board, and persuaded the people that the wind had blown them down 63 xvi. how owlglass tells a truth to a smith, to his wife, his assistant, and his maidservant, for which he gets his horse shod 66 xvii. how owlglass hired himself to a merchant as cook and coachman 70 xviii. how owlglass cheated a horse-dealer at wismar, and afterwards cheated the public 78 xix. how owlglass sowed rogues 82 xx. how owlglass hired himself to a barber, and entered his house through the window 85 xxi. how owlglass frightened an innkeeper at eisleben with a dead wolf 90 xxii. the grateful animals 95 xxiii. tim jarvis 106 xxiv. the shoemaker and the dwarfs 115 xxv. the countryman and the jew 121 xxvi. my watch 130 xxvii. fittletetot 140 xxviii. the wee bannock 148 xxix. jock and his mother 154 xxx. the irish highwayman 161 xxxi. fiddling jackey 169 xxxii. teeny-tiny 199 xxxiii. the cannibal cow 203 xxxiv. the three men of gotham on nottingham bridge 224 xxxv. the man of gotham and his cheeses 231 xxxvi. twelve men of gotham go out fishing together 236 xxxvii. the cobbler's wager 243 xxxviii. the miller and his donkey 256 xxxix. dr. dobbs, and his horse nobbs 263 xl. the brownie 268 [decoration] i. _the birth of owlglass, and how he was thrice baptized._ in the duchy of brunswick is a forest called seib, and in this lies the village of kneitlingen, where the good child owlglass was born. the life of this child does not confirm the old saying, "like father like son," for his father, by name elaus owlglass, was a quiet respectable man, and his mother, anna, was the very model of a woman, for she was meek and a woman of few words. no particular circumstance attending the birth of our hero is handed down to us, and it therefore was, probably, not very different to other births; but it is recorded that he enjoyed the benefit of three distinct baptisms. there does not seem to have been any church in the village where he was born, for when the time came for him to be christened he was sent by his parents to the village of amptlen, where he received the name of tyll owlglass. the place is still remembered as the scene of this ceremony; but also because close by there stood once a castle of the same name, destroyed, as a nest of robbers, by the good people of magdeburgh, with the help of their neighbours. at the time we are speaking of it was the custom of the land that the godfathers and godmothers, together with the nurse and child, should adjourn, immediately after the christening, to an alehouse, there to enjoy themselves; and that part of the ceremony was not forgotten or neglected on this occasion. now it was a long way from the church to the ale-house, and the day was very hot, so that the party indulged rather freely in the refreshing beverage, delaying their homeward journey as long as possible. at length, however, they had to get on their way; and the nurse, whose head was rather giddy and legs not over-steady, had very unpleasant visions of a narrow footpath with ground sloping down into a muddy ditch, and she had serious forebodings of how that part of the journey would be accomplished. the nearer she drew to the dreaded spot the more her nervousness increased, and young tyll, whether that she clutched him more firmly to her, or whether he too had forebodings of danger, began to kick and struggle in her arms, so that her stopping on the brink of danger, to gather steadiness and courage, was of no manner of use, for just as one foot rested on a loose stone a violent plunge of the child threw her fairly off her legs, and threw himself over her head into the ditch below. but weeds are not easily extirpated; so no harm happened to the child excepting that he was covered with mud and slime. then he was taken home and washed. [illustration: _owlglass's second baptism._] thus owlglass was, on one and the same day, thrice baptized. first, in all proper order and due form, then in the muddy ditch, and lastly, in warm water to cleanse him from the dirt. this was symbolic of the many mishaps of his future life, for evil is sure to fall back upon its perpetrator. ii. _how all the people of the village, both men and women, made complaints of young owlglass; and how, whilst on horseback with his father, without his knowledge, he made game of them all._ our young acquaintance, tyll, began at an early age to show signs of a decidedly marked character. he was full of life and spirits, as the other children of the village found out to their cost, for no sooner could he crawl amongst them than he played all manner of tricks. in truth he was more like a monkey than the child of respectable christian parents, and when he had reached the age of four years he became daily more mischievous. he played his companions as many tricks daily as he was inches high, and, as "ill weeds grow apace," he soon became almost unbearable; but yet they could not do without him, so quick was his invention at all games, which, however, he so contrived that they were sure to end in a quarrel, taking care to get out of it himself before the blows came; and he would afterwards mock and laugh at those who had got hurt. he was even more dangerous away than with them, for he was then most certainly planning mischief. he would find out holes in the ground, which he carefully covered with sticks and grass, and then foremost in the race to a mark he had set up a little beyond the hole, he would stop short, in time to watch the others tumble one over the other into the trap he had set them. neither were the girls spared. unknown to them he would fasten their petticoats together with thorns, as they sat on the ground, and then frighten them, so as to make them jump up suddenly, when he did not fail to point out the rents in their dresses, and laugh at them for the scolding and beating they would get at home. a hundred different tricks he played them, so that every day some were sure to be sent home crying and complaining. true, he got many a thrashing from boys bigger and stronger than himself; but so sure was he to repay them tenfold, in one way or another, that both big and small were afraid of him. nor were the parents spared when he could safely do mischief to man or woman, so that constant complaints were made to his father, to whom, however, he knew how to defend and excuse himself so artfully that the good simple man thought his dear child shamefully ill-used. [illustration: _young owlglass mocking the villagers._] tired, at length, of these daily complaints, his father determined to take him out with him when he knew the street would be full, in order to show the people how well and soberly his boy could behave; so, taking him behind him on his horse, having first impressed upon him that he must be very good, they started off together. now what did this obedient child do? he put his finger up to his nose, and by various other insulting gestures mocked the people as they passed, till there was a general outcry against the mischievous little imp. his father was sorely puzzled; and tyll, pretending to cry, said to him, "you hear, dear father, what the people say. you know that i am sitting here quietly, without saying a single word, and yet all complain of me." his father hereupon places his dear child before him. young hopeful, now seated before his father, could do nothing but make faces and put out his tongue at the people, who again were loud in their complaints. the poor man, who could see no fault in his darling, said, "do not fret, my own dear boy. we will go and live somewhere else, and get away from these evil-minded people." he did, indeed, move to a distance, and not many years after died, leaving wife and child in great poverty. now young tyll, though sixteen years old, had learnt no business, nor anything useful or good, but with years had increased in all malice and mischief. [decoration] iii. _how owlglass crept into a beehive; and how, when two thieves came in the night to steal it, he managed to set them quarrelling, so that they came to blows and left the hive behind them._ we pass over a few years of owlglass's life during which he continued to thrive in body, but we are sorry to say gave no signs of moral improvement. however, in the adventure we are about to relate, he was not so much to blame, the sufferers being scarcely better than himself, and in no way deserving of our sympathy. he went one day, with his mother, to a feast in a neighbouring village, where, having eaten and drunk as much as he could bear for the time, he looked about him for a convenient place to sleep. he found some beehives, four of which were empty, and creeping into one of these he thought he would have an hour's quiet rest, but slept from mid-day to mid-night, so that his mother thought he had gone back home. now in that night two thieves came to steal one of the beehives, and having heard that the heaviest was always the best, they tried the weight of each; and finding that one the heaviest in which owlglass was, they settled between them that that was the one they would take, and walked off with it. the night was as dark as pitch, so that there was no seeing at all; but owlglass was awake, and had heard them consulting with each other. the motion was not unpleasant as they carried him along; but yet he thought he could do better than sleep, and after short consideration he stretched out one hand, and with his finger first slightly touched the neck of the man before him, then he touched his nose, chin, cheeks, and forehead. at each touch of the finger the thief thought one of the bees had settled on him, till he fancied his face covered with them, and dreaded every moment to feel their sting. he dared not speak nor move a muscle of his face, but trembled with fear till the perspiration streamed down him. at length, however, scarcely moving his jaws, he ventured to mutter to his companion, "i say, jack," he said, "have you anything on your face?" "yes," growled his companion, who was not in the best of humours, for he began to find the hive heavy, "i have a nose on my face, and pray what have you to say against it?" "it is not that i mean," said the first speaker; "but have you ever heard that bees swarm in the dark, for i am covered with them?" "you are a fool," was jack's only reply. after a minute owlglass again put out his hand; and this time gave the front man a sharp tug by the hair, who, thinking his companion had done it, began to complain and swear. the other cried, "how is it possible i could pull your hair? do i not want both my hands to carry this abominable hive? you must be mad or drunk; but let us have no more of your nonsense, or it will be the worse for you." owlglass laughed in his sleeve, enjoying this fine sport; and, after they had gone on a little further, he caught hold of the fellow's hair at the back, giving his head such a pull forward that he scraped his nose against the hive. the fellow's rage now knew no bounds. "you scoundrel," he cried, "first you say i pull your hair and now you pull mine; but wait, you shall catch it." whereupon he let go of the hive, and the other doing the like, they fell upon each other, and a furious fight began. at length they both came to the ground, and, rolling one over the other down a steep bank, they became separated, and in the great darkness neither knew where to find the other nor the beehive. [illustration: _owlglass in the beehive._] owlglass, seeing it was still dark, went to sleep again in the hive; and the next morning, not knowing where he was, went on his way whither chance might lead him. [decoration] iv. _how owlglass ate a roasted fowl off the spit, and did only half work._ the first village owlglass came to he went straight to the priest's house. here he was hired, the priest telling him that he should live as well as he and his cook, and do only half the work. owlglass agreed, promising himself to the very letter to act up to what had been said. the cook, who had but one eye, put two chickens to the fire to roast, bidding him turn the spit. this he readily did, thinking all the while of the priest's words, that he should live as well as he and his cook; and, when the chickens were well roasted, took one of them off the spit, and ate it then and there. when dinner-time had come the cook went to the fire to baste the chickens, and seeing only one, said to owlglass, "what has become of the other fowl?" to this he answered, "open your other eye, my good woman, and you will see the two." she flew into a passion at having her defect of the loss of one eye thus thrown in her teeth, and straightway went to her master, to whom she complained of the insult offered to her, and how that his new servant understood cooking so well that two chickens dwindled down into one. the priest thereupon went into the kitchen, and said, "why is it, owlglass, that you have mocked my servant? i see that there is only one fowl on the spit, whereas there were two; what has become of the other?" owlglass answered, "open both your eyes, and you will see that the other fowl is on the spit. i only said the same to your cook, when she grew angry." the priest laughed, and said, "my cook cannot open both eyes since she has only one." owlglass replied, "that you say, i do not say so." the priest continued, "with all this, there is but one fowl." owlglass said, "the other i have eaten, for you said i should live as well as you and your cook, and therefore one chicken was for me, and the other for you two. i should have been grieved that what you said were not true, and thus i took my share beforehand." "well, well, my good fellow," his master said, "it matters little about the eaten fowl, only you do in future what my cook tells you." owlglass said, "yes, my dear master, as you told me so will i do." now, at the hiring, the priest had said owlglass should do half the work which the cook would tell him, so that he only did the half of what she told him to do. [illustration: _owlglass eats the priest's fowl._] when told to fetch a pail full of water, he brought it only half full, and when he was to put two logs of wood on the fire, he only put one on. the cook saw well enough that all this was done to vex her, and said to her master that if he kept such a perverse fellow in his house she would leave it. owlglass defended himself, saying, it was quite natural that having only one eye she should see the work only half done. at this the priest laughed; but to appease his cook was obliged to dismiss his man, promising, however, that he would be a friend to him. [decoration] v. _how owlglass was forbidden the duchy of luneburgh, and bought himself land of his own._ owlglass had played so many pranks in the duchy of luneburgh that he was forbidden the land, the duke giving orders that if found there he should be hanged. nevertheless, he continued to pass through the duchy whenever his road led that way; but one day, as he was riding along devoid of care, he saw the duke himself coming with several followers. then he said to himself, "if i fly i shall be pursued and cut down, and, if i remain as i am, the duke will come up in great anger and have me hanged on the nearest tree;" and most provokingly one stood close by. there was not much time for consideration, and none to be lost, so, jumping off his horse, he killed the animal, and, ripping it open, took his stand in its inside. now when the duke came up to him he was astonished at his impudence, and still more so at his extraordinary position. "did i not promise you," he said, "that, if found in my territory, you should be surely hanged? what have you to say for yourself?" owlglass answered, "i put my trust in your grace's goodness, and that you will not carry your threat into execution, seeing that i have not done anything to deserve hanging." "well," said the duke, "let me hear what you have to say in your defence, or rather, tell me why you are standing inside your horse?" owlglass answered, "i sorely feared your grace's displeasure, and thought i had better be found in my own property, where i ought to be safe." the duke laughed, and said, "as long as you remain where you are you shall be safe," and then rode away. owlglass made the best of his way over the frontier; but it was not long before he had occasion again to be in the duchy of luneburgh, and hearing that the duke was coming to the neighbourhood where he was, he straightway got a cart and horse, and going up to a peasant, whom he saw digging in a field, he asked whose land it was. the peasant said it was his own, for he had lately inherited it. hereupon owlglass asked for how much he would sell him his cart full of earth. they agreed for a shilling; and owlglass paying the money, filled his cart with earth, in which he buried himself up to his arm-pits, and drove leisurely on his way. [illustration: _owlglass rides on his own land._] it was not long before he met the duke, who, seeing him sitting thus in the cart, stopped, and, with difficulty restraining his laughter, said, "owlglass, have i not forbidden you my land on pain of death?" to this owlglass answered, "i am not in your grace's land, but sitting in my own, which i purchased from a peasant whose inheritance it was." the duke replied, "though sitting in your own land, your cart and horse are on mine; but this once more i will let you go in safety; beware, however, that you do not come again, for then nothing shall save you." owlglass then immediately sprang upon his horse and rode off, leaving the cart behind. vi. _of the manner in which owlglass paints a picture for the count of hessen, and how he persuades him that those of base birth could not see the painting._ after owlglass had wandered all over saxony, and was so well known that his trickery and scheming were no longer of any avail, he went to hessen to the count's court. the count asked him what he could do, to which he answered, "noble sir, i am a painter such as is not to be found far and wide, for my work far surpasses all other." the count then said, "let me see some of your work." whereupon owlglass produced some curiously painted cloth which he had bought in flanders. the count was well pleased, and said, "what must i pay you to paint the walls of the grand saloon, representing the origin of the counts of hessen, and how they have held on in friendship and enmity with the kings of hungary, and other princes up to the present time?" owlglass said for that he must have two hundred pounds; which the count agreed to pay if he did the work well. owlglass stipulated for one hundred pounds to be paid in advance, that he might buy colours and hire assistants, and also that no one but his assistants should enter the saloon during the progress of the work, so that he might not be hindered. all being agreed to, he hired three assistants, with whom he settled that they were not to do any work; but he nevertheless paid them their wages, and they employed themselves mostly playing at cards and dice. a month passed by, and then the count desired to know what progress had been made with the work, and also to be allowed to enter the saloon. owlglass now said, "noble sir, there is one thing i must tell you, namely, that the base born cannot see my work." [illustration: _owlglass shows his picture to the count._] the count was rejoiced on hearing this, thinking how he could prove the birth of all by whom he was surrounded, for he was mightily proud. they then entered the saloon; and owlglass partly drawing back a cloth, which he had stretched across the side of the room he was supposed to be painting, said, pointing at the same time with his mahlstick, which he held in his hand, "here you behold the first count of hessen, in whose noble bearing i trust you recognize the great founder of your noble house; by his side you see his wife, daughter of justinian, afterwards emperor of bavaria: they had issue adolphus, from whom descended, in a direct line, william the brave, lewis the good, and so on up to your own noble self. you will not fail to appreciate how skilfully i have brought into my composition each worthy personage, occupied in a manner best suited to his character. the drawing i know is faultless, and i hope you admire the richness of the colours." now the count said nothing to all this, and he said to himself, "can it be possible that i am base born, for i see nothing but the white wall?" however, for the sake of his own honour, he expressed himself well pleased, adding that his want of knowledge of art prevented his doing full justice to the great talent displayed; whereupon he left the room. as soon as the countess saw him she anxiously inquired how he liked the painting, for she had her doubts of owlglass, who appeared to her a rogue. the count said he was well satisfied; and on her expressing a wish to see it, said she might, with the painter's permission. she immediately sent for owlglass, and requested permission to see his work. owlglass answered that he should be most happy to have her opinion of what he considered his masterpiece, telling her, as he had told the count, the peculiarity about his work, that it was invisible to the base born. the countess went to the saloon with eight attendants, one of whom, a distant relation of her own, was rather weak-minded. owlglass drew back the cloth, as he had done before, and explained his painting in the same words as to the count. the countess stared at the wall and then at him, and at the wall again, but did not make one single observation. the attendants were equally mute, excepting the weak-minded one, who looked at the wall and her companions in astonishment, and then exclaimed, that base born or not, she could see nothing but a white wall, and was convinced there was no more painting on it than on the back of her hand. the countess went straight to her husband, and told him that she was as well satisfied as he had been; but that her weak-minded relative maintained that there was no painting whatever on the wall, and that owlglass was an impostor who was making fools of the whole court. the count was vexed at this, and scarcely knew what to think; but determined to see whether any one else would make similar observations, he sent word to owlglass to have everything ready on the following day to receive a visit from himself and his whole court. on receiving this message owlglass immediately dismissed his assistants, and went to the treasurer and begged to be paid the hundred pounds that were still due to him. he got the money without difficulty, and the following day was no longer at the court, nor anywhere in hessen. [decoration] vii. _how, at erfurt, owlglass taught a donkey to read._ having had such signal success in the arts, owlglass determined to try science and letters; and therefore, when he came to prague, in bohemia, he had notices stuck up, on the church and college doors, stating that he could solve the most difficult questions. his answers, here, puzzled the learned more than they had puzzled him with their questions; and thus made bolder in impudence, he went to erfurt, where he gave out that he could teach any animal to read and write. now, at erfurt there was a celebrated university, and all the learned doctors met together and discussed what they should propose to owlglass, so that they might disgrace him, and come off with greater honor, themselves, than their brethren of prague. as soon as they had come to a satisfactory conclusion, they had owlglass called before them, and the head of the university said that they had determined to put a donkey to school with him, if he would undertake to teach it to read. owlglass agreed to do this without hesitation, adding that, as a donkey was naturally a dull animal, they must allow him a reasonable time and a sufficient sum for the support of his scholar during the course of his instruction. after conferring among themselves, the learned doctors proposed that twenty years should be allowed for the accomplishment of the task, together with a sum of money which owlglass thought sufficient; and having received part of the money in advance, he led his scholar off to a stall he had constructed on purpose for him. he felt no difficulty in his position, for he would be freed from all responsibility by the death of his pupil, which, at any time, could be brought about, but for the time being determined to have some sport. he took an old book, which he laid in the donkey's crib, having strewed some oats between the leaves, and when the animal found this out, it turned the leaves over with its tongue to get at the oats. now, when it no longer found any it cried out, "e-aw! e-aw!" which owlglass noticing, at once went to the head of the university and said, "learned doctor, would you not like to see how my pupil is getting on?" "does he improve?" the doctor asked; to which owlglass replied, "he is naturally uncouth and difficult to be taught, but by great care and perseverance i have brought him on so far that he pronounces some letters." several of the dignitaries of the university assembled at the donkey's stable, and as soon as owlglass placed a book before the poor creature, which had been kept fasting all day, it eagerly turned over the leaves, looking for the oats, and not finding any, cried with a loud voice, "e-aw! e-aw!" "you hear, my worthy sirs," owlglass said, "that he already pronounces a vowel and a diphthong pretty distinctly, and i have every hope that his progress will now be more rapid." after this exhibition, owlglass one night fastened a notice up at the college door to the effect that the donkey, his scholar, was now fully competent to be at the head of the university, and to instruct the other donkeys of erfurt, whom he therefore left to his charge. owlglass that night disappeared from the town, not forgetting to take with him the money he had so deservedly earned. [illustration: _owlglass's learned donkey._] viii. _how owlglass brought it about that the watch of nurenberg fell into the water._ after leaving erfurt, owlglass dressed himself as a priest, and, travelling about different parts, levied contributions wherever he found ignorance and credulity, of which there was no lack. he carried a death's head about with him, which he pretended was the skull of saint brandonis, possessing miraculous virtue for the cure of all manner of illnesses. he also pretended that he was collecting subscriptions for building a church in honour of saint brandonis, and that all who brought an offering would, by the intercession of the saint, find it restored to them a hundredfold before the year was over. when he arrived at any town or village he sought to find out any prevailing vice or sin, and would then give out that, from persons addicted to this particular vice or sin, he could not accept any offering for the saint. by these means the offerings flowed in more abundantly than had ever been collected, for those who felt themselves most guilty were most eager, by their offerings, to prove their innocence. thus owlglass got his pockets well filled and went to nurenberg, where he determined to rest for a time from his labours, and enjoy himself as long as his money would last. after being there some time, and knowing all the in's and out's of the place, he grew tired of idleness, and nothing could satisfy him but a piece of mischief. during his wanderings he had noticed that, in the evening, the town watchmen assembled together in a cellar under the town-hall, and that to get from the town-hall to the pig-market a small wooden bridge had to be passed, which crossed the river called the pegnetz. bearing all this in mind, he waited one night till the whole town was quiet, then, after breaking three planks of the bridge, he went up to the town-hall and set up a furious bellowing and shouting, at the same time striking the paved road with an iron spiked stick till the sparks flew on all sides. this roused the watch, and as he ran away, they chased him towards the pig-market. owlglass jumped over that part of the bridge where he had broken the planks, and stopped on the other side, shouting to his pursuers, "o! o! you pig-headed timber-toed rogues, is that the way you run? i see i must needs wait for you!" this enraged the men, and all together they rushed on the bridge, which giving way where he had broken the planks, they fell one over the other into the pegnitz. there he left them, and turned his back upon the town of nurenberg. [illustration: _the watchmen of nurenberg._] [decoration] ix. _how owlglass appears as dentist and doctor._ owlglass visited schomberg, where he had notices posted that he was a celebrated dentist and doctor; that he could not only cure the toothache without extracting the tooth, but that the most inveterate disease would immediately yield to his remedies. he met with a wag who was willing to join him in cheating the good people of schomberg, afterwards to share the plunder with him; and for this purpose his accomplice pretended to suffer intolerable pain from toothache, but immediately that owlglass had administered a pill to him, which was nothing more than simple bread, he professed to be perfectly cured. this wonderful cure took place before all the people, whereat they were greatly astonished, and they crowded to him to be cured of every imaginable pain; but owlglass appointed all to meet him on the following day, at a stated time, for he was in treaty to restore the patients of the hospital to health, and that before that great work was accomplished, he could not undertake any fresh case. the master of the hospital, on hearing owlglass's announcement that he could cure all diseases, had applied to him, for he had the hospital full of patients, and was most anxious to be rid of as many as possible. he agreed to pay fifty pounds, owlglass engaging that the next day the hospital should be free of patients. now this is the way he set about the serious task. he went to the hospital and asked each patient separately what ailed him or her, after which he said:-"you must now solemnly swear that you will not reveal to any living being what i am about to tell you." and having received the required promise, he continued:--"the only way in which i can cure you is by taking one of your number, and burning him to powder, give a portion to each of the others. therefore, i shall take that one amongst you who is most seriously affected, in order that the others may be saved. now to find out which is most hopelessly ill, i shall place the master of the hospital at the door, who will cry with a loud voice, 'let those who are well come out;' and then the one that remains behind i shall burn to powder. do not forget what i now tell you, for i should be sorry to have you sacrificed." [illustration: _owlglass administers a pill._] the following morning he said to the master:-"all the patients are now cured, the truth of which you will find; for if you stand at the door and cry out, 'let all those who are well come forth,' you shall see that not one will remain behind." it happened, indeed, as he said, and the hospital was left empty, whereupon he received the promised fifty pounds, besides many thanks. after this he received all who sought relief, whatever their sufferings might be; and giving each one of his bread pills, for which he took a small sum, he promised a perfect cure in three hours' time. before this time had elapsed, however, owlglass left the town with his illgotten earnings. x. _how owlglass sells his horse to a jew, and on what terms._ owlglass stopped one day at a roadside inn, for he had ridden a long way, and both he and his horse were tired. on entering the kitchen, which served as travellers' room, he found a jew and two or three countrymen, who had watched him as he rode up, and were joking about his and his horse's appearance. as i said, he had ridden a long way, and his horse, which was none of the handsomest, jaded and covered with dust as it was, cut but a sorry appearance, his own not being much better. the countrymen thought themselves rather wags, and one said, turning to owlglass, "that is a handsome animal of yours." "and it must be allowed," the other added, "that the gentleman sat the spirited creature well. i should not have liked my sweetheart to see him as he came along." the jew was glad to put in his joke, too; and, when it appeared he could do so with safety, said:-"is the shentleman willing to part with his handsome beast? for if so i shall be happy to deal with him, as it would just suit a great nobleman, a particular friend of mine, for whom i have been looking out for a horse; but he is very particular, and up to the present i have not been able to find one good enough for him." the countrymen laughed boisterously at this sally of the jew's, but owlglass, appearing to take it seriously, answered:-"my horse is, indeed, a splendid animal; but as i intend to rest myself here for some days i shall not need it, and am therefore willing to deal with you, my good friend. i have sworn, however, not to part with it for any sum of money, however great, and i cannot break my oath; but you can have the horse for your friend, if you agree to my terms. these are, that, after i shall have given you six stripes on your bare back, the animal is yours." miserable as the creature was the jew was ready enough to have it without paying any money, so agreed to the proposal. [illustration: _the jew's bargain._] whilst the jew was stripping his shoulders owlglass said, "these two gentlemen are witnesses that the horse is not to be yours till i have given you six stripes." the countrymen, anxious for the fun, said they would be witnesses; and the jew having bared his back, owlglass tied his hands to a staple in the door-post, and clutching his whip firmly gave him such a cut that the poor jew danced again. at the second stroke he fairly howled; and after giving him a third owlglass said, "i see, my friend, that you are not able to complete the bargain now, so i will keep my horse till some future time, when i shall have paid you the remaining three stripes." the countrymen were convulsed with laughter, and the jew had the worst of the bargain. [decoration] xi. _how owlglass sells an old hat for more than its weight in gold._ owlglass having determined to give himself a few days' rest, put up at an inn where he had noticed that the landlady was a very lively intelligent woman, for he thought that if an opportunity for a good piece of mischief occurred, she would be quite ready to second him. he remarked that amongst the daily visiters there were two particularly stupid who just on that account thought themselves superior to the rest, and gave themselves considerable airs. owlglass could not resist the temptation to play these a trick; and, having taken the landlady into his confidence, he invited them to sup with him. he told them many curious stories and adventures; and after he had prepared their minds to take in anything, however wonderful, he took down his hat, which was hanging against the wall, and which happened to be a very old one, saying, "you will scarcely believe that this hat is worth fifty times its weight in gold; but the fact is, it has the extraordinary power of making any one to whom i owe money believe i have paid them, when i hold it in a particular manner." fools as his guests were, this was more than they could believe; but owlglass engaged to give them proof of it that very moment, and that they should see the landlady would say she was paid. he rang the bell, and when the landlady appeared, he asked her how much he owed her for the supper, and she said five shillings. whereupon he continued, holding his old hat in a peculiar manner, on the tips of his fingers, "have i not paid you for the supper?" to which she answered, "yes;" adding that she was very much obliged to him. at this they marvelled; and when he said he was willing to sell it for fifty pounds, there was a dispute between them which should buy it, when it was at length agreed they should buy it between them. when owlglass received the money he made his accomplice a handsome present and went on his way, leaving the purchasers to try the virtue of the hat. [illustration: _owlglass paying the landlady._] xii. _how owlglass, by means of a false confession, cheated the priest of riesenburgh out of his horse; and how he steals another priest's snuff-box._ after this adventure, owlglass went to riesenburgh, where he lodged with the priest, whom he knew, having been there several times before. this priest had a very pretty maid-servant and a beautiful little horse, which horse the duke of brunswick much wished to have, and offered a considerable sum of money for its possession; but though the offer was often repeated the priest as often refused, for he was scarcely less fond of his horse than of his maid. owlglass having heard this, and soon after hearing that the duke was in the town, went to him, and said, "what will your highness give me if i get you the priest's horse?" "if you can do that," the duke answered, "i will give you the coat i now have on." now this coat was of scarlet velvet, ornamented with pearls. after this owlglass pretended to be ill; and taking to his bed, moaned and sighed so piteously that both the priest and his maid were much grieved, and knew not what to do. as he daily seemed to grow worse, the priest admonished him to confess, as he had many sins to answer for. owlglass answered, that he was anxious to confess himself, for though he did not feel guilty of any grievous sin, yet there was one which weighed heavily on his mind, but that he could not confess to him, and therefore earnestly begged he would fetch him another priest. when the priest heard this, there seemed something strange in it, and his curiosity being strongly excited, he said, "dear owlglass, i should have to go a long way for another confessor, and if in the meantime you should die unabsolved we should both have much to answer for, therefore speak, my son, and your sin shall be forgiven you." "be it so then," owlglass said, "but my sin is not so great, as that i fear offending you, for it concerns you." this excited the priest's curiosity still more, and he said, "speak without hesitation, for i forgive you beforehand; besides, my anger need not matter, for i dare not divulge your confession." "oh, my dear, good friend," owlglass answered, "i know i shall much anger and offend you; but since i feel that my end is near i will no longer delay. i grieve to say that i have kissed your maid more than once." the priest inquired how often that had happened; and being told five times, he hastily absolved his penitent, and going out called his servant to him. he accused her of having allowed herself to be kissed by owlglass; and though she denied it, he took a stick and beat her till she was black and blue. owlglass laughed when he heard the maid cry, and thought to himself, now the business is settled; so after remaining in bed one more day and night he got up, declaring himself to be quite well. after settling with his host for his board and lodging, he said, "i am now going to halberstadt to the bishop, to denounce you for having divulged the secrets of the confessional." the poor priest, who a moment before had felt quite happy at the prospect of getting rid of so dangerous a visiter, was now taken quite aback, when he saw ruin staring him in the face, and he begged most earnestly that he would not betray him, for it was in anger. he added that he would give him twenty pounds to purchase his secrecy, but owlglass declared that he would not take fifty. thereupon the priest begged his maid to intercede, and ascertain what owlglass would accept; and he, after making much difficulty, said he would not take anything but the priest's horse. now the priest would rather have parted with anything than his horse; but there was no help for it, so he gave him the animal. owlglass mounted the horse and rode off to wolfenbuttel, where he found the duke standing on the bridge. as he came near, the duke took off his coat, saying, "you see, owlglass, that as you have performed your part of the agreement i am ready to perform mine. there, take the coat i promised you." owlglass then had to relate by what means he obtained the horse from the priest; at which the duke laughed heartily, and besides the coat gave him another horse. [illustration: _owlglass's confession._] this was not the only priest whom owlglass tricked, as you shall hear. * * * * * whilst staying in the house where the adventure just told you occurred, he had become acquainted with a priest who came there several times, and there were two things he did not fail to note. firstly, this priest was very heavy with sleep every day after dinner, so that it seemed impossible to him to keep his eyes open; and secondly, he had a handsome silver snuff-box, which it was his habit to lay down by his side after taking a pinch from it. he lived in a town at no great distance from riesenburgh; and thither owlglass went to stay a day or two, the very first opportunity he had. choosing the time when he knew the priest had dined, he went to the confessional, and by means of a rambling story soon sent his friend asleep, his snuff-box lying by his side as usual. owlglass then put the box in his own pocket, and having waked the priest, said, "there is one thing weighs very heavily on my mind, for i have committed the mean crime of theft, and i must beg of you to accept the stolen article." this the priest refused to do, advising him to restore it to its real owner; but owlglass said, "he refuses to accept it." "under those circumstances keep it, my son, and i give you full absolution for having committed the great sin of stealing." owlglass then took the box out of his pocket, saying, "this is the box, and it was from you i stole it; when urged by remorse i wished to make restoration, but you refused to accept it, giving me full absolution." after this he left the confessional, and shortly after the town. [illustration: _owlglass takes the priest's snuff-box._] xiii. _how a bootmaker of brunswick larded owlglass's boots; and how he was paid for doing so._ the weather having turned wet, owlglass thought it well to have his boots greased, that his feet might be kept dry during his frequent wanderings; so, going to a bootmaker of the name of christopher, in the marketplace of brunswick, he gave him the boots, and said, "let these be well larded, and have them ready by to-morrow morning." when he had left the shop, the bootmaker's foreman said, "master, that is owlglass, who plays every one some ugly trick or another, so be very careful what you do, or your turn will have come." the master asked, "what did he tell us to do?" "he told you to lard his boots, meaning to grease them," the foreman answered; "and if i were you i would act up to the letter of what he said; i should not grease them, but lard them as one lards meat." "well, we will do as he bids us," the master said; and cutting up a piece of bacon into small strips, he larded the boots as if they were a joint of meat. owlglass called the following morning to ask whether the boots were ready; and the bootmaker, pointing to them as they hung against the wall, answered, "yes, there they are." owlglass, seeing his boots thus larded, burst out laughing, and said, "now you are the sort of tradesman i like, for you have conscientiously done as i ordered; how much do i owe you?" "a shilling," was the answer. as he paid the money, owlglass said, "you are much too moderate in your charges, but i shall not consider that with one miserable shilling i have paid you. rest assured, my good friend, that i will not forget you." then taking his boots he departed, the master and his foreman, looking after him, said, "he is the last man to whom such a thing should have happened." and as they talked it over they chuckled that the trickster, in his turn, had been tricked. their merriment, however, was of but short duration, for suddenly owlglass's head and shoulders appeared through the shop window, the glass flying in all directions about the place. "pray, my friend," he said, "have the goodness to tell me whether my boots are larded with sow's or boar's bacon." when the bootmaker had recovered a little from his surprise, he exclaimed, "get out of that, you scoundrel, or you will have my last at your head." "do not be angry, my good sir," owlglass said, "for i only wish to know what bacon that is with which you have larded my boots; whether it is from a boar or a sow?" the bootmaker's rage increased, and he abused him in the vilest terms for breaking his window; but owlglass said coolly, "if you will not tell me what bacon it is, i must go and ask some one else;" and drawing back his head and shoulders, contriving at the same time to break the windows still further, he disappeared. then the bootmaker was in a rage with his man, and said, "you gave me advice before; now advise me what i am to do to make my window whole again. pack yourself off at once, and the wages due to you i shall apply to repairing the mischief your wisdom has caused." [illustration: _owlglass returns with the boots._] xiv. _how owlglass hires himself to a tailor; and how well he executes his master's orders._ when owlglass found his pockets empty, he hired himself to a tailor, who said to him, "sew neatly, so that no one can see it, as a good workman should do." so owlglass took a needle and some pieces of cloth, and having crept under the cutting board, with his face turned to the wall, he laid the work across his knees and began to sew in the dark. when the master beheld this proceeding, he said, "what are you doing there, my man? that is a most extraordinary way of working." owlglass answered, "master, you told me to work so that no one could see it, and as you yourself cannot see what i am doing, so can no one else see my work, and therefore i am strictly executing your orders." the tailor, who was a quiet, easy man, then said, "that was not what i meant; come out there, and sew in such a manner that every one may see how fine your work is." thus they went on for a matter of three days, when, one evening, the tailor, feeling sleepy, threw a half-finished rough peasant's coat over to owlglass, and said, "there, make up that wolf for me, and then you can go to bed, as i am now going to do." you must know, that that particular sort of coat was called a wolf. as soon as the tailor had left the workshop, owlglass cut up the coat, and with the pieces first made the head, and then the body and legs of a wolf. he stood it up by means of sticks, and then went to bed. when, on the following morning, the master went into the shop, he started back in a fright, but owlglass just then coming in, he saw how it was, and said, "what have you been doing here?" owlglass answered, "i have made a wolf, as you bid me." and the tailor saying that he did not mean a wolf of that sort, but the peasant's rough coat, he continued, "my dear master, i wish i had understood your meaning, for i would rather have made a coat than a wolf." with this the master was satisfied, and they went on comfortably together for three or four days more, when one evening he again felt sleepy; but thinking it too early for his man to go to bed, he gave him a coat which was finished all but putting in the sleeves, and said, "whip the sleeves to this coat, and then you can go to rest." owlglass hung the coat up on a hook, and having laid the sleeves near it, he lighted two candles, and, with a whip he then made, whipped the sleeves all through the night. when the tailor came in, in the morning, he exclaimed, "what tomfoolery is this?" "it is no tomfoolery," owlglass answered, "i have done as you told me; but though i have stood here all night whipping the sleeves, i could not get them to stick to the coat. it would have been better you had let me go to bed than make me waste my time in this way." "it is not my fault," the tailor said, "how could i know you understood it this way, when i meant you to sew the sleeves into the coat?" owlglass answered, "i wish you would not say one thing when you mean another; but now you may do the work, for i must go to bed." this the tailor would no way agree to, so they quarrelled; and owlglass leaving him, went his way. xv. _how owlglass caused three tailors to fall from their work-board, and persuaded the people that the wind had blown them down._ owlglass took a lodging at bamberg, near to the market-place, where he remained about a fortnight, and next door to him there lived a tailor who had three workmen. these men sat on a board, supported by four posts, outside the window, and they laughed at owlglass, and threw pieces of rag or cloth at him whenever he passed. owlglass bore all in silence, biding his time to pay them back with interest; and this he determined should be on a fair day, when the market-place would be full of people. the night before the day of the fair he had sawed the posts nearly through which supported the board on which the three tailors sat, and in the morning they placed the board on them as usual, seated themselves on it and began their sewing. now, when the swineherd blew his horn all the people let out their pigs, and the tailor's pigs also came out of his house, and went, as owlglass well knew they would, under the board, rubbing themselves against the posts, which, giving way, the three journeymen tailors were thrown into the gutter. owlglass, who had been on the watch, now cried out, "see how light three tailors are, for a gust of wind has blown them all at once into the street, as if they were but three feathers! how easily a tailor can fly!" and this he cried so loud that he could be heard all over the marketplace. all the people came running to the spot to see the fun, and mocked and laughed at the poor tailors, who knew not what to do for very shame. they could not tell how it was their board fell; but they found out at last, and guessed that it was owlglass who had played them that trick. they put up fresh posts, but did not again venture to make game of owlglass. [illustration: _downfall of the tailors._] xvi. _how owlglass tells a truth to a smith, to his wife, his assistant, and his maidservant, for which he gets his horse shod._ owlglass now being in funds, he rode about the country like a gentleman, and one day came to a small town, where he saw a very neat woman, with her servant maid, standing at the door of a smithy, and judged her to be the smith's wife. he put up at an inn just opposite, and during the night pulled the four shoes off his horse. on the following morning he led his horse to the smithy; and as soon as it was known that it was owlglass, the wife and maidservant came out to see what had brought him there. owlglass asked the smith whether he would shoe his horse; to which he at once agreed, for he was glad of an opportunity to have some talk with a man of whom he had heard so much. after much talk on both sides, the smith said, "if you will tell me a truth that is really true, i will put one shoe on your horse without any charge." to this owlglass answered, "if you have iron and coals, and there is plenty of wind in the bellows, the fault will be yours if the forge does not go on well." "that is undoubtedly true," said the smith; and he gave him the promised horseshoe. the assistant, as he was putting on the shoe, said that if he would tell him a truth that applied to him, he would put another shoe on his horse. in answer, owlglass said, "a smith's assistant must work hard and not spare himself if he expects to please his master." "that is true enough," was the answer, and the horse had a second shoe. then the wife and the servant wanted a truth told them, for which each promised his horse a shoe. owlglass whispered his answer in the ear of each of these. to the mistress he said, "when a servant apes her mistress's dress, she would be mistress not only in dress alone." the mistress marked his glances as well as his words, and said, "that is true enough;" so there was a third shoe for the horse. and to the maid he said, "when a servant is better looking than her mistress, she will find it difficult to please her in anything." the maid said, "that i know to be true." so the horse got its fourth shoe, and owlglass rode further on his way. [illustration: _owlglass in the smithy._] [decoration] xvii. _how owlglass hired himself to a merchant as cook and coachman._ in the town of windsheim there lived a rich merchant, who was walking one day outside the town, when he saw owlglass lying on the grass, and stopping, he asked him what his calling was. owlglass answered that he was a cook; whereupon the merchant said, "you are just the man i want, that is, if you understand your business; for my wife is not at all satisfied with her present cook, and we have some of the first people of the town to dine with us to-morrow, to whom we would like to give a good dinner." owlglass said that he would serve him faithfully, and that he felt confident of giving satisfaction; so the merchant engaged him, stipulating that he should also serve as coachman, and took him home with him at once. as soon as the merchant's wife saw owlglass, she said, "who is this fellow whom you have brought home with you, for i do not like the look of him at all?" her husband answered, "never mind his look, my dear, for he is a first-rate cook, and we will serve up a dinner to-morrow that shall be the envy of the whole town." early the next morning the merchant gave owlglass full instructions as to the dinner, telling him what soup, meat, and vegetables to get, and how he liked everything done. "as for game," he added, "professor guzzle is particularly fond of roast hare, so we cannot do better than let him have his favourite puss; but, mind, let it be the finest that can be got in the whole town." owlglass promised that all his instructions should be strictly attended to; and the merchant, having business of importance to attend to, went out in easy confidence in his new servant. the merchant got home only just in time to receive his guests, so that he could not visit the kitchen before dinner, and his wife was too fine a lady to attend to such matters. however, the dinner went off very well, and the hare, in particular, was declared to be the finest that had been seen that year; so that all the company were in high spirits. at dessert the conversation turned upon cats; and one of the ladies, addressing the mistress of the house, said she had heard that she had the finest one in the whole town. the merchant's wife was very proud of her cat, and gave orders that it should be brought into the room; but it could not be found anywhere; and now the servants remembered that they had not seen it since the morning, when one of them saw owlglass carry it from the kitchen to an outhouse. owlglass was now sent for into the dining-room, before all the guests, and questioned as to what had become of the cat. without being in the slightest degree disconcerted, he said his master had told him that professor guzzle was very fond of roast hare, and that they could not do better than let him have his favourite puss, and therefore he, owlglass, was to be sure and get the very finest in the town; that he had searched the whole town through, but there were none to compare to the one in the house, and he was sure his master would not begrudge it his guests; therefore he had killed and roasted it, and the company had just eaten it. horror was depicted upon most of the countenances, whilst one or two of the guests tried to joke about it; but these the very first showed symptoms of distress, and one after another of the company had to leave the room pale as death, and not one returned. the mistress insisted upon owlglass being at once sent away; but the merchant said, "i want him to drive me and the priest to goslar to-morrow, and when we get back i will immediately send him about his business." that evening he told owlglass to get the carriage ready for the morrow, and to grease it well. as soon as all had gone to bed, owlglass took some cart grease and greased the carriage outside and in, but particularly the seats. early the next morning the merchant ordered the horses to be put to the carriage, and he and the priest getting in, they drove off in high spirits. they had not gone far, however, when they found they were gradually slipping off the seats; and the priest exclaimed, "what is all this grease? i held on with my hands to check the jolting, and i am all grease." they ordered owlglass to stop, and they found they were covered with grease; so that they had to buy a bundle of straw from a farmer and rub themselves and the carriage well. the merchant had now lost all patience, and he cried out to owlglass, "i find out now that you are a professed wag, and of the most mischievous class; but you are in the right road, go on, my good friend, straight to the gallows, and there your journey will be at an end." owlglass did as he was bid, for, turning off the road, he drove straight to a gallows which stood at no great distance, and stopping there began to take the horses out of the carriage. "what are you doing now, you rascal?" the merchant exclaimed. owlglass answered, "you told me to go straight to the gallows, and that there my journey would be at an end, so i naturally thought that we were to stop here." the merchant looked out of the carriage, and seeing that they were indeed under the gallows, could not help laughing. he said, "you have delayed us so long on the road with your foolery that i am afraid we shall not reach goslar in time for our business, so now, my good fellow, i pray you get on as fast as you can. do not look behind you, but mind only the road before you." owlglass now again mounted his horse, having first loosened the pin connecting the front wheels, and set off as fast as the horses could gallop. he had not gone far when the pin fell out; but, without looking behind him, he galloped on, carrying off the pole and front wheels, and leaving the body of the carriage far behind. in vain the priest and merchant shouted to him to stop. on he went; so they had to jump out of the carriage, and by scrambling through hedges and running across fields they were, fortunately, able to overtake him. complaint was useless; and as they found they could not now reach goslar in time, even if their coachman could be trusted to take them there, they determined upon returning home. the homeward journey was accomplished without any further accident; and when the merchant found himself safe in his own house, he called owlglass to him and said, "it is but too evident that all the mischief you have done since you have been with me has been done purposely. what have you to say to this?" owlglass answered, "i do everything strictly to the letter, as i am told, and if i do wrong, the fault is therefore not mine, but the fault of those who give the orders. you do not seem satisfied, so, if you pay me my wages, i would rather look for justice elsewhere." the merchant thinking it better to avoid further, and perhaps worse, mischief by getting rid of him at once, paid him, and they parted. [illustration: _owlglass's "skilful" coachmanship._] [decoration] xviii. _how owlglass cheated a horse-dealer at wismar, and afterwards cheated the public._ owlglass next went to wismar, a town much frequented by horse-dealers, and one of these had a habit of pulling the tail of any horse he thought of buying. this he did from a notion that, if the hair were firm in the tail, the horse was strong, and would live long; but if, on the contrary, the hair came out freely, that the animal would not last long, and he would therefore have nothing to do with it. owlglass knew of this habit, and determined to make some profit of it, so he bought a horse without a tail, which he got very cheap on that account, and most artfully he fastened a beautifully flowing tail to the bare stump, by means of blood and gum. with this horse he went to wismar, and asked so high a price that no one would bid for it, until the dealer came whose habit it was to pull the horses' tails, and him he asked a very low price. before striking a bargain, the horse-dealer, as usual, caught hold of the tail, and having formed a favourable opinion of the animal, gave it, perhaps, a harder tug than customary, when, lo and behold, the tail remained in his hands, and he measured his length upon the ground. a shout of laughter arose on all sides; but that was not enough for owlglass, who cried out, at the highest pitch of his voice, "see here! the villain has ruined my horse, for, beautiful creature that it is, who would have it without a tail?" the people drew nearer and took part with owlglass, so that the horse-dealer had to pay him ten pounds for the damage done to his horse, and owlglass laughed more heartily than any one, though only to himself. he rode out of wismar in high spirits, his trick having succeeded so well; and as soon as he was outside the town he fastened the tail on again, intending to sell the horse in the next town. as he rode along, however, he thought of some other way how to make money by his horse, before finally parting with it. in pursuance of the plan he had formed, he stopped at an inn two or three miles distant from the town, where he intended to put his plan into execution. here he remained till it had grown dark, so that he might enter the town unseen; which having done, he hired a stable, and having put up his horse, and attended to it himself, he locked the stable-door, putting the key in his pocket. the next morning he had it cried through the town that there was a horse to be shown with its tail where its head should be, stating a certain hour at which only it could be seen. before the appointed time he made all necessary preparations in the stable, when he again locked the door and then stood before it, waiting the arrival of the curious. now, as curiosity was pretty general in the town, there was a numerous attendance; and when owlglass judged that all the company to be expected had arrived, he collected the admission price from each, and then threw the door open. there was a general rush, followed by laughter from some, and indignant complaints from others, as they saw the horse, no different in itself to other horses, but fastened with its tail to the manger instead of its head. [illustration: _the horse's tail where his head should be._] xix. _how owlglass sowed rogues._ we next meet with owlglass in a town where he remained so long that he knew all the secrets of the place. by turns he took up his abode in twelve different inns, so that what had escaped him in one he was sure to hear in another, and it was little good he heard in either. for a long while he puzzled his brain what he could best do to suit the good people among whom he had the honour of living, when, at length, he hit upon a novel fancy, and, going into the market-place, he began sowing, up and down, sideways and crossways, the seed being represented by small pebbles. the people came in crowds, and to their questions what he was sowing, answered that he was sowing rogues. the people cried out, "those are not wanted here, for we have more than enough of them; and, pray, why do you not sow honest men as well?" he answered, "those will not grow here." these words were reported to the town council, who had him called before them, and ordered him to pick up his seed again, and then leave the town. his seed he could not well pick up; but he left the town, and after travelling about ten miles, came to another. here, however, the report of his wonderful seed had reached before him, so that he was not allowed to stop there, but had to pass through as quickly as possible. there was no help for it, so, escorted by the town authorities, he went down to the side of a river, which flowed through the town, and there hired a boat to carry him and his seed. he jumped into the boat, but when the boatman raised his bag to lift that in, it burst and all the seed fell out. owlglass pushed off the boat, crying out to the astonished spectators that he left them his seed, for he was sure that in such a highly virtuous town a few rogues were required to keep up a proper balance; and when he reached the opposite side, leaving the boat to the mercy of the stream, he ran on his way. whether the seed took root or not is not said; but to judge by the quantity of rogues in the world, it would seem it did, and that owlglass sowed some of the same sort in other parts of the world. [illustration: _owlglass sowing rogues._] xx. _how owlglass hired himself to a barber, and entered his house through the window._ once upon a time owlglass went to the city of hamburg, and having reached the market-place he there stood still and looked about him. whilst he was standing there a man came up to him and asked what he was looking out for. owlglass saw at once, by his questioner's appearance, what business he followed, answered that he was a barber and was seeking employment. "well met then," his new acquaintance said, "for i just happen to be in want of a barber's assistant, and i dare say we shall be able to come to a satisfactory arrangement together. i live in that high house just opposite. you see those windows that reach down to the ground. go in there, and i will follow you presently." owlglass answered, "yes." then crossing the road walked straight through the window, with a terrific crash, and made a polite bow to those within the room. the barber's wife sat there spinning, and, being much frightened, cried out for help, saying, "here is a madman come through the window." owlglass said to her, "my good lady, pray be not angry, for the master bid me come in here, having just hired me as his assistant." "may the foul fiend take you," the lady answered, for she was not possessed of the most even temper, "a pretty assistant you are. was the door not wide enough for you, that you must needs come in through the window?" owlglass answered, "my dear madam, must not an assistant do as his master bids him?" just then the barber entered, and seeing all the destruction around him, exclaimed, "what does all this mean?" owlglass addressed him thus, "you said to me, you see those windows that reach down to the ground--go in there, and i will follow you presently. now this good lady is angry that i have broken the window, but how could i help doing so, as it was not open? it seems to me that i have the most reason to complain, for i might have cut myself to pieces in doing what i was told to do; but i hope whatever may be the danger i shall never shrink from doing my duty. now, excuse me to the lady i beseech you, my dear master, for you see i could not avoid causing the mischief that has happened." [illustration: _owlglass walks through the barber's window._] the poor barber knew not what to say, so thought he might as well not say anything; besides, he wanted his assistance, and was in hopes he might be induced to accept more reasonable terms in consideration of the damage he had done. he now gave owlglass some razors to sharpen, and as they were somewhat rusty at the backs, he said, "brighten up the backs; indeed, make them quite like the edge." owlglass took the razors and made the backs as sharp as the edges, so that the barber, when he went to see what he was doing, exclaimed, "this is not right!" "how not right?" owlglass said; "are the backs not sharp enough? but have a little patience and they shall be quite like the edges, as you told me to make them. you see they had got very blunt at the backs, but after a little more sharpening you will be satisfied with them." "are you an idiot?" the master cried in a rage; "or is all this mischief done intentionally? leave the sharpening and pack yourself off back to where you came from." "well," owlglass said, "i see we should not be happy together for all our lives, so i may as well go at once;" and he walked out through the window as he had gone in. the barber was still more enraged at this, and ran after him to have him seized and locked up till he paid for the broken window; but owlglass was too quick for him, reached a ship that was just about to sail, and was off. [decoration] xxi. _how owlglass frightened an innkeeper at eisleben with a dead wolf._ in the depth of winter owlglass put up at an inn at eisleben, where one evening there also arrived three merchants from saxony on their way to nurenberg. they related how they had been attacked by a wolf, against which they had much difficulty in defending themselves, and that this disagreeable adventure had considerably delayed them. the host, who was a bragging sarcastic sort of a person, joked them much about their adventure, declaring that it was a shame they should allow themselves to be delayed by a miserable wolf; that, for his part, if he were attacked by two wolves, he would soon drive them off, but here three were frightened by one wolf. this continued all the evening till the merchants went to bed, owlglass in the mean time remaining silent, but turning it over in his mind how he could best play mine host some trick to pay him off for his bragging. the merchants and owlglass shared the same bed-room; and when the former discussed among themselves how they could repay the mocking of the innkeeper, owlglass said he had been thinking it over, and that if they would leave it to him he would engage that they should hear no more about the wolf. the merchants readily agreed, promising a handsome reward if he paid their tormentor off well; and owlglass then proposed that they should continue their journey, and all meet again there on their return. early the next morning the merchants paid the reckoning for owlglass, as well as for themselves, and rode on their way, mine host calling after them to beware lest a wolf should cross their path. owlglass also took his departure and went on the chase after a wolf. he succeeded in killing one, which he left out in the cold till it was frozen quite stiff, and when the merchants returned he put his prize in a sack, and, taking it with him, joined them at the inn as agreed upon. the innkeeper again teased his guests about the wolf, talking very big of how he would act. when the merchants went to their bed-room owlglass joined them, and said, "my good friends, keep your candle burning, and do not go to bed yet, for we will have some sport this night." now, as soon as all the household had gone to bed, owlglass fetched the dead wolf, which was hard frozen, and taking it to the kitchen placed it near the hearth, supporting it with sticks so that it stood upright, at the same time opening its jaws in which he put a child's shoe. then, quietly returning to his room, he called loudly for something to drink. when the innkeeper heard this he grumbled at being disturbed, and calling up the maid told her to get some beer for his guests. the maid went to the fire in the kitchen to light a candle, and seeing the wolf with its jaws wide open, rushed out into the yard, thinking the brute had surely devoured the children. owlglass and the merchants continued to call for drink, and the innkeeper, thinking the maid had gone to sleep again, called the man. he went to the fire to light a candle, and when he saw the wolf, thought it had made away with the maid, so he too ran out into the yard. the shouting for drink still continuing, the innkeeper thought the man must be asleep as well as the maid, and, grumbling like a bear, he himself got up. as soon as he had lighted a candle he saw the wolf with the shoe in its jaws, and running to the merchant's room, trembling with terror, cried out, "come and help me, my dear friends, for there is a frightful monster in the kitchen, which has devoured my children, maid, and man servant." they went with him; the girl and the man came from the yard, and the wife brought the children. all were alive. owlglass then went up to the wolf, which he turned over with his foot, and it did not stir; then turning to the innkeeper, said, "what an arrant coward you are! it is not long ago that you said you were ready to fight two wolves, and just now you ran away, trembling and shouting, from a dead one." the merchants made rare fun of mine host, and the next morning, after paying the bill, took their departure with owlglass. [illustration: _the frightful monster._] xxii. _the grateful animals._ a good many years ago some boys in a village were having rare sport with a mouse which they had quite surrounded, so that the poor little thing could nowhere escape, for to which ever side it turned, a heavy shoe, or a stick, threatened it with instant death. the poor animal thought this no sport at all, but the boys shouted with laughter as they saw it scamper and jump to avoid the blows aimed at it. activity alone saved it from its tormentors; but this was beginning to fail, when, fortunately, a man came that way. this man had more kindness in his heart than money in his pockets; but with this he had one great fault, for he was somewhat restless and fickle-minded, which, however, on this occasion proved fortunate for the poor little mouse, and eventually so for himself. his restless disposition had driven him to travel, poor as he was, and thus he came to the village, where witnessing the little creature's distress he released it, by giving the boys a few half-pence, and it instantly took refuge in a hole close by. in his wanderings he came to another village where he saw a crowd of boys, and, i am sorry to say, there were girls as well, tormenting an inoffensive donkey, which he saved from further molestation by again parting with a little of his scanty stock of money. further on he reached another village, where he released a bear from like persecution by giving more money. not long after these adventures this good man himself got into trouble, and was condemned by a cruel judge to be put into a box with only a jug of water and one loaf of bread, and thus thrown into the river, though i assure you he was quite innocent. you may imagine his distress, for he was not very comfortable in his box, nor could he see where he was being carried to, when all at once he felt the box grating against the ground, and then heard a nibbling at the lock, which, after awhile, gave way, and when he raised the lid was delighted to see his three friends, the mouse, the ass, and the bear, who now helped him in return for his kindness to them. [illustration: _friends in grave consultation._] they were not satisfied with merely saving his life, for they knew that he was poor, and had, moreover, spent some of his money to save them; so they were consulting together what they could do for him, when the bear espied a white stone come floating along. "nothing could happen more fortunate," the bear cried, "for here comes the lucky stone, and whoever has that will have all his wishes fulfilled on the instant." the man, hearing this, seized the stone as it was passing, and wished himself in a palace with every comfort and luxury, surrounded by beautiful grounds; and the next instant all was as he had wished. now, dazzled by so much splendour, and happy beyond anything he had ever dreamt of, he forgot his friends, the mouse, the ass, and the bear, though, i have no doubt, he would have thought of them sooner or later and wished them with him; but before this fault was remedied misfortune came upon him. it so happened that some merchants passed that way, and seeing a magnificent palace, where before there had only been barren land, they were seized with wonder and curiosity, so they went in and asked the owner how he had worked such a truly wonderful change. "i had only to wish for it," was the answer. they marvelled at this, as well they might; and being told that it was by means of the lucky stone his wish had been fulfilled, they offered all their merchandize for the stone. our friend, whose head, it must be confessed, was not as good as his heart, seeing so many beautiful things, agreed to the bargain at once, without thinking that he need only wish and he could have all those and more beautiful things. he gave the merchants the stone; and it was no sooner out of his hands than he found himself in his former position, which was rendered worse when he compared all the splendour and comfort he had lost to his ugly comfortless box, with only a jug of water and one loaf. his friends, however, did not desert him in his distress, but this time they could not open the box; and, after consulting, the bear said, "i see we cannot do any good without the lucky stone, so let us go to the palace where the merchants now live and try to get it." this was agreed upon; and when they got there they held another council. the bear seems to have had the wisest head, for he was again spokesman, and said, "it is useless for us to expect to be let in here; but you, my friend mrs. mouse, you can creep through anywhere--see, there is just a little hole at the bottom of the door. go in, and, as only one of the merchants is now at home, worry him in every possible way, for you can always manage to escape; and when you have worked him into a perfect fury lead him here to the door, and no doubt he will open it to rush out after you. then we two will go in and easily master him between us. only you take care to find out where he keeps the stone." the mouse got through the hole in the door without difficulty; and, after finding out where the stone was, went in search of the merchant, whom she found in bed. she crept in at the bottom and began nibbling at his toes. the merchant jumped up in a fright, but when he saw the mouse his fright turned to rage, and he made a snatch at it; but the little thing was too quick for him: and now began a chase all round the bed-room, round every table and chair, and into every corner of the next room, and, finally, into the hall, where, jumping up and biting him in the calf of the leg, in order to exasperate him still more, she slipped through the hole she had got in at. [illustration: _the merchant's rough handling._] the merchant threw open the door, and the bear, who was ready, greeted him with the closest embrace. they rolled down together, but the bear soon hugged all the breath out of him, and leaving him in charge of the donkey went with the mouse to fetch the stone. no sooner had they this in their possession than the three went off, regardless of the confusion they left behind them. they soon reached the water-side; but the box was floating in deep water, and the donkey said, in despair-"we shall never get at it." the bear, however, cried, "nonsense, leave that to me, i can swim well enough, so you, donkey, just put your fore-feet round my neck, and take the stone in your mouth, but mind you don't swallow it; and you, my little friend, can make yourself snug somewhere in my long hair." all being satisfactorily arranged, off they set, but were destined to meet with a misfortune on their voyage; for the bear, who was rather fond of hearing himself talk, could not refrain from expatiating on the past adventure. "we managed that pretty well, i flatter myself. what is your opinion, my long-eared friend?" and as the donkey made no answer he continued-"how is this? i was always taught that a civil question deserves a civil answer; but this does not seem to enter into your notions of politeness. who taught you manners, my friend?" the donkey could stand it no longer, but opened his mouth, and out fell the stone "plop" into the water. "there, you see what comes of your talking. could you not wait till our work was finished? how could i open my mouth without losing the stone? and now it is gone, and with it all hope of helping our friend." "well, well, my good fellow," the bear interrupted him, for he was not anxious to hear any more, as he felt himself in the wrong, "a moment's action is better than an hour's regret. i have a bright idea that will put all right again. let us go back, and i'll set about it at once." on the way back the bear called up all the frogs that were in those parts, and said to them, "fetch me up as many stones as possible from the bottom of the water, for i have an idea of building you a place of refuge in case of danger." a loud croaking was immediately heard, which called the frogs from all parts; and they set about collecting stones without loss of time. it was not long before the lucky stone was added to the heap, which the bear immediately seized; and telling the frogs that there were now stones enough, the three friends started off again. they soon reached the box, which now opened without difficulty, and the poor prisoner was relieved; but only just in time, for the loaf of bread was consumed, and he began to suffer from want. as soon as he had the stone in his hand he wished himself back in the palace, which he found just as he had left it. this time he did not forget his friends, and they lived happily together to the end of their days. now, does not this story prove that an act of kindness meets with its reward, and that the ungrateful are worse than the brute beasts, for our three good animals effectually showed their gratitude? [decoration] xxiii. _tim jarvis._ tim jarvis was as decent and hardworking a man as any one could wish to know, till the evil spirit got astride his imagination. tim was not only a decent, hardworking man, but recollected his early lessons, that the evil one should be resisted with might and main. nor was it during the day that the enemy, at first, attempted to gain any advantage; but it was at night that he mainly worked upon his mind by means of dreams. night after night he dreamed of treasures of gold and precious stones that were to be found, first in one place and then in another, till it grew too much for him, and his waking hours were scarcely different to dreaming. he was now found digging anywhere but in his garden or potatoe field; and indeed his dreams led him all the way from ireland to london-bridge, with his spade across his shoulder. now, when poor tim was on london-bridge he felt himself more puzzled than ever he had been in his life; he was quite bewildered by the confusion and noise, and being pushed from one side to another; but after a while he began to recover himself; and as he walked up and down, first on one side and then on the other, he tried the ground with his spade, but quite accidentally like, or as if it were a walking-stick, for he was wide awake. "for sure," he said to himself, "i'm not going to let so many people suspect what treasure is lying under their feet." he was encouraged by the hollowness of the sound; but then again his spirits sank, for he found no spot where his spade could make the slightest impression, nay, he doubted whether he could stick a pin in anywhere, so hard were the stones. when it had grown dark, and the bridge was still crowded, he began to fear that all the people were there for the same purpose as himself; but he was determined that he would tire them out; and indeed the numbers did gradually decrease. st. paul's had just struck twelve, when a stranger, stopping just in front of our friend, said-"well, tim, you have come a long way, but you might have done better nearer home. you know, tim, the lane that runs at the back of your cabin, and you know the old wall, for i've seen you digging under that many a night. well, tim, you were in the right road, but too near home. i've seen you turn sharp round that wall, and, crossing the big bog, look longingly at the heap of stones behind the furze-bush in terry o'toole's field." "yes," sighed tim; "but it would have been more than my life was worth to dig there, for though terry knows well that his whole field is nothing but ugly stones, he would murther man, woman, or child who stuck a spade in any part of the ground--the big baste." "true for you, tim," the stranger said, "but the gold is there." after these words the stranger was gone as suddenly as he had appeared, and poor tim was left, more puzzled than ever. "may be," he said to himself, "its desaiving me he is, that he may have the digging of lunnon-bridge all to hisself, but then sorrow a spadeful of earth could any one throw up here, in all his life. no, it was to meet the sthrainger that i came all the way here without knowing it, so now i'll go back to ould ireland." tim did go back, and, after selling his potatoe-field, bought the waste bit of land, which o'toole was pleased to call a field. what did tim care, when all the neighbours called him mad, or even when his wife threatened him because he sold the bed from under her to buy a new spade and pick, for he knew it was troublesome ground he had to work in, and no mistake. when night came, after he had all ready, tim went to his new property, and, hard as the work was, did not rest till the first grey of morning began to appear. just then, through a crack in the ground, he thought he heard voices below. he listened, scarcely drawing his breath, when all the breath was frightened out of him, for he plainly heard-"we'll give tim a nice dance when he comes for our gold." when he had recovered himself a bit, he scrambled out of the hole as fast as possible, and went home, where he met with no over-pleasant reception from his wife. a strange day that was which tim spent, divided between rejoicing and trembling, for he knew now for certain that gold was there; but he knew, too, that there were some sort of beings to be dealt with; and what were those beings? his hair stood on end as he pictured some frightful monsters to himself; but yet all must be risked to gain possession of the gold, and he said, "it's mighty polite i'll be to the gintlemen, and sure they won't harm a poor man." over and over again he repeated what he should say to the "gintlemen," and thus the day passed; the most anxious day of his life. he took care to arm himself with more than natural courage, in the shape of a bottle of potheen, of which he took a sup, and then another, and then a still longer one, before he jumped into the hole. in the darkness, for night had come on, he plainly saw a light shining through the crack in the ground, as the night before, so he immediately set to work; and he had not thrown up many spades of earth, when the ground gave way, and he sank down, he never knew how low, nor could he ever recollect more than that he found himself surrounded by the strangest little beings, who were all jabbering at once, and seemed very angry. he remembered that he made them his best of bows, and gave them his fairest words, when the tallest of them, stepping forward, addressed tim thus:-"tim, we see that you are a decent, well-spoken, and polite gentleman, and in your case we will overlook our privacy being intruded on, which you must look upon as a great favour." "and 'tis very much obleged that i am to your honer and the other gintlemen, and sure 'tis i that will never forget it; but might i not make so bold as to tell you that i am a poor man, and ask your honour whether you could not help me with a thrifle?" there was a loud shout of laughter, and then the same little fellow that had addressed him before, said, "well, tim, we have plenty of the rubbish you all think so much of. there, take as much of the gold as you can carry." tim saw that the ground was covered with guineas, which he set to picking up as fast as he could stow them away, and when he could not find room for one more, he took both his hands full, sighing that he must leave so many behind. then the little people cried out, "go home, tim jarvis; but shut your eyes close, or some mischief will happen to you." he did as he was told, and felt himself whisked through the air quicker than lightning. some time after he knew that he no longer moved, he ventured to open his eyes, for he felt a mighty tugging at his hair. he found himself by the side of the hole he had been digging, and his wife, who had grown tired of his strange ways of late, was shaking him rather roughly. [illustration: _tim jarvis and his wife._] "lave the breath in me," he cried, "and i will fill your apron with golden guineas." he put his hand in his pocket, but only pulled out a few yellow furze-blossoms. when he saw this tim was quite dejected, and did not venture to answer a word to his wife's reproaches, but allowed himself to be led home. from that night he left off dreaming; and taking again to his industrious, hardworking habits, soon made up for his past neglect, and was not only able to buy back his potatoe-field, but became a happy, flourishing man. his wife used to say that it was only a dream about the little people and the gold, for that certainly she had found him asleep; but tim shook his head. [decoration] xxiv. _the shoemaker and the dwarfs._ why do we read of so many shoemakers that were poor? surely they must have lived in ireland; but, be that as it may, we have to tell of another, who, though he was most anxious to fit all the world, could find no customers, till at last he had nothing left but just leather enough to make one pair of shoes. he had been running about all day, longingly looking at all the feet, and wishing he might measure some one for this last pair of shoes, but he returned, having only worn out his own. however, with all his poverty, he had a light heart and a good wife, who was always ready to cheer him; so he determined to make up the shoes in the very best style, and, putting them in his window, trust to a purchaser. he cut them out, intending to begin his work early the next morning, and went to bed, soon falling asleep. imagine the good man's astonishment when, on the following morning, he found the shoes already made, and in such a manner that he could not take his eyes off them. he put them in his window, though he could hardly make up his mind to part with them, and, half hoping to frighten purchasers away, he set twice as high a price upon them as it had been his custom to charge. however, a customer was soon found; and though it was with regret he parted with those master-pieces of work, yet, when he held so much money in his hand, he was delighted, for not only could he buy leather to make two pairs of shoes, but he could get his wife a few necessaries she had been long obliged to dispense with. that evening he cut out two pairs of shoes, ready for the next morning, when, on getting up, he found those finished, with workmanship no less excellent than that of the night before. for these, also, customers were speedily found, at equally good prices as the previous pair; and that night the shoemaker cut out four pairs of shoes, which he again found made to perfection the following morning. thus it went on, the work that was prepared at night being finished by the morning, so that our good friend soon became a flourishing man; but he and his wife remained as simple in their habits as of old, preferring to spend what they could spare on their more needy neighbours. curiosity seems part of a woman's nature, and the shoemaker's wife certainly felt very curious to see who their friends were that did the work so beautifully; so she proposed to her husband that they should hide themselves, and, leaving a candle burning, watch for their nightly visitors. they did so, and at midnight saw two dwarfs come in, who immediately set to at the work left for them, stitching and hammering away so fast that the shoemaker felt quite bewildered by their rapidity. not one moment did they stop, but worked on till all was finished, and disappeared long before daylight. now, if the shoemaker's wife was curious, she was kind-hearted as well, and was much grieved to see that such good, industrious little fellows should be so neglected by their families and friends, for they had not a stitch of clothes on, when it was winter too. had they no wives or no sisters to look after their comfort? and she proposed to make them a decent suit of clothes each. the good man was delighted at the proposal; so she bought the stuff, and gave herself but little rest till she had made them a coat, waistcoat, and a pair of trowsers each, as near their shape and size as she could guess. as soon as finished, the clothes were left for them instead of the customary work, and the shoemaker and his wife again watched their coming. about midnight they appeared; and when they found the clothes in place of their usual work, they stood for a moment irresolute, and then took up each article, examining it on all sides. they then began to try on the things, not without making several mistakes, for one of the little fellows had got his arms into the legs of the trowsers, whilst the other was putting on the waistcoat over the coat. but at length they were dressed; and having examined each other, and then themselves, they were so delighted that they set to capering and dancing about the room, and playing all manner of antics, jumping over the chairs and tumbling over head and heels, till at last they danced out of the room hand-in-hand. [illustration: _the dwarfs' capers._] they did not appear again; but the shoemaker continued to prosper, and became a rich man; he and his wife being respected and loved by all who knew them. [decoration] xxv. _the countryman and the jew._ there was once a farmer, a great miser, and he had a servant as simple as he himself was close, for he had served his master, three years without being offered any wages, or asking for any. after the three years, however, the man thought he would not work any longer without pay, so he said to his master, "i have worked for you diligently and faithfully, and hope you will now give me a fair reward for my services." knowing that his man was a great simpleton, the farmer gave him three-pence, saying, "i not only reward you fairly, but splendidly--here is a penny for each year; but, now that you are rich, do not squander your money and get into idle habits." the poor fellow thought that he was rich indeed, so determined that he would not work and slave any longer, but travel and enjoy himself. with his fortune in his purse, and his purse safely in his pocket, he set out; and as he was going along, singing merrily, a little dwarf came up and asked him why he was so merry. "why should i not be merry," he answered, "for i am rich and have nothing to do but to enjoy myself? i have worked hard for three years, and saved all my earnings." "and how much might they be?" the little man asked. when told that the amount was three-pence, he said he was very poor, and begged hard for the money. the countryman did not make him ask long, and cheerfully gave him his three-pence, when the little fellow said-"you have a kind, generous heart, and shall not suffer for your liberality. you shall have three wishes, which shall be granted you--one for each penny." the countryman was highly rejoiced, and said, "many thanks, my good friend, for your offer; and, first of all, i would like to have a gun which will bring down everything that i shoot at; and, secondly, i choose a fiddle, to which, when i play, every one must dance, whether he will or no. these will satisfy me, so i will not trouble you with a third wish at present." "your wishes are soon granted," said the dwarf, and gave him the desired gun and fiddle; after which he went his way. our friend was happy before, but now his happiness knew no bounds; and he only wanted an opportunity to try his fiddle, for the gun he had already tried several times as he walked along. the desired opportunity was not long wanting, for he soon met a jew; and just where they met stood a tree, on one of the branches of which sat a plump wood-pigeon. "i wish i had that bird," said the jew; "could you not shoot it for me, my friend?" "that is easily done," was the answer; and the same instant the bird fell amongst some thorn-bushes at the foot of the tree. the jew crept in among the bushes to pick it up; and no sooner was he in the middle than the countryman took his fiddle and played the sprightliest of jigs. the first sound no sooner reached the jew's ears than he began to dance; and, as the tune went on, he jumped and capered higher and higher, at every leap he took leaving a piece of his clothes hanging to the thorns. the thorns soon began to enter his flesh, and, in pain, he cried out-"for heaven's sake, leave off playing! what have i done to deserve this?" "what have you done?" said the countryman. "how many a poor wretch have you not ruined! and the duty to avenge them has fallen upon me, so i will just play you another tune, and mind you dance well to it." the jew then offered him money to give over; but, as his offer did not rise high enough, he had to dance on till, in despair and worn out by fatigue and pain, he said he would give a hundred pieces of gold, which he had in his purse. as the purse was thrown down the countryman's heart was softened; so he gave over playing, took up the purse and went his way, highly delighted with his day's work. [illustration: _the jew's dance._] no sooner had he gone than the jew crept out from among the thorns, half naked, and his heart full of bitterness and revenge. the loss of his money smarted even more intolerably than the wounds in his flesh, and he hastened to the nearest judge, to whom he complained how he had been robbed and ill-treated, giving a description of his tormentor. the judge could not refuse justice to the jew; so he sent out his officers, who soon caught the countryman, and, brought back, he was put upon his trial. the jew's evidence, and the sorry plight he was in, were too convincing to be got over, though the defence was that the money had been given of his own account and not taken from him. the countryman was condemned to be hanged. he was led off to the gallows at once; but just as the rope was about to be put round his neck he said-"my lord judge, i cannot complain of the sentence passed upon me, since my accuser swears that i robbed and ill-treated him, and i only ask to have one favour granted me before i die." "anything excepting your life," was the answer. "i do not ask my life, but only that you will order my fiddle to be restored to me, and allow me to play once more upon it." "no! no! for heaven's sake, no!" cried the jew. "don't let him have that infernal fiddle, my lord, or misfortune will come upon the whole of us." but the judge said his word had been given; so he ordered the fiddle to be given to the prisoner. the countryman no sooner had the instrument in his hands than he struck up a dance, and at the very first note even the judge's feet began to shuffle about as he sat in his chair, and as for the others they fairly danced. in vain the jew caught hold of the clerk's desk, for his legs flew out on either side; and as the height of his capers was checked they only became the more frequent. the judge's clerk, the officers of the court, the hangman, as well as all the spectators, were dancing with all their might, and soon the judge himself danced out of his chair into the midst of them. at first all seemed good humour and enjoyment, and no one, excepting the jew, wished to check the general merriment; but as it went on there were no bounds to the capers, and there were cries of pain, as one alighted on another's toes, and cuffs and blows were exchanged as one jostled the other. the jew, who had broken away from his hold of the desk, was the maddest in his capers, and he shrieked for mercy; the others soon joining in the cry, begged the player to leave off, but he fiddled away faster and faster till the judge promised him a free pardon. the countryman said, "i already once earned the hundred pieces of gold, and i deserve them now again for the dance i have played; so pray, my lord, order the money to be restored to me, or i must think that you are not yet satisfied." the judge then said the money should be given him; but the countryman, without leaving off playing, addressed all the other dancers thus, "you all hear how handsomely his lordship rewards me, and i expect that each of you will show your gratitude, for the amusement i have afforded you, by a present; each according to his means." so anxious were all to put an end to the dance that every one offered what he could afford, but the countryman said, "i did not hear the jew's voice. now, of him i have to request a full confession of how he came by the hundred pieces of gold; and till he has made this confession i must trouble you all to continue the dance." all threatened the jew with instant death if he did not confess; so the rogue was forced to condemn himself by confessing that he stole the hundred pieces of gold; for which he was punished with as many stripes, when the dance was over. [decoration] xxvi. _my watch._ i must tell you my story myself, that is the story of my watch, and bad luck to it, for it was small comfort to me; and what have i now left of it, but to tell the trouble it brought upon me? one day of the year eighteen hundred and thirty-three, tim looney, the parish schoolmaster, a mighty learned man, from whom i got my learning, went up to dublin, to get his lease renewed with 'squire beamish, who is now dead and gone, rest his soul. well, as i was saying, tim looney went up to dublin, and had just come back, when of course all the neighbours came to hear the news from the big city, and molly mahone, as you can imagine, thrust herself before them all, saying-"come, you auld pictur card, when are you goin' to tell us the news? what is the good of you, you auld worm, if you canna even speak?" you know moll is rather hasty. "och, and it's more wonders i have to tell than one of you will believe. i saw the great boneparte riding on a flea, and the dook of wellington by his side, quite friendly like." "and was boneparte a very big man?" said i. "i don't know," said tim; "i've heard say he was a little man, but they call him the great boneparte for all that." "he was a great man," said moll to me, "just as you are a great fool, so hauld yer tongue, will ye, and let tim go on." tim did go on, and told us many other great wonders; but it's of myself i want to speak. well, then, after tim had told us all he had seen, he gave me such a fine large silver watch, and a thirty shilling note, which my sister, biddy, had sent from merica, for me to buy a new fiddle with, for she had heard that i was great in music. i put the watch in my pocket to keep it safe, and then i examined the note all over, thinking all the while how beautiful i would play on my new fiddle; but tim soon stopped me by asking me what o'clock it was. after looking at the sun, which he himself had taught me, i told him it must be about two; when he said, "and why can't you look at the watch, and tell me the exact minute it is?" i didn't look at my watch, for i thought it was making game of me he was, but i said, "and how should she tell me the time of day? can she speak?" "you are a big fool, paul," he said; "look at her face, and see where her hands point to." that she should be able to tell me the time, and have a face and hands, with which she points, was too much, so i burst out laughing, but i took her out of my pocket. "there," tim said, "don't you see something sticking out on her face? those are her hands, and you see they point to numbers; but may be it's your numbers you don't know, after all my teaching." this provoked me, so i looked at what he called her face, and saw the numbers, sure enough, and the things he called the hands too. "well," tim went on, "and what number does the short hand point to?" "none," said i, "for it points just half way between the two and the three." "then the long hand points to six, and it's half-past two it is," tim said. "and how does all this happen?" i asked, for i was sorely puzzled, tim knowing too where the long hand pointed, without my telling him. "put her up to your ear," he said, "and she will tell you how she works." i did as i was told, and heard her go "tick-a-tick, tick-a-tick." as i listened to her a mighty fear came over me, and i flung her from me, crying out, "the crittur does talk some unnatural language, and perhaps she'll bite too." tim caught her, and exclaimed, "what a fool you are, paul!" for he was now quite angry; "if i had not caught her she would have been done for entirely." after he had held her some time in his hands, seeing there was no harm in her, i took her again and went home. i was half afraid of her, so did not look at her again till night, when the big varmint, pat molloy, came in, shouting fit to frighten the life out of one. "is it a watch i hear you've got, paul?" "those ugly long ears of yours heard right," i answered, for i did not much like pat. "and may be then you'll be after telling one the time it is." with that i pulled out the watch, and looked at her; but i had clean forgotten what tim had told me, though i recollected something about her hands pointing to a number, so seeing something pointing to seven, i said at once, "it's near seven o'clock," for i did not like to be looking too long, to be laughed at by that fellow. "and it's near seven, it is," pat said. "you're a fine fellow to have a watch. it's a turnip you might as well have in your pocket, for it's long past eight, it is." the pride of the o'moors and of the o'doughertys was taken out of me entirely quite by that rascal, for i felt it rush from the soles of my feet into my head, but i wouldn't get into a passion, for him to see that i was in the wrong, so i said, "and if you know the time so well, why do you ask me?" pat only burst into a hoarse laugh, and ran out of the cabin to tell every one, he could show his ugly face to. i went to bed to drown my troubles, but it was one long night-mare i had; first the watch and then the fiddle dancing on my chest, grinning at me all the while, with pat molloy looking on. my first thought on waking in the morning was my watch, and looking up to her, for i had hung her on a nail, as i had been told, i said, "good morning to you, how are you this morning, my dear?" for i thought it best to be civil to her, but no answer did she make me. i spoke to her again, and as she was still silent i took her down from the nail and held her to my ear. "och, it's dead she is," i cried, as she still gave no signs of life, and i rushed across to tim's. i knocked at his window, shouting, "are you awake?" "no," he said; "why should i be awake at this time o'morning?" "then," said i, "you must listen to me in your sleep, for it's dead she is, and what will i do at all?" "i hope she had the benefit of the clergy," tim cried, starting up and coming to the window. "it's not that i mean, it's not my mother at all, it's the watch that's dead," i explained. "leave me in peace then," he said, going back to his bed; but as i would not leave him in peace, but kept crying out, "what will i do?" he growled, "wind her up, you fool; she's not dead at all; but give her here, and the key, or it's ruin her you will." so i gave him the watch and the barn-door key, which i happened to have in my pocket. it was well for me that i turned my head on one side, as i thought i heard some one coming, for just then the key came whizzing past my ear. "i wish it had broken your lubberly head," tim cried, in the biggest rage i ever saw him. "it's the little key i want; the one with the bit of red tape i gave you yesterday." i fortunately found the funny little thing in my pocket, but it was not a bit like a key. as soon as i gave it him he twisted and twirled it about in her, till i heard her cry, and then he said-"there, take her away, for she is all right again, and mind you don't let me see you for a whole week, or surely it's murder you i will." now, mind this and you'll see how strangely things come about. if it had not been for this what tim said, i should not have had to tell you the story of my watch, or it would not have ended as it now must. if tim had told me about winding her up the night before i should not have disturbed him in the morning, and he would not have been so angry, and would not have told me not to see him again for a week. he has since said that he did not mean a word of that; and, had i but known it, that tarnation pat could not have cheated me; however i will tell you how it happened. [illustration: _the death of the watch._] directly after i left tim, whom should i meet but pat, who spoke quite civil, saying, "well, paul, and how's the watch? i've been thinking since i heard her 'glucking' last night that it's to lay she wants, and that if she had a nest you'd have some young watches in a day or two." "do you think so?" said i. "i'm sure of it," said he; so we went along to the barn together and made her a nice comfortable nest of hay. "now," he said, as he laid her in it, and covered her up quite warm and snug, "you must not go near or disturb her for five days, or it's desert her nest she will, and you'll have no younguns." well, to finish with my story, after five days i went to the nest, and what do you think i found? no younguns, nor the old watch neither, but a big turnip. i ran to pat's, but he had gone off to america. i never saw my watch again; but up to this day the boys call out, when they are out of my reach-"paul, tell us what o'clock it is." [decoration] xxvii. _fittletetot._ there was a good woman of kittleroopit, but where kittleroopit is exactly i cannot tell you; so it's of no use pretending to more than one knows. her husband was a vagabondizing sort of a body, and he went to a fair one day, from which he not only never returned, but never was anything more heard of him. some said that he enlisted, and others that he had fallen into the hands of the press-gang; certain it is, anyhow, that the press-gang was about the country ready to snap up anyone, for our good dame's eldest brother, sandy, was all but smothered in the meal-tub, hiding from these man-stealers; and after they had gone he was pulled out from the meal wheezing and sneezing, and was as white as any ghost. his mother had to pick the meal out of his mouth with the handle of a spoon. well, when her husband was gone the good woman of kittleroopit had little left but her baby, and there was not much of that; for it was only a wee thing of a few weeks old. everybody said they were sorry for her, but no one helped her, which is a case of constant occurrence, as you know. the good woman, however, had still something left, which was a sow; and it was, moreover, near littering time. but we all know that fortune is uncertain; for one day, when the dame went into the sty to fill the trough, what should she find but the sow lying on her back groaning and grunting, and ready to give up the ghost. this was a blow to the poor woman, so she sat down with the child on her knee and fretted more sorely than ever she had done for the loss of her husband. i must tell you that the cottage of kittleroopit was built on the slope of a hill, with a small fir-wood behind it; and as the good woman happened to look down the hill she saw an old woman coming up the footpath, dressed almost like a lady. she had on a green dress, and wore a black velvet hood and steeple-crowned hat. she carried a staff in her hand as long as herself--the sort of staff that old men and old women used to help themselves along with long ago. they seem to be out of fashion now. well, when the good woman saw the green lady near her she rose up and began courtesying, and said, "madam, i am one of the most misfortunate women alive, for i have lost--" but the green woman interrupted her, saying-"i don't wish to hear piper's news and fiddler's tales, my good woman. i know that you have lost the good man of the house, but that is no such great loss; and i know that your sow is very ill, which is worse; but that can be remedied. now, what will you give me if i cure your sow?" "anything your good ladyship likes," answered the good woman, for she little knew whom she had to deal with. "let's shake hands on that bargain," said the green lady; so they shook hands, and madam then marched into the sty. she looked peeringly at the sow, and then began to mutter something which the good woman could not well understand, but she said it sounded like- "pitter patter, holy water." then she took a little bottle out of her pocket, with something like oil in it, and rubbed the sow about the snout and on the tip of the tail. "get up, beast," said the green woman; and no sooner said than done, for up jumps the sow with a grunt and goes off to the trough for her breakfast. the good woman of kittleroopit was now as happy as need be, and would have kissed the very hem of the green madam's gown-tail, but she wouldn't let her, and said, "i'm not fond of any such nonsense; but now that i have set your sick beast on its legs again let us settle our agreement. you'll not find me over unreasonable. i like to do a good turn for a small reward. now all i ask, and will have, is the baby at your breast!" the good woman of kittleroopit, who now knew her customer, gave a scream like a screech-owl, and falls to begging and praying, but it wouldn't do. "you may spare yourself all this trouble and screeching as if i were as deaf as a door-post; but this i'll tell you, by our laws i cannot take your child till the third day from this day, and not then if you can tell me my right name." hereupon the green lady goes her way, round the back of the pig-sty, and the good woman fell down in a swoon where she stood. that night she could not sleep for fretting, and the next day she could do nothing but hug her baby, that she nearly squeezed the breath out of it; but the second day she thought a walk would do her good, so she went into the fir-wood i told you of. she walked on far among the trees, with her baby in her arms, till she came to an old quarry hole all over-grown with grass. before she came close up to it she heard the "bizzing" of a spinning-wheel and a voice singing, so she crept quietly among the bushes and peeped down into the hole. what should she see, but the green fairy spinning away as fast as possible and singing awhile- "little knows the good old dame that fittletetot is my name." "ah, ha!" laughed our good woman, and she was fit to jump for joy, when she thought how the green old fairy would be cheated. [illustration: _the good woman discovering the fairy._] she was a merry woman when there was nothing to weigh too heavily on her heart, so she determined to have some sport with the fairy when she came the next day, as she little doubted she would. that night she slept well, and found herself laughing in the morning when she woke. when she saw the green fairy coming up the hill, neither lazy nor lame this time, she put the baby under her stool on which she sat so as to hide it, and turning one leg over the other she put her elbow on her knee, resting her head in her hand as if she were fretting. up came the old fairy, and said, "you know what i have come for, so let us waste no time." the good woman pretends to grieve more than ever, and wringing her hands as she fell on her knees, "good, kind madam," she cried, "spare my only child, and take the old sow." "the foul fiend take the sow," the fairy said; "i came not here for swine flesh. now don't be troublesome, but give me the child at once." "oh! my good lady," the good woman again said, "leave my dear child and take myself." "what does the old jade mean?" the fairy cried, this time in a passion. "why, you old fool, who do you think would have anything to do with the like of you, you ugly old cat?" this, i promise you, put the good dame's back up; for though she had blear eyes, and a long red nose, she thought herself no less engaging than the vainest; so up she jumped, and making a courtesy down to the ground, she said-"we cannot all be as beautiful as your own sweet self, and i might have known that i should not be thought fit to tie even the shoes of the high and mighty princess fittletetot." the old fairy could not have jumped higher if she had been blown up; but down she came again, and roaring with rage ran down the hill, followed by the laughter of the good dame of kittleroopit. xxviii. _the wee bannock._ there was an old man who had an old wife, and they lived by the side of a hill. they had two cows, five hens and a cock, a cat and two kittens. the old man looked after the cows whilst the old woman knitted stockings for him, and when she let her ball of yarn fall the kittens sprang upon it, and after it as it rolled away, till it got twisted round all the legs of the chairs and of the table, so that the old woman had plenty to do without knitting the stockings. one day, after breakfast, she thought she would have a bannock, so she made two oatmeal bannocks and put them to the fire to bake. after a while the old man came in and sat down by the side of the fire, and when he saw the bannocks he took up one and snapped it through the middle. no sooner did the other see this than off it ran as fast as it could, and the old woman after it; but the wee bannock ran away and out of sight, and ran till it came to a pretty large thatched house, into which it ran boldly up to the fire-side. there were three tailors sitting on a table, and when they saw the wee bannock come in they jumped up and off the table, and ran behind the good wife who was carding tow on the other side of the fire. "be not afraid," she cried, "it's only a wee bannock. catch it, and i'll give you a basin of milk with it." up she gets with the tow-cards, and the tailor with the goose, and the two apprentices: the one with the shears and the other with the sleeve-board, but it eluded them all. the one apprentice made a snap at it with the shears, but he fell into the ash-pit. the tailor threw the goose and his wife the tow-cards; but it wouldn't do; the bannock got away and ran till it came to a little house by the road-side, into which it ran. there was a weaver sitting on his loom, and his wife was winding a skein of yarn. "kitty," said he, "what's that?" "oh," said she, "it's a wee bannock." "it's welcome," said he, "for our pottage was rather thin to-day. catch hold of it, my girl; catch it." "yes, that i will," said she. "how now! why that's a clever bannock. stop it, willie; stop it, man." but it wouldn't be stopped, and away it went over the hillock and ran into the nearest house, straight up to the fire-side. there was the good wife churning, and she said, "come along, my wee bannock. i have cream, but no bread." however the bannock dodged round the churn, and she after it, till she nearly upset the churn, and before she could steady it the wee bannock was off, down by the side of the stream into the mill. the miller was sifting meal; but when he looked up and saw the bannock, he said, "it's a sign of plenty when you're running about like that and no one to look after you. but i like a bannock and cheese, so come here, and i'll give you a night's lodging." but the bannock wouldn't trust itself with the miller and his cheese, so it turned and ran out again, and the miller didn't trouble himself about it. this time it rolled on gently till it came to a smithy, and in it ran up to the anvil. the smith, who was making horse-nails, said, "i like a stoup of good ale and a well-toasted bannock, so you are just the thing for me." but the bannock was frightened when it heard him talk of the ale, so it ran off as hard as it could split, and the smith after it, but all to no purpose; for it was out of sight in a crack, and it ran on till it came to a farm-house. in it went up to the fire-side, where the farmer was plaiting straw ropes. "why, janet," he cried, "here's a bannock. i'll have the half of't." "well, john, and i the other half." but neither could get hold of it, and off it was, up one side of the hill and down the other, to the nearest house, and in it went up to the fire. the good folks were just sitting down to supper. "shut the door," cried the good woman, "for here's a wee bannock come in to warm itself by our fire, and it's just in time for supper." when the bannock heard this it ran all about the house, and got out at last, when it ran faster and faster till it got to another house. as it ran in the folk were just going to bed. the goodman was taking off his breeches, and his wife raking out the fire. "what's that?" cried he. "it's a wee bannock," said his wife. "i could eat the half of it for all the supper i had," said he. "catch hold of it," cried she, "and i'll have a bit too. throw your breeches at it--there, stop it--stop it!" the goodman threw his breeches at it and nearly buried it, but it got away and out of the house. the goodman ran after it; and now a regular chase began, round the house, through the garden, across the fields on to a common among the furze, where he lost it, and he had to trot home again half naked. it had now grown quite dark, and the wee bannock could not see an inch before it, so by mistake it got into a fox's hole. now the fox had had no meat for two days, so it made a snap at the bannock and it was gone in an instant. it would seem as if there were little use in the wee bannock having escaped so many dangers, but not so, for all its pursuers could do very well without it, whereas the poor fox had fasted two days and must have been really hungry. [illustration: _the bannock hunt._] xxix. _jock and his mother._ there was once a widow who had a son, and she called him jock. now, one day she said to him, "you are a lazy fellow, but now you must go out and earn something in order to help me." "i'll do that willingly," said jock. so away he went, and fell in with a pedler, who said to him, "if you'll carry my pack all day, i'll give you a needle at night." he carried the pack all day, receiving the needle at night; and as he went on his way home to his mother, he cut a bundle of rushes and put the needle in the middle of them. when he got home his mother said to him, "what have you done, and brought home to-day?" "i met with a pedler," said jock, "and carried his pack for him, for which i received a needle, which you may look for among the rushes." "out upon you, for a blockhead," said his mother, "you should have stuck it in your cap." "i'll mind that another time," said jock. the next day he overtook a man carrying plough-shares, and the man said to him, "if you'll help me to carry my plough-shares during the day, i'll give you one for yourself at night." "agreed," said jock. so at night he gets a plough-share, which he sticks in his cap. on his way home he was thirsty, so he went down to the river to have a drink, and as he stooped the plough-share fell out of his cap and was lost in the water. he then went home, and his mother said to him, "well, jock, what have you been doing to-day?" and when he told her she cried out, "how stupid you are, jock! you should have tied a piece of string to it and trailed it after you along the ground." "well, i'll mind that another time," said jock. off he started the next morning and fell in with a butcher. "if you'll be my servant for the day," he said, "i'll give you a leg of mutton at night." "that is a bargain," said jock. and after serving his day out he got a leg of mutton, to which he tied a piece of string and dragged it after him through all the dust and dirt. when his mother saw him she exclaimed, "will you never grow wise? you should have carried the leg of mutton on your shoulder." "well, mother, another time i shall know better," was his answer. the next day he went out as usual, and he met a horse-dealer. he said, "if you will help me with my horses during the day, i'll give you one at night." "i'll do that," said jock. so after serving him he received a horse as his day's wages. he tied the animal's feet together, but was not able to lift it up; so he left it and went home to his mother, whom he told how he had tried to do as she bid him, but that he could not lift the horse on to his shoulder to carry it. "oh, you born idiot!" she cried; "could you not have jumped on its back and ridden it home?" "i'll not forget that the next time," he promised. the next day he overtook a drover driving some cattle to a neighbouring town, and the drover said to him, "if you'll help me safely to the town with my cattle, i'll give you a cow for your trouble." this jock agreed to; and when he got his promised cow he jumped on to its back, and taking its tail over his shoulder, he galloped along, in high glee, towards home. [illustration: _jock's cure for melancholy._] now there was a very rich man who had an only daughter, and she had such fits of melancholy that it was sad to see her; so that, after trying every remedy and consulting all the quacks in the country, he had it publicly announced that whoever could make her laugh should have her for his wife. though she was young and beautiful no one had been found to cure her, and she was sitting in a very melancholy state, at the window, when jock came galloping along on his cow, which seemed so highly ridiculous to her that she burst out laughing. well, according to her father's promise, she was married to jock, and a grand wedding it was, and a grand supper was prepared for the guests; but of all the delicacies jock was most pleased with some honey he had eaten. now, after all the company had departed, excepting the old priest that had married them, and who had fallen asleep by the kitchen fire, jock, who could not forget the honey, said to his bride, "is there any more of that delicious honey we had for supper?" "yes," she answered, "you will find plenty more in jars in the kitchen cupboard." so he went into the kitchen, where the lights had been put out, and all had gone to bed, excepting the priest, who was sleeping by the fire; and he found the honey jars. he thrust his hand into one of the jars to get at some of the honey, but his hand would not come out again, and he did not know what he should do, when he bethought him of breaking the jar on the hearth-stone. now, as already said, the kitchen was in darkness; and jock, mistaking a large white wig, which the priest wore, for the hearth-stone, gave the poor man such a whack on the head with the honey jar that he screamed out murder; and jock, frightened out of his senses, ran out and hid himself among the bee-hives. that very night, as luck would have it, some thieves came to steal the bee-hives, which they bundled into a large plaid, and jock with them without knowing it. off the thieves ran with their booty on their backs, and when they came to the brook where jock had dropped the plough-share, one of them kicking his foot against it, cried out, "here's a plough-share in the water." "that is mine," jock cried from out of the plaid; and the thieves thinking it was a ghost on their backs, let the plaid, with its contents, fall into the water, and it being tied up jock could not get out, so was drowned with all the bees. [decoration] xxx. _the irish highwayman._ it was before the introduction of railways, into ireland at any rate, that a certain irish bishop had occasion to visit dublin. there was, no doubt, a public conveyance of some sort or another of which the good bishop might have availed himself, but his lordship was a portly gentleman and fond of his ease; besides which his wife and daughter wished to make the journey with him, and they never would for a moment have listened to travelling in a dirty car or coach, so their own comfortable carriage was got ready. i said the bishop was portly and fond of his ease, but by that i did not mean to infer that all bishops are stout, for i knew one who was a very lean man; nor did i mean that portly personages are all fond of their ease, that is, not more so than the rest of us are; nor do i now mean that a lean man does not appreciate comfort. be that as it may, the bishop in question had a handsome comfortable carriage which he thought he might as well use; and, indeed, as his lady and daughter were going with him, he had no choice, so the carriage was used and his lordship's horses too; and to save both, as well as the ladies, the journey was performed in easy stages. now the bishop was an advocate for a moderate amount of exercise, and for this reason, as well as to spare his horses as much as possible, he made a point of alighting from his carriage at the foot of the hills, and walking up to the top, unless, indeed, the hill proved too steep. on one occasion he had loitered behind admiring the scenery, which was particularly wild and beautiful, and the carriage had got out of sight. however, as it always waited for him at the top of the hill, that did not trouble him as long as he had only the difficulties of the road to contend with; but soon danger appeared in the shape of an ugly looking fellow, who, suddenly starting up from behind a heap of stones, stood right in front of him, effectually stopping his progress, which was particularly vexatious. from the appearance of the stranger the bishop felt very much inclined to quicken his pace. [illustration: _the bishop and the highwayman._] "what can i do for you, my good man?" said the bishop very civilly, and in his softest voice, for he did not like the look of the man, nor of a dangerous looking club he held in his hand. "as your honour is so civil as to ask," the fellow said, "you may first of all give me your money, for i'm sartain sure so kind a gintleman would not like to see a poor fellow in distress, when you can relieve him by only putting your hand in your pocket." civilly as he spoke he was a determined looking rascal, with whom it would evidently be of no use to argue, so the bishop gave him what silver he had about him, hoping to get off with that; but he was mistaken, for the fellow had no sooner put it into his coat pocket than he said-"your honour has made a mistake, for it's sure i am a thorough gintleman like you could not intend to give only a few paltry shillings. but i beg your riverence's pardon, for i see now that you are an ornament of the blessed church. it's some gold pieces you intended to give me; but it will save your riverence trouble if you give me your purse." this was accompanied by a scarcely perceptible movement of the club, which however seemed a very convincing argument, for his lordship immediately produced his purse, which as quickly followed the silver into the capacious pocket. "i'm sorry to trouble your honour, your riverence i mane, any further, for i see you're in a hurry, and it's beg your pardon i do for the same; but i judge you're going to dublin, and you can have everything in the big city for the asking; but here nothing can be got for love or money, and you see that i want a new coat and hat. now i'm sure so kind a gintleman won't mind changing yours with me." "this is too much, my good man," the bishop said, driven to resistance by this extraordinary demand. "recollect that you are breaking the laws of god and man, and think of the punishment in this world and the next. be satisfied, for you have taken all my money, and my clothes i will not part with." "now, sure," was the answer, "your honor's riverence makes a mistake, for you gave me that bit of money, and it is that very kindness makes me not believe that you mane to refuse me now. pray consider, and i'll wait with pleasure for another answer, for i know you'll be sorry." he stepped back a few paces, and, as if to while away the time whilst waiting for the answer, he flourished his cudgel about, first over his head, then on one side and then on the other. what was to be done? the poor bishop saw that help was hopeless and resistance equally so, and, after a few moments' hesitation, he took off his coat and hat, laying them on the heap of stones by his side. "now, bless your riverence," the fellow said, "i knew you would not refuse me; but after all your kindness i cannot allow you to be without a coat and hat. it would be neither comfortable nor dacent, and, therefore, just put on my coat. indeed i'll not take a refusal," he continued, as the bishop hesitated, and he helped his lordship on with his tattered garment. he then removed his unresisting victim's wig and placed his old hat on his head. "now i hope you intend to let me go," the bishop said. "i have one more favour to ask, and then i will bid your riverence a very good morning. i must beg the loan of your watch till i have the honor of seeing you again, for there is no watch or clock for miles around, and it is very awkward, for i don't know when to be at my work, and i'm afraid of cheating my employer out of some of the time due to him. your honor can easily get another." "will you never be satisfied? but beware of keeping me any longer, for there is my carriage close by, and the servants, whom i have only to call to my help." this the bishop said in despair, pointing along the road as he spoke, but he had a quick reply. "don't trouble yourself to call, for i saw your riverence's carriage pass, and it is far out of hearing." this his lordship knew well, so he gave up his watch, and was at length allowed to depart. he hurried on, for he was afraid of another demand being made upon him, and it was not long before he reached his carriage. much astonishment was caused by his extraordinary appearance, and after he had related his adventure his wife said to him: "throw off that filthy coat, my dear, for we shall soon reach a town where you can buy something more befitting you to wear." "not so easily, my dear," was his reply, "for i have not a shilling of money left." "well, never mind," his wife said, "take off the nasty thing, for positively you cannot come into the carriage that figure. i'll give you my cloak to cover your shoulders." the good man was not used to resist his wife, so he took off the coat, throwing it upon the road. as he did so some silver fell out, which induced him to make his servant examine it, and to his joy and relief all his property was found in the pocket. the party reached dublin without any further adventure, and a few days after received intelligence of the capture of the highwayman. xxxi. _fiddling jackey._ there was once a little boy, who led a very unhappy life, for his father was tipsy from morning till night, and he had no mother to soothe and console him when he had met with ill-treatment, which happened almost daily. i cannot tell you exactly how long ago this was, but it must be a long, long time, for there were fairies then, and the birds, trees, and flowers sang and spoke, which you know has not happened within your recollection, at all events. jackey's father, for jackey was the little boy's name, was village musician, and had once played the violin remarkably well, but since he had taken to drinking had grown so careless that his scraping was a horror to all who could hear at all, that the dogs even howled in disgust, and probably in pain, for the noise they made was piteous in the extreme. now, when the drunken fiddler reeled home at night, accompanied by the most dissolute of the village, the shouting of these, the horrid scraping of the fiddle, and the discordant chorus of some twenty or thirty dogs, made the more steady and respectable portion of the community tremble in their beds, with some undefined fear. all this, you must know, happened in germany, where in every cottage of the villages there is, at least, one dog, and where the watchman, who is generally the swineherd as well, no doubt was not over sober himself, and more likely to add to the noise than stop it. though the fiddler was a sad reprobate, and his playing of the worst description, he was tolerated; for the fact is that the most of the elder portion of the villagers cared only for drinking, and the younger ones thought of nothing but dancing; so he was good enough for them after all. his disorderly life and cruelty had killed his poor wife, jackey's mother, who would have looked upon death as a real blessing, had she not feared for the future of her young son; however, jackey, who was eight years old, had the thoughtlessness of youth and good health to support him, though, it is true, he cried bitterly after his father had been beating him, and felt sorrowful enough when he had not enough to eat, which happened but too often. jackey still remembered the time when, though at rare intervals, his father played really well; and the sweet sounds of music had so entered his very soul that he felt a secret consolation within him, amidst all his troubles. this love of music, though it consoled him, occasionally caused him more bitter sorrow than the most cruel beatings; for when he looked at the violin, hanging against the wall, neglected and covered with mud, he thought of the sweet sounds that were still within it, though there was no one to bring them out. now, one day, when jackey had been staring longer than usual at the violin, and his mind was filled with sad thoughts, his father happened to come in, and the poor boy, mustering up all his courage, said-"my dear father, do not be angry if i ask what the poor fiddle has done to you that you neglect it so? take care or it will die too, as my dear good mother did, of a broken heart." the only answer to this was a sound thrashing; and, as the beating had been more severe than usual, so jackey cried longer and more bitterly, all by himself, for his father had gone again; but, as the pain grew less, his crying was not so violent nor loud; then he thought he heard a voice, like sobbing, come from the wall. there was no mistaking it, the sobbing proceeded from the violin, and jackey's tears burst forth afresh; but there must be an end to all things, and when he had become calmer, he got on a chair, so as to be nearer the instrument, and whispered-"my dear fiddle, you pity me, and now i have a friend in the place of my good lost mother. but you, too, i am afraid, are not more happy than she was. tell me if i can do anything for you." "i do pity you," the violin answered, "for you are a good boy, and i wish to console you for the loss of your mother, and make you forget all the hardships you have to suffer. at the same time, you can do me a very great service. take me down, and when you have cleaned me and put me in proper order, i will teach you how to make me sing again, better than ever i used to do. then i shall be happy, and you, my poor boy, will forget your sorrow, for i know that sweet sounds will console you in all your troubles." [illustration: _the neglected fiddle repining._] jackey said, sorrowfully, "oh, how i wish to make you happy! but if i take you down, my father will beat me, and, what is worse, perhaps, in his passion, throw you against the wall, and dash you to pieces." "be not afraid, but do as i tell you," the violin answered; "you know that your father is at the tavern all day long till dusk, when he comes to fetch me, and if, by chance, he does come in, he never notices anything. i promise you no harm shall happen to you; so take me down and carry me, with the bow, into the forest, where, by the side of the stream, i will teach you how to make me bring forth sweet sounds." "you know better than i do what is safe to do, so i will take you to the forest, as you tell me." as he said this, jackey took down the violin, and having cleaned and tuned it, according to its own directions, he carried it and the bow into the forest, where he seated himself by the side of the rivulet. the breeze played between the leaves and branches of the trees, the leaves and branches rustled, the birds sang sweetly, the stream murmured softly, and all seemed to say-"welcome, jackey! welcome to the forest!" "oh, how delightful it is here!" jackey cried; "and now, my dear fiddle, teach me to imitate all these sweet sounds." the violin told him how to hold the bow and where to place his fingers; and all the birds came round him, first one whistling a note till he could imitate it, and then another giving him the next note, and so on; the rivulet, too, and the wind assisted; and then came the nightingale and taught him how to join the different notes together, that they might harmonize and form sounds agreeable to the ear. jackey was so attentive, and did all so well, that the trees, the flowers, the stream, and all the birds cried out-"bravo, jackey!" as soon as evening began to draw near jackey put up his fiddle and prepared to go home, when all the voices, with one accord, cried-"come again soon, and we will sing together." jackey went the very next day, and every succeeding day, and he made the flowers join in the universal harmony. his dear fiddle seconded him in all his endeavours, so that very shortly he imitated all the voices of the forest with the greatest accuracy. it happened about this time that the landlord of the village inn died, leaving a widow, who wished for nothing better than to give him a successor as speedily as possible; but though she was rich, and the business most thriving, yet no suitors appeared. jackey's father, in his drunken moments, thought he would propose to the widow, for he said to himself that, when master of the inn, he could have as much drink as he liked without paying for it; but when a little more sober his courage failed him, for she was the veriest shrew, and the charms of her person were no more engaging than those of her character. her hair was neither red, brown, nor black, but a sort of dirty coloured mixture of the three, and each hair seemed to go a different way. her nose was very, very long, not projecting, but hanging down, like the beak of some of the small tribes of parrots. i think the love-birds have such beaks, but i can scarcely compare her to those, for certainly she had nothing of the love about her. well, her nose, anyhow, was like a parrot's beak, but flattened down, and that on one side, or else it would have covered her mouth, which would have been no great harm, for that was as ugly a feature as any other, and not improved by having only half the due number of teeth, which, unlike the nose, stuck out instead of hanging down. her eyes were like those of a cat, and one squinted awfully. shaggy eyebrows and a pointed hairy chin complete her portrait. her figure was long, lank, and shapeless--shapeless not meaning no shape at all, but an ugly shape. most people have some redeeming qualities, or quality at least, but no one had yet discovered hers, and no one had been found bold enough to propose to the interesting widow, though she let it be clearly understood that she wished to remain a widow no longer. jackey's father had so often made up his mind to make her an offer that at last his mind became familiarized to the horror, and if not in love with the widow, he was decidedly so with her beer and spirits; so one evening, having screwed up his courage to the highest pitch, he, in a few words, offered himself as a husband. the widow took but a few minutes to consider, that, though he was a drunken, worthless fellow, he was better than no husband at all; so she did not give him time to draw back, but accepted him with all his faults. the wedding followed with the least possible loss of time, and the guests drank deeply to the health and happiness of the bride and bridegroom, but the happy husband drank more than any of them. this was a happy beginning; but how short-lived is happiness, for to his this was not only the beginning but also the end. how changed was everything the very next day! beer and spirits were carefully locked up, and the poor fiddler was put under the water-cure treatment, and this was the first of a series of strictly sober days. he did not resign himself to petticoat government without a struggle, but in every way she was more than his match. adversity is the bitterest of all medicines, but frequently acts most beneficially on the soul, if not on the body. so it proved with the fiddler, for though, during the first few days of his new life, his temper was sourer than ever, by degrees his spirit was broken, and the outbursts of passion became less frequent. passion was of no avail, for it never gained him his object, and his amiable spouse still remained his better half. example had its effect also, for as he daily suffered from his wife's intolerable temper, her unamiability, which at first roused his anger, now caused disgust and horror, and occasionally he could not help reflecting that in many respects he had been like her. as yet the improvement in his character was involuntary, forced upon him, as it were, and failed to soothe his mind and feelings; but jackey, being treated with less harshness, began to feel for the first time that he had a father. the good boy, looking on his father now without fear, saw the dejection he was constantly labouring under, and, as much as he had dreaded and almost abhorred the harsh brutal man, he now pitied his suffering father, so that he took every opportunity to get near to him, sometimes venturing a remark; and one day, when he saw him in a particularly desponding mood, he fetched the violin and played the voices of the forest to him. jackey's father was at first bewildered by the tender emotions to which his heart had so long been a stranger, but as the sweet sounds continued, it seemed as if his nature were changed and a new life dawned upon him. he clasped his son to his breast and burst into tears. when he became a little calm, he said-"how beautifully you play, jackey! how did you learn? but why inquire? you have always been a good boy, and kinder, better spirits than those of the earth, seeing you so neglected by your unnatural father, have taken compassion on you. i have led a bad life, but now i see my faults, and i will be always kind to you, my son. oh, jackey, your good mother will forgive me for all my past cruelty when she sees how i watch over her dear child!" "dear father," jackey said, "my dear, good mother, who is in heaven, forgives you now. oh, if she were but here to share our happiness!" "play me that tune once more," his father said, "and then we will go to your step-mother, and i will beg and pray of her to send you to school, for i can do nothing, my poor boy." they went to that amiable lady, with whom, however, all prayers were in vain. she said she would not spend a farthing of her money on father or son, but that jackey should be a shoemaker; that she would send him to her brother, who was a shoemaker in a neighbouring village, where he would soon be broken of his idle habits. jackey said he would not be a shoemaker; whereupon she gave him a slap on the face, which made his ears sing and bright spots dance before his eyes, promising at the same time to break his fiddle over his head. jackey, however, was none the less determined not to be a shoemaker, and his only trouble was how to keep the dear fiddle out of her way. the next morning very early he was waked by a kiss from his father, who said-"get up quickly, my boy, and dress yourself, for i cannot do anything for you here, not even protect you, and it will be better to trust to the kindness of strangers than go to that cruel woman's brother, who no doubt is as bad as herself. we must part, my dear jackey, but i do not fear for you, for wherever you play the airs you played me yesterday, you will be sure to find friends. take your fiddle then, and wander forth into the world, and if you remain a good boy, as you have hitherto been, god will watch over you and protect you. make haste; and in the meantime i will see what i can find to eat for you to take with you." jackey was ready when his father returned with some provisions done up in a bag. "now follow me," he said, "and take care that you do not make any noise, so that no one may hear us." they got out safely and went straight to the forest, where jackey's father stopping, said to him, "you are now safe out of the clutches of your wicked stepmother, and we must part; but, my dear boy, we will put our trust in providence, and, if my life is spared a few years longer, i shall see you again, for when you prosper in the world, and prosper you will, my son, you will not forget your old father." "let me remain with you, my dear father," jackey said, "for you are not happy, and i will try to cheer you with my fiddle. i do not mind my stepmother's cruelty." "no, my child, it must not be," his father answered, "i have deserved my fate, and will try and bear it with resignation; but fortune awaits you in the world, far from here. do not cry; and now, with my blessing on you, we must part." he pressed his son to his breast, and turned back without uttering another word. jackey watched him till he was out of sight, and then sadly went on his way into the forest, he knew and cared not whither. after a time he reached the very spot, by the side of the rivulet, where he had first sat with the violin and listened to the voices of the forest; and as he seated himself, the rustling in the trees and the murmuring of the stream joined with the different notes of the birds in forming the harmony of music. the sadness of his heart gradually became softened, and, taking the violin out of the bag in which he always kept it, he again imitated the various sounds he heard, the birds vieing with each other to teach him something new. returning cheerfulness and the freshness of the air reminded jackey that he had not yet eaten anything, so he made a good breakfast off the provisions put up by his father, not forgetting to give some crumbs to the birds that gathered about him; and with a light heart he continued his journey deeper into the forest. he thus wandered on all day, and neither found the time long, nor was he weary; for there was constantly something new to see, and hear, and imitate upon his dear fiddle. the sun had sunk below the horizon, tingeing a few feathery clouds with a beautiful pink, and the little wanderer saw no end to the forest; but that did not trouble him, and he chose a soft mossy spot for a bed, on which he lay down, and was soon fast asleep, forgetful of time and everything else. nothing disturbed his quiet slumbers till about midnight, when a sudden light flashing across his eyes awakened him. he started up, and saw it as light as day all around. yet it was not daylight; it was more like the light of the moon, but milder and warmer. he looked through some bushes, where the light seemed strongest, and stood transfixed with amazement at what he saw. hundreds of the most lovely beings were dancing in a circle, whilst thousands of others seemed to fill the air around. some were sitting, swinging backwards and forwards, on the different flowers, whilst others, in countless numbers, appeared gliding up and down the rays of light. he thought he had never seen anything so beautiful as the little aerial beings before him. though so very small--for they were not nearly the size of jackey--their forms were fully developed, and of the most exquisite elegance and grace. the maidens in particular, who seemed all of the age of seventeen or eighteen, were lovely in the extreme. jackey knew they must be fairies; and two of the number who were a little taller, and, if possible, more beautiful than the rest, besides that they wore silver crowns, he judged to be the king and the queen. dazzled by the light and the beauty of the scene before him, he was for a time lost in admiration; but gradually the sweet tones, as the fairies sang, gained the ascendancy, and all the other senses seemed absorbed by that of hearing. as the fairies danced, they sang, and were joined by thousands of other voices--in sounds, now of the most lively merriment, then softly till they became solemn, when again they burst forth in the wildest strains. the dance never ceased; but as some withdrew from the ring their places were taken by others, who began the song anew. jackey had no knowledge of time, whether the music continued for minutes only or for hours; however, it became fainter and fainter till it melted away, and he found himself in darkness; but long, long after he lay down again it seemed as if he still heard the fairy song, and when he awoke in the morning it still sounded in his ears. [illustration: _the sight jackey saw._] "how lovely!" jackey exclaimed; "oh, could i but imitate those sweet sounds!" "try," the violin said from its bag. "well thought," jackey cried; and taking it out, immediately began to play the fairy song. he played it over and over again, and each time better, till at length he said, kissing his dear violin, "well done, fiddle, we can do it now." then jackey ate his breakfast, and having tried the song once more, he resumed his wanderings through the forest. he stopped several times to play the fairy song again, trying also his other tunes, to see that they had not been driven out of his memory by these still sweeter sounds; and having had his breakfast very early, had made a finish of his stock of provisions, but that did not trouble him, though there seemed no end to the forest. about mid-day, however, he began to feel hungry again, and hastened his steps, in hopes of finding some outlet from the forest, or at least some woodman's hut. he began to feel some anxiety for the future; but he did not despair, for he was a good boy, and put his trust in providence. the birds sang merrily, as if to cheer him; and soon he saw that the forest became lighter, nor was it long before he found himself on the highway, and at no great distance stood a village. anxious as he was to reach some human habitations, when he was outside the forest he turned round to bid it farewell, and thank his dear birds for their kindness to him. a farewell sounded back, and cheerfully he went on his way to the village. he remembered his father having said that wheresoever he played he would be sure to find friends; and no sooner did he reach the first houses, than he took out his violin and began to play. first he played the voices of the forest, and soon all the people were at their windows and their doors, listening to him; but when he played the fairy song, they came out and surrounded him, and he had to begin again and again. there was now a contest amongst the principal inhabitants of the village who should take the wonderful boy to their home, when the clergyman and his wife carried him off. jackey would not accept their kindness without telling them that he could not stay long, for his father had sent him to seek his fortune in the world, that his father was not happy at home, and that he was going back to fetch him as soon as he had made his fortune. the good people promised that they would not keep him longer than he felt inclined to remain with them. they were, however, so kind that week after week still found him there, and he was so intelligent and docile that every one loved him. living now with people of good education, jackey soon felt his ignorance, and applied himself so diligently to his studies, in which he was assisted both by the clergyman and his wife, that he made rapid progress. he did not neglect his music, and frequently went back into the forest--no one interfering with his wanderings. neither did he forget his father, nor give up the intention of seeking his fortune in the world, though he was delayed by the persuasion of his kind protectors, who, however, gave their consent to his departure after he had been with them about a year, providing him with every necessary for his journey, as also with a small supply of money. jackey had improved as much in person as in mind, but retained his former innocent simplicity of heart and kindly feelings, so that his feathered friends loved him still, and he was as happy as the day was long. he visited one country after another, passing from village to village, and from town to town; and wherever he played, both old and young surrounded him, and every one was ready to befriend him. thus year after year passed away, and jackey had grown to be a tall, handsome youth of about nineteen, with flowing black hair, large dark eyes, and an expression of cheerfulness and good humour. his playing was celebrated far and wide, but, more particularly, when he played the fairy song every one was carried away by admiration and surprise. in each country he visited many inducements had been held out to detain him; but a secret impulse drew him on till he came to a large and powerful kingdom, which he found plunged in the deepest mourning; for not only had the queen just died, but the most beautiful of princesses, her daughter, was brought to the very verge of death by grief at the loss of her beloved mother. her royal father, whose only child she was, in the utmost despair, had promised half his kingdom to the physician who should save her; but the only remedy the most learned could propose was any excitement that would distract her from her grief, for it was that alone that was consuming her. this remedy was beyond their art, and the king proclaimed that whoever cured the princess should be the inheritor of his throne and the husband of his daughter, if she consented to marry him. jackey, on hearing this proclamation, determined to try what his art could do to cure the princess, since all that was required was to enliven her, and make her forget her grief. he trusted that, with the help of providence, he should succeed; and that, if even the princess would not marry him, which he scarcely dared to hope, he might still receive a reward sufficient to secure his old father's future happiness, besides having the consolation of saving the life of a young lady universally beloved. he went boldly to the palace, where he was immediately admitted, on stating what his errand was; for the king had given orders not to refuse admittance to any one, however humble, who came to cure his daughter. [illustration: _jackey playing to the princess._] the king was much surprised and disappointed when he saw jackey; but after he had received an explanation of the means intended to be employed, he became more reconciled, and ordered him to be conducted to the princess's apartment. jackey gazed with admiration at the beautiful form before him; and to the interest he before felt was added pity, for the princess lay in bed with closed eyes and so pale as if death had already laid its icy hand upon her. he felt that he would willingly lay down life itself to restore colour and animation to that lovely face, and determined to exert his utmost skill in her behalf. first he played the voices of the forest--the soft breeze gliding through the leaves, the low murmur of the stream, and the gentle warbling of the birds; then, as the princess's attention was attracted, he made his violin speak louder and louder, and the princess exclaimed, "how came i into the forest? oh! how delightful it is! sing on, you darling birds!" at length she opened her eyes, and sitting up in the bed, looked about her in amazement. jackey now played the fairy song; and when he had finished, she said--"go on, gentle youth, i entreat you. you have been sent by heaven to call me back to life." she sank back upon her pillow, and as jackey continued to play, she fell into a soft sleep, with a smile on her lovely face. the king, having been informed of all that had happened, hastened to his daughter's room; and the calm expression of her features, together with the assurance of the head physician that all danger had now passed over, made him, for the moment, forget all his sorrow; and embracing jackey, he assured him of his everlasting gratitude. the next day the princess awoke, restored to health; and when her preserver was presented to her by the king, she received him with the sweetest smile, and thanked him in the kindest terms. but that was not all jackey's reward; for when the princess was told of the promise made by her royal father to whoever should save her life, she declared herself ready to fulfil that promise, as soon as the time of mourning for her departed mother had passed. they were, however, betrothed before the whole court, and the king publicly proclaimed that, next to himself, jackey should be the first in the land. an establishment in every way befitting a prince of the royal blood was appointed him, and he lived in the closest intimacy with the king and his amiable daughter. jackey, however, in all his splendour, and by the side of his future bride, did not forget his old father, nor the promise he had made him; so he begged permission of the king to go and visit him, which was immediately granted. he set out on his journey to the village where he was born, attended by a numerous retinue, travelling day and night till he reached the forest where he had learned the first notes of music, the foundation of all his fortune. he remembered all the trees, but the whole generation of birds that had known him had long since died. in his heart, however, he thanked them for their kindness, and in remembrance of them he passed on in silence, having left his attendants at the beginning of the forest. his heart beat with anxiety and fear, lest his father should no longer be living, for it was more than ten years since he had left his home; but when he reached the stream where he had first sat in the forest he saw an old man sitting by its side. jackey immediately recognized his father, but the old man did not see him, for he was plunged in sorrow. wiping a tear from his eyes, he said, "am i never to see my dear jackey again? for how many years have i come here every day, till gradually all his friends have died off--and he, too, i am afraid, must be dead; and i am the cause of his death, for it was i persuaded him to go out into the world." jackey now took out his violin, which he had carried with him, and played the tune with which he had first soothed his father's grief. the old man recognized the notes, and he cried out, "that is my own jackey! come to my arms, my dear boy!" it was long before either could find words; but then the old man told him that his stepmother was dead; and jackey related all his adventures, and his present happiness and splendour. jackey went with his father to the village; but the next day he had him removed to where he had left his followers, and they all returned, without loss of time, to the king, and jackey's future wife. jackey and his father were received with great rejoicings, and when the time of mourning for the late queen was over, jackey was married to the lovely princess, with whom he spent a long life of happiness and peace, reigning with justice and wisdom over the kingdom after the king and his own old father were dead. [decoration] xxxii. _teeny-tiny._[1] [1 from halliwell's "nursery stories."] once upon a time there was a teeny-tiny woman, who lived in a teeny-tiny house in a teeny-tiny village. now one day this teeny-tiny woman put on her teeny-tiny bonnet, and went out of her teeny-tiny house to take a teeny-tiny walk. and when this teeny-tiny woman had gone a teeny-tiny way she came to a teeny-tiny gate, and went into a teeny-tiny church-yard. and when this teeny-tiny woman had got into the teeny-tiny churchyard she saw a teeny-tiny bone on a teeny-tiny grave, and the teeny-tiny woman said to her teeny-tiny self, "this teeny-tiny bone will make me some teeny-tiny soup for my teeny-tiny supper." so the teeny-tiny woman put the teeny-tiny bone into her teeny-tiny pocket, and went home to her teeny-tiny house. now when the teeny-tiny woman got home to her teeny-tiny house she was a teeny-tiny tired; so she went up her teeny-tiny stairs to her teeny-tiny bed, and put the teeny-tiny bone into a teeny-tiny cupboard. and when this teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep a teeny-tiny time she was awakened by a teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard, which said--"give me my bone!" at this the teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny frightened, so she hid her teeny-tiny head under the teeny-tiny clothes, and went to sleep again. and when she had been asleep a teeny-tiny time the teeny-tiny voice again cried out from the teeny-tiny cupboard a teeny-tiny louder--"give me my bone!" this made the teeny-tiny woman a teeny-tiny more frightened, and she hid her teeny-tiny head a teeny-tiny further under the teeny-tiny clothes. and when the teeny-tiny woman had been to sleep again a teeny-tiny time the teeny-tiny voice from the teeny-tiny cupboard said again a teeny-tiny louder--"give me my bone!" [illustration: _the teeny-tiny woman's fright._] and this teeny-tiny woman was a teeny-tiny bit more frightened, but she put her teeny-tiny head out of the teeny-tiny clothes, and said in her loudest teeny-tiny voice--"take it!" [decoration] xxxiii. _the cannibal cow._ it was in the year ----. but why should i insult you by being more particular in date than that it was during the irish rebellion, when, one dreadfully stormy night, old goff, with his wife, daughter, and only son, tim, were sitting in the kitchen, which not only served as general sitting-room, but was also the old couple's bed-room? the wind howled and blew in gusts, shaking the windows and doors as one without, in a hurry to get in, amongst whose virtues patience could not be numbered. "this is a fearful night," old goff said, "and fearful work, may be, is going on just now; for i heard from neighbour flanagan that the red-coats have been seen in the neighbourhood. go, tim, and see that all the doors are well fastened; and when the old woman has given us our supper, we'll get to bed, for that is the safest place these times." the old man had no sooner spoken than there was a tap at the door--at first, gentle; as, however, neither father nor son moved, but sat staring at each other in fear and trembling, the knocking grew louder and louder. at length tim whispered, "hadn't you best go to the door, father, for that will impose upon them more, if it's thaves they are, and show more respect, like, if it's the red-coats?" "no, no, my son!" the old man whispered back, "you go; for then they will see that you are safely at home, like a steady lad, and not out with those wild boys, who are the cause of all these troubles. go, my son; but don't open the door, for the life of ye, but ask the gintlemen, civil, who might be there, and what they might be wanting?" there was no help for it, so poor tim crept to the door, and, after listening whether he heard the cocking of pistols or the clanking of swords, mustered courage to ask who was there. "and who should it be, sure," was answered from without, "but paddy, auld paddy the piper? och! then let me in, darlint, that i may warm and dry mesel', for it's caulder than the 'squire's greetin', and as damp as the say itsel'." [illustration: _a terror-stricken household._] without answering him, tim ran back to his father, who, in the mean time, had put out the light, and had got as far as the kitchen-door to listen. now tim, in his hurry, rushed upon the old man, who went rolling down, and tim, to save himself, caught hold of the table, which he upset, and he himself fell sprawling upon the floor. not being hurt, he went to help his father, who was shouting thieves and murder, and it was some time before his son could convince him that the place was not full of thieves, but that it was only paddy the piper who wanted to come in. "nay, lave me in pace," he said, as tim tried to raise him up, "for i'm dead, sure!" "but what about paddy?" tim asked. "and are ye sure it's paddy it is, and that it is by himself he is?" and then the old man added--"if it's the piper himself, i think bad not to give him the bit and the sup; but ye mustn't let him in, tim, for sure it's paddy has a baddish name, and if he's found here we shall all swing for't. but take the kay, my boy, and let him into katty's shed, where he can be as comfortable, like, as the priest himself in his own bed, and he shall not go without his supper." now katty, you must know, was old goff's best and favourite cow, and as such had a shed to herself, to which tim led the piper; and when paddy had a good large mug of whisky, he forgot that he was wet and cold. we will not assist at old goff's recovery from being "murthered quite," but suppose him, as well as the others, safely in bed; and as we shall be busy with the piper we will not disturb them till the morning. paddy was so warm and comfortable after his supper, but more particularly after the whisky, that he felt one drop more would make him the happiest man in all ireland; but he dared not risk offending old goff by disturbing him again, for he always found a good friend in him when his wanderings took him that way. what was to be done? he tried to sleep, but it would not do; though it was not the want of a bed that troubled him, for it was little paddy knew of that, except by name, and, indeed, katty gave him the best of accommodation; but yet the comfort was fast oozing out of him. now paddy had a friend who, quietly and quite in private, distilled the best of spirit, and there was no fear of his being in bed--at least, not at night. true, he lived full four miles off, and most of the way lay across a dreary bog; but now that paddy was once with him in imagination he found less rest than ever. tim had carefully locked katty's door; but, though old, the piper was still active, so made nothing of clambering up to a hole in the roof--for where is the shed or cabin to be found in ireland that has not a hole in the roof? if, indeed, what should be the roof is not one big hole. in dear old ireland everything is old, excepting the hearts and spirits of its people. once outside the shed, paddy made the best of his way towards his friend's; and expectation giving strength and activity to his legs, he ran briskly on, when, all at once, he was brought to a stand--not because he was out of breath from running, but from astonishment at the fruit borne by a sturdy old tree he had just reached. a man, well and securely hanged, was dangling from a branch of the tree, with his toes most provokingly just beyond reach of the ground. paddy peered at him through the dark, to see which of his friends it was, and then addressed him thus:--"och! murphy, me lad! and is it yerself i run my nose agin here in the dark? but i forgie yer for not gettin' out o' the way, seeing that yer movements are not quite yer own. now tell me what has brought yer here in this ugly fix? but how's this?" he continued, examining his friend still more closely--"and was it for this dance yer put on them iligant boots? why, murphy, i shouldn't know yer if i didn't see that it's yerself! but now," paddy continued, talking to himself, "his dance is over, and what will he be wanting with his boots? i'm sartain he won't mind if i borrow them, for sure me own brogues are none of the best. but why, my auld friend," he said, again addressing the hanging man, "why didn't yer put on yer sunday best intirely, for yer no better than a scarecrow dangling there?" paddy examined himself from head to foot, and then, shaking his head, he muttered--"no, i canna better mesel', 'cepting with the boots, which i'll make bold to take, trusting poor murphy won't feel his feet cauld." after thus alternately soliloquising and addressing his friend, paddy set himself to work to pull off the dead man's boots, but they resisted all his efforts. he took it good-humouredly and out of humour, but with equally bad success, and at length went on his way; but he could not make up his mind to resign such a splendid piece of good fortune, so he returned after he had gone a few steps, and made another attempt. the boots, however, remained immoveable, and losing all patience, he exclaimed, "bad luck to them!" and taking out a large knife he carried with him, cut off the legs just above the boots, thinking that, more at his leisure, he would be able to clear them out. his plans were now altered, and instead of going on to his friend, he returned to katty's shed, carefully carrying his new acquisition under his arm. he found no difficulty in getting back into the shed, but the difficulty of freeing the boots from the feet and portion of the legs that remained in them was increased rather than lessened; and at length paddy fell asleep over his unaccomplished task. when he awoke day was already beginning to dawn, and as he wanted to be early at a small town, some six miles off, where there was to be a fair, he had no time to lose; so he quickly got out of the shed, leaving the boots behind him as useless--his friend murphy's feet pertinaciously keeping possession of them. not long after, tim went to fetch him to breakfast, to make up for the inhospitality of the previous night; for with returning light the courage of the family was restored, and, as is frequently the case with weak minds, day gave an appearance of security to that which night had shrouded in danger. what was his surprise to see the shed occupied by katty alone; for he had found the door locked as he had left it the night before, and yet paddy was nowhere to be seen. he never once thought of the hole in the roof, and was puzzled beyond measure. paddy must be somewhere; so he looked in all the four corners of the shed, under the straw, and even under katty herself, who was comfortably lying down. he now saw the boots, and was more puzzled than ever. he scratched his head, as people will do when the understanding is at fault, and during that process a horrible light burst upon him. he rushed out of the shed back to the kitchen, where, to the amazement of all, he let himself fall into old goff's, just then, vacant chair, his mouth open, his hair erect, and his eyes nearly starting from his head. all exclaimed with one voice, "what in heaven's name has happened! what is the matter with you, tim?" after gasping several times for breath tim cried out, "och, the unnatural baste! och, the blood-thirsty cannibal! poor paddy! och, the murthering brute!" "in the name of all the saints tell us what has happened!" his father said; and after a few more incoherent sentences, tim related how on going into the shed he could not find the piper, though he could not have got out, for he had locked the door the night before, and found it still locked; how that, after looking all about, he had discovered the boots, but that katty had eaten up poor paddy. [illustration: _tim's dismay at katty's cannibalism._] an exclamation of horror burst from all. "every bit of him," tim continued. "the blood-thirsty baste has eaten every bit of him. not a morsel of poor paddy is left but the boots." the rest were quite as much horrified as tim himself, and not a word was uttered till his sister, who first recovered something like self-possession, said, "let us go and look once more, for it is almost too horrible to believe that katty could do such a thing; she has always been such a good, gentle beast." "och, the cannibal!" tim muttered, with a shudder. "tim," old goff said, "i've heard that a cannibal is one man that eats another, and if so, perhaps katty is not a cannibal; but, mind me, i'm not going to defend the unnatural baste if she has eaten the piper. did you say his pipes and all are gone? take care and don't go too near the crittur, but take the pitchfork with you. oh, that i should ever live to hear the like!" most unwillingly tim went back to the shed; but as his sister led the way he was ashamed to remain behind. however, when they got there katty began bellowing with all her might, for she was unused to being neglected, and felt herself ill used that tim should have been in without taking her her morning's food, and now finding herself again disappointed, she stared wildly at them. both started back, and tim cried, "see there, how wicked she looks! is that the baste you say is so gentle? sure she's dangerous, let's go back." the sister ventured in and took the boots, which she carried to the house. these told the tale but too clearly, and poor katty had not a single voice raised in her favour. it was now discussed what should be done with the animal, for keeping her was out of the question. who would drink the milk of such a beast! besides, it was dangerous to go near her; and it was therefore settled that tim should take her to the fair, which fortunately was held that very day, and sell her at any price. suddenly they were startled by a loud bellowing from the shed, for during this time no one had thought of feeding the poor beast, and the next moment all were seized with the utmost consternation, for katty appeared at the shed door and walked straight up towards the house. the kitchen was now a scene of the wildest confusion, for in their eagerness to seize upon any article of furniture that might serve as a weapon of defence, they rushed against each other; but katty stopped at some fresh grass that was in a cart near the house, which indeed had attracted her. as soon, however, as she had taken the edge off her morning appetite she went to the window, for she was a sociable beast, and had always been accustomed to be noticed; but all the inmates of the kitchen were huddled together at the further end, and their terror is indescribable when she pushed the window open, for it had not been properly fastened. she, however, stood so quiet, and looked so gentle and mild, that after a time old goff mustered courage to say, "now that she has filled herself with grass she will perhaps not bite, so now is the time to secure her. take the rope that is hanging up there, tim, make a noose, and slip it quickly over her nose." as tim hesitated, his sister said, "i will go with you;" and then he did as he was directed, till, as he was about to slip the rope over her nose, she opened her mouth, thinking it was something for her to eat. tim started back so suddenly that, losing his balance, he fell flat upon the floor, shouting for help, but his sister, catching hold of the rope, put it round katty's nose; and when tim saw that there was no danger he finished the work for her, tying the rope at least half-a-dozen times round the unresisting creature's jaws. nothing now remained to be done but for tim to get on his sunday clothes, which did not take long, and poor katty was led off, receiving much rougher treatment than she had been accustomed to. for a time tim and katty had the road to themselves, and were not over-pleasant companions, for to poor katty all seemed strange; besides that she received many a blow from her guide, who was in anything but a good humour; and when they were joined by any one it made it none the more pleasant for tim, who now found out all the difficulties he had to contend with, for he was not prepared with an answer when asked what was the reason why katty was to be sold, or why her mouth was fastened up so. what could he answer, for, as he said to himself, "if i tell the truth who would buy the unnatural baste? and i won't let the people think we want money." his pride revolted at this; but it was evident he must be prepared with a more satisfactory answer than he had hitherto given, namely, that he did not know why his father intended to part with his cow, for he heard two farmers, who had lately joined the others, talking thus together. the one said, "why, that is old goff's favourite cow, sure it can't be it's selling her he is, for i heard that he was offered twelve pounds for her no longer than a fortnight ago, but he wouldn't sell her at any price." "may be it's gone dry she is," said the other. "no, she doesn't look like that." "then it's money he wants. may be the rint isn't paid, and--" "no, it's not that," the first speaker interrupted him, "for old goff is too close an old fist not to have plenty of money; but mark me, neighbour, there's something wrong with her, sleek and fresh as she looks, and it isn't i that would be buying her at any price." poor tim was sadly puzzled, for it was impossible he could escape being asked all manner of questions, and he knew no more than his heels what to say. then, too, he feared that no one would have her, and what should he do with her then. his worst fears were soon to be realized, for a new comer, who had heard the end of the conversation of the last two speakers, now said to him-"well, tim, and what has the darling of your house done that you want to sell her? is it fits she has, for there is something wild in her eye? or it's vicious she is? speak, man, what is the matter with her?" to avoid unpleasant questions, tim said, "it's too much trouble to my sister to attend to her, for it's my sister's cow she is." "and is it washing her face of a morning that's too much trouble to your sister?" tim was now asked; "or perhaps combing her hair is troublesome, or may be it's cutting her corns your sister doesn't like; but come, tim, that won't do, man, for why is katty more trouble than the other cows? let me look at her, that i may see what ails her." he examined her all over; and, to tim's horror, taking the rope from round her nose, looked into her mouth, but he could not discover one single fault in her, which only excited his suspicion the more. "may be you'd take five pounds for her?" and, as tim eagerly assented, he continued, "you'll take five pounds for her, and your father just a day or two ago refused twelve. there's something in all this i can't make out, so go on with her, for i'll none of her. i'm not going to be tricked by you." tim was now in utter despair. he saw plainly he must say that it was money they wanted. but would even that do, for his father had other cows, and why sell the one which everybody knew was the favourite? his only chance was to get rid of her to some one who did not know him, and he therefore hurried her on to the market. the market was very full, and, when he found himself surrounded by strange faces, he felt more at ease; however, no purchaser was found, and tim began to feel not only impatient, but seriously uneasy, for katty looked about her in a very suspicious manner, and he dreaded the consequences should she grow very hungry. he shuddered as he thought of the fate of poor paddy, and, oh horror! just then he thought he saw paddy himself in the distance. he could not take his eyes from the spot where he had seen the horrid apparition, though he trembled at the possibility of its reappearance. there it was again, beckoning to him. this was more than poor tim could bear, and he rushed wildly out of the market, down the nearest turning, and out of the town. on he ran, not knowing where, pursued in imagination by poor paddy's ghost, till out of breath, when he ventured to look back. he could run no more, for he was now transfixed to the spot by horror. katty, with her mouth open, came full gallop after him, and quicker than the wind followed paddy's ghost. he stood motionless till they were close upon him, and then fell senseless to the ground. when he recovered he found paddy holding a pocket flask of whisky to his lips, whilst katty was looking at him with the mildest expression of concern. "what were you doing in the market with katty? and what, in heaven's name, induced you to run away as if possessed by a thousand devils?" paddy said. "what does all this mean, tim? have you gone clean mad?" "and is it you, paddy?" tim asked; "or is it your ghost? for if it's your ghost i beg your honor ten thousand pardons for all the trouble i've given you, in making your honor run after me so far. and i beg your honor to forgive my auld father and mother, and my dear sister, and to forgive me too. and i humbly beg your honor will not haunt us, for it will be the bodily death of us all; but if we can do anything to give your blessid soul rest, tell me what it is and it shall be done. where shall we bury your blessid feet? it was not our fault that this blood-thirsty baste, bad luck to it, ate you up last night, all but your honor's feet, bless them. directly we found out the misfortune that had happened to your honor, for i went early to fetch you to the most iligant breakfast my mother could get ready, we all settled that the cannibal brute should no longer be one of our family, and i brought her to the market to sell. this is every word the blessid truth. so i beg your honor to forgive us, and may your soul rest in peace!" "stop," paddy cried, "or yer'll be the rale death o' me." it was now paddy's turn to fall, and he rolled about on the ground convulsed with laughter, for he now saw what a mistake murphy's boots had led to. when he had recovered himself enough to be able to speak, he told tim how all had happened, and advised him to take katty home again directly, which he did, and katty became even a greater favourite with the whole family than ever she had been. xxxiv. _the three men of gotham on nottingham bridge._ you, of course, know that the good people of gotham have been particularly noted for their wisdom; but if, by chance, this should not form one of the items of your varied knowledge, the stories i am about to relate will leave no doubt on your minds as to the justice of the report. whether it may be something in the air that has made these people so peculiarly gifted i cannot tell, for i must confess that i have never been at gotham, and know absolutely nothing of the geological properties of the soil, or indeed of the neighbourhood in any way, excepting that nottingham is the principal city of that part of the country. you probably know, as well as i can tell you, what nottingham is noted for, so i will say nothing about it, particularly as what i might and could say would in no way help us in clearing up the mystery, namely, why the inhabitants of one particular place should be mentally gifted beyond others. if, indeed, we were considering nottingham itself i might attempt some sort of an explanation, by telling you that a great part of the business of the town being shoemaking would perhaps account for a contemplative turn of its citizens, for shoemakers are supposed to be men of deep thought. why this should be so is another mystery requiring to be cleared up, which i will leave to others to do, and only just remark, that there can be no doubt several cases of men of thought and talent among that class might be cited. i will only mention the german shoemaker, of whom perhaps you have heard, who wrote up over his shop,- "hans saxs shoe maker and poet too." that's not bad, particularly for a german. but to return to gotham, with which a consideration of nottingham has nothing to do. we all know particular individuals who are shining stars, and even families of stars we know, but still that does not tell us how and why there should be a whole community of such extraordinary lights. we have confessed our inability to explain this in the case of gotham, and therefore let us take a liberal view of the matter, and suppose that from generation to generation the children inherited from their parents such a happy development of brain, that it was utterly impossible they could be anything but wise. it might be worth a phrenologist's while to go down there. but mind, i am only speaking of what the people of gotham were, for, as i said, i know, personally, nothing of the place, and at the present day all may be materially altered. i cannot tell you exactly when it happened, but on a certain day, in a certain year, two men of gotham met on nottingham bridge. "well met, neighbour," said the one man, "whither are you going?" "i have just come from the market at nottingham, and am going home to fetch my wife and child, whom i forgot," was the answer; "and pray where are you going, neighbour?" "i'm going to the market at nottingham to buy sheep," said the first man. "and which way do you intend to bring the sheep home?" asked the man who had come from nottingham. "over this bridge," answered he who was going thither. "but you cannot," said the one. "but i must," said the other. "but you shall not, neighbour," said the man who was on his way home to fetch his wife and child. "and why shall i not, neighbour?" asked he who was going to nottingham to buy sheep. "you see," said the one, "that there is not room for my wife and child to pass, so keep them back, man." "i care not," said the other, "my sheep shall pass, so let your wife and child stand back." "they shall not pass." "but they shall pass." "woo! woo! back there," shouted the one man, spreading out his arms and legs, as is done to keep sheep back. "woo! woo! get on there," shouted the other, flourishing his stick, and striking the ground first on one side and then on the other. "take care, or you will drive them over my wife. but if she is hurt you shall pay the doctor's bill." "i will not pay the doctor's bill. but you take care, for if you make my sheep jump over the side of the bridge and they are drowned you shall pay for them." "i will not pay for them." "but you must pay for them." whilst this dispute was going on another man of gotham had ridden up, with a sack of meal behind him on his donkey, and hearing the quarrel between his neighbours about the one's wife, whom he had just seen safe at home, and about the other's sheep, when there were no sheep there, he got off his donkey and called to the two disputants to lift the sack of meal upon his shoulders. when they had done so, first untying the mouth of the sack, he emptied the meal over the side of the bridge into the river. then, holding up the sack with the mouth down, before his astonished neighbours, he said,-"will you tell me how much meal there is in this sack?" [illustration: _the three wise gothamites._] "why, none," both said, "since you have just emptied it out." "well," he answered, "just so much wit is in your two heads when you dispute about wife and sheep, and neither wife nor sheep are here." now which was the wisest of the three? [decoration] xxxv. _the man of gotham and his cheeses._ one hot summer's day a man of gotham was on his way to nottingham market to sell his cheeses, which he carried in a bag slung across his shoulder. he found the heat oppressive, and his load so troublesome, that he could not help bewailing his lot in the following words--"unfortunate man that i am, why have i not a cart like neighbour dobbins, or even a barrow like old mathews? my good woman will make so many cheeses that i have no rest any market day. but now i have it; she is a shrewd woman, and i will propose to her to make the cheeses so that they can walk to market, and then i need only walk by the side of them, to see that they do not loiter or play by the way. i wonder she never thought of that." this bright idea consoled him and made him forget even his load for a time, but it weighed so heavily upon him that he was soon recalled to his misfortunes, and as he trudged along he constantly changed the bag from one shoulder to the other. now with these frequent changes the mouth of the bag had got loose, and just as he reached the top of the hill, looking down upon the bridge and nottingham in the distance, one of the cheeses fell out and rolled down the hill. he watched it for a time, and as it kept so well to the road, neither turning to one side nor the other, but jumping over the stones that lay in its way, he exclaimed in delight, "well done, well done, keep on like that, my good friend, and you'll soon be at your journey's end! it was foolish of my old woman not to tell me that they could run by themselves, but now that i have found it out, i'm not going to carry the lazy things a step farther." having come to this wise resolution he bundled the cheeses out of the bag, and, as they rolled down the hill, cried after them, "there, follow your companion; but you need not run so fast, for i shall rest myself a bit and then walk leisurely after you. now, mind you all meet me in the market-place." he watched them with the greatest satisfaction as they ran down the hill and over the bridge, when, the road turning suddenly, they were lost to his sight; and then, too, they all left the road, some running into one bush and some into another, whilst the rest got no further than the ditch by the roadside. [illustration: _the gothamite and his cheeses._] after a short rest the worthy man went on his way to nottingham, without troubling his mind about the cheeses, as he fully expected to find them waiting for him in the market-place; but when he got there he was somewhat astonished to find that they had not yet arrived. "no doubt," he said to himself, "as soon as they were out of my sight they got to some of their games in some field or another. that is always the way, but they'll be here soon." when, however, the market time was nearly over, and the cheeses had not appeared, he inquired of the market people whether they had seen them. no one had seen his cheeses, and when he was asked who brought them he said,-"no one brought them. sure they were quite able to come by themselves, as you would say if you had seen them running along the road; but now i think of it, they were going at such a rate that they are no doubt half way on their road to york by now." so he hired a horse and rode off towards york to try and overtake them, but strange to say he did not overtake them, nor indeed did he ever see them again, nor hear any tidings of them. [decoration] xxxvi. _twelve men of gotham go out fishing together._ twelve men of gotham settled to go out fishing together; and, as the anticipation of pleasure is nearly worth the pleasure itself, they fixed the time a fortnight off, and each day during the interval made some preparation for the great day. the appointed day came in due time, and it was cold and drizzling; but the twelve met, for what true sportsman would allow weather to stop him? they were all in the highest spirits, and their conversation was of the wittiest and most brilliant description, as you will judge it must have been when you know more of the men. i do not attempt to give it you here, being well aware that i could not possibly do it justice. when they got to the river-side, after a lengthy consultation, they settled that the fish would feel shy of coming to them, seeing so many together; and it was therefore agreed they should separate, all to meet again at the same place in five hours' time. after they had fairly divided their provisions into twelve parts, each took his share, and went whither his fancy guided him. exact to the time, the twelve again assembled together, and adjourned to a tavern, where it had been arranged the day should be finished in conviviality. they were cold and wet to the skin, but all declared they had had a delightful day, each reserving his adventures till they were comfortably seated together. most extraordinary adventures they had all had; for one related how, immediately that he had thrown his line, well baited with a worm, he hooked the most wonderful fish he had ever seen; for though it only appeared on the top of the water for a moment at a time, he could plainly discover that it was hairy, and had a long tail. he had given the creature line enough to play, but, when he had followed it more than a mile, the line unfortunately broke--for the beast was strong, being quite as large as a cat. "that is extraordinary," another then cried, "for i, too, followed a hairy fish, such as i never saw before. you must know, as i went along looking for a likely spot, i frightened the creature from the bank, and it swam across the river. as quick as possible, i threw my worm just before its nose, but it would not bite, so, like a shot, i was in the water, and waded across after it. it took refuge in a hole, and when i put in my hand to catch it, it bit me so that i have not been able to use that hand all day, and no doubt that is the reason i have not hooked a single fish. the beast appeared, for all the world, like a rat." a third then told his companions how he had wandered along the side of a river till he came to a mill, where, by the bubbles under the wheel, he could see that the water was swarming with fish. he threw in his bait, and almost immediately had a bite. he felt convinced that he must have hooked several large fish at the same time, for no single one could have pulled the line with such force. the line was strong, so that it did not break, and at length the rod itself was fairly dragged out of his hands, and for a moment disappeared under the water. the fish, however, must have broken away, for the rod appeared again entangled in the wheel, and was whirled round till it was dashed to pieces. finishing the account of his startling adventure, he said, "i am sure, my friends, that at that spot there will be plenty of sport for the whole twelve of us together; and had it not been for that unlucky accident of losing my rod, i should have brought fish enough for all our suppers." various were the adventures narrated, several of them having narrowly escaped drowning, as they said--only that the water was not deep enough. amongst the whole twelve only one fish was produced--a small one, which its fortunate captor had found floating, dead, upon the water. when the last of the twelve had finished his account, he said, "i am sure, my good friends and neighbours, that no twelve men ever had such an extraordinary day's fishing as we have had; and, had we not met with these unfortunate accidents, we should have brought home such strange fish, and in such quantities, that the account of our day's sport would have been inserted in all the newspapers. but, my dear brethren, we have been in many great dangers, and i shudder when i think of it, that perhaps one of us has been drowned. let us count, and see whether the whole twelve of us are safely here." "yes, let us count!" all exclaimed; "for perhaps one of our dear brothers is drowned, and what will his unfortunate widow do?" each of the twelve counted in turn, and each only counted eleven, omitting himself; and then all cried out, "it is but too true that one of our dear brothers is lost! who shall carry the sad news to his widow? but first let us go back to the river, and look for the body." these twelve wise men went down to the river, and searched every place where, during the day, either of them had been, but no body was found, which they bitterly bewailed, as it was deprived of christian burial. they then drew lots which of them should inform the unfortunate widow of her dreadful loss; and when he on whom the lot fell inquired of the others to whose widow he should go, and no one could tell him, they bewailed still more bitterly that they could not discover which of their dear brothers was lost. [illustration: _the lost fisherman found._] it happened that at this time a gentleman from the court was passing, and seeing them in such distress, asked the cause. they said, "this morning twelve of us came down to the river to fish, and one is missing, whom we cannot find." then the gentleman said, "what will you give me if i find your missing companion?" to which they answered, that they would gladly give all the money they had if he could restore their lost brother to them. he then made them stand in a row, and riding along the back of them gave each such a smart cut with his whip that they cried aloud with pain, and as they did so he numbered them; but when he came to the twelfth he thrashed him till he and all his companions cried out for mercy for him; and the gentleman said, "this is the twelfth of you!" whereupon they thanked him for restoring their lost brother to them. xxxvii. _the cobbler's wager._ one fine summer's day a strong, active young man was sauntering along the exeter road, with apparently no immediate object in view but to pass away the time, for he certainly seemed in no hurry to reach the place of his destination--if, indeed, such a thing was in his thoughts, as it undoubtedly should have been, for he was carrying home a pair of shoes he had taken the greater part of the week to mend. you will guess by this that he was a cobbler by trade, and from the way he was going on we may, perhaps, form an idea how it is that cobblers are proverbially so little to be depended upon in the performance of a promise--at least, when that promise refers to their work. the young man we are talking of was not fond of work, but, being a merry, jovial fellow, was much liked in the neighbourhood where he lived, more particularly as he was always ready to give a helping hand to any one who required the assistance of a strong arm, and never hesitated to neglect his own business to help others. perhaps, too, that sort of occupation was more profitable than mending boots and shoes, for he always seemed to have money to spare when he met any companions of his own stamp at the different road-side inns. he was now coming near to such a house, and was trying to find a good excuse to turn in--for the landlord, according to his words, was a man of the right sort--when a butcher, in his cart, carrying a calf he had just bought, whom he knew well, overtook him. no excuse was, of course, required now to drop in at tom turner's, the landlord just mentioned, if even he had not been standing at his door, where, however, he was, ready to welcome them. the three were soon merry enough over a jug of foaming ale; and the butcher, in particular, was in high spirits, for he had not only made a good bargain, but one he prided himself upon. the landlord said to him, "i'm sure you've been playing your pranks off on some one, or that you've overreached some poor wretch in a bargain, makes you in such high glee this morning." "well, i've not done so badly, i think," the butcher answered, rubbing his hands. "a little mother's wit in one's head is worth having, and where's the good if one doesn't use it? you must know i particularly wanted a calf this morning--indeed, i couldn't do without it, whatever price i had to give; and as i happened to hear yesterday that old farmer hagan had some very fine ones, i went to him. now i didn't tell him that i wanted a calf--leave me alone for that--but i said i wanted some sheep, which i knew he just happened not to have. he told me that he hadn't any, and, as i expected, then said he had some first-rate calves which he wished me to see. "'i am very sorry to hear it, neighbour,' i said; 'for calves are falling down to nothing in value since the celebrated doctor tweedle came into these parts. you know that he has declared veal to be the most unwholesome meat there is, and that eating it is little short of eating poison; so that no one will touch it. i have two of the most beautiful calves you ever saw, which i am but too happy to be able to get rid of at thirty shillings each--just half what i gave for them. a friend of mine has occasion for three, which he is going to send off to a distance; so i am glad to be able to do you a good turn, if you are willing to part with one of yours on the same terms; but it must be a good 'un.' "old hagan was loath to part with one of his calves at such a price, but was so frightened by what i had told him, that he let me have the one that is outside in my cart, saying, 'i know, neighbour, that you are not a man likely to be over-reached, and that you would not sell at such a price if you saw a chance of getting a better one.' "now," the butcher continued, "does either of you think he could make as good a bargain as that?" and he chuckled, again rubbing his hands, as they both confessed that they gave in to him. shortly after, the cobbler rose to go, saying, as the butcher offered to give him a lift in his cart, that he was going another way; and as he went out, he made a sign to the landlord to follow him. when they were outside together he whispered, "i should like to play our boasting friend a good trick." "i wish, with all my heart, you could," the landlord answered; "but he is a cunning fellow." "cunning as he is, i've a great mind to steal the calf he's so proud of having cheated old hagan out of, and then sell it him again, but at double the price," the cobbler said. "he's too deep for you," said the landlord; "you can't do it." "what will you bet?" the cobbler asked. "anything you like!" was the answer. "well, then," the cobbler again said, "let it be a gallon of your very best ale. now you go back, and manage--as if without any particular motive--to tell our friend that you have a calf (that can be easily done as he is getting into his cart), when you may as well say that it is just like the one he has. you do this, and leave the rest to me." "i hope, with all my heart, that you'll succeed," the landlord said, as he went back into the house; and the cobbler hastened along the road which he knew was the butcher's way. when he had got some distance from the house, he dropped one of the shoes he was carrying home by the side of the road, where it would be sure to be seen, and then ran on some distance further, where he dropped the other shoe, choosing the spot close by an opening in the hedge by the road-side. shortly after, the butcher came the same way, still chuckling over his morning's bargain, and when he saw the shoe, drew in his horse. he was about to get out, when he thought better of it, saying, "there's some of that careless cobbler's work. he evidently has come this way, and dropped one of the shoes i saw him carrying--but i'm not going to take the trouble to carry it after him. let him come back, and that will teach him not to refuse a civil offer again. if he had but dropped the pair, i should not mind getting out to pick them up--though certainly it would not be to give them to him, but to keep them myself." with these friendly thoughts he drove on, and, before long, saw the other shoe. "hallo!" he said; "why, that lazy rascal of a cobbler, rather than go back when he discovered the loss of the one shoe, has thrown the other away as useless; but i'll not be such a fool, and won't begrudge a little trouble for the sake of a good pair of shoes." so saying, he jumped out of his cart and picked up the shoe, and, finding it was a good one, ran back for the other, leaving his cart standing in the road. no sooner had he turned a corner in the road, than the cobbler jumped out from behind the hedge where he had hidden himself, and having lifted the calf out of the cart, took it on his shoulders, and hurried back with his load, as fast as possible, a short cut to tom turner's house. tom received him with an acclamation of joy; and as soon as they had stowed the calf away in a shed, he produced some of his very best ale, over which they discussed what was further to be done. the cobbler said, "as soon as the butcher finds that his calf has disappeared, and that there are no signs of it, he will be sure to come back to you, having heard you had one; but be sure you do not let him have it a farthing under three pounds, for you know that was the price named by himself, and that he said he must have one to-day at any price. when we have had our joke out, we will give him back his money, making him pay the amount of our wager, and another gallon to boot. but he is a slippery rogue, so mind you do not part with the calf without receiving the money down. and now, what will you bet that i do not steal this very calf again?" the landlord, enjoying the joke, betted another gallon, and his companion continued, "to prepare for another sale, tell him, as he is driving off--tell him you have another calf, the twin brother to this one, and so like it that no one can tell one from the other." after all that had been arranged, the cobbler related every circumstance of the past adventure--not forgetting the butcher's soliloquy--to tom's infinite amusement, and added, "take particular notice whether he says anything about finding the shoes; for if he intends to act dishonestly we may alter our determination about giving him back his money." he had scarcely finished when they saw the butcher's cart at the door, so he hastened away to his former hiding-place. [illustration: _the cobbler carrying off the calf._] the next moment the butcher was in the house, and he cried out, "tom! you must positively let me have that calf of yours, for mine has played me an infernal trick, and has run off! i saw the brute, and ran after it. but it doesn't matter, for i know where it is, and can easily catch it again. but i'm in a hurry, so i thought it better to come back for yours." "how did it happen?" tom asked. "why, my horse got a stone in its hoof, and as i had to go a few yards off to get a dry stick to pick it out with, the brute took advantage of my being away, jumped out of the cart and got into a field by the side of the road. when i got back, though i saw it, it had the start of me, and i was not inclined to run far after it. but, now, i'm in a hurry; so tell me at once, tom, what you want for your calf." tom answered, "you know that i do not quite believe in veal being poison, in spite of the great doctor's opinion; but, to accommodate a friend, i don't mind parting with it cheap, though i really can't take less than three pounds." the butcher, finding that his own words were used against him, made no difficulty, but, paying the money, carried off the calf, tom calling after him that if he lost that he had his twin brother for him. he congratulated himself, as he drove along, that, though he paid dearly for the calf, he had, at least, got a good pair of shoes for nothing. to make up for lost time he put his horse to its best trot, but drew in suddenly when he got to the spot of his misfortune, for he heard a sound like the bleating of a calf. he listened for a moment, and then exclaimed, in glee, "oh! it's you is it, my runaway? now, take my word for it, you shall suffer for this." he jumped out of the cart and got into the field, but the bleating seemed to proceed from the next field, and when he got there from another, till he was led on to a considerable distance from his cart. the cobbler, who had imitated the bleating of a calf, when he had led on the butcher till he got confused, hurried back to where the cart was, and hastily taking out the calf, got safely back with it to tom turner's. tom, who had scarcely expected success this time, was fit to split his sides with laughter, when he heard an account of this last adventure, and in his turn told what had passed between him and the butcher. "why, the rascal!" exclaimed the cobbler, who was a honest fellow himself, "so he intends to steal the shoes, for he knows well enough that they belong to me. we'll give him another chance when he comes back, for i'll tell him that i lost the shoes; but if then he does not restore them, why i'll sell them to him for his calf and the money we get out of him. don't you think it will serve him right?" the landlord agreed, that if he persisted in dishonestly keeping the shoes, he would deserve to pay dearly for them, adding,-"if we could manage it, it would be well to let him have his calf this time for nothing." but the cobbler, who was very indignant at the fellow's shuffling dishonesty, said, "no, no, he deserves no manner of consideration, but i hope he won't prove quite as bad as i think him." the butcher soon returned, and this time told the truth of the manner in which he had lost the calf; but when the cobbler told him of his loss he was far from confessing that he had found the shoes, and that they were then in his cart, hidden under some straw. he was out of humour at his own losses, and said, rather brutally, "you are so careless that your loss serves you right. what is your loss to mine? i have now paid four pounds ten for a calf, and still haven't got one for my customers. come, tom, my good friend, you must be merciful this time, and let me have your other calf a little cheaper. if you'll let me have it for two pounds here's the money, but if not i must go back to old hagan's for one." whilst this bargain was being concluded the cobbler went out, and looking in the butcher's cart soon found the shoes, which he took, replacing the straw as he found it. tom accepted the two pounds that were offered him, and the butcher was this time allowed to get his dearly-bought calf safely home; but i'm sorry to say the owner of the shoes had to wait another day for them, as the cobbler spent the remainder of that one with his friend, and merrily they spent it. xxxviii. _the miller and his donkey._ there was a miller, never mind in what part of the country, who had a tall, gawky son; but their combined wit had not proved sufficient to keep their business in a flourishing condition, for the poor man got poorer and poorer, selling one thing after another that was not absolutely required to keep the mill going, when, indeed, there was work for it to do, till the turn came for the donkey to be sold. this donkey had been a faithful servant to the miller, who looked upon it as a friend, and being a kind feeling man, it was with a heavy heart he made up his mind to take it to the fair to sell--but there is no resisting necessity. on the day of the fair, having some distance to go, he started early, and took his son with him, that they might both see the last of their friend. the donkey walked on in front, thoughtfully and demurely, as donkeys are wont to do, whilst the father and son followed sorrowfully. they soon got into the high road, which was crowded with people going to the fair, and the two poor simple fellows soon became the butt of the different wits. "that is a hopeful son of yours," one would say to the father; "you must feel proud of him i should think." and another would say to the son, pointing with his thumb to his father, "the old 'un looks a tartar; does he whip you much?" many of the like remarks we made to father and son, loud enough to be heard by both, though pretended to be in a whisper; but the principal shafts were shot at them in conversations carried on round about, not a word of which could they fail to hear. "did you ever see such an old fool as that," said one, "to be walking along this hot road, and his donkey going on in front with nothing to carry?" "oh," another said, "that's the donkey behind, for he in front is much the wiser of the two." "i wonder," another joined in, "the old fellow doesn't take more care of himself at his time of life, if not for his own sake, at least for his baby's, for what would become of the poor child if anything were to happen to him?" stung by these remarks the old man got on to the donkey, though he regretted giving the poor beast such a load to carry, and he sought to lighten it by partly walking, for his long legs easily reached the ground. this made matters worse, for he soon heard one of his tormentors say, "look there, was there ever such an old brute? he's taking it easy, and lets his poor boy toil along as best he can. such an interesting child, too! oh, if its mother did but know how cruelly her darling child is being treated." hearing this the miller made his son take his place, and wondered, as he walked by his side, whether he was now doing right. he was as far from it as ever, poor man, for he very shortly heard an exclamation, and this time from an old man, whose opinion should carry some weight. "well, this is too bad; what will the world come to next? here's a big lout of a fellow riding whilst his old father's walking. it's disgraceful, that it is, for if even the fellow's lame, at any rate he should make room for the old man. the donkey's strong enough to carry the two." [illustration: _the burdened beast._] now the miller got on the donkey in front of his son, to whom he whispered not to weigh too heavily on the poor beast's back, and they got on for some distance in peace. but it was not to last long, for when the donkey happened to stumble, from kicking against a stone, there was a general outcry: "they want to kill the poor beast. is there no one to interfere? but it's one comfort that cruelty to animals can be punished. who'll inform against these two big brutes? why either of them is strong enough to carry the poor little thing, instead of breaking its back, as they are doing with their weight." "when shall we do what's right?" said the poor miller. "get off, my son, and so will i, and we'll carry the donkey between us. surely then we shall not be blamed." [illustration: _the beast a burden._] having borrowed a strong pole, they tied the donkey's four legs to it, and each taking an end of the pole across his shoulder, they managed, though with great difficulty, to carry it; but it seemed impossible to please the people. there was a general shout of laughter as the two poor fellows toiled along, nearly weighed down by the load they were carrying; but that was not enough, for the most insulting epithets were showered upon them, till worried and distressed beyond endurance, the old man exclaimed, in despair, "i see there is no doing right, but as long as we remain together fault will be found, so we must part, my old friend;" and as they just then came to a bridge, with his son's help, he threw the donkey over the side into the river below. [decoration] xxxix. _doctor dobbs, and his horse nobbs._ doctor daniel dobbs, of doncaster, had a nag that was called nobbs. one day, in the middle of winter, the doctor having been summoned to attend a patient at some distance from his dwelling, and being anxious to return home before it was dark, rode poor nobbs very hard. on his arrival, not finding his man in the way, the doctor fastened nobbs by his bridle to a rail in the yard, and went into his parlour, where he sat down to warm himself by a good fire. it had happened that the doctor's dairy-maid had brewed a barrel of strong beer, which had been drawn off into the cooler; and the dairy-maid having been called away to milk her cows, she had carelessly left the door of the brewhouse open. the steam of the beer proved wonderfully inviting to poor nobbs, who had been hard rode, and now stood in the cold extremely thirsty. after sundry efforts he got loose from the rail, and repairing to the brewhouse, drank so heartily of the beer, that, before he was aware of it, he fell down dead drunk. the doctor's man coming home, ran into the yard to convey nobbs to the stable; not finding him at the rail, he looked about, and at length discovered him stretched upon the ground, cold and insensible. bursting into the parlour, where the doctor was seated with mrs. dobbs, he communicated to them the news of poor nobby's decease. the doctor and mrs. dobbs were both good-natured people, and of course were much concerned; but as the doctor never suffered misfortunes to get the better of his discretion, he immediately gave orders that nobbs should without delay be flayed, and that his skin should be taken next morning to the currier. the doctor's man accordingly set to work: poor nobbs was dragged to the dunghill, his skin was stripped off, and he was left to be eaten by the hounds. he had not, however, lain long before the novelty of his situation had a considerable effect upon him. as he had lost his skin, of course the coldness of the night operated with double activity in dissipating the fumes of the beer which he had swallowed; and at length he awoke, got upon his legs, and trotted away to the stable-door, which happened to be close by the parlour. not finding it open, and being both cold and hungry, he began to whinny for assistance. the doctor and his wife had just done supper, and happened at that moment to be talking of the accident which had befallen their nag, over a hot bowl of brandy-punch. no sooner had nobbs whinnied, than mrs. dobbs turned pale, and exclaimed, "doctor dobbs! as sure as i live, that is nobb's voice--i know him by his whinny!" "my dear," said the doctor, "it is nobb's whinny sure enough; but, poor thing, he is dead, and has been flayed." he had hardly said this before nobbs whinnied again--up jumps the doctor, takes a candle in his hand, and runs into the yard. the first thing he saw was nobbs himself without his skin. the doctor summoned all his servants, ordered six sheep to be killed, and clapped their skins upon poor nobbs. to make a long story short, nobbs recovered, and did his work as well as ever. the sheep-skin stuck fast, and answered his purpose as well as his own skin ever did. but what is most remarkable, the wool grew rapidly; and when the shearing season came, the doctor had nobbs sheared. every year he gave the doctor a noble fleece, for he carried upon his back, you know, as much as six sheep; and as long as nobbs lived, all the doctor's stockings, and all mrs. dobbs' flannel petticoats, were made of his wool. [illustration: _doctor dobbs on his horse nobbs._] xl. _the brownie._ there was once a farmer whose name was john burdon, a kindly, industrious man, who lived happily with his wife and children, in an old house, where his father had lived before him. his five children were thriving and merry, with no more quarrelling than is usual amongst children, and altogether there was a quiet in the old house, in spite of the games that were going on within. of a sudden all this changed, and every thing seemed to go wrong. whatever the game might be, one of the children was sure to be hurt. if they were playing at ball, the ball would be sure to strike one or the other on the nose or in the eye, on which a bellowing followed; or if the game was puss-in-the-corner, or blind-man's-buff, two or more of the children were certain to run their heads together, or tear their clothes, so that the good dame, whose boast it had always been that they never got into mischief, had now enough to do to repair the daily damage. the farmer, now hearing constant complaints, said some evil spirit must have crept into the house; and he was right enough. a brownie or goblin had taken up his abode there, and not finding the quiet within which the outside promised, bestowed his ill-humour upon the inmates, and daily invented some new scheme for tormenting the children. in one corner of the kitchen in which they generally played there was a closet, where the brownie had located himself; and that he might watch them, and see at what moment he could best torment them, he had thrust out a knot that was in the closet door, thus making himself a little window. now, it happened one day that the eldest boy had the shoe-horn in his hand, and merely in play stuck it in the knot-hole, whence it was immediately ejected, striking the boy on the head. [illustration: _the brownie's revengeful pranks._] as often as this was repeated so often it darted out, such good aim being taken that it invariably struck one of them on the head, and generally the one who had put it there. though one always suffered, it was sport to the others, and therefore the horn was frequently stuck in the hole, so that the brownie became more and more irritated, not confining his pranks to the children, but making the parents suffer in various ways. there would be noises in the night, and things that were in daily use would all at once be mislaid, and, after ever so much trouble and worry, found in places where they had already been a dozen times looked for. there could be no doubt this was the brownie's doing, and there could be still less doubt when the chair was moved back, just at the moment when one of the old couple was going to sit down, and he or she went rolling on the floor, for then a laugh was heard proceeding from the moved chair. this trick was played them more particularly when they had anything in their hands, such as a cup of tea, which would be emptied in the falling one's face, and the laughing on such occasions was louder and longer. at length, unable to bear it, the farmer determined to leave a house where there was no longer any comfort, and, if possible, to let it. the last load of the furniture was being removed, and the farmer, following with his wife, said-"i'm heavy at heart at leaving the old house, where, for years, we were so happy, and perhaps we shall not find the new one half as convenient." "the new one will not be half as convenient," was uttered in a strange, squeaky voice, which seemed to be in an old tub at the back of the cart. "oh! oh! are you there?" cried the poor farmer, "then we may as well turn back." "yes! turn back," said the squeaky voice. they did, in fact, turn back, and from that day peace was restored to the house, for the brownie no longer tormented any of its inmates, nor, indeed, gave any signs of being there, excepting by immediately darting the shoe-horn out whenever it was put in the knot-hole. the end. chiswick press:--printed by whittingham and wilkins, tooks court, chancery lane. transcriber's note text in italics has been surrounded with _underscores_, and small capitals were changed to all capitals. a few punctuation errors have been corrected silently, and an extraneous space was removed. otherwise the original was preserved, including inconsistent spelling and hyphenation. for example: the river pegnitz is also spelled as pegnetz, this has not been changed. [illustration: book cover] [illustration: unexpected results of jimmy's efforts to trap pigs. [_page_ 182]] the adventures of jimmy brown _written by himself_ and edited by w. l. alden illustrated [illustration] new york and london harper & brothers publishers 1902 copyright, 1885, by _harper & brothers_. _all rights reserved._ contents page mr. martin's game 5 mr. martin's scalp 10 a private circus 14 burglars 20 mr. martin's eye 24 playing circus 28 mr. martin's leg 35 our concert 40 our baby 46 our snow man 50 art 57 an awful scene 63 screw-heads 67 my monkey 71 the end of my monkey 77 the old, old story 83 bee-hunting 89 prompt obedience 93 our ice-cream 97 my pig 103 going to be a pirate 107 rats and mice 111 hunting the rhinoceros 117 down cellar 124 our baby again 131 studying wasps 135 a terrible mistake 139 our bull-fight 143 our balloon 150 our new walk 156 a steam chair 162 animals 168 a pleasing experiment 174 traps 180 an accident 184 a pillow fight 190 sue's wedding 196 our new dog 203 lightning 209 my camera 215 freckles 222 santa claus 228 illustrations. page _unexpected results of jimmy's efforts to trap pigs_ frontispiece _"oh, my!"_ 17 _the trapeze performance_ 31 _there was the awfullest fight you ever saw_ 43 _we built the biggest snow man i ever heard of_ 53 _the moment they saw the baby they said the most dreadful things_ 59 _screw-heads_ 68, 69 _my monkey_ 72-76 _the end of my monkey_ 78-82 _wasn't there a circus in that dining-room!_ 85 _sue's ice-cream party_ 99 _sue had opened the box_ 113 _then he fell into the hot-bed, and broke all the glass_ 119 _they thought they were both burglars_ 127 _he went twenty feet right up into the air_ 147 _presently it went slowly up_ 153 _prying the boys out_ 159 _it had shut up like a jack-knife_ 165 _"we've been playing we were pigs, ma"_ 171 _he lit right on the man's head_ 177 _he pinched just as hard as he could pinch_ 187 _i never was so frightened in my life_ 193 _she gave an awful shriek and fainted away_ 199 _how that dog did pull!_ 205 _we hurried into the room_ 211 _i did get a beautiful picture_ 219 _mother and sue made a dreadful fuss_ 225 _they got harry out all safe_ 233 the adventures of jimmy brown. mr. martin's game. what if he is a great deal older than i am! that doesn't give him any right to rumple my hair, does it? i'm willing to respect old age, of course, but i want my hair respected too. but rumpling hair isn't enough for mr. martin; he must call me "bub," and "sonny." i might stand "sonny," but i won't stand being called "bub" by any living man--not if i can help it. i've told him three or four times "my name isn't 'bub,' mr. martin. my name's jim, or jimmy," but he would just grin in an exhausperating kind of way, and keep on calling me "bub." my sister sue doesn't like him any better than i do. he comes to see her about twice a week, and i've heard her say, "goodness me there's that tiresome old bachelor again." but she treats him just as polite as she does anybody; and when he brings her candy, she says, "oh mr. martin you are _too_ good." there's a great deal of make-believe about girls, i think. now that i've mentioned candy, i will say that he might pass it around, but he never thinks of such a thing. mr. travers, who is the best of all sue's young men, always brings candy with him, and gives me a lot. then he generally gives me a quarter to go to the post-office for him, because he forgot to go, and expects something very important. it takes an hour to go to the post-office and back, but i'd do anything for such a nice man. one night--it was mr. travers's regular night--mr. martin came, and wasn't sue mad! she knew mr. travers would come in about half an hour, and she always made it a rule to keep her young men separate. she sent down word that she was busy, and would be down-stairs after a while. would mr. martin please sit down and wait. so he sat down on the front piazza and waited. i was sitting on the grass, practising mumble-te-peg a little, and by-and-by mr. martin says, "well, bub, what are you doing?" "playing a game," says i. "want to learn it?" "well, i don't care if i do," says he. so he came out and sat on the grass, and i showed him how to play. just then mr. travers arrived, and sue came down, and was awfully glad to see both her friends. "but what in the world are you doing?" she says to mr. martin. when she heard that he was learning the game, she said, "how interesting do play one game." mr. martin finally said he would. so we played a game, and i let him beat me very easy. he laughed lit to kill himself when i drew the peg, and said it was the best game he ever played. "is there any game you play any better than this, sonny?" said he, in his most irragravating style. "let's have another game," said i. "only you must promise to draw the peg fair, if i beat you." "all right," said he. "i'll draw the peg if you beat me, bub." o, he felt so sure he was a first-class player. i don't like a conceited man, no matter if he is only a boy. you can just imagine how quick i beat him. why, i went right through to "both ears" without stopping, and the first time i threw the knife over my head it stuck in the ground. i cut a beautiful peg out of hard wood--one of those sharp, slender pegs that will go through anything but a stone. i drove it in clear out of sight, and mr. martin, says he, "why, sonny, nobody couldn't possibly draw that peg." "i've drawn worse pegs than that," said i. "you've got to clear away the earth with your chin and front teeth, and then you can draw it." "that is nonsense," said mr. martin, growing red in the face. "this is a fair and square game," says i, "and you gave your word to draw the peg if i beat you." "i do hope mr. martin will play fair," said sue. "it would be too bad to cheat a little boy." so mr. martin got down and tried it, but he didn't like it one bit. "see here, jimmy," said he, "i'll give you half a dollar, and we'll consider the peg drawn." "that is bribery and corruption," said i. "mr. martin, i can't be bribed, and didn't think you'd try to hire me to let you break your promise." when he saw i wouldn't let up on him, he got down again and went to work. it was the best fun i ever knew. i just rolled on the ground and laughed till i cried. sue and mr. travers didn't roll, but they laughed till sue got up and ran into the house, where i could hear her screaming on the front-parlor sofa, and mother crying out, "my darling child where does it hurt you won't you have the doctor jane do bring the camphor." mr. martin gnawed away at the earth, and used swear-words to himself, and was perfectly raging. after a while he got the peg, and then he got up with his face about the color of a flower-pot, and put on his hat and went out of the front gate rubbing his face with his handkerchief, and never so much as saying good-night. he didn't come near the house again for two weeks. mr. travers gave me a half-dollar to go to the post-office to make up for the one i had refused, and told me that i had displayed roaming virtue, though i don't know exactly what he meant. he looked over this story, and corrected the spelling for me, only it is to be a secret that he helped me. i'd do almost anything for him, and i'm going to ask sue to marry him just to please me. mr. martin's scalp. after that game of mumble-te-peg that me and mr. martin played, he did not come to our house for two weeks. mr. travers said perhaps the earth he had to gnaw while he was drawing the peg had struck to his insides and made him sick, but i knew it couldn't be that. i've drawn pegs that were drove into every kind of earth, and it never hurt me. earth is healthy, unless it is lime; and don't you ever let anybody drive a peg into lime. if you were to swallow the least bit of lime, and then drink some water, it would burn a hole through you just as quick as anything. there was once a boy who found some lime in the closet, and thought it was sugar, and of course he didn't like the taste of it. so he drank some water to take the taste out of his mouth, and pretty soon his mother said, "i smell something burning goodness gracious the house is on fire." but the boy he gave a dreadful scream, and said, "ma, it's me!" and the smoke curled up out of his pockets and around his neck, and he burned up and died. i know this is true, because tom mcginnis went to school with him, and told me about it. mr. martin came to see susan last night for the first time since we had our game; and i wish he had never come back, for he got me into an awful scrape. this was the way it happened. i was playing indian in the yard. i had a wooden tomahawk and a wooden scalping-knife and a bownarrow. i was dressed up in father's old coat turned inside out, and had six chicken feathers in my hair. i was playing i was green thunder, the delaware chief, and was hunting for pale-faces in the yard. it was just after supper, and i was having a real nice time, when mr. travers came, and he said, "jimmy, what are you up to now?" so i told him i was green thunder, and was on the war-path. said he, "jimmy, i think i saw mr. martin on his way here. do you think you would mind scalping him?" i said i wouldn't scalp him for nothing, for that would be cruelty; but if mr. travers was sure that mr. martin was the enemy of the red man, then green thunder's heart would ache for revenge, and i would scalp him with pleasure. mr. travers said that mr. martin was a notorious enemy and oppressor of the indians, and he gave me ten cents, and said that as soon as mr. martin should come and be sitting comfortably on the piazza, i was to give the warwhoop and scalp him. well, in a few minutes mr. martin came, and he and mr. travers and susan sat on the piazza, and talked as if they were all so pleased to see each other, which was the highest-pocracy in the world. after a while mr. martin saw me, and said, "how silly boys are! that boy makes believe he's an indian, and he knows he's only a little nuisance." now this made me mad, and i thought i would give him a good scare, just to teach him not to call names if a fellow does beat him in a fair game. so i began to steal softly up the piazza steps, and to get around behind him. when i had got about six feet from him i gave a warwhoop, and jumped at him. i caught hold of his scalp-lock with one hand, and drew my wooden scalping-knife around his head with the other. i never got such a fright in my whole life. the knife was that dull that it wouldn't have cut butter; but, true as i sit here, mr. martin's whole scalp came right off in my hand. i thought i had killed him, and i dropped his scalp, and said, "for mercy's sake! i didn't go to do it, and i'm awfully sorry." but he just caught up his scalp, stuffed it in his pocket, and jammed his hat on his head, and walked off, saying to susan, "i didn't come here to be insulted by a little wretch that deserves the gallows." mr. travers and susan never said a word until he had gone, and then they laughed until the noise brought father out to ask what was the matter. when he heard what had happened, instead of laughing, he looked very angry, said that "mr. martin was a worthy man. my son, you may come up-stairs with me." if you've ever been a boy, you know what happened up-stairs, and i needn't say any more on a very painful subject. i didn't mind it so much, for i thought mr. martin would die, and then i would be hung, and put in jail; but before she went to bed susan came and whispered through the door that it was all right; that mr. martin was made that way, so he could be taken apart easy, and that i hadn't hurt him. i shall have to stay in my room all day to-day, and eat bread and water; and what i say is that if men are made with scalps that may come off any minute if a boy just touches them, it isn't fair to blame the boy. a private circus. there's going to be a circus here, and i'm going to it; that is, if father will let me. some people think it's wrong to go to a circus, but i don't. mr. travers says that the mind of man and boy requires circuses in moderation, and that the wicked boys in sunday-school books who steal their employers' money to buy circus tickets wouldn't steal it if their employers, or their fathers or uncles, would give them circus tickets once in a while. i'm sure i wouldn't want to go to a circus every night in the week. all i should want would be to go two or three evenings, and wednesday and saturday afternoons. there was once a boy who was awfully fond of going to the circus, and his employer, who was a very good man, said he'd cure him. so he said to the boy, "thomas, my son, i'm going to hire you to go to the circus every night. i'll pay you three dollars a week, and give you your board and lodging, if you'll go every night except sunday; but if you don't go, then you won't get any board and lodging or any money." and the boy said, "oh, you can just bet i'll go!" and he thought everything was lovely; but after two weeks he got so sick of the circus that he would have given anything to be let to stay away. finally he got so wretched that he deceived his good employer, and stole money from him to buy school-books with, and ran away and went to school. the older he grew the more he looked back with horror upon that awful period when he went to the circus every night. mr. travers says it finally had such an effect upon him that he worked hard all day and read books all night just to keep it out of his mind. the result was that before he knew it he became a very learned and a very rich man. of course it was very wrong for the boy to steal money to stay away from the circus with, but the story teaches us that if we go to the circus too much, we shall get tired of it, which is a very solemn thing. we had a private circus at our house last night--at least that's what father called it, and he seemed to enjoy it. it happened in this way. i went into the back parlor one evening, because i wanted to see mr. travers. he and sue always sit there. it was growing quite dark when i went in, and going towards the sofa, i happened to walk against a rocking-chair that was rocking all by itself, which, come to think of it, was an awfully curious thing, and i'm going to ask somebody about it. i didn't mind walking into the chair, for it didn't hurt me much, only i knocked it over, and it hit sue, and she said, "oh my get me something quick!" and then fainted away. mr. travers was dreadfully frightened, and said, "run, jimmy, and get the cologne, or the bay-rum, or something." so i ran up to sue's room, and felt round in the dark for her bottle of cologne that she always keeps on her bureau. i found a bottle after a minute or two, and ran down and gave it to mr. travers, and he bathed sue's face as well as he could in the dark, and she came to and said, "goodness gracious do you want to put my eyes out?" [illustration: "oh, my!"] just then the front-door bell rang, and mr. bradford (our new minister) and his wife and three daughters and his son came in. sue jumped up and ran into the front parlor to light the gas, and mr. travers came to help her. they just got it lit when the visitors came in, and father and mother came down-stairs to meet them. mr. bradford looked as if he had seen a ghost, and his wife and daughters said, "oh my!" and father said, "what on earth!" and mother just burst out laughing, and said, "susan, you and mr. travers seem to have had an accident with the ink-stand." you never saw such a sight as those poor young people were. i had made a mistake, and brought down a bottle of liquid blacking. mr. travers had put it all over sue's face, so that she was jet black, all but a little of one cheek and the end of her nose; and then he had rubbed his hands on his own face until he was like an ethiopian leopard, only he could change his spots if he used soap enough. you couldn't have any idea how angry sue was with me--just as if it was my fault, when all i did was to go up-stairs for her, and get a bottle to bring her to with; and it would have been all right if she hadn't left the blacking-bottle on her bureau; and i don't call that tidy, if she is a girl. mr. travers wasn't a bit angry; but he came up to my room and washed his face, and laughed all the time. and sue got awfully angry with him, and said she would never speak to him again after disgracing her in that heartless way. so he went home, and i could hear him laughing all the way down the street, and mr. bradford and his folks thought that he and sue had been having a minstrel show, and mother thinks they'll never come to the house again. as for father, he was almost as much amused as mr. travers, and he said it served sue right, and he wasn't going to punish the boy to please her. i'm going to try to have another circus some day, though this one was all an accident, and of course i was dreadfully sorry about it. burglars. some people are afraid of burglars. girls are awfully afraid of them. when they think there's a burglar in the house, they pull the clothes over their heads and scream "murder father jimmy there's a man in the house call the police fire!" just as if that would do any good. what you ought to do if there is a burglar is to get up and shoot him with a double-barrelled gun and then tie him and send the servant out to tell the police that if they will call after breakfast you will have something ready for them that will please them. i shouldn't be a bit frightened if i woke up and found a strange man in my room. i should just pretend that i was asleep and keep watching him and when he went to climb out of the window and got half way out i'd jump up and shut the window down on him and tie his legs. but you can't expect girls to have any courage, or to know what to do when anything happens. we had been talking about burglars one day last week just before i went to bed, and i thought i would put my bownarrow where it would be handy if a robber did come. it is a nice strong bow, and i had about thirty arrows with sharp points in the end about half an inch long, that i made out of some big black pins that susan had in her pin-cushion. my room is in the third story, just over sue's room, and the window comes right down on the floor, so that you can lie on the floor and put your head out. i couldn't go to sleep that night very well, though i ate about a quart of chestnuts after i went to bed and i've heard mother say that if you eat a little something delicate late at night it will make you go to sleep. a long while after everybody had gone to bed i heard two men talking in a low tone under the window, and i jumped up to see what was the matter. two dreadful ruffians were standing under sue's window, and talking so low that it was a wonder i could hear anything. one of them had something that looked like a tremendous big squash, with a long neck, and the other had something that looked like a short crowbar. it didn't take me long to understand what they were going to do. the man with the crowbar was intending to dig a hole in the foundation of the house and then the other man would put the big squash which was full of dynamighty in the hole and light a slow-match and run away and blow the house to pieces. so i thought the best thing would be to shoot them before they could do their dreadful work. i got my bownarrow and laid down on the floor and took a good aim at one of the burglars. i hit him in the leg, and he said, "ow! ow! i've run a thorn mornamile into my leg." then i gave the other fellow an arrow, and he said, "my goodness this place is full of thorns, there's one in my leg too." then they moved back a little and i began to shoot as fast as ever i could. i hit them every time, and they were frightened to death. the fellow with the thing like a squash dropped it on the ground and the other fellow jumped on it just as i hit him in the cheek and smashed it all to pieces. you can just believe that they did not stay in our yard very long. they started for the front gate on a run, yelling "ow! ow!" and i am sorry to say using the worst kind of swear-words. the noise woke up father and he lit the gas and i saw the two wretches in the street picking the arrows out of each other but they ran off as soon as they saw the light. father says that they were not burglars at all, but were only two idiots that had come to serenade sue; but when i asked him what serenading was he said it was far worse than burglary, so i know the men were the worst kind of robbers. i found a broken guitar in the yard the next morning, and there wasn't anything in it that would explode, but it would have been very easy for the robbers to have filled it with something that would have blown the house to atoms. i suppose they preferred to put it in a guitar so that if they met anybody nobody would suspect anything. neither mother nor sue showed any gratitude to me for saving their lives, though father did say that for once that boy had showed a little sense. when mr. travers came that evening and i told him about it he said, "jimmy! there's such a thing as being just a little too smart." i don't know what he meant, but i suppose he was a little cross, for he had hurt himself some way--he wouldn't tell me how--and had court-plaster on his cheek and on his hands and walked as if his legs were stiff. still, if a man doesn't feel well he needn't be rude. mr. martin's eye. i've made up my mind to one thing, and that is, i'll never have anything to do with mr. martin again. he ought to be ashamed of himself, going around and getting boys into scrapes, just because he's put together so miserably. sue says she believes it's mucilage, and i think she's right. if he couldn't afford to get himself made like other people, why don't he stay at home? his father and mother must have been awfully ashamed of him. why, he's liable to fall apart at any time, mr. travers says, and some of these days he'll have to be swept up off the floor and carried home in three or four baskets. there was a ghost one time who used to go around, up-stairs and down-stairs, in an old castle, carrying his head in his hand, and stopping in front of everybody he met, but never saying a word. this frightened all the people dreadfully, and they couldn't get a servant to stay in the house unless she had the policeman to sit up in the kitchen with her all night. one day a young doctor came to stay at the castle, and said he didn't believe in ghosts, and that nobody ever saw a ghost, unless they had been making beasts of themselves with mince-pie and wedding-cake. so the old lord of the castle he smiled very savage, and said, "you'll believe in ghosts before you've been in this castle twenty-four hours, and don't you forget it." well, that very night the ghost came into the young doctor's room and woke him up. the doctor looked at him, and said, "ah, i perceive: painful case of imputation of the neck. want it cured, old boy?" the ghost nodded; though how he could nod when his head was off i don't know. then the doctor got up and got a thread and needle, and sewed the ghost's head on, and pushed him gently out of the door, and told him never to show himself again. nobody ever saw that ghost again, for the doctor had sewed his head on wrong side first, and he couldn't walk without running into the furniture, and of course he felt too much ashamed to show himself. this doctor was mr. travers's own grandfather, and mr. travers knows the story is true. but i meant to tell you about the last time mr. martin came to our house. it was a week after i had scalped him; but i don't believe he would ever have come if father hadn't gone to see him, and urged him to overlook the rudeness of that unfortunate and thoughtless boy. when he did come, he was as smiling as anything; and he shook hands with me, and said, "never mind, bub, only don't do it again." by-and-by, when mr. martin and sue and mr. travers were sitting on the piazza, and i was playing with my new base-ball in the yard, mr. martin called out, "pitch it over here; give us a catch." so i tossed it over gently, and he pitched it back again, and said why didn't i throw it like a man, and not toss it like a girl. so i just sent him a swift ball--a regular daisy-cutter. i knew he couldn't catch it, but i expected he would dodge. he did try to dodge, but it hit him along-side of one eye, and knocked it out. you may think i am exaggelying, but i'm not. i saw that eye fly up against the side of the house, and then roll down the front steps to the front walk, where it stopped, and winked at me. i turned, and ran out of the gate and down the street as hard as ever i could. i made up my mind that mr. martin was spoiled forever, and that the only thing for me to do was to make straight for the spanish main and be a pirate. i had often thought i would be a pirate, but now there was no help for it; for a boy that had knocked out a gentleman's eye could never be let to live in a christian country. after a while i stopped to rest, and then i remembered that i wanted to take some provisions in a bundle, and a big knife to kill wolves. so i went back as soon as it was dark, and stole round to the back of the house, so i could get in the window and find the carving-knife and some cake. i was just getting in the window, when somebody put their arms around me, and said, "dear little soul! was he almost frightened to death?" it was sue, and i told her that i was going to be a pirate and wanted the carving-knife and some cake and she mustn't tell father and was mr. martin dead yet? so she told me that mr. martin's eye wasn't injured at all, and that he had put it in again, and gone home; and nobody would hurt me, and i needn't be a pirate if i didn't want to be. it's perfectly dreadful for a man to be made like mr. martin, and i'll never come near him again. sue says that he won't come back to the house, and if he does she'll send him away with something--i forget what it was--in his ear. father hasn't heard about the eye yet, but if he does hear about it, there will be a dreadful scene, for he bought a new rattan cane yesterday. there ought to be a law to punish men that sell rattan canes to fathers, unless they haven't any children. playing circus. the circus came through our town three weeks ago, and me and tom mcginnis went to it. we didn't go together, for i went with father, and tom helped the circus men water their horses, and they let him in for nothing. father said that circuses were dreadfully demoralizing, unless they were mixed with wild animals, and that the reason why he took me to this particular circus was that there were elephants in it, and the elephant is a scripture animal, jimmy, and it cannot help but improve your mind to see him. i agreed with father. if my mind had to be improved, i thought going to the circus would be a good way to do it. we had just an elegant time. i rode on the elephant, but it wasn't much fun for they wouldn't let me drive him. the trapeze was better than anything else, though the central african chariot races and the queen of the arena, who rode on one foot, were gorgeous. the trapeze performances were done by the patagonian brothers, and you'd think every minute they were going to break their necks. father said it was a most revolting sight and do sit down and keep still jimmy or i can't see what's going on. i think father had a pretty good time, and improved his mind a good deal, for he was just as nice as he could be, and gave me a whole pint of pea-nuts. mr. travers says that the patagonian brothers live on their trapezes, and never come down to the ground except when a performance is going to begin. they hook their legs around it at night, and sleep hanging with their heads down, just like the bats, and they take their meals and study their lessons sitting on the bar, without anything to lean against. i don't believe it; for how could they get their food brought up to them? and it's ridiculous to suppose that they have to study lessons. it grieves me very much to say so, but i am beginning to think that mr. travers doesn't always tell the truth. what did he mean by telling sue the other night that he loved cats, and that her cat was perfectly beautiful, and then when she went into the other room he slung the cat out of the window, clear over into the asparagus bed, and said get out you brute? we cannot be too careful about always telling the truth, and never doing anything wrong. tom and i talked about the circus all the next day, and we agreed we'd have a circus of our own, and travel all over the country, and make heaps of money. we said we wouldn't let any of the other boys belong to it, but we would do everything ourselves, except the elephants. so we began to practise in mr. mcginnis's barn every afternoon after school. i was the queen of the arena, and dressed up in one of sue's skirts, and won't she be mad when she finds that i cut the bottom off of it!--only i certainly meant to get her a new one with the very first money i made. i wore an old umbrella under the skirt, which made it stick out beautifully, and i know i should have looked splendid standing on mr. mcginnis's old horse, only he was so slippery that i couldn't stand on him without falling off and sticking all the umbrella ribs into me. tom and i were the madagascar brothers, and we were going to do everything that the patagonian brothers did. we practised standing on each other's head hours at a time, and i did it pretty well, only tom he slipped once when he was standing on my head, and sat down on it so hard that i don't much believe that my hair will ever grow any more. the barn floor was most too hard to practise on, so last saturday tom said we'd go into the parlor, where there was a soft carpet, and we'd put some pillows on the floor besides. all tom's folks had gone out, and there wasn't anybody in the house except the girl in the kitchen. so we went into the parlor, and put about a dozen pillows and a feather-bed on the floor. it was elegant fun turning somersaults backward from the top of the table; but i say it ought to be spelled summersets, though sue says the other way is right. we tried balancing things on our feet while we laid on our backs on the floor. tom balanced the musical box for ever so long before it fell; but i don't think it was hurt much, for nothing except two or three little wheels were smashed. and i balanced the water-pitcher, and i shouldn't have broken it if tom hadn't spoken to me at the wrong minute. [illustration: the trapeze performance.] we were getting tired, when i thought how nice it would be to do the trapeze performance on the chandeliers. there was one in the front parlor and one in the back parlor, and i meant to swing on one of them, and let go and catch the other. i swung beautifully on the front parlor chandelier, when, just as i was going to let go of it, down it came with an awful crash, and that parlor was just filled with broken glass, and the gas began to smell dreadfully. as it was about supper-time, and tom's folks were expected home, i thought i would say good-bye to tom, and not practise any more that day. so we shut the parlor doors, and i went home, wondering what would become of tom, and whether i had done altogether right in practising with him in his parlor. there was an awful smell of gas in the house that night, and when mr. mcginnis opened the parlor door he found what was the matter. he found the cat too. she was lying on the floor, just as dead as she could be. i'm going to see mr. mcginnis to-day and tell him i broke the chandelier. i suppose he will tell father, and then i shall wish that everybody had never been born; but i did break that chandelier, though i didn't mean to, and i've got to tell about it. mr. martin's leg. i had a dreadful time after that accident with mr. martin's eye. he wrote a letter to father and said that "the conduct of that atrocious young ruffian was such," and that he hoped he would never have a son like me. as soon as father said, "my son i want to see you up-stairs bring me my new rattan cane," i knew what was going to happen. i will draw some veils over the terrible scene, and will only say that for the next week i did not feel able to hold a pen unless i stood up all the time. last week i got a beautiful dog. father had gone away for a few days and i heard mother say that she wished she had a nice little dog to stay in the house and drive robbers away. the very next day a lovely dog that didn't belong to anybody came into our yard and i made a dog-house for him out of a barrel, and got some beefsteak out of the closet for him, and got a cat for him to chase, and made him comfortable. he is part bull-dog, and his ears and tail are gone and he hasn't but one eye and he's lame in one of his hind-legs and the hair has been scalded off part of him, and he's just lovely. if you saw him after a cat you'd say he was a perfect beauty. mother won't let me bring him into the house, and says she never saw such a horrid brute, but women haven't any taste about dogs anyway. his name is sitting bull, though most of the time when he isn't chasing cats he's lying down. he knows pretty near everything. some dogs know more than folks. mr. travers had a dog once that knew chinese. every time that dog heard a man speak chinese he would lie down and howl and then he would get up and bite the man. you might talk english or french or latin or german to him and he wouldn't pay any attention to it, but just say three words in chinese and he'd take a piece out of you. mr. travers says that once when he was a puppy a chinaman tried to catch him for a stew; so whenever he heard anybody speak chinese he remembered that time and went and bit the man to let him know that he didn't approve of the way chinamen treated puppies. the dog never made a mistake but once. a man came to the house who had lost his pilate and couldn't speak plain, and the dog thought he was speaking chinese and so he had his regular fit and bit the man worse than he had ever bit anybody before. sitting bull don't know chinese, but mr. travers says he's a "specialist in cats," which means that he knows the whole science of cats. the very first night i let him loose he chased a cat up the pear-tree and he sat under that tree and danced around it and howled all night. the neighbors next door threw most all their things at him but they couldn't discourage him. i had to tie him up after breakfast and let the cat get down and run away before i let him loose again, or he'd have barked all summer. the only trouble with him is that he can't see very well and keeps running against things. if he starts to run out of the gate he is just as likely to run head first into the fence, and when he chases a cat round a corner he will sometimes mistake a stick of wood, or the lawn-mower for the cat and try to shake it to death. this was the way he came to get me into trouble with mr. martin. he hadn't been at our house for so long (mr. martin i mean) that we all thought he never would come again. father sometimes said that his friend martin had been driven out of the house because my conduct was such and he expected i would separate him from all his friends. of course i was sorry that father felt bad about it, but if i was his age i would have friends that were made more substantial than mr. martin is. night before last i was out in the back yard with sitting bull looking for a stray cat that sometimes comes around the house after dark and steals the strawberries and takes the apples out of the cellar. at least i suppose it is this particular cat that steals the apples, for the cook says a cat does it and we haven't any private cat of our own. after a while i saw the cat coming along by the side of the fence, looking wicked enough to steal anything and to tell stories about it afterwards. i was sitting on the ground holding sitting bull's head in my lap and telling him that i did wish he'd take to rat-hunting like tom mcginnis's terrier, but no sooner had i seen the cat and whispered to sitting bull that she was in sight than he jumped up and went for her. he chased her along the fence into the front yard where she made a dive under the front piazza. sitting bull came round the corner of the house just flying, and i close after him. it happened that mr. martin was at that identicular moment going up the steps of the piazza, and sitting bull mistaking one of his legs for the cat jumped for it and had it in his teeth before i could say a word. when that dog once gets hold of a thing there is no use in reasoning with him, for he won't listen to anything. mr. martin howled and said, "take him off my gracious the dog's mad" and i said, "come here sir. good dog. leave him alone" but sitting bull hung on to the leg as if he was deaf and mr. martin hung on to the railing of the piazza and made twice as much noise as the dog. i didn't know whether i'd better run for the doctor or the police, but after shaking the leg for about a minute sitting bull gave it an awful pull and pulled it off just at the knee joint. when i saw the dog rushing round the yard with the leg in his mouth i ran into the house and told sue and begged her to cut a hole in the wall and hide me behind the plastering where the police couldn't find me. when she went down to help mr. martin she saw him just going out of the yard on a wheelbarrow with a man wheeling him on a broad grin. if he ever comes to this house again i'm going to run away. it turns out that his leg was made of cork and i suppose the rest of him is either cork or glass. some day he'll drop apart on our piazza then the whole blame will be put on me. our concert. there is one good thing about sue, if she is a girl: she is real charitable, and is all the time getting people to give money to missionaries and things. she collected mornahundred dollars from ever so many people last year, and sent it to a society, and her name was in all the papers as "miss susan brown," the young lady that gave a hundred dollars to a noble cause and may others go and do likewise. about a month ago she began to get up a concert for a noble object. i forget what the object was, for sue didn't make up her mind about it until a day or two before the concert; but whatever it was, it didn't get much money. sue was to sing in the concert, and mr. travers was to sing, and father was to read something, and the sunday-school was to sing, and the brass band was to play lots of things. mr. travers was real good about it, and attended to engaging the brass band, and getting the tickets printed. we've got a first-rate band. you just ought to hear it once. i'm going to join it some day, and play on the drum; that is, if they don't find out about the mistake i made with the music. when mr. travers went to see the leader of the band to settle what music was to be played at the concert he let me go with him. the man was awfully polite, and he showed mr. travers great stacks of music for him to select from. after a while he proposed to go and see a man somewheres who played in the band, and they left me to wait until they came back. i had nothing to do, so i looked at the music. the notes were all made with a pen and ink, and pretty bad they were. i should have been ashamed if i had made them. just to prove that i could have done it better than the man who did do it, i took a pen and ink and tried it. i made beautiful notes, and as a great many of the pieces of music weren't half full of notes, i just filled in the places where there weren't any notes. i don't know how long mr. travers and the leader of the band were gone, but i was so busy that i did not miss them, and when i heard them coming i sat up as quiet as possible, and never said anything about what i had done, because we never should praise ourselves or seem to be proud of our own work. now i solemnly say that i never meant to do any harm. all i meant to do was to improve the music that the man who wrote it had been too lazy to finish. why, in some of those pieces of music there were places three or four inches long without a single note, and you can't tell me that was right. but i sometimes think there is no use in trying to help people as i tried to help our brass band. people are never grateful, and they always manage to blame a boy, no matter how good he is. i shall try, however, not to give way to these feelings, but to keep on doing right no matter what happens. the next night we had the concert, or at any rate we tried to have it. the town-hall was full of people, and sue said it did seem hard that so much money as the people had paid to come to the concert should all have to go to charity when she really needed a new seal-skin coat. the performance was to begin with a song by sue, and the band was to play just like a piano while she was singing. the song was all about being so weary and longing so hard to die, and sue was singing it like anything, when all of a sudden the man with the big drum hit it a most awful bang, and nearly frightened everybody to death. people laughed out loud, and sue could hardly go on with her song. but she took a fresh start, and got along pretty well till the big drum broke out again, and the man hammered away at it till the leader went and took his drum-stick away from him. the people just howled and yelled, and sue burst out crying and went right off the stage and longed to die in real earnest. [illustration: there was the awfullest fight you ever saw.] when things got a little bit quiet, and the man who played the drum had made it up with the leader, the band began to play something on its own account. it began all right, but it didn't finish the way it was meant to finish. first one player and then another would blow a loud note in the wrong place, and the leader would hammer on his music-stand, and the people would laugh themselves 'most sick. after a while the band came to a place where the trombones seemed to get crazy, and the leader just jumped up and knocked the trombone-player down with a big horn that he snatched from another man. then somebody hit the leader with a cornet and knocked him into the big drum, and there was the awfullest fight you ever saw till somebody turned out the gas. there wasn't any more concert that night, and the people all got their money back, and now mr. travers and the leader of the band have offered a reward for "the person who maliciously altered the music"--that's what the notice says. but i wasn't malicious, and i do hope nobody will find out i did it, though i mean to tell father about it as soon as he gets over having his nose pretty near broke by trying to interfere between the trombone-player and the man with the french horn. our baby. mr. martin has gone away. he's gone to europe or hartford or some such place. anyway i hope we'll never see him again. the expressman says that part of him went in the stage and part of him was sent in a box by express, but i don't know whether it is true or not. i never could see the use of babies. we have one at our house that belongs to mother and she thinks everything of it. i can't see anything wonderful about it. all it can do is to cry and pull hair and kick. it hasn't half the sense of my dog, and it can't even chase a cat. mother and sue wouldn't have a dog in the house, but they are always going on about the baby and saying "ain't it perfectly sweet!" why, i wouldn't change sitting bull for a dozen babies, or at least i wouldn't change him if i had him. after the time he bit mr. martin's leg father said "that brute sha'n't stay here another day." i don't know what became of him, but the next morning he was gone and i have never seen him since. i have had great sorrows though people think i'm only a boy. the worst thing about a baby is that you're expected to take care of him and then you get scolded afterwards. folks say, "here, jimmy! just hold the baby a minute, that's a good boy," and then as soon as you have got it they say, "don't do that my goodness gracious the boy will kill the child hold it up straight you good-for-nothing little wretch." it is pretty hard to do your best and then be scolded for it, but that's the way boys are treated. perhaps after i'm dead folks will wish they had done differently. last saturday mother and sue went out to make calls and told me to stay home and take care of the baby. there was a base-ball match but what did they care? they didn't want to go to it and so it made no difference whether i went to it or not. they said they would be gone only a little while, and that if the baby waked up i was to play with it and keep it from crying and be sure you don't let it swallow any pins. of course i had to do it. the baby was sound asleep when they went out, so i left it just for a few minutes while i went to see if there was any pie in the pantry. if i was a woman i wouldn't be so dreadfully suspicious as to keep everything locked up. when i got back up-stairs again the baby was awake and was howling like he was full of pins; so i gave him the first thing that came handy to keep him quiet. it happened to be a bottle of french polish with a sponge in it on the end of a wire that sue uses to black her shoes, because girls are too lazy to use a regular blacking-brush. the baby stopped crying as soon as i gave him the bottle and i sat down to read. the next time i looked at him he'd got out the sponge and about half his face was jet-black. this was a nice fix, for i knew nothing could get the black off his face, and when mother came home she would say the baby was spoiled and i had done it. now i think an all black baby is ever so much more stylish than an all white baby, and when i saw the baby was part black i made up my mind that if i blacked it all over it would be worth more than it ever had been and perhaps mother would be ever so much pleased. so i hurried up and gave it a good coat of black. you should have seen how that baby shined! the polish dried just as soon as it was put on, and i had just time to get the baby dressed again when mother and sue came in. i wouldn't lower myself to repeat their unkind language. when you've been called a murdering little villain and an unnatural son it will wrinkle in your heart for ages. after what they said to me i didn't even seem to mind about father but went up-stairs with him almost as if i was going to church or something that wouldn't hurt much. the baby is beautiful and shiny, though the doctor says it will wear off in a few years. nobody shows any gratitude for all the trouble i took, and i can tell you it isn't easy to black a baby without getting it into his eyes and hair. i sometimes think that it is hardly worth while to live in this cold and unfeeling world. our snow man. i do love snow. there isn't anything except a bull-terrier that is as beautiful as snow. mr. travers says that seven hundred men once wrote a poem called "beautiful snow," and that even then, though they were all big strong men, they couldn't find words enough to tell how beautiful it was. there are some people who like snow, and some who don't. it's very curious, but that's the way it is about almost everything. there are the eskimos who live up north where there isn't anything but snow, and where there are no schools nor any errands, and they haven't anything to do but to go fishing and skating and hunting, and sliding down hill all day. well, the eskimos don't like it, for people who have been there and seen them say they are dreadfully dissatisfied. a nice set the eskimos must be! i wonder what would satisfy them. i don't suppose it's any use trying to find out, for father says there's no limit to the unreasonableness of some people. we ought always to be satisfied and contented with our condition and the things we have. i'm always contented when i have what i want, though of course nobody can expect a person to be contented when things don't satisfy him. sue is real contented, too, for she's got the greatest amount of new clothes, and she's going to be married very soon. i think it's about time she was, and most everybody else thinks so too, for i've heard them say so; and they've said so more than ever since we made the snow man. [illustration: we built the biggest snow man i ever heard of.] you see, it was the day before christmas, and there had been a beautiful snow-storm. all of us boys were sliding down hill, when somebody said, "let's make a snow man." everybody seemed to think the idea was a good one, and we made up our minds to build the biggest snow man that ever was, just for christmas. the snow was about a foot thick, and just hard enough to cut into slabs; so we got a shovel and went to work. we built the biggest snow man i ever heard of. we made him hollow, and tom mcginnis stood inside of him and helped build while the rest of us worked on the outside. just as fast as we got a slab of snow in the right place we poured water on it so that it would freeze right away. we made the outside of the man about three feet thick, and he was so tall that tom mcginnis had to keep climbing up inside of him to help build. tom came near getting into a dreadful scrape, for we forgot to leave a hole for him to get out of, and when the man was done, and frozen as hard as a rock, tom found that he was shut up as tight as if he was in prison. didn't he howl, though, and beg us to let him out! i told him that he would be very foolish not to stay in the man all night, for he would be as warm as the eskimos are in their snow huts, and there would be such fun when people couldn't find him anywhere. but tom wasn't satisfied; he began to talk some silly nonsense about wanting his supper. the idea of anybody talking about such a little thing as supper when they had such a chance to make a big stir as that. tom always was an obstinate sort of fellow, and he would insist upon coming out, so we got a hatchet and chopped a hole in the back of the man and let him out. the snow man was quite handsome, and we made him have a long beak, like a bird, so that people would be astonished when they saw him. it was that beak that made me think about the egyptian gods that had heads like hawks and other birds and animals, and must have frightened people dreadfully when they suddenly met them near graveyards or in lonesome roads. one of those egyptian gods was made of stone, and was about as high as the top of a house. he was called memnon, and every morning at sunrise he used to sing out with a loud voice, just as the steam-whistle at mr. thompson's mill blows every morning at sunrise to wake people up. the egyptians thought that memnon was something wonderful, but it has been found out, since the egyptians died, that a priest used to hide himself somewhere inside of memnon, and made all the noise. looking at the snow man and thinking about the egyptian gods, i thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to hide inside of him and say things whenever people went by. it would be a new way of celebrating christmas, too. they would be awfully astonished to hear a snow man talk. i might even make him sing a carol, and then he'd be a sort of christian memnon, and nobody would think i had anything to do with it. that evening when the moon got up--it was a beautiful moonlight night--i slipped out quietly and went up to the hill where the snow man was, and hid inside of him. i knew mr. travers and sue were out sleigh-riding, and they hadn't asked me to go, though there was lots of room, and i meant to say something to them when they drove by the snow man that would make sue wish she had been a little more considerate. presently i heard bells and looked out and saw a sleigh coming up the hill. i was sure it was mr. travers and sue; so i made ready for them. the sleigh came up the hill very slow, and when it was nearly opposite to me i said, in a solemn voice, "susan, you ought to have been married long ago." you see, i knew that would please mr. travers; and it was true, too. she gave a shriek, and said, "oh, what's that?" "we'll soon see," said a man's voice that didn't sound a bit like mr. travers's. "there's somebody round here that's spoiling for a thrashing." the man came right up to the snow man, and saw my legs through the hole, and got hold of one of them and began to pull. i didn't know it, but the boys had undermined the snow man on one side, and as soon as the man began to pull, over went the snow man and me right into the sleigh, and the woman screamed again, and the horse ran away and pitched us out, and-but i don't want to tell the rest of it, only father said that i must be taught not to insult respectable ladies like miss susan white, who is fifty years old, by telling them it is time they were married. art. our town has been very lively this winter. first we had two circuses, and then we had the small-pox, and now we've got a course of lectures. a course of lectures is six men, and you can go to sleep while they're talking, if you want to, and you'd better do it unless they are missionaries with real idols or a magic lantern. i always go to sleep before the lectures are through, but i heard a good deal of one of them that was all about art. art is almost as useful as history or arithmetic, and we ought all to learn it, so that we can make beautiful things and elevate our minds. art is done with mud in the first place. the art man takes a large chunk of mud and squeezes it until it is like a beautiful man or woman, or wild bull, and then he takes a marble gravestone and cuts it with a chisel until it is exactly like the piece of mud. if you want a solid photograph of yourself made out of marble, the art man covers your face with mud, and when it gets hard he takes it off, and the inside of it is just like a mould, so that he can fill it full of melted marble which will be an exact photograph of you as soon as it gets cool. this is what one of the men who belong to the course of lectures told us. he said he would have shown us exactly how to do art, and would have made a beautiful portrait of a friend of his, named vee nuss, right on the stage before our eyes, only he couldn't get the right kind of mud. i believed him then, but i don't believe him now. a man who will contrive to get an innocent boy into a terrible scrape isn't above telling what isn't true. he could have got mud if he'd wanted it, for there was mornamillion tons of it in the street, and it's my belief that he couldn't have made anything beautiful if he'd had mud a foot deep on the stage. as i said, i believed everything the man said, and when the lecture was over, and father said, "i do hope jimmy you've got some benefit from the lecture this time" and sue said, "a great deal of benefit that boy will ever get unless he gets it with a good big switch don't i wish i was his father o! i'd let him know," i made up my mind that i would do some art the very next day, and show people that i could get lots of benefit if i wanted to. i have spoken about our baby a good many times. it's no good to anybody, and i call it a failure. it's a year and three months old now, and it can't talk or walk, and as for reading or writing, you might as well expect it to play base-ball. i always knew how to read and write, and there must be something the matter with this baby, or it would know more. last monday mother and sue went out to make calls, and left me to take care of the baby. they had done that before, and the baby had got me into a scrape, so i didn't want to be exposed to its temptations; but the more i begged them not to leave me, the more they would do it, and mother said, "i know you'll stay and be a good boy while we go and make those horrid calls," and sue said, "i'd better or i'd get what i wouldn't like." after they'd gone i tried to think what i could do to please them, and make everybody around me better and happier. after a while i thought that it would be just the thing to do some art and make a marble photograph of the baby, for that would show everybody that i had got some benefit from the lectures, and the photograph of the baby would delight mother and sue. i took mother's fruit-basket and filled it with mud out of the back yard. it was nice thick mud, and it would stay in any shape that you squeezed it into, so that it was just the thing to do art with. i laid the baby on its back on the bed, and covered its face all over with the mud about two inches thick. a fellow who didn't know anything about art might have killed the baby, for if you cover a baby's mouth and nose with mud it can't breathe, which is very unhealthy, but i left its nose so it could breathe, and intended to put an extra piece of mud over that part of the mould after it was dry. of course the baby howled all it could, and it would have kicked dreadfully, only i fastened its arms and legs with a shawl-strap so that it couldn't do itself any harm. [illustration: the moment they saw the baby they said the most dreadful things.] the mud wasn't half dry when mother and sue and father came in, for he met them at the front gate. they all came up-stairs, and the moment they saw the baby they said the most dreadful things to me without waiting for me to explain. i did manage to explain a little through the closet door while father was looking for his rattan cane, but it didn't do the least good. i don't want to hear any more about art or to see any more lectures. there is nothing so ungrateful as people, and if i did do what wasn't just what people wanted, they might have remembered that i meant well, and only wanted to please them and elevate their minds. an awful scene. i have the same old, old story to tell. my conduct has been such again--at any rate, that's what father says; and i've had to go up-stairs with him, and i needn't explain what that means. it seems very hard, for i'd tried to do my very best, and i'd heard sue say, "that boy hasn't misbehaved for two days good gracious i wonder what can be the matter with him." there's a fatal litty about it, i'm sure. poor father! i must give him an awful lot of trouble, and i know he's had to get two new bamboo canes this winter just because i've done so wrong, though i never meant to do it. it happened on account of coasting. we've got a magnificent hill. the road runs straight down the middle of it, and all you have to do is to keep on the road. there's a fence on one side, and if you run into it something has got to break. john kruger, who is a stupid sort of a fellow, ran into it last week head-first, and smashed three pickets, and everybody said it was a mercy he hit it with his head, or he might have broken some of his bones and hurt himself. there isn't any fence on the other side, but if you run off the road on that side you'll go down the side of a hill that's steeper than the roof of the episcopal church, and about a mile long, with a brook full of stones down at the bottom. the other night mr. travers said-but i forgot to say that mr. martin is back again, and coming to our house worse than ever. he was there, and mr. travers and sue, all sitting in the parlor, where i was behaving, and trying to make things pleasant, when mr. travers said, "it's a bright moonlight night let's all go out and coast." sue said, "oh that would be lovely jimmy get your sled." i didn't encourage them, and i told father so, but he wouldn't admit that mr. travers or sue or mr. martin or anybody could do anything wrong. what i said was, "i don't want to go coasting. it's cold and i don't feel very well, and i think we ought all to go to bed early so we can wake up real sweet and good-tempered." but sue just said, "don't you preach jimmy if you're lazy just say so and mr. travers will take us out." then mr. martin he must put in and say, "perhaps the boy's afraid don't tease him he ought to be in bed anyhow." now i wasn't going to stand this, so i said, "come on. i wanted to go all the time, but i thought it would be best for old people to stay at home, and that's why i didn't encourage you." so i got out my double-ripper, and we all went out on the hill and started down. i sat in front to steer, and sue sat right behind me, and mr. travers sat behind her to hold her on, and mr. martin sat behind him. we went splendidly, only the dry snow flew so that i couldn't see anything, and that's why we got off the road and on to the side hill before i knew it. the hill was just one glare of ice, and the minute we struck the ice the sled started away like a hurricane. i had just time to hear mr. martin say, "boy mind what you're about or i'll get off," when she struck something--i don't know what--and everybody was pitched into the air, and began sliding on the ice without anything to help them, except me. i caught on a bare piece of rock, and stopped myself. i could see sue sitting up straight, and sliding like a streak of lightning, and crying, "jimmy father charles mr. martin o my help me." mr. travers was on his stomach, about a rod behind her, and gaining a little on her, and mr. martin was on his back, coming down head-first, and beating them both. all of a sudden he began to go to pieces. part of him would slide off one way, and then another part would try its luck by itself. i can tell you it was an awful and surreptitious sight. they all reached the bottom after a while, and when i saw they were not killed, i tried it myself, and landed all right. sue was sitting still, and mourning, and saying, "my goodness gracious i shall never be able to walk again my comb is broken and that boy isn't fit to live." mr. travers wasn't hurt very much, and he fixed himself all right with some pins i gave him, and his handkerchief; but his overcoat looked as if he'd stolen it from a scarecrow. when he had comforted sue a little (and i must say some people are perfectly sickening the way they go on), he and i collected mr. martin--all except his teeth--and helped put him together, only i got his leg on wrong side first, and then we helped him home. this was why father said that my conduct was such, and that his friend martin didn't seem to be able to come into his house without being insulted and injured by me. i never insulted him. it isn't my fault if he can't slide down a hill without coming apart. however, i've had my last suffering on account of him. the next time he comes apart where i am i shall not wait to be punished for it, but shall start straight for the north-pole, and if i discover it the british government will pay me mornamillion dollars. i'm able to sit down this morning, but my spirits are crushed, and i shall never enjoy life any more. screw-heads. i'm in an awful situation that a boy by the name of bellew got me into. he is one of the boys that writes stories and makes pictures for harper's young people, and i think people ought to know what kind of a boy he is. a little while ago he had a story in the young people about imitation screw-heads, and how he used to make them, and what fun he had pasting them on his aunt's bureau. i thought it was a very nice story, and i got some tin-foil and made a whole lot of screw-heads, and last saturday i thought i'd have some fun with them. father has a dreadfully ugly old chair in his study, that general washington brought over with him in the _mayflower_, and mr. travers says it is stiffer and uglier than any of the pilgrim fathers. but father thinks everything of that chair, and never lets anybody sit in it except the minister. i took a piece of soap, just as that bellew used to, and if his name is billy why don't he learn how to spell it that's what i'd like to know, and made what looked like a tremendous crack in the chair. then i pasted the screw-heads on the chair, and it looked exactly as if somebody had broken it and tried to mend it. [illustration] i couldn't help laughing all day when i thought how astonished father would be when he saw his chair all full of screws, and how he would laugh when he found out it was all a joke. as soon as he came home i asked him to please come into the study, and showed him the chair and said "father i cannot tell a lie i did it but i won't do it any more." [illustration] father looked as if he had seen some disgusting ghosts, and i was really frightened, so i hurried up and said, "it's all right father, it's only a joke look here they all come off," and rubbed off the screw-heads and the soap with my handkerchief, and expected to see him burst out laughing, just as bellew's aunt used to burst, but instead of laughing he said, "my son this trifling with sacred things must be stopped," with which remark he took off his slipper, and then-but i haven't the heart to say what he did. mr. travers has made some pictures about it, and perhaps people will understand what i have suffered. i think that boy bellew ought to be punished for getting people into scrapes. i'd just like to have him come out behind our barn with me for a few minutes. that is, i would, only i never expect to take any interest in anything any more. my heart is broken and a new chocolate cigar that was in my pocket during the awful scene. i've got an elegant wasps' nest with young wasps in it that will hatch out in the spring, and i'll change it for a bull-terrier or a shot-gun or a rattlesnake in a cage that rattles good with any boy that will send me one. my monkey. there never was such luck. i've always thought that i'd rather have a monkey than be a million heir. there is nothing that could be half so splendid as a real live monkey, but of course i knew that i never could have one until i should grow up and go to sea and bring home monkeys and parrots and shawls to mother just as sailors always do. but i've actually got a monkey and if you don't believe it just look at these pictures of him that mr. travers made for me. it was mr. travers that got the monkey for me. one day there came a woman with an organ and a monkey into our yard. she was an italian, but she could speak a sort of english and she said that the "murderin' spalpeen of a monkey was just wearing the life of her out." so says mr. travers "what will you take for him?" and says she "it's five dollars i'd be after selling him for, and may good-luck go wid ye!" [illustration] what did mr. travers do but give her the money and hand the monkey to me, saying, "here, jimmy! take him and be happy." wasn't i just happy though? jocko--that's the monkey's name--is the loveliest monkey that ever lived. i hadn't had him an hour when he got out of my arms and was on the supper-table before i could get him. the table was all set and bridget was just going to ring the bell, but the monkey didn't wait for her. [illustration] to see him eating the chicken salad was just wonderful. he finished the whole dish in about two minutes, and was washing it down with the oil out of the salad-bottle when i caught him. mother was awfully good about it and only said, "poor little beast he must be half starved susan how much he reminds me of your brother." a good mother is as good a thing as a boy deserves, no matter how good he is. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] the salad someway did not seem to agree with jocko for he was dreadfully sick that night. you should have seen how limp he was, just like a girl that has fainted away and her young man is trying to lift her up. mother doctored him. she gave him castor-oil as if he was her own son, and wrapped him up in a blanket and put a mustard plaster on his stomach and soaked the end of his tail in warm water. he was all right the next day and was real grateful. i know he was grateful because he showed it by trying to do good to others, at any rate to the cat. our cat wouldn't speak to him at first, but he coaxed her with milk, just as he had seen me do and finally caught her. it must have been dreadfully aggravoking to the cat, for instead of letting her have the milk he insisted that she was sick and must have medicine. so he took bridget's bottle of hair-oil and a big spoon and gave the cat such a dose. when i caught him and made him let the cat go there were about six table-spoonfuls of oil missing. mr. travers said it was a good thing for it would improve the cat's voice and make her yowl smoother, and that he had felt for a long time that she needed to be oiled. mother said that the monkey was cruel and it was a shame but i know that he meant to be kind. he knew the oil mother gave him had done him good, and he wanted to do the cat good. i know just how he felt, for i've been blamed many a time for trying to do good, and i can tell you it always hurt my feelings. [illustration] the monkey was in the kitchen while bridget was getting dinner yesterday and he watched her broil the steak as if he was meaning to learn to cook and help her in her work, he's that kind and thoughtful. the cat was out-doors, but two of her kittens were in the kitchen, and they were not old enough to be afraid of the monkey. when dinner was served bridget went up-stairs and by-and-by mother says "what's that dreadful smell sure's you're alive susan the baby has fallen into the fire." everybody jumped up and ran up-stairs, all but me, for i knew jocko was in the kitchen and i was afraid it was he that was burning. when i got into the kitchen there was that lovely monkey broiling one of the kittens on the gridiron just as he had seen bridget broil the steak. the kitten's fur was singeing and she was mewing, and the other kitten was sitting up on the floor licking her chops and enjoying it and jocko was on his hind-legs as solemn and busy as an owl. i snatched the gridiron away from him and took the kitten off before she was burned any except her fur, and when mother and susan came down-stairs they couldn't understand what it was that had been burning. this is all the monkey has done since i got him day before yesterday. father has been away for a week but is coming back in a few days, and won't he be delighted when he finds a monkey in the house? the end of my monkey. i haven't any monkey now, and i don't care what becomes of me. his loss was an awful blow, and i never expect to recover from it. i am a crushed boy, and when the grown folks find what their conduct has done to me, they will wish they had done differently. [illustration] it was on a tuesday that i got the monkey, and by thursday everybody began to treat him coldly. it began with my littlest sister. jocko took her doll away, and climbed up to the top of the door with it, where he sat and pulled it to pieces, and tried its clothes on, only they wouldn't fit him, while sister, who is nothing but a little girl, stood and howled as if she was being killed. this made mother begin to dislike the monkey, and she said that if his conduct was such, he couldn't stay in her house. i call this unkind, for the monkey was invited into the house, and i've been told we must bear with visitors. [illustration] a little while afterwards, while mother was talking to susan on the front piazza, she heard the sewing-machine up-stairs, and said, "well i never that cook has the impudence to be sewing on my machine without ever asking leave." so she ran up-stairs, and found that jocko was working the machine like mad. he'd taken sue's gown and father's black coat and a lot of stockings, and shoved them all under the needle, and was sewing them all together. mother boxed his ears and then she and sue sat down and worked all the morning trying to unsew the things with the scissors. they had to give it up after a while, and the things are sewed together yet, like a man and wife, which no man can put asunder. all this made my mother more cool towards the monkey than ever, and i heard her call him a nasty little beast. [illustration] the next day was sunday, and as sue was sitting in the hall waiting for mother to go to church with her, jocko gets up on her chair, and pulls the feathers out of her bonnet. he thought he was doing right, for he had seen the cook pulling the feathers off of the chickens, but sue called him dreadful names, and either she or that monkey would leave the house. [illustration] [illustration] father came home early monday, and seemed quite pleased with the monkey. he said it was an interesting study, and he told susan that he hoped that she would be contented with fewer beaux, now that there was a monkey constantly in the house. in a little while father caught jocko lathering himself with the mucilage brush, and with a kitchen knife all ready to shave himself. he just laughed at the monkey, and told me to take good care of him, and not let him hurt himself. of course i was dreadfully pleased to find that father liked jocko, and i knew it was because he was a man, and had more sense than girls. but i was only deceiving myself and leaning on a broken weed. that very evening when father went into his study after supper he found jocko on his desk. he had torn all his papers to pieces, except a splendid new map, and that he was covering with ink, and making believe that he was writing a president's message about the panama canal. father was just raging. he took jocko by the scruff of the neck, locked him in the closet, and sent him away by express the next morning to a man in the city, with orders to sell him. the expressman afterwards told mr. travers that the monkey pretty nearly killed everybody on the train, for he got hold of the signal-cord and pulled it, and the engineer thought it was the conductor, and stopped the train, and another train just behind it came within an inch of running into it and smashing it to pieces. jocko did the same thing three times before they found out what was the matter, and tied him up so that he couldn't reach the cord. oh, he was just beautiful! but i shall never see him again, and mr. travers says that it's all right, and that i'm monkey enough for one house. that's because sue has been saying things against the monkey to him; but never mind. first my dog went, and now my monkey has gone. it seems as if everything that is beautiful must disappear. very likely i shall go next, and when i am gone, let them find the dog and the monkey, and bury us together. [illustration] the old, old story. we've had a most awful time in our house. there have been ever so many robberies in town, and everybody has been almost afraid to go to bed. the robbers broke into old dr. smith's house one night. dr. smith is one of those doctors that don't give any medicine except cold water, and he heard the robbers, and came down-stairs in his nigown, with a big umbrella in his hand, and said, "if you don't leave this minute, i'll shoot you." and the robbers they said, "oh no! that umbrella isn't loaded" and they took him and tied his hands and feet, and put a mustard-plaster over his mouth, so that he couldn't yell, and then they filled the wash-tub with water, and made him sit down in it, and told him that now he'd know how it was himself, and went away and left him, and he nearly froze to death before morning. father wasn't a bit afraid of the robbers, but he said he'd fix something so that he would wake up if they got in the house. so he put a coal-scuttle full of coal about half-way up the stairs, and tied a string across the upper hall just at the head of the stairs. he said that if a robber tried to come up-stairs he would upset the coal-scuttle, and make a tremendous noise, and that if he did happen not to upset it, he would certainly fall over the string at the top of the stairs. he told us that if we heard the coal-scuttle go off in the night, sue and mother and i were to open the windows and scream, while he got up and shot the robber. the first night, after father had fixed everything nicely for the robbers, he went to bed, and then mother told him that she had forgotten to lock the back door. so father he said, "why can't women sometimes remember something," and he got up and started to go down-stairs in the dark. he forgot all about the string, and fell over it with an awful crash, and then began to fall down-stairs. when he got half-way down he met the coal-scuttle, and that went down the rest of the way with him, and you never in your life heard anything like the noise the two of them made. we opened our windows, and cried murder and fire and thieves, and some men that were going by rushed in and picked father up, and would have taken him off to jail, he was that dreadfully black, if i hadn't told them who he was. but this was not the awful time that i mentioned when i began to write, and if i don't begin to tell you about it, i sha'n't have any room left on my paper. mother gave a dinner-party last thursday. there were ten ladies and twelve gentlemen, and one of them was that dreadful mr. martin with the cork leg, and other improvements, as mr. travers calls them. mother told me not to let her see me in the dining-room, or she'd let me know; and i meant to mind, only i forgot, and went into the dining-room, just to look at the table, a few minutes before dinner. i was looking at the raw oysters, when jane--that's the girl that waits on the table--said, "run, master jimmy; here's your mother coming." now i hadn't time enough to run, so i just dived under the table, and thought i'd stay there for a minute or two, until mother went out of the room again. it wasn't only mother that came in, but the whole company, and they sat down to dinner without giving me any chance to get out. i tell you, it was a dreadful situation. i had only room enough to sit still, and nearly every time i moved i hit somebody's foot. once i tried to turn around, and while i was doing it i hit my head against the table so hard that i thought i had upset something, and was sure that people would know i was there. but fortunately everybody thought that somebody else had joggled, so i escaped for that time. it was awfully tiresome waiting for those people to get through dinner. it seemed as if they could never eat enough, and when they were not eating, they were all talking at once. it taught me a lesson against gluttony, and nobody will ever find me sitting for hours and hours at the dinner-table. finally i made up my mind that i must have some amusement, and as mr. martin's cork-leg was close by me, i thought i would have some fun with that. there was a big darning-needle in my pocket, that i kept there in case i should want to use it for anything. i happened to think that mr. martin couldn't feel anything that was done to his cork-leg, and that it would be great fun to drive the darning-needle into it, and leave the end sticking out, so that people who didn't know that his leg was cork would see it, and think that he was suffering dreadfully, only he didn't know it. so i got out the needle, and jammed it into his leg with both hands, so that it would go in good and deep. [illustration: wasn't there a circus in that dining-room!] mr. martin gave a yell that made my hair run cold, and sprang up, and nearly upset the table, and fell over his chair backward, and wasn't there a circus in that dining-room! i had made a mistake about the leg, and run the needle into his real one. i was dragged out from under the table, and-but i needn't say what happened to me after that. it was "the old, old story," as sue says when she sings a foolish song about getting up at five o'clock in the morning--as if she'd ever been awake at that time in her whole life! bee-hunting. the more i see of this world the hollower i find everybody. i don't mean that people haven't got their insides in them, but they are so dreadfully ungrateful. no matter how kind and thoughtful any one may be, they never give him any credit for it. they will pretend to love you and call you "dear jimmy what a fine manly boy come here and kiss me," and then half an hour afterwards they'll say "where's that little wretch let me just get hold of him o! i'll let him know." deceit and ingratitude are the monster vices of the age and they are rolling over our beloved land like the flood. (i got part of that elegant language from the temperance lecturer last week, but i improved it a good deal.) there is aunt eliza. the uncle that belonged to her died two years ago, and she's awfully rich. she comes to see us sometimes with harry--that's her boy, a little fellow six years old--and you ought to see how mother and sue wait on her and how pleasant father is when she's in the room. now she always said that she loved me like her own son. she'd say to father, "how i envy you that noble boy what a comfort he must be to you," and father would say "yes he has some charming qualities" and look as if he hadn't laid onto me with his cane that very morning and told me that my conduct was such. you'll hardly believe that just because i did the very best i could and saved her precious harry from an apple grave, aunt eliza says i'm a young cain and knows i'll come to the gallows. she came to see us last friday, and on saturday i was going bee-hunting. i read all about it in a book. you take an axe and go out-doors and follow a bee, and after a while the bee takes you to a hollow tree full of honey and you cut the tree down and carry the honey home in thirty pails and sell it for ever so much. i and tom mcginnis were going and aunt eliza says "o take harry with you the dear child would enjoy it so much." of course no fellow that's twelve years old wants a little chap like that tagging after him but mother spoke up and said that i'd be delighted to take harry, and so i couldn't help myself. we stopped in the wood-shed and borrowed father's axe and then we found a bee. the bee wouldn't fly on before us in a straight line but kept lighting on everything, and once he lit on tom's hand and stung him good. however we chased the bee lively and by-and-by he started for his tree and we ran after him. we had just got to the old dead apple-tree in the pasture when we lost the bee and we all agreed that his nest must be in the tree. it's an awfully big old tree, and it's all rotted away on one side so that it stands as if it was ready to fall over any minute. nothing would satisfy harry but to climb that tree. we told him he'd better let a bigger fellow do it but he wouldn't listen to reason. so we gave him a boost and he climbed up to where the tree forked and then he stood up and began to say something when he disappeared. we thought he had fallen out of the tree and we ran round to the other side to pick him up but he wasn't there. tom said it was witches but i knew he must be somewhere so i climbed up the tree and looked. he had slipped down into the hollow of the tree and was wedged in tight. i could just reach his hair but it was so short that i couldn't get a good hold so as to pull him out. wasn't he scared though! he howled and said "o take me out i shall die," and tom wanted to run for the doctor. i told harry to be patient and i'd get him out. so i slid down the tree and told tom that the only thing to do was to cut the tree down and then open it and take harry out. it was such a rotten tree i knew it would come down easy. so we took turns chopping, and the fellow who wasn't chopping kept encouraging harry by telling him that the tree was 'most ready to fall. after working an hour the tree began to stagger and presently down she came with an awful crush and burst into a million pieces. tom and i said hurray! and then we poked round in the dust till we found harry. he was all over red dust and was almost choked, but he was awfully mad. just because some of his ribs were broke--so the doctor said--he forget all tom and i had done for him. i shouldn't have minded that much, because you don't expect much from little boys, but i did think his mother would have been grateful when we brought him home and told her what we had done. then i found what all her professions were worth. she called father and told him that i and the other miscurrent had murdered her boy. tom was so frightened at the awful name she called him that he ran home, and father told me i could come right up-stairs with him. they couldn't have treated me worse if i'd let harry stay in the tree and starve to death. i almost wish i had done it. it does seem as if the more good a boy does the more the grown folks pitch into him. the moment sue is married to mr. travers i mean to go and live with him. he never scolds, and always says that susan's brother is as dear to him as his own, though he hasn't got any. prompt obedience. i haven't been able to write anything for some time. i don't mean that there has been anything the matter with my fingers so that i couldn't hold a pen, but i haven't had the heart to write of my troubles. besides, i have been locked up for a whole week in the spare bedroom on bread and water, and just a little hash or something like that, except when sue used to smuggle in cake and pie and such things, and i haven't had any penanink. i was going to write a novel while i was locked up by pricking my finger and writing in blood with a pin on my shirt; but you can't write hardly anything that way, and i don't believe all those stories of conspirators who wrote dreadful promises to do all sorts of things in their blood. before i could write two little words my finger stopped bleeding, and i wasn't going to keep on pricking myself every few minutes; besides, it won't do to use all your blood up that way. there was once a boy who cut himself awful in the leg with a knife, and he bled to death for five or six hours, and when he got through he wasn't any thicker than a newspaper, and rattled when his friends picked him up just like the morning paper does when father turns it inside out. mr. travers told me about him, and said this was a warning against bleeding to death. of course you'll say i must have been doing something dreadfully wrong, but i don't think i have; and even if i had, i'll leave it to anybody if aunt eliza isn't enough to provoke a whole company of saints. the truth is, i got into trouble this time just through obeying promptly as soon as i was spoken to. i'd like to know if that was anything wrong. oh, i'm not a bit sulky, and i am always ready to admit i've done wrong when i really have; but this time i tried to do my very best and obey my dear mother promptly, and the consequence was that i was shut up for a week, besides other things too painful to mention. this world is a fleeting show, as our minister says, and i sometimes feel that it isn't worth the price of admission. aunt eliza is one of those women that always know everything, and know that nobody else knows anything, particularly us men. she was visiting us, and finding fault with everybody, and constantly saying that men were a nuisance in a house and why didn't mother make father mend chairs and whitewash the ceiling and what do you let that great lazy boy waste all his time for? there was a little spot in the roof where it leaked when it rained, and aunt eliza said to father, "why don't you have energy enough to get up on the roof and see where that leak is i would if i was a man thank goodness i ain't." so father said, "you'd better do it yourself, eliza." and she said, "i will this very day." so after breakfast aunt eliza asked me to show her where the scuttle was. we always kept it open for fresh air, except when it rained, and she crawled up through it and got on the roof. just then mother called me, and said it was going to rain, and i must close the scuttle. i began to tell her that aunt eliza was on the roof, but she wouldn't listen, and said, "do as i tell you this instant without any words why can't you obey promptly?" so i obeyed as prompt as i could, and shut the scuttle and fastened it, and then went down-stairs, and looked out to see the shower come up. it was a tremendous shower, and it struck us in about ten minutes; and didn't it pour! the wind blew, and it lightened and thundered every minute, and the street looked just like a river. i got tired of looking at it after a while, and sat down to read, and in about an hour, when it was beginning to rain a little easier, mother came where i was, and said, "i wonder where sister eliza is do you know, jimmy?" and i said i supposed she was on the roof, for i left her there when i fastened the scuttle just before it began to rain. nothing was done to me until after they had got two men to bring aunt eliza down and wring the water out of her, and the doctor had come, and she had been put to bed, and the house was quiet again. by that time father had come home, and when he heard what had happened-but, there! it is over now, and let us say no more about it. aunt eliza is as well as ever, but nobody has said a word to me about prompt obedience since the thunder-shower. our ice-cream. after that trouble with aunt eliza--the time she stayed up on the roof and was rained on--i had no misfortunes for nearly a week. aunt eliza went home as soon as she was well dried, and father said that he was glad she was gone, for she talked so much all the time that he couldn't hear himself think, though i don't believe he ever did hear himself think. i tried it once. i sat down where it was real still, and thought just as regular and steady as i could; but i couldn't hear the least sound. i suppose our brains are so well oiled that they don't creak at all when we use them. however, mr. travers told me of a boy he knew when he was a boy. his name was ananias g. smith, and he would run round all day without any hat on, and his hair cut very short, and the sun kept beating on his head all day, and gradually his brains dried so that whenever he tried to think, they would rattle and creak like a wheelbarrow-wheel when it hasn't any grease on it. of course his parents felt dreadfully, for he couldn't go to school without disturbing everybody as soon as he began to think about his lessons, and he couldn't stay home and think without keeping the baby awake. as i was saying, there was pretty nearly a whole week that i kept out of trouble; but it didn't last. boys are born to fly upward like the sparks that trouble, and yesterday i was "up to mischief again," as sue said, though i never had the least idea of doing any mischief. how should an innocent boy, who might easily have been an orphan had things happened in that way, know all about cooking and chemistry and such, i should like to know. it was really sue's fault. nothing would do but she must give a party, and of course she must have ice-cream. now the ice-cream that our cake-shop man makes isn't good enough for her, so she got father to buy an ice-cream freezer, and said she would make the ice-cream herself. i was to help her, and she sent me to the store to order some salt. i asked her what she wanted of salt, and she said that you couldn't freeze ice-cream without plenty of salt, and that it was almost as necessary as ice. i went to the store and ordered the salt, and then had a game or two of ball with the boys, and didn't get home till late in the afternoon. there was sue freezing the ice-cream, and suffering dreadfully, so she said. she had to go and dress right away, and told me to keep turning the ice-cream freezer till it froze and don't run off and leave me to do everything again you good-for-nothing boy i wonder how you can do it. i turned that freezer for ever so long, but nothing would freeze; so i made up my mind that it wanted more salt. i didn't want to disturb anybody, so i quietly went into the kitchen and got the salt-cellar, and emptied it into the ice-cream. it began to freeze right away; but i tasted it, and it was awfully salt, so i got the jug of golden sirup and poured about a pint into the ice-cream, and when it was done it was a beautiful straw-color. [illustration: sue's ice-cream party.] but there was an awful scene when the party tried to eat that ice-cream. sue handed it round, and said to everybody, "this is my ice-cream, and you must be sure to like it." the first one she gave it to was dr. porter. he is dreadfully fond of ice-cream, and he smiled such a big smile, and said he was sure it was delightful, and took a whole spoonful. then he jumped up as if something had bit him, and went out of the door in two jumps, and we didn't see him again. then three more men tasted their ice-cream, and jumped up, and ran after the doctor, and two girls said, "oh my!" and held their handkerchiefs over their faces, and turned just as pale. and then everybody else put their ice-cream down on the table, and said thank you they guessed they wouldn't take any. the party was regularly spoiled, and when i tasted the ice-cream i didn't wonder. it was worse than the best kind of strong medicine. sue was in a dreadful state of mind, and when the party had gone home--all but one man, who lay under the apple-tree all night and groaned like he was dying, only we thought it was cats--she made me tell her all about the salt and the golden sirup. she wouldn't believe that i had tried to do my best, and didn't mean any harm. father took her part, and said i ought to eat some of the ice-cream, since i made it; but i said i'd rather go up-stairs with him. so i went. some of these days people will begin to understand that they are just wasting and throwing away a boy who always tries to do his best, and perhaps they'll be sorry when it is too late. my pig. i don't say that i didn't do wrong, but what i do say is that i meant to do right. but that don't make any difference. it never does. i try to do my very best, and then something happens, and i am blamed for it. when i think what a disappointing world this is, full of bamboo-canes and all sorts of switches, i feel ready to leave it. it was sue's fault in the beginning; that is, if it hadn't been for her it wouldn't have happened. one sunday she and i were sitting in the front parlor, and she was looking out of the window and watching for mr. travers; only she said she wasn't, and that she was just looking to see if it was going to rain, and solemnizing her thoughts. i had just asked her how old she was, and couldn't mr. travers have been her father if he had married mother, when she said, "dear me how tiresome that boy is do take a book and read for gracious sake." i said, "what book?" so she gets up and gives me the _observer_, and says, "there's a beautiful story about a good boy and a pig do read it and keep still if you know how and i hope it will do you some good." well, i read the story. it told all about a good boy whose name was james, and his father was poor, and so he kept a pig that cost him twenty-five cents, and when it grew up he sold it for thirty dollars, and he brought the money to his father and said, "here father! take this o how happy i am to help you when you're old and not good for much," and his father burst into tears, but i don't know what for. i wouldn't burst into tears much if anybody gave me thirty dollars; and said, "bless you my noble boy you and your sweet pig have saved me from a watery grave," or something like that. it was a real good story, and it made me feel like being likewise. so i resolved that i would get a little new pig for twenty-five cents, and keep it till it grew up, and then surprise father with twenty-nine dollars, and keep one for myself as a reward for my good conduct. only i made up my mind not to let anybody know about it till after the pig should be grown up, and then how the family would be delighted with my "thoughtful and generous act!" for that's what the paper said james's act was. the next day i went to farmer smith, and got him to give me a little pig for nothing, only i agreed to help him weed his garden all summer. it was a beautiful pig, about as big as our baby, only it was a deal prettier, and its tail was elegant. i wrapped it up in an old shawl, and watched my chance and got it up into my room, which is on the third story. then i took my trunk and emptied it, and bored some holes in it for air, and put the pig in it. i had the best fun that ever was, all that day and the next day, taking care of that dear little pig. i gave him one of my coats for a bed, and fed him on milk, and took him out of the trunk every little while for exercise. nobody goes into my room very often, except the girl to make the bed, and when she came i shut up the trunk, and she never suspected anything. i got a whole coal-scuttleful of the very best mud, and put it in the corner of the room for him to play in, and when i heard bridget coming, i meant to throw the bedquilt over it, so she wouldn't suspect anything. after i had him two days i heard mother say, "seems to me i hear very queer noises every now and then up-stairs." i knew what the matter was, but i never said anything, and i felt so happy when i thought what a good boy i was to raise a pig for my dear father. bridget went up to my room about eight o'clock one evening, just before i was going to bed, to take up my clean clothes. we were all sitting in the dining-room, when we heard her holler as if she was being murdered. we all ran out to see what was the matter, and were half-way up the stairs when the pig came down and upset the whole family, and piled them up on the top of himself at the foot of the stairs, and before we got up bridget came down and fell over us, and said she had just opened the young masther's thrunk and out jumps the ould satan himself and she must see the priest or she would be a dead woman. you wouldn't believe that, though i told them that i was raising the pig to sell it and give the money to father, they all said that they had never heard of such an abandoned and peremptory boy, and father said, "come up-stairs with me and i'll see if i can't teach you that this house isn't a pig-pen." i don't know what became of the pig, for he broke the parlor window and ran away, and nobody ever heard of him again. i'd like to see that boy james. i don't care how big he is. i'd show him that he can't go on setting good examples to innocent boys without suffering as he deserves to suffer. going to be a pirate. i don't know if you are acquainted with tom mcginnis. everybody knows his father, for he's been in congress, though he is a poor man, and sells hay and potatoes, and i heard father say that mr. mcginnis is the most remarkable man in the country. well, tom is mr. mcginnis's boy, and he's about my age, and thinks he's tremendously smart; and i used to think so too, but now i don't think quite so much of him. he and i went away to be pirates the other day, and i found out that he will never do for a pirate. you see, we had both got into difficulties. it wasn't my fault, i am sure, but it's such a painful subject that i won't describe it. i will merely say that after it was all over, i went to see tom to tell him that it was no use to put shingles under your coat, for how is that going to do your legs any good, and i tried it because tom advised me to. i found that he had just had a painful scene with his father on account of apples; and i must say it served him right, for he had no business to touch them without permission. so i said, "look here, tom, what's the use of our staying at home and being laid onto with switches and our best actions misunderstood and our noblest and holiest emotions held up to ridicule?" that's what i heard a young man say to sue one day, but it was so beautiful that i said it to tom myself. "oh, go 'way," said tom. "that's what i say," said i. "let's go away and be pirates. there's a brook that runs through deacon sammis's woods, and it stands to reason that it must run into the spanish main, where all the pirates are. let's run away, and chop down a tree, and make a canoe, and sail down the brook till we get to the spanish main, and then we can capture a schooner, and be regular pirates." "hurrah!" says tom. "we'll do it. let's run away to-night. i'll take father's hatchet, and the carving-knife, and some provisions, and meet you back of our barn at ten o'clock." "i'll be there," said i. "only, if we're going to be pirates, let's be strictly honest. don't take anything belonging to your father. i've got a hatchet, and a silver knife with my name on it, and i'll save my supper and take it with me." so that night i watched my chance, and dropped my supper into my handkerchief, and stuffed it into my pocket. when ten o'clock came, i tied up my clothes in a bundle, and took my hatchet and the silver knife and some matches, and slipped out the back door, and met tom. he had nothing with him but his supper and a backgammon board and a bag of marbles. we went straight for the woods, and after we'd selected a big tree to cut down, we ate our supper. just then the moon went under a cloud, and it grew awfully dark. we couldn't see very well how to chop the tree, and after tom had cut his fingers, we put off cutting down the tree till morning, and resolved to build a fire. we got a lot of fire-wood, but i dropped the matches, and when we found them again they were so damp that they wouldn't light. all at once the wind began to blow, and made a dreadful moaning in the woods. tom said it was bears, and that though he wanted to be a pirate, he hadn't calculated on having any bears. then he said it was cold, and so it was, but i told him that it would be warm enough when we got to the spanish main, and that pirates ought not to mind a little cold. pretty soon it began to rain, and then tom began to cry. it just poured down, and the way our teeth chattered was terrible. by-and-by tom jumped up, and said he wasn't going to be eaten up by bears and get an awful cold, and he started on a run for home. of course i wasn't going to be a pirate all alone, for there wouldn't be any fun in that, so i started after him. he must have been dreadfully frightened, for he ran as fast as he could, and as i was in a hurry, i tried to catch up with him. if he hadn't tripped over a root, and i hadn't tripped over him, i don't believe i could have caught him. when i fell on him, you ought to have heard him yell. he thought i was a bear, but any sensible pirate would have known i wasn't. tom left me at his front gate, and said he had made up his mind he wouldn't be a pirate, and that it would be a great deal more fun to be a plumber and melt lead. i went home, and as the house was locked up, i had to ring the front-door bell. father came to the door himself, and when he saw me, he said, "jimmy, what in the world does this mean?" so i told him that tom and me had started for the spanish main to be pirates, but tom had changed his mind, and that i thought i'd change mine too. father had me put to bed, and hot bottles and things put in the bed with me, and before i went to sleep, he came and said, "good-night, jimmy. we'll try and have more fun at home, so that there won't be any necessity of your being a pirate." and i said, "dear father, i'd a good deal rather stay with you, and i'll never be a pirate without your permission." this is why i say that tom mcginnis will never make a good pirate. he's too much afraid of getting wet. rats and mice. it's queer that girls are so dreadfully afraid of rats and mice. men are never afraid of them, and i shouldn't mind if there were mornamillion mice in my bedroom every night. mr. travers told sue and me a terrible story one day about a woman that was walking through a lonely field, when she suddenly saw a field-mouse right in front of her. she was a brave woman; so after she had said, "oh my! save me, somebody!" she determined to save herself if she could, for there was nobody within miles of her. there was a tree not very far off, and she had just time to climb up the tree and seat herself in the branches, when the mouse reached its foot. there that animal stayed for six days and nights, squeaking in a way that made the woman's blood run cold, and waiting for her to come down. on the seventh day, when she was nearly exhausted, a man with a gun came along, and shot the mouse, and saved her life. i don't believe this story, and i told mr. travers so; for a woman couldn't climb a tree, and even if she could, what would hinder the mouse from climbing after her? sue has a new young man, who comes every monday and wednesday night. one day he said, "jimmy, if you'll get me a lock of your sister's hair, i'll give you a nice dog." i told him he was awfully kind, but i didn't think it would be honest for me to take sue's best hair, but that i'd try to get him some of her every-day hair. and he said, "what on earth do you mean, jimmy?" and i said that sue had got some new back hair a little while ago, for i was with her when she bought it, and i knew she wouldn't like me to take any of that. so he said it was no matter, and he'd give me the dog anyway. i told sue afterwards all about it, just to show her how honest i was, and instead of telling me i was a good boy, she said, "oh you little torment g'way and never let me see you again," and threw herself down on the sofa and howled dreadfully, and mother came and said, "jimmy, if you want to kill your dear sister, you can just keep on doing as you do." such is the gratitude of grown-up folks. mr. withers--that's the new young man--brought the dog, as he said he would. he's a beautiful scotch terrier, and he said he would kill rats like anything, and was two years old, and had had the distemper; that is, mr. withers said the dog would kill rats, and of course mr. withers himself never had the distemper. of course i wanted to see the dog kill rats, so i took him to a rat-hole in the kitchen, but he barked at it so loud that no rat would think of coming out. if you want to catch rats, you mustn't begin by barking and scratching at rat-holes, but you must sit down and kind of wink with one eye and lay for them, just as cats do. i told mr. withers that the dog couldn't catch any rats, and he said he would bring me some in a box, and i could let them out, and the dog would kill every single one of them. the next evening sue sent me down to the milliner's to bring her new bonnet home, and don't you be long about it either you idle worthless boy. well, i went to the milliner's shop, but the bonnet wasn't done yet; and as i passed mr. withers's office, he said, "come here, jimmy; i've got those rats for you." he gave me a wooden box like a tea-chest, and told me there were a dozen rats in it, and i'd better have the dog kill them at once, or else they'd gnaw out before morning. when i got home, sue met me at the door, and said, "give me that bandbox this instant you've been mornanour about it." i tried to tell her that it wasn't her box; but she wouldn't listen, and just snatched it and went into the parlor, where there were three other young ladies who had come to see her, and slammed the door; but the dog slipped in with her. in about a minute i heard the most awful yells that anybody ever heard. it sounded as if all the furniture in the parlor was being smashed into kindling wood, and the dog kept barking like mad. the next minute a girl came flying out of the front window, and another girl jumped right on her before she had time to get out of the way, and they never stopped crying, "help murder let me out oh my!" [illustration: sue had opened the box.] i knew, of course, that sue had opened the box and let the rats out, and though i wanted ever so much to know if the dog had killed them all, i thought she would like it better if i went back to the milliner's and waited a few hours for the bonnet. i brought it home about nine o'clock; but sue had gone to bed, and the servant had just swept up the parlor, and piled the pieces of furniture on the piazza. father won't be home till next week, and perhaps by that time sue will get over it. i wish i did know if the dog killed all those rats, and how long it took him. hunting the rhinoceros. we ought always to be useful, and do good to everybody. i used to think that we ought always to improve our minds, and i think so some now, though i have got into dreadful difficulties all through improving my mind. but i am not going to be discouraged. i tried to be useful the other day, and do good to the heathen in distant lands, and you wouldn't believe what trouble it made. there are some people who would never do good again if they had got into the trouble that i got into; but the proverb says that if at first you don't succeed, cry, cry again; and there was lots of crying, i can tell you, over our rhinoceros, that we thought was going to do so much good. it all happened because aunt eliza was staying at our house. she had a sunday-school one afternoon, and tom mcginnis and i were the scholars, and she told us about a boy that got up a panorama about the _pilgrim's progress_ all by himself, and let people see it for ten cents apiece, and made ten dollars, and sent it to the missionaries, and they took it and educated mornahundred little heathens with it, and how nice it would be if you dear boys would go and do likewise and now we'll sing "hold the fort." well, tom and i thought about it, and we said we'd get up a menagerie, and we'd take turns playing animals, and we'd let folks see it for ten cents apiece, and make a lot of money, and do ever so much good. we got a book full of pictures of animals, and we made skins out of cloth to go all over us, so that we'd look just like animals when we had them on. we had a lion's and a tiger's and a bear's and a rhinoceros's skin, besides a whole lot of others. as fast as we got the skins made, we hung them up in a corner of the barn where nobody would see them. the way we made them was to show the pictures to mother and to aunt eliza, and they did the cutting out and the sewing, and sue she painted the stripes on the tiger, and the fancy touches on the other animals. our rhinoceros was the best animal we had. the rhinoceros is a lovely animal when he's alive. he is almost as big as an elephant, and he has a skin that is so thick that you can't shoot a bullet through it unless you hit it in a place that is a little softer than the other places. he has a horn on the end of his nose, and he can toss a tiger with it till the tiger feels sick, and says he won't play any more. the rhinoceros lives in africa, and he would toss 'most all the natives if it wasn't that they fasten an india-rubber ball on the end of his horn, so that when he tries to toss anybody, the horn doesn't hurt, and after a while the rhinoceros gets discouraged, and says, "oh, well, what's the good anyhow?" and goes away into the forest. at least this is what mr. travers says, but i don't believe it; for the rhinoceros wouldn't stand still and let the natives put an india-rubber ball on his horn, and they wouldn't want to waste india-rubber balls that way when they could play lawn-tennis with them. last saturday afternoon we had our first grand consolidated exhibition of the greatest menagerie on earth. we had two rows of chairs in the back yard, and all our folks and all tom's folks came, and we took in a dollar and sixty cents at the door, which was the back gate. i was a bear, first of all, and growled so natural that everybody said it was really frightful. then it was tom's turn to be an animal, and he was to be the raging rhinoceros of central africa. i helped dress him in the barn, and when he was dressed he looked beautiful. the rhinoceros's skin went all over him, and was tied together so that he couldn't get out of it without help. his horn was made of wood painted white, and his eyes were two agates. of course he couldn't see through them, but they looked natural, and as i was to lead him, he didn't need to see. [illustration: then he fell into the hot-bed, and broke all the glass.] i had just got him outside the barn, and had begun to say, "ladies and gentlemen, this is the raging rhinoceros," when he gave the most awful yell you ever heard, and got up on his hind-legs, and began to rush around as if he was crazy. he rushed against aunt eliza, and upset her all over the mcginnis girls, and then he banged up against the water-barrel, and upset that, and then he fell into the hot-bed, and broke all the glass. you never saw such an awful sight. the rhinoceros kept yelling all the time, only nobody could understand what he said, and pulling at his head with his fore-paws, and jumping up and down, and smashing everything in his way, and i went after him just as if i was a central african hunting a rhinoceros. i was almost frightened, and as for the folks, they ran into the house, all except aunt eliza, who had to be carried in. i kept as close behind the rhinoceros as i could, begging him to be quiet, and tell me what was the matter. after a while he lay down on the ground, and i cut the strings of his skin, so that he could get his head out and talk. he said he was 'most dead. the wasps had built a nest in one of his hind-legs as it was hanging in the barn, and they had stung him until they got tired. he said he'd never have anything more to do with the menagerie, and went home with his mother, and my mother said i must give him all the money, because he had suffered so much. but, as i said, i won't be discouraged, and will try to do good, and be useful to others the next time i see a fair chance. down cellar. we have had a dreadful time at our house, and i have done very wrong. oh, i always admit it when i've done wrong. there's nothing meaner than to pretend that you haven't done wrong when everybody knows you have. i didn't mean anything by it, though, and sue ought to have stood by me, when i did it all on her account, and just because i pitied her, if she was my own sister, and it was more her fault, i really think, than it was mine. mr. withers is sue's new young man, as i have told you already. he comes to see her every monday, wednesday, and friday evening, and mr. travers comes all the other evenings, and mr. martin is liable to come any time, and generally does--that is, if he doesn't have the rheumatism. though he hasn't but one real leg, he has twice as much rheumatism as father, with all his legs, and there is something very queer about it; and if i was he, i'd get a leg of something better than cork, and perhaps he'd have less pain in it. it all happened last tuesday night. just as it was getting dark, and sue was expecting mr. travers every minute, who should come in but mr. martin! now mr. martin is such an old acquaintance, and father thinks so much of him, that sue had to ask him in, though she didn't want him to meet mr. travers. so when she heard somebody open the front gate, she said, "oh, mr. martin i'm so thirsty and the servant has gone out, and you know just where the milk is for you went down cellar to get some the last time you were here do you think you would mind getting some for me?" mr. martin had often gone down cellar to help himself to milk, and i don't see what makes him so fond of it, so he said, "certainly with great pleasure," and started down the cellar stairs. it wasn't mr. travers, but mr. withers, who had come on the wrong night. he had not much more than got into the parlor when sue came rushing out to me, for i was swinging in the hammock on the front piazza, and said, "my goodness gracious jimmy what shall i do here's mr. withers and mr. travers will be here in a few minutes and there's mr. martin down cellar and i feel as if i should fly what shall i do?" i was real sorry for her, and thought i'd help her, for girls are not like us. they never know what to do when they are in a scrape, and they are full of absence of mind when they ought to have lots of presence of mind. so i said: "i'll fix it for you, sue. just leave it all to me. you stay here and meet mr. travers, who is just coming around the corner, and i'll manage mr. withers." sue said, "you darling little fellow there don't muss my hair;" and i went in, and said to mr. withers, in an awfully mysterious way, "mr. withers, i hear a noise in the cellar. don't tell sue, for she's dreadfully nervous. won't you go down and see what it is?" of course i knew it was mr. martin who was making the noise, though i didn't say so. "oh, it's nothing but rats, jimmy," said he, "or else the cat, or maybe it's the cook." "no, it isn't," said i. "if i was you, i'd go and see into it. sue thinks you're awfully brave." well, after a little more talk, mr. withers said he'd go, and i showed him the cellar-door, and got him started down-stairs, and then i locked the door, and went back to the hammock, and sue and mr. travers they sat in the front parlor. pretty soon i heard a heavy crash down cellar; as if something heavy had dropped, and then there was such a yelling and howling, just as if the cellar was full of murderers. mr. travers jumped up, and was starting for the cellar, when sue fainted away, and hung tight to him, and wouldn't let him go. i stayed in the hammock, and wouldn't have left it if father hadn't come down-stairs, but when i saw him going down cellar, i went after him to see what could possibly be the matter. [illustration: they thought they were both burglars.] father had a candle in one hand and a big club in another. you ought to have been there to see mr. martin and mr. withers. one of them had run against the other in the dark, and they thought they were both burglars. so they got hold of each other, and fell over the milk-pans and upset the soap-barrel, and then rolled round the cellar floor, holding on to each other, and yelling help murder thieves, and when we found them, they were both in the ash-bin, and the ashes were choking them. father would have pounded them with the club if i hadn't told him who they were. he was awfully astonished, and though he wouldn't say anything to hurt mr. martin's feelings, he didn't seem to care much for mine or mr. withers's, and when mr. travers finally came down, father told him that he was a nice young man, and that the whole house might have been murdered by burglars while he was enjoying himself in the front parlor. mr. martin went home after he got a little of the milk and soap and ashes and things off of him, but he was too angry to speak. mr. withers said he would never enter the house again, and mr. travers didn't even wait to speak to sue, he was in such a rage with mr. withers. after they were all gone, sue told father that it was all my fault, and father said he would attend to my case in the morning: only, when the morning came, he told me not to do it again, and that was all. i admit that i did do wrong, but i didn't mean it, and my only desire was to help my dear sister. you won't catch me helping her again very soon. our baby again. after this, don't say anything more to me about babies. there's nothing more spiteful and militious than a baby. our baby got me into an awful scrape once--the time i blacked it. but i don't blame it so much that time, because, after all, it was partly my fault; but now it has gone and done one of the meanest things a baby ever did, and came very near ruining me. it has been a long time since mother and sue said they would never trust me to take care of the baby again, but the other day they wanted awfully to go to a funeral. it was a funeral of one of their best friends, and there was to be lots of flowers, and they expected to see lots of people, and they said they would try me once more. they were going to be gone about two hours, and i was to take care of the baby till they came home again. of course i said i would do my best, and so i did; only when a boy does try to do his best, he is sure to get himself into trouble. how many a time and oft have i found this to be true! ah! this is indeed a hard and hollow world. the last thing sue said when she went out of the door was, "now be a good boy if you play any of your tricks i'll let you know." i wish mr. travers would marry her, and take her to china. i don't believe in sisters, anyway. they hadn't been gone ten minutes when the baby woke up and cried, and i knew it did it on purpose. now i had once read in an old magazine that if you put molasses on a baby's fingers, and give it a feather to play with, it will try to pick that feather off, and amuse itself, and keep quiet for ever so long. i resolved to try it; so i went straight down-stairs and brought up the big molasses jug out of the cellar. then i made a little hole in one of mother's pillows, and pulled out a good handful of feathers. the baby stopped crying as soon as it saw what i was at, and so led me on, just on purpose to get me into trouble. well, i put a little molasses on the baby's hands, and put the feathers in its lap, and told it to be good and play real pretty. the baby began to play with the feathers, just as the magazine said it would, so i thought i would let it enjoy itself while i went up to my room to read a little while. that baby never made a sound for ever so long, and i was thinking how pleased mother and sue would be to find out a new plan for keeping it quiet. i just let it enjoy itself till about ten minutes before the time when they were to get back from the funeral, and then i went down to mother's room to look after the "little innocent," as sue calls it. much innocence there is about that baby! i never saw such a awful spectacle. the baby had got hold of the molasses jug, which held mornagallon, and had upset it and rolled all over in it. the feathers had stuck to it so close that you couldn't hardly see its face, and its head looked just like a chicken's head. you wouldn't believe how that molasses had spread over the carpet. it seemed as if about half the room was covered with it. and there sat that wretched "little innocent" laughing to think how i'd catch it when the folks came home. now wasn't it my duty to wash that baby, and get the feathers and molasses off it? any sensible person would say that it was. i tried to wash it in the wash-basin, but the feathers kept sticking on again as fast as i got them off. so i took it to the bath-tub and turned the water on, and held the baby right under the stream. the feathers were gradually getting rinsed away, and the molasses was coming off beautifully, when something happened. the water made a good deal of noise, and i was standing with my back to the bath-room door, so that i did not hear anybody come in. the first thing i knew sue snatched the baby away, and gave me such a box over the ear. then she screamed out, "ma! come here this wicked boy is drowning the baby o you little wretch won't you catch it for this." mother came running up-stairs, and they carried the baby into mother's room to dry it. you should have heard what they said when sue slipped and sat down in the middle of the molasses, and cried out that her best dress was ruined, and mother saw what a state the carpet was in! i wouldn't repeat their language for worlds. it was personal, that's what it was, and i've been told fifty times never to make personal remarks. i should not have condescended to notice it if mother hadn't begun to cry; and of course i went and said i was awfully sorry, and that i meant it all for the best, and wouldn't have hurt the baby for anything, and begged her to forgive me and not cry any more. when father came home they told him all about it. i knew very well they would, and i just lined myself with shingles so as to be good and ready. but he only said, "my son, i have decided to try milder measures with you. i think you are punished enough when you reflect that you have made your mother cry." that was all, and i tell you i'd rather a hundred times have had him say, "my son, come up-stairs with me." and now if you don't admit that nothing could be meaner than the way that baby acted, i shall really be surprised and shocked. studying wasps. we had a lecture at our place the other day, because our people wanted to get even with the people of the next town, who had had a returned missionary with a whole lot of idols the week before. the lecture was all about wasps and beetles and such, and the lecturer had a magic lantern and a microscope, and everything that was adapted to improve and vitrify the infant mind, as our minister said when he introduced him. i believe the lecturer was a wicked, bad man, who came to our place on purpose to get me into trouble. else why did he urge the boys to study wasps, and tell us how to collect wasps' nests without getting stung? the grown-up people thought it was all right, however, and mr. travers said to me, "listen to what the gentleman says, jimmy, and improve your mind with wasps." well, i thought i would do as i was told, especially as i knew of a tremendous big wasps' nest under the eaves of our barn. i got a ladder and a lantern the very night after the lecture, and prepared to study wasps. the lecturer said that the way to do was to wait till the wasps go to bed, and then to creep up to their nest with a piece of thin paper all covered with wet mucilage, and to clap it right over the door of the nest. of course the wasps can't get out when they wake up in the morning, and you can take the nest and hang it up in your room; and after two or three days, when you open the nest and let the wasps out, and feed them with powdered sugar, they'll be so tame and grateful that they'll never think of stinging you, and you can study them all day long, and learn lots of useful lessons. now is it probable that any real good man would put a boy up to any such nonsense as this? it's my belief that the lecturer was hired by somebody to come and entice all our boys to get themselves stung. as i was saying, i got a ladder and a lantern, and a piece of paper covered with mucilage, and after dark i climbed up to the wasps' nest, and stopped up the door, and then brought the nest down in my hand. i was going to carry it up to my room, but just then mother called me; so i put the nest under the seat of our carriage, and went into the house, where i was put to bed for having taken the lantern out to the barn; and the next morning i forgot all about the nest. i forgot it because i was invited to go on a picnic with mr. travers and my sister sue and a whole lot of people, and any fellow would have forgot it if he had been in my place. mr. travers borrowed father's carriage, and he and sue were to sit on the back seat, and mr. travers's aunt, who is pretty old and cross, was to sit on the front seat with dr. jones, the new minister, and i was to sit with the driver. we all started about nine o'clock, and a big basket of provisions was crowded into the carriage between everybody's feet. we hadn't gone mornamile when mr. travers cries out: "my good gracious! sue, i've run an awful pin into my leg. why can't you girls be more careful about pins?" sue replied that she hadn't any pins where they could run into anybody, and was going to say something more, when she screamed as if she was killed, and began to jump up and down and shake herself. just then dr. jones jumped about two feet straight into the air, and said, "oh my!" and miss travers took to screaming, "fire! murder! help!" and slapping herself in a way that was quite awful. i began to think they were all going crazy, when all of a sudden i remembered the wasps' nest. somehow the wasps had got out of the nest, and were exploring all over the carriage. the driver stopped the horses to see what was the matter, and turned pale with fright when he saw dr. jones catch the basket of provisions and throw it out of the carriage, and then jump straight into it. then mr. travers and his aunt and sue all came flying out together, and were all mixed up with dr. jones and the provisions on the side of the road. they didn't stop long, however, for the wasps were looking for them; so they got up and rushed for the river, and went into it as if they were going to drown themselves--only it wasn't more than two feet deep. george--he's the driver--was beginning to ask, "is thishyer some swimmin' match that's goin' on?" when a wasp hit him on the neck, and another hit me on the cheek. we left that carriage in a hurry, and i never stopped till i got to my room and rolled myself up in the bedclothes. all the wasps followed me, so that mr. travers and sue and the rest of them were left in peace, and might have gone to the picnic, only they felt as if they must come home for arnica, and, besides, the horses had run away, though they were caught afterwards, and didn't break anything. this was all because that lecturer advised me to study wasps. i followed his directions, and it wasn't my fault that the wasps began to study mr. travers and his aunt, and sue and dr. jones, and me and george. but father, when he was told about it, said that my "conduct was such," and the only thing that saved me was that my legs were stung all over, and father said he didn't have the heart to do any more to them with a switch. a terrible mistake. i have been in the back bedroom up-stairs all the afternoon, and i am expecting father every minute. it was just after one o'clock when he told me to come up-stairs with him, and just then mr. thompson came to get him to go down town with him, and father said i'd have to excuse him for a little while and don't you go out of that room till i come back. so i excused him, and he hasn't come back yet; but i've opened one of the pillows and stuffed my clothes full of feathers, and i don't care much how soon he comes back now. it's an awful feeling to be waiting up-stairs for your father, and to know that you have done wrong, though you really didn't mean to do so much wrong as you have done. i am willing to own that nobody ought to take anybody's clothes when he's in swimming, but anyhow they began it first, and i thought just as much as could be that the clothes were theirs. the real boys that are to blame are joe wilson and amzi willetts. a week ago saturday tom mcginnis and i went in swimming down at the island. it's a beautiful place. the island is all full of bushes, and on one side the water is deep, where the big boys go in, and on the other it is shallow, where we fellows that can't swim very much where the water is more than two feet deep go in. while tom and i were swimming, joe and amzi came and stole our clothes, and put them in their boat, and carried them clear across the deep part of the river. we saw them do it, and we had an awful time to get the clothes back, and i think it was just as mean. tom and i said we'd get even with them, and i know it was wrong, because it was a revengeful feeling, but anyhow we said we'd do it; and i don't think revenge is so very bad when you don't hurt a fellow, and wouldn't hurt him for anything, and just want to play him a trick that is pretty nearly almost quite innocent. but i don't say we did right, and when i've done wrong i'm always ready to say so. well, tom and i watched, and last saturday we saw joe and amzi go down to the island, and go in swimming on the shallow side; so we waded across and sneaked down among the bushes, and after a while we saw two piles of clothes. so we picked them up and ran away with them. the boys saw us, and made a terrible noise; but we sung out that they'd know now how it felt to have your clothes carried off, and we waded back across the river, and carried the clothes up to amzi's house, and hid them in his barn, and thought that we'd got even with joe and amzi, and taught them a lesson which would do them a great deal of good, and would make them good and useful men. this was in the morning about noon, and when i had my dinner i thought i'd go and see how the boys liked swimming, and offer to bring back their clothes if they'd promise to be good friends. i never was more astonished in my life than i was to find that they were nowhere near the island. i was beginning to be afraid they'd been drowned, when i heard some men calling me, and i found squire meredith and amzi willetts's father, who is a deacon, hiding among the bushes. they told me that some villains had stolen their clothes while they were in swimming, and they'd give me fifty cents if i'd go up to their houses and get their wives to give me some clothes to bring down to them. i said i didn't want the fifty cents, but i'd go and try to find some clothes for them. i meant to go straight up to amzi's barn and to bring the clothes back, but on the way i met amzi with the clothes in a basket bringing them down to the island, and he said, "somebody's goin' to be arrested for stealing father's and squire meredith's clothes. i saw the fellows that stole 'em, and i'm going to tell." you see, tom and i had taken the wrong clothes, and squire meredith and deacon willetts, who had been in swimming on the deep side of the island, had been about two hours trying to play they were zulus, and didn't need to wear any clothes, only they found it pretty hard work. deacon willetts came straight to our house, and told father that his unhappy son--that's what he called me, and wasn't i unhappy, though--had stolen his clothes and squire meredith's; but for the sake of our family he wouldn't say very much about it, only if father thought best to spare the rods and spoil a child, he wouldn't be able to regard him as a man and a brother. so father called me and asked me if i had taken deacon willetts's clothes, and when i said yes, and was going to explain how it happened, he said that my conduct was such, and that i was bringing his gray hairs down, only i wouldn't hurt them for fifty million dollars, and i've often heard him say he hadn't a gray hair in his head. and now i'm waiting up-stairs for the awful moment to arrive. i deserve it, for they say that squire meredith and deacon willetts are mornhalf eaten up by mosquitoes, and are confined to the house with salt and water, and crying out all the time that they can't stand it. i hope the feathers will work, but if they don't, no matter. i think i shall be a missionary, and do good to the heathen. i think i hear father coming in the front gate now, so i must close. our bull-fight. i'm going to stop improving my mind. it gets me into trouble all the time. grown-up folks can improve their minds without doing any harm, for nobody ever tells them that their conduct is such, and that there isn't the least excuse in the world for them; but just as sure as a boy tries to improve his mind, especially with animals, he gets into dreadful difficulties. there was a man came to our town to lecture a while ago. he had been a great traveller, and knew all about rome and niagara falls and the north pole, and such places, and father said, "now, jimmy, here's an opportunity for you to learn something and improve your mind go and take your mother and do take an interest in something besides games." well, i went to the lecture. the man told all about the australian savages and their boomerangs. he showed us a boomerang, which is a stick with two legs, and an australian will throw it at a man, and it will go and hit him, and come back of its own accord. then he told us about the way the zulus throw their assegais--that's the right way to spell it--and spear an englishman that is mornten rods away from them. then he showed a long string with a heavy lead ball on each end, and said the south americans would throw it at a wild horse, and it would wind around the horse's legs, and tie itself into a bow-knot, and then the south americans would catch the horse. but the best of all was the account of a bull-fight which he saw in spain, with the queen sitting on a throne, and giving a crown of evergreens to the chief bull-fighter. he said that bull-fighting was awfully cruel, and that he told us about it so that we might be thankful that we are so much better than those dreadful spanish people, who will watch a bull-fight all day, and think it real fun. the next day i told mr. travers about the boomerang, and he said it was all true. once there was an australian savage in a circus, and he got angry, and he threw his boomerang at a man who was in the third story of a hotel. the boomerang went down one street and up another, and into the hotel door, and up-stairs, and knocked the man on the head, and came back the same way right into the australian savage's hand. i was so anxious to show father that i had listened to the lecture that i made a boomerang just like the one the lecturer had. when it was done, i went out into the back yard, and slung it at a cat on the roof of our house. it never touched the cat, but it went right through the dining-room window, and gave mr. travers an awful blow in the eye, besides hitting sue on the nose. it stopped right there in the dining-room, and never came back to me at all, and i don't believe a word the lecturer said about it. i don't feel courage to tell what father said about it. then i tried to catch mr. thompson's dog, that lives next door to us, with two lead balls tied on the ends of a long string. i didn't hit the dog any more than i did the cat, but i didn't do any harm except to mrs. thompson's cook, and she ought to be thankful that it was only her arm, for the doctor said that if the balls had hit her on the head they would have broken it, and the consequences might have been serious. it was a good while before i could find anything to make an assegai out of; but after hunting all over the house, i came across a lovely piece of bamboo about ten feet long, and just as light as a feather. then i got a big knife-blade that hadn't any handle to it, and that had been lying in father's tool-chest for ever so long, and fastened it on the end of the bamboo. you wouldn't believe how splendidly i could throw that assegai, only the wind would take it, and you couldn't tell when you threw it where it would bring up. i don't see how the zulus ever manage to hit an englishman; but mr. travers says that the englishmen are all so made that you can't very well miss them. and then perhaps the zulus, when they want to hit them, aim at something else. one day i was practising with the assegai at our barn-door, making believe that it was an englishman, when mr. carruthers, the butcher, drove by, and the assegai came down and went through his foot, and pinned it to the wagon. but he didn't see me, and i guess he got it out after a while, though i never saw it again. but what the lecturer taught us about bull-fights was worse than anything else. tom mcginnis's father has a terrible bull in the pasture, and tom and i agreed that we'd have a bull-fight, only, of course, we wouldn't hurt the bull. all we wanted to do was to show our parents how much we had learned about the geography and habits of the spaniards. tom mcginnis's sister jane, who is twelve years old, and thinks she knows everything, said she'd be the queen of spain, and give tom and me evergreen wreaths. i got an old red curtain out of the dining-room, and divided it with tom, so that we could wave it in the bull's face. when a bull runs after a bull-fighter, the other bull-fighter just waves his red rag, and the bull goes for him and lets the first bull-fighter escape. the lecturer said that there wasn't any danger so long as one fellow would always wave a red rag when the bull ran after the other fellow. pretty nearly all the school came down to the pasture to see our bull-fight. the queen of spain sat on the fence, because there wasn't any other throne, and the rest of the fellows and girls stood behind the fence. the bull was pretty savage; but tom and i had our red rags, and we weren't afraid of him. as soon as we went into the pasture the bull came for me, with his head down, and bellowing as if he was out of his mind. tom rushed up and waved his red rag, and the bull stopped running after me, and went after tom, just as the lecturer said he would. [illustration: he went twenty feet right up into the air.] i know i ought to have waved my red rag, so as to rescue tom, but i was so interested that i forgot all about it, and the bull caught up with tom. i should think he went twenty feet right up into the air, and as he came down he hit the queen of spain, and knocked her about six feet right against mr. mcginnis, who had come down to the pasture to stop the fight. the doctor says they'll all get well, though tom's legs are all broke, and his sister's shoulder is out of joint, and mr. mcginnis has got to get a new set of teeth. father didn't do a thing to me--that is, with anything--but he talked to me till i made up my mind that i'd never try to learn anything from a lecturer again, not even if he lectures about indians and scalping-knives. our balloon. i've made up my mind that half the trouble boys get into is the fault of the grown-up folks that are always wanting them to improve their minds. i never improved my mind yet without suffering for it. there was the time i improved it studying wasps, just as the man who lectured about wasps and elephants and other insects told me to. if it hadn't been for that man i never should have thought of studying wasps. one time our school-teacher told me that i ought to improve my mind by reading history, so i borrowed the history of _blackbeard the pirate_, and improved my mind for three or four hours every day. after a while father said, "bring that book to me, jimmy, and let's see what you're reading," and when he saw it, instead of praising me, he-but what's the use of remembering our misfortunes? still, if i was grown up, i wouldn't get boys into difficulty by telling them to do all sorts of things. there was a professor came to our house the other day. a professor is a kind of man who wears spectacles up on the top of his head and takes snuff and doesn't talk english very plain. i believe professors come from somewhere near germany, and i wish this one had stayed in his own country. they live mostly on cabbage and such, and mr. travers says they are dreadfully fierce, and that when they are not at war with other people, they fight among themselves, and go on in the most dreadful way. this professor that came to see father didn't look a bit fierce, but mr. travers says that was just his deceitful way, and that if we had had a valuable old bone or a queer kind of shell in the house, the professor would have got up in the night, and stolen it and killed us all in our beds; but sue said it was a shame, and that the professor was a lovely old gentleman, and there wasn't the least harm in his kissing her. well, the professor was talking after dinner to father about balloons, and when he saw i was listening, he pretended to be awfully kind, and told me how to make a fire-balloon, and how he'd often made them and sent them up in the air; and then he told about a man who went up on horseback with his horse tied to a balloon; and father said, "now listen to the professor, jimmy, and improve your mind while you've got a chance." the next day tom mcginnis and i made a balloon just as the professor had told me to. it was made out of tissue-paper, and it had a sponge soaked full of alcohol, and when you set the alcohol on fire the tumefaction of the air would send the balloon mornamile high. we made it out in the barn, and thought we'd try it before we said anything to the folks about it, and then surprise them by showing them what a beautiful balloon we had, and how we'd improved our minds. just as it was all ready, sue's cat came into the barn, and i remembered the horse that had been tied to a balloon, and told tom we'd see if the balloon would take the cat up with it. [illustration: presently it went slowly up.] so we tied her with a whole lot of things so she would hang under the balloon without being hurt a bit, and then we took the balloon into the yard to try it. after the alcohol had burned a little while the balloon got full of air, and presently it went slowly up. there wasn't a bit of wind, and when it had gone up about twice as high as the house it stood still. you ought to have seen how that cat howled; but she was nothing compared with sue when she came out and saw her beloved beast. she screamed to me to bring her that cat this instant you good-for-nothing cruel little wretch won't you catch it when father comes home. now i'd like to know how i could reach a cat that was a hundred feet up in the air, but that's all the reasonableness that girls have. the balloon didn't stay up very long. it began to come slowly down, and when it struck the ground, the way that cat started on a run for the barn, and tried to get underneath it with the balloon all on fire behind her, was something frightful to see. by the time i could get to her and cut her loose, a lot of hay took fire and began to blaze, and tom ran for the fire-engine, crying out "fire!" with all his might. the firemen happened to be at the engine-house, though they're generally all over town, and nobody can find them when there is a fire. they brought the engine into our yard in about ten minutes, and just as sue and the cook and i had put the fire out. but that didn't prevent the firemen from working with heroic bravery, as our newspaper afterwards said. they knocked in our dining-room windows with axes, and poured about a thousand hogsheads of water into the room before we could make them understand that the fire was down by the barn, and had been put out before they came. this was all the professor's fault, and it has taught me a lesson. the next time anybody wants me to improve my mind i'll tell him he ought to be ashamed of himself. our new walk. for once i have done right. i always used to think that if i stuck to it, and tried to do what was right, i would hit it some day; but at last i pretty nearly gave up all hope, and was beginning to believe that no matter what i did, some of the grown-up folks would tell me that my conduct was such. but i have done a real useful thing that was just what father wanted, and he has said that he would overlook it this time. perhaps you think that this was not very encouraging to a boy; but if you had been told to come up-stairs with me my son as often as i have been, just because you had tried to do right, and hadn't exactly managed to suit people, you would be very glad to hear your father say that for once he would overlook it. did you ever play you were a ghost? i don't think much of ghosts, and wouldn't be a bit afraid if i was to see one. there was once a ghost that used to frighten people dreadfully by hanging himself to a hook in the wall. he was one of those tall white ghosts, and they are the very worst kind there is. this one used to come into the spare bedroom of the house where he lived before he was dead, and after walking round the room, and making as if he was in dreadfully low spirits, he would take a rope out of his pocket, and hang himself to a clothes-hook just opposite the bed, and the person who was in the bed would faint away with fright, and pull the bedclothes over his head, and be in the most dreadful agony until morning, when he would get up, and people would say, "why how dreadful you look your hair is all gray and you are whiternany sheet." one time a man came to stay at the house who wasn't afraid of anything, and he said, "i'll fix that ghost of yours; i'm a terror on wooden wheels when any ghosts are around, i am." so he was put to sleep in the room, and before he went to bed he loosened the hook, so that it would come down very easy, and then he sat up in bed and read till twelve o'clock. just when the clock struck, the ghost came in and walked up and down as usual, and finally got out his rope and hung himself; but as soon as he kicked away the chair he stood on when he hung himself, down came the hook, and the ghost fell all in a heap on the floor, and sprained his ankle, and got up and limped away, dreadfully ashamed, and nobody ever saw him again. father has been having the front garden walk fixed with an askfelt pavement. askfelt is something like molasses, only four times as sticky when it is new. after a while it grows real hard, only ours hasn't grown very hard yet. i watched the men put it down, and father said, "be careful and don't step on it until it gets hard or you'll stick fast in it and can't ever get out again. i'd like to see half a dozen meddlesome boys stuck in it and serve them right." as soon as i heard dear father mention what he'd like, i determined that he should have his wish, for there is nothing that is more delightful to a good boy than to please his father. that afternoon i mentioned to two or three boys that i knew were pretty bad boys that our melons were ripe, and that father was going to pick them in a day or two. the melon patch is at the back of the house, and after dark i dressed myself in one of mother's gowns, and hid in the wood-shed. about eleven o'clock i heard a noise, and looked out, and there were six boys coming in the back gate, and going for the melon patch. i waited till they were just ready to begin, and then i came out and said, in a hollow and protuberant voice, "beware!" they dropped the melons, and started to run, but they couldn't get to the back gate without passing close to me, and i knew they wouldn't try that. so they started to run round the house to the front gate, and i ran after them. when they reached the new front walk, they seemed to stop all of a sudden, and two or three of them fell down. [illustration: prying the boys out.] i didn't wait to hear what they had to say, but went quietly back, and got into the house through the kitchen-window, and went up-stairs to my room. i could hear them whispering, and now and then one or two of them would cry a little; but i thought it wouldn't be honorable to listen to them, so i went to sleep. in the morning there were five boys stuck in the askfelt, and frightened 'most to death. i got up early, and called father, and told him that there seemed to be something the matter with his new walk. when he came out and saw five boys caught in the pavement, and an extra pair of shoes that belonged to another boy who had wriggled out of them and gone away and left them, he was the most astonished man you ever saw. i told him how i had caught the boys stealing melons, and had played i was a ghost and frightened them away, and he said that if i'd help the coachman pry the boys out, he would overlook it. so he sat upon the piazza and overlooked the coachman and me while we pried the boys out, and they came out awfully hard, and the askfelt is full of pieces of trousers and things. i don't believe it will ever be a handsome walk; but whenever father looks at it he will think what a good boy i have been, which will give him more pleasure than a hundred new askfelt walks. a steam chair. i don't like mr. travers as much as i did. of course i know he's a very nice man, and he's going to be my brother when he marries sue, and he used to bring me candy sometimes, but he isn't what he used to be. one time--that was last summer--he was always dreadfully anxious to hear from the post-office, and whenever he came to see sue, and he and she and i would be sitting on the front piazza, he would say, "jimmy, i think there must be a letter for me; i'll give you ten cents if you'll go down to the post-office;" and then sue would say, "don't run, jimmy; you'll get heart disease if you do;" and i'd walk 'way down to the post-office, which is pretty near half a mile from our house. but now he doesn't seem to care anything about his letters; and he and sue sit in the back parlor, and mother says i mustn't go in and disturb them; and i don't get any more ten cents. i've learned that it won't do to fix your affections on human beings, for even the best of men won't keep on giving you ten cents forever. and it wasn't fair for mr. travers to get angry with me the other night, when it was all an accident--at least 'most all of it; and i don't think it's manly for a man to stand by and see a sister shake a fellow that isn't half her size, and especially when he never supposed that anything was going to happen to her even if it did break. when aunt eliza came to our house the last time, she brought a steam chair: that's what she called it, though there wasn't any steam about it. she brought it from europe with her, and it was the queerest sort of chair, that would all fold up, and had a kind of footstool to it, so that you put your legs out and just lie down in it. well, one day it got broken. the back of the seat fell down, and shut aunt eliza up in the chair so she couldn't get out, and didn't she just howl till somebody came and helped her! she was so angry that she said she never wanted to see that chair again, and you may have it if you want it jimmy for you are a good boy sometimes when you want to be. so i took the chair and mended it. the folks laughed at me, and said i couldn't mend it to save my life; but i got some nails and some mucilage, and mended it elegantly. then mother let me get some varnish, and i varnished the chair, and when it was done it looked so nice that sue said we'd keep it in the back parlor. now i'm never allowed to sit in the back parlor, so what good would my chair do me? but sue said, "stuff and nonsense that boy's indulged now till he can't rest." so they put my chair in the back parlor, just as if i'd been mending it on purpose for mr. travers. i didn't say anything more about it; but after it was in the back parlor i took out one or two screws that i thought were not needed to hold it together, and used them for a boat that i was making. that night mr. travers came as usual, and after he had talked to mother awhile about the weather, and he and father had agreed that it was a shame that other folks hadn't given more money to the michigan sufferers, and that they weren't quite sure that the sufferers were a worthy object, and that a good deal of harm was done by giving away money to all sorts of people, sue said, "perhaps we had better go into the back parlor; it is cooler there, and we won't disturb father, who wants to think about something." so she and mr. travers went into the back parlor, and shut the door, and talked very loud at first about a whole lot of things, and then quieted down, as they always did. i was in the front parlor, reading "robinson crusoe," and wishing i could go and do likewise--like crusoe, i mean; for i wouldn't go and sit quietly in a back parlor with a girl, like mr. travers, not if you were to pay me for it. i can't see what some fellows see in sue. i'm sure if mr. martin or mr. travers had her pull their hair once the way she pulls mine sometimes, they wouldn't trust themselves alone with her very soon. all at once we heard a dreadful crash in the back parlor, and mr. travers said good something very loud, and sue shrieked as if she had a needle run into her. father and mother and i and the cook and the chambermaid all rushed to see what was the matter. [illustration: it had shut up like a jack-knife.] the chair that i had mended, and that sue had taken away from me, had broken down while mr. travers was sitting in it, and it had shut up like a jack-knife, and caught him so he couldn't get out. it had caught sue too, who must have run to help him, or she never would have been in that fix, with mr. travers holding her by the waist, and her arm wedged in so she couldn't pull it away. father managed to get them loose, and then sue caught me and shook me till i could hear my teeth rattle, and then she ran up-stairs and locked herself up; and mr. travers never offered to help me, but only said, "i'll settle with you some day, young man," and then he went home. but father sat down on the sofa and laughed, and said to mother, "i guess sue would have done better if she'd have let the boy keep his chair." animals. i should like to be an animal. not an insect, of course, nor a snake, but a nice kind of animal, like an elephant or a dog with a good master. animals are awfully intelligent, but they haven't any souls. there was once an elephant in a circus, and one day a boy said to him, "want a lump of sugar, old fellow?" the elephant he nodded, and felt real grateful, for elephants are very fond of lump-sugar, which is what they live on in their native forests. but the boy put a cigar instead of a lump of sugar in his mouth. the sagacious animal, instead of eating up the cigar or trying to smoke it and making himself dreadfully sick, took it and carried it across the circus to a man who kept a candy and cigar stand, and made signs that he'd sell the cigar for twelve lumps of sugar. the man gave the elephant the sugar and took the cigar, and then the intelligent animal sat down on his hind-legs and laughed at the boy who had tried to play a joke on him, until the boy felt that much ashamed that he went right home and went to bed. in the days when there were fairies--only i don't believe there ever were any fairies, and mr. travers says they were rubbish--boys were frequently changed into animals. there was once a boy who did something that made a wicked fairy angry, and she changed him into a cat, and thought she had punished him dreadfully. but the boy after he was a cat used to come and get on her back fence and yowl as if he was ten or twelve cats all night long, and she couldn't get a wink of sleep, and fell into a fever, and had to take lots of castor-oil and dreadful medicines. so she sent for the boy who was a cat, you understand, and said she'd change him back again. but he said, "oh no; i'd much rather be a cat, for i'm so fond of singing on the back fence." and the end of it was that she had to give him a tremendous pile of money before he'd consent to be changed back into a boy again. boys can play being animals, and it's great fun, only the other boys who don't play they are animals get punished for it, and i say it's unjust, especially as i never meant any harm at all, and was doing my very best to amuse the children. this is the way it happened. aunt sarah came to see us the other day, and brought her three boys with her. i don't think you ever heard of aunt sarah, and i wish i never had. she's one of father's sisters, and he thinks a great deal more of her than i would if she was my sister, and i don't think it's much credit to anybody to be a sister anyway. the boys are twins, that is, two of them are, and they are all about three or four years old. well, one day just before christmas, when it was almost as warm out-doors as it is in summer, aunt sarah said, "jimmy, i want you to take the dear children out and amuse them a few hours. i know you're so fond of your dear little cousins and what a fine manly boy you are!" so i took them out, though i didn't want to waste my time with little children, for we are responsible for wasting time, and ought to use every minute to improve ourselves. the boys wanted to see the pigs that belong to mr. taylor, who lives next door, so i took them through a hole in the fence, and they looked at the pigs, and one of them said, "oh my how sweet they are and how i would like to be a little pig and never be washed and have lots of swill!" so i said, "why don't you play you are pigs, and crawl round and grunt? it's just as easy, and i'll look at you." you see, i thought i ought to amuse them, and that this would be a nice way to teach them to amuse themselves. well, they got down on all fours and ran round and grunted, until they began to get tired of it, and then wanted to know what else pigs could do, so i told them that pigs generally rolled in the mud, and the more mud a pig could get on himself the happier he would be, and that there was a mud puddle in our back yard that would make a pig cry like a child with delight. the boys went straight to that mud puddle, and they rolled in the mud until there wasn't an inch of them that wasn't covered with mud so thick that you would have to get a crowbar to pry it off. [illustration: "we've been playing we were pigs, ma."] just then aunt sarah came to the door and called them, and when she saw them she said, "good gracious what on earth have you been doing?" and tommy, that's the oldest boy, said, "we've been playing we were pigs ma and it's real fun and wasn't jimmy good to show us how?" i think they had to boil the boys in hot water before they could get the mud off, and their clothes have all got to be sent to the poor people out west whose things were all lost in the great floods. if you'll believe it, i never got the least bit of thanks for showing the boys how to amuse themselves, but aunt sarah said that i'd get something when father came home, and she wasn't mistaken. i'd rather not mention what it was that i got, but i got it mostly on the legs, and i think bamboo canes ought not to be sold to fathers any more than poison. i was going to tell why i should like to be an animal; but as it is getting late, i must close. a pleasing experiment. every time i try to improve my mind with science i resolve that i will never do it again, and then i always go and do it. science is so dreadfully tempting that you can hardly resist it. mr. travers says that if anybody once gets into the habit of being a scientific person there is little hope that he will ever reform, and he says he has known good men who became habitual astronomers, and actually took to prophesying weather, all because they yielded to the temptation to look through telescopes, and to make figures on the black-board with chalk. i was reading a lovely book the other day. it was all about balloons and parachutes. a parachute is a thing that you fall out of a balloon with. it is something like an open umbrella, only nobody ever borrows it. if you hold a parachute over your head and drop out of a balloon, it will hold you up so that you will come down to the ground so gently that you won't be hurt the least bit. i told tom mcginnis about it, and we said we would make a parachute, and jump out of the second-story window with it. it is easy enough to make one, for all you have to do is to get a big umbrella and open it wide, and hold on to the handle. last saturday afternoon tom came over to my house, and we got ready to try what the book said was "a pleasing scientific experiment." we didn't have the least doubt that the book told the truth. but tom didn't want to be the first to jump out of the window--neither did i--and we thought we'd give sue's kitten a chance to try a parachute, and see how she liked it. sue had an umbrella that was made of silk, and was just the thing to suit the kitten. i knew sue wouldn't mind lending the umbrella, and as she was out making calls, and i couldn't ask her permission, i borrowed the umbrella and the kitten, and meant to tell her all about it as soon as she came home. we tied the kitten fast to the handle of the umbrella, so as not to hurt her, and then dropped her out of the window. the wind was blowing tremendously hard, which i supposed was a good thing, for it is the air that holds up a parachute, and of course the more wind there is, the more air there is, and the better the parachute will stay up. the minute we dropped the cat and the umbrella out of the window, the wind took them and blew them clear over the back fence into deacon smedley's pasture before they struck the ground. this was all right enough, but the parachute didn't stop after it struck the ground. it started across the country about as fast as a horse could run, hitting the ground every few minutes, and then bouncing up into the air and coming down again, and the kitten kept clawing at everything, and yowling as if she was being killed. by the time tom and i could get down-stairs the umbrella was about a quarter of a mile off. we chased it till we couldn't run any longer, but we couldn't catch it, and the last we saw of the umbrella and the cat they were making splendid time towards the river, and i'm very much afraid they were both drowned. tom and i came home again, and when we got a little rested we said we would take the big umbrella and try the pleasing scientific experiment; at least i said that tom ought to try it, for we had proved that a little silk umbrella would let a kitten down to the ground without hurting her, and of course a great big umbrella would hold tom up all right. i didn't care to try it myself, because tom was visiting me, and we ought always to give up our own pleasures in order to make our visitors happy. after a while tom said he would do it, and when everything was ready he sat on the window-ledge, with his legs hanging out, and when the wind blew hard he jumped. [illustration: he lit right on the han's head.] it is my opinion, now that the thing is all over, that the umbrella wasn't large enough, and that if tom had struck the ground he would have been hurt. he went down awfully fast, but by good-luck the grocer's man was just coming out of the kitchen-door as tom came down, and he lit right on the man's head. it is wonderful how lucky some people are, for the grocer's man might have been hurt if he hadn't happened to have a bushel basket half full of eggs with him, and as he and tom both fell into the eggs, neither of them was hurt. they were just getting out from among the eggs when sue came in with some of the ribs of her umbrella that somebody had fished out of the river and given to her. there didn't seem to be any kitten left, for sue didn't know anything about it, but father and mr. mcginnis came in a few minutes afterwards, and i had to explain the whole thing to them. this is the last "pleasing scientific experiment" i shall ever try. i don't think science is at all nice, and, besides, i am awfully sorry about the kitten. traps. a boy ought always to stand up for his sister, and protect her from everybody, and do everything to make her happy, for she can only be his sister once, and he would be so awfully sorry if she died and then he remembered that his conduct towards her had sometimes been such. mr. withers doesn't come to our house any more. one night sue saw him coming up the garden-walk, and father said, "there's the other one coming, susan; isn't this travers's evening?" and then sue said, "i do wish somebody would protect me from him he is that stupid don't i wish i need never lay eyes on him again." i made up my mind that nobody should bother my sister while she had a brother to protect her. so the next time i saw mr. withers i spoke to him kindly and firmly--that's the way grown-up people speak when they say something dreadfully unpleasant--and told him what sue had said about him, and that he ought not to bother her any more. mr. withers didn't thank me and say that he knew i was trying to do him good, which was what he ought to have said, but he looked as if he wanted to hurt somebody, and walked off without saying a word to me, and i don't think he was polite about it. he has never been at our house since. when i told sue how i had protected her she was so overcome with gratitude that she couldn't speak, and just motioned me with a book to go out of her room and leave her to feel thankful about it by herself. the book very nearly hit me on the head, but it wouldn't have hurt much if it had. mr. travers was delighted about it, and told me that i had acted like a man, and that he shouldn't forget it. the next day he brought me a beautiful book all about traps. it told how to make mornahundred different kinds of traps that would catch everything, and it was one of the best books i ever saw. our next-door neighbor, mr. schofield, keeps pigs, only he don't keep them enough, for they run all around. they come into our garden and eat up everything, and father said he would give almost anything to get rid of them. now one of the traps that my book told about was just the thing to catch pigs with. it was made out of a young tree and a rope. you bend the tree down and fasten the rope to it so as to make a slippernoose, and when the pig walks into the slippernoose the tree flies up and jerks him into the air. i thought that i couldn't please father better than to make some traps and catch some pigs; so i got a rope, and got two irishmen that were fixing the front walk to bend down two trees for me and hold them while i made the traps. this was just before supper, and i expected that the pigs would come early the next morning and get caught. it was bright moonlight that evening, and mr. travers and sue said the house was so dreadfully hot that they would go and take a walk. they hadn't been out of the house but a few minutes when we heard an awful shriek from sue, and we all rushed out to see what was the matter. mr. travers had walked into a trap, and was swinging by one leg, with his head about six feet from the ground. nobody knew him at first except me, for when a person is upside down he doesn't look natural; but i knew what was the matter, and told father that it would take two men to bend down the tree and get mr. travers loose. so they told me to run and get mr. schofield to come and help, and they got the step-ladder so that sue could sit on the top of it and hold mr. travers's head. i was so excited that i forgot all about the other trap, and, besides, sue had said things to me that hurt my feelings, and that prevented me from thinking to tell mr. schofield not to get himself caught. he ran ahead of me, because he was so anxious to help, and the first thing i knew there came an awful yell from him, and up he went into the air, and hung there by both legs, which i suppose was easier than the way mr. travers hung. then everybody went at me in the most dreadful way, except sue, who was holding mr. travers's head. they said the most unkind things to me, and sent me into the house. i heard afterwards that father got mr. schofield's boy to climb up and cut mr. travers and mr. schofield loose, and they fell on the gravel, but it didn't hurt them much, only mr. schofield broke some of his teeth, and says he is going to bring a lawsuit against father. mr. travers was just as good as he could be. he only laughed the next time he saw me, and he begged them not to punish me, because it was his fault that i ever came to know about that kind of trap. mr. travers is the nicest man that ever lived, except father, and when he marries sue i shall go and live with him, though i haven't told him yet, for i want to keep it as a pleasant surprise for him. an accident. aunt eliza never comes to our house without getting me into difficulties. i don't really think she means to do it, but it gets itself done just the same. she was at our house last week, and though i meant to behave in the most exemplifying manner, i happened by accident to do something which she said ought to fill me with remorse for the rest of my days. remorse is a dreadful thing to have. some people have it so bad that they never get over it. there was once a ghost who suffered dreadfully from remorse. he was a tall white ghost, with a large cotton umbrella. he haunted a house where he used to walk up and down, carrying his umbrella and looking awfully solemn. people used to wonder what he wanted of an umbrella, but they never asked him, because they always shrieked and fainted away when they saw the ghost, and when they were brought to cried, "save me take it away take it away." one time a boy came to the house to spend christmas. he was just a terror, was this boy. he had been a district telegraph messenger boy, and he wasn't afraid of anything. the folks told him about the ghost, but he said he didn't care for any living ghost, and had just as soon see him as not. that night the boy woke up, and saw the ghost standing in his bedroom, and he said, "thishyer is nice conduct, coming into a gentleman's room without knocking. what do you want, anyway?" the ghost replied in the most respectful way that he wanted to find the owner of the umbrella. "i stole that umbrella when i was alive," he said, "and i am filled with remorse." "i should think you would be," said the boy, "for it is the worst old cotton umbrella i ever saw." "if i can only find the owner and give it back to him," continued the ghost, "i can get a little rest; but i've been looking for him for ninety years, and i can't find him." "serves you right," said the boy, "for not sending for a messenger. you're in luck to meet me. gimme the umbrella, and i'll give it back to the owner." "bless you," said the ghost, handing the umbrella to the boy; "you have saved me. now i will go away and rest," and he turned to go out of the door, when the boy said, "see here; it's fifty cents for taking an umbrella home, and i've got to be paid in advance." "but i haven't got any money," said the ghost. "can't help that," said the boy. "you give me fifty cents, or else take your umbrella back again. we don't do any work in our office for nothing." well, the end of it all was that the ghost left the umbrella with the boy, and the next night he came back with the money, though where he got it nobody will ever know. the boy kept the money, and threw the umbrella away, for he was a real bad boy, and only made believe that he was going to find the owner, and the ghost was never seen again. but i haven't told about the trouble with aunt eliza yet. the day she came to our house mother bought a lot of live crabs from a man, and put them in a pail in the kitchen. tom mcginnis was spending the day with me, and i said to him what fun it would be to have crab races, such as we used to have down at the sea-shore last summer. he said wouldn't it, though; so each of us took three crabs, and went up-stairs into the spare bedroom, where we could be sure of not being disturbed. we had a splendid time with the crabs, and i won more than half the races. all of a sudden i heard mother calling me, and tom and i just dropped the crabs into an empty work-basket, and pushed it under the sofa out of sight, and then went down-stairs. i meant to get the crabs and take them back to the kitchen again, but i forgot all about it, for aunt eliza came just after mother had called me, and everybody was busy talking to her. of course she was put into the spare room, and as she was very tired, she said she'd lie down on the sofa until dinner-time and take her hair down. [illustration: he pinched just as hard as he could pinch.] about an hour afterwards we heard the most dreadful cries from aunt eliza's room, and everybody rushed up-stairs, because they thought she must certainly be dead. mother opened the door, and we all went in. aunt eliza was standing in the middle of the floor, and jumping up and down, and crying and shrieking at the top of her voice. one crab was hanging on to one of her fingers, and he pinched just as hard as he could pinch, and there were two more hanging on to the ends of her hair. you see, the crabs had got out of the work-basket, and some of them had climbed up the sofa while aunt eliza was asleep. of course they said it was all my fault, and perhaps it was. but i'd like to know if it's a fair thing to leave crabs where they can tempt a fellow, and then to be severe with him when he forgets to put them back. however, i forgive everybody, especially aunt eliza, who really doesn't mean any harm. a pillow fight. we've been staying at the sea-shore for a week, and having a beautiful time. i love the sea-shore, only it would be a great deal nicer if there wasn't any sea; then you wouldn't have to go in bathing. i don't like to go in bathing, for you get so awfully wet, and the water chokes you. then there are ticks on the sea-shore in the grass. a tick is an insect that begins and bites you, and never stops till you're all ettup, and then you die, and the tick keeps on growing bigger all the time. there was once a boy and a tick got on him and bit him, and kept on biting for three or four days, and it ettup the boy till the tick was almost as big as the boy had been, and the boy wasn't any bigger than a marble, and he died, and his folks felt dreadfully about it. i never saw a tick, but i know that there are lots of them on the sea-shore, and that's reason enough not to like it. we stayed at a boarding-house while we were at the sea-shore. a boarding-house is a place where they give you pure country air and a few vegetables and a little meat, and i say give me a jail where they feed you if they do keep you shut up in the dark. there were a good many people in our boarding-house, and i slept up-stairs on the third story with three other boys, and there were two more boys on the second story, and that's the way all the trouble happened. there is nothing that is better fun than a pillow fight; that is, when you're home and have got your own pillows, and know they're not loaded, as mr. travers says. he was real good about it, too, and i sha'n't forget it, for 'most any man would have been awfully mad, but he just made as if he didn't care, only sue went on about it as if i was the worst boy that ever lived. you see, we four boys on the third story thought it would be fun to have a pillow fight with the two boys on the second story. we waited till everybody had gone to bed, and then we took our pillows and went out into the hall just as quiet as could be, only charley thompson he fell over a trunk in the hall and made a tremendous noise. one of the boarders opened his door and said who's there, but we didn't answer, and presently he said "i suppose it's that cat people ought to be ashamed of themselves to keep such animals," and shut his door again. after a little while charley was able to walk, though his legs were dreadfully rough where he'd scraped them against the trunk. so we crept down-stairs and went into the boys' room, and began to pound them with the pillows. they knew what was the matter, and jumped right up and got their pillows, and went at us so fierce that they drove us out into the hall. of course this made a good deal of noise, for we knocked over the wash-stand in the room, and upset a lot of lamps that were on the table in the hall, and every time i hit one of the boys he would say "ouch!" so loud that anybody that was awake could hear him. we fought all over the hall, and as we began to get excited we made so much noise that mr. travers got up and came out to make us keep quiet. it was pretty dark in the hall, and though i knew mr. travers, i thought he couldn't tell me from the other boys, and i thought i would just give him one good whack on the head, and then we'd all run up-stairs. he wouldn't know who hit him, and, besides, who ever heard of a fellow being hurt with a pillow? so i stood close up by the wall till he came near me, and then i gave him a splendid bang over the head. it sounded as if you had hit a fellow with a club, and mr. travers dropped to the floor with an awful crash, and never spoke a word. [illustration: i never was so frightened in my life.] i never was so frightened in my life, for i thought mr. travers was killed. i called murder help fire, and every body ran out of their rooms, and fell over trunks, and there was the most awful time you ever dreamed of. at last somebody got a lamp, and somebody else got some water and picked mr. travers up and carried him into his room, and then he came to and said, "where am i susan what is the matter o now i know." he was all right, only he had a big bump on one side of his head, and he said that it was all an accident, and that he wouldn't have sue scold me, and that it served him right for not remembering that boarding-house pillows are apt to be loaded. the next morning he made me bring him my pillow, and then he found out how it came to hurt him. all the chicken bones, and the gravel-stones, and the chunks of wood that were in the pillow had got down into one end of it while we were having the fight, and when i hit mr. travers they happened to strike him on his head where it was thin, and knocked him senseless. nobody can tell how glad i am that he wasn't killed, and it's a warning to me never to have pillow fights except with pillows that i know are not loaded with chicken bones and things. i forgot to say that after that night my mother and all the boys' mothers took all the pillows away from us, for they said they were too dangerous to be left where boys could get at them. sue's wedding. sue ought to have been married a long while ago. that's what everybody says who knows her. she has been engaged to mr. travers for three years, and has had to refuse lots of offers to go to the circus with other young men. i have wanted her to get married, so that i could go and live with her and mr. travers. when i think that if it hadn't been for a mistake i made she would have been married yesterday, i find it dreadfully hard to be resigned. but we ought always to be resigned to everything when we can't help it. before i go any further i must tell about my printing-press. it belonged to tom mcginnis, but he got tired of it and sold it to me real cheap. he was going to write to the young people's post-office box and offer to exchange it for a bicycle, a st. bernard dog, and twelve good books, but he finally let me have it for a dollar and a half. it prints beautifully, and i have printed cards for ever so many people, and made three dollars and seventy cents already. i thought it would be nice to be able to print circus bills in case tom and i should ever have another circus, so i sent to the city and bought some type mornaninch high, and some beautiful yellow paper. last week it was finally agreed that sue and mr. travers should be married without waiting any longer. you should have seen what a state of mind she and mother were in. they did nothing but buy new clothes, and sew, and talk about the wedding all day long. sue was determined to be married in church, and to have six bridesmaids and six bridegrooms, and flowers and music and things till you couldn't rest. the only thing that troubled her was making up her mind who to invite. mother wanted her to invite mr. and mrs. mcfadden and the seven mcfadden girls, but sue said they had insulted her, and she couldn't bear the idea of asking the mcfadden tribe. everybody agreed that old mr. wilkinson, who once came to a party at our house with one boot and one slipper, couldn't be invited; but it was decided that every one else that was on good terms with our family should have an invitation. sue counted up all the people she meant to invite, and there was nearly three hundred of them. you would hardly believe it, but she told me that i must carry around all the invitations and deliver them myself. of course i couldn't do this without neglecting my studies and losing time, which is always precious, so i thought of a plan which would save sue the trouble of directing three hundred invitations and save me from wasting time in delivering them. i got to work with my printing-press, and printed a dozen splendid big bills about the wedding. when they were printed i cut a lot of small pictures of animals and ladies riding on horses out of some old circus bills and pasted them on the wedding bills. they were perfectly gorgeous, and you could see them four or five rods off. when they were all done i made some paste in a tin pail, and went out after dark and pasted them in good places all over the village. i put one on mr. wilkinson's front-door, and one on the fence opposite the mcfaddens' house, so they would be sure to see it. [illustration: she gave an awful shriek and fainted away.] the next afternoon father came into the house looking very stern, and carrying one of the wedding bills in his hand. he handed it to sue and said, "susan, what does this mean? these bills are pasted all over the village, and there are crowds of people reading them." sue read the bill, and then she gave an awful shriek, and fainted away, and i hurried down to the post-office to see if the mail had come in. this is what was on the wedding bills, and i am sure it was spelled all right: miss susan brown announces that she will marry mr. james travers at the church next thursday at half past seven, sharp. all the friends of the family with the exception of the mcfadden tribe and old mr. wilkinson are invited. come early and bring lots of flowers. now what was there to find fault with in that? it was printed beautifully, and every word was spelled right, with the exception of the name of the church, and i didn't put that in because i wasn't quite sure how to spell it. the bill saved sue all the trouble of sending out invitations, and it said everything that anybody could want to know about the wedding. any other girl but sue would have been pleased, and would have thanked me for all my trouble, but she was as angry as if i had done something real bad. mr. travers was almost as angry as sue, and it was the first time he was ever angry with me. i am afraid now that he won't let me ever come and live with him. he hasn't said a word about my coming since the wedding bills were put up. as for the wedding, it has been put off, and sue says she will go to new york to be married, for she would perfectly die if she were to have a wedding at home after that boy's dreadful conduct. what is worse, i am to be sent away to boarding-school, and all because i made a mistake in printing the wedding bills without first asking sue how she would like to have them printed. our new dog. i've had another dog. that makes three dogs that i've had, and i haven't been allowed to keep any of them. grown-up folks don't seem to care how much a boy wants society. perhaps if they were better acquainted with dogs they'd understand boys better than they do. about a month ago there were lots of burglars in our town, and father said he believed he'd have to get a dog. mr. withers told father he'd get a dog for him, and the next day he brought the most beautiful siberian blood-hound you ever saw. the first night we had him we chained him up in the yard, and the neighbors threw things at him all night. nobody in our house got a wink of sleep, for the dog never stopped barking except just long enough to yell when something hit him. there was mornascuttleful of big lumps of coal in the yard in the morning, besides seven old boots, two chunks of wood, and a bushel of broken crockery. father said that the house was the proper place for the dog at night; so the next night we left him in the front hall. he didn't bark any all night, but he got tired of staying in the front hall, and wandered all over the house. i suppose he felt lonesome, for he came into my room, and got on to the bed, and nearly suffocated me. i woke up dreaming that i was in a melon patch, and had to eat three hundred green watermelons or be sent to jail, and it was a great comfort when i woke up and found it was only the dog. he knocked the water-pitcher over with his tail in the morning, and then thought he saw a cat under my bed, and made such an awful noise that father came up, and told me i ought to be ashamed to disturb the whole family so early in the morning. after that the dog was locked up in the kitchen at night, and father had to come down early and let him out, because the cook didn't dare to go into the kitchen. we let him run loose in the yard in the daytime, until he had an accident with mr. martin. we'd all been out to take tea and spend the evening with the wilkinsons, and when we got home about nine o'clock, there was mr. martin standing on the piazza, with the dog holding on to his cork-leg. mr. martin had come to the house to make a call at about seven o'clock, and as soon as he stepped on the piazza the dog caught him by the leg without saying a word. every once in a while the dog would let go just long enough to spit out a few pieces of cork and take a fresh hold, but mr. martin didn't dare to stir for fear he would take hold of the other leg, which of course would have hurt more than the cork one. mr. martin was a good deal tired and discouraged, and couldn't be made to understand that the dog thought he was a burglar, and tried to do his duty, as we should all try to do. the way i came to lose the dog was this: aunt eliza came to see us last week, and brought her little boy harry, who once went bee-hunting with me. harry, as i told you, is six years old, and he isn't so bad as he might be considering his age. the second day after they came, harry and i were in tom mcginnis's yard, when tom said he knew where there was a woodchuck down in the pasture, and suppose we go and hunt him. so i told harry to go home and get the dog, and bring him down to the pasture where tom said the woodchuck lived. i told him to untie the dog--for we had kept him tied up since his accident with mr. martin--and to keep tight hold of the rope, so that the dog couldn't get away from him. harry said he'd tie the rope around his waist, and then the dog couldn't possibly pull it away from him, and tom and i both said it was a good plan. [illustration: how that dog did pull!] well, we waited for that boy and the dog till six o'clock, and they never came. when i got home everybody wanted to know what had become of harry. he was gone and the dog was gone, and nobody knew where they were, and aunt eliza was crying, and said she knew that horrid dog had eaten her boy up. father and i and mr. travers had to go and hunt for harry. we hunted all over the town, and at last a man told us that he had seen a boy and a dog going on a run across deacon smith's corn-field. so we went through the corn-field and found their track, for they had broken down the corn just as if a wagon had driven through it. when we came to the fence on the other side of the field we found harry on one side of the fence and the dog on the other. harry had tied the dog's rope round his waist, and couldn't untie it again, and the dog had run away with him. when they came to the fence the dog had squeezed through a hole that was too small for harry, and wouldn't come back again. so they were both caught in a trap. how that dog did pull! harry was almost cut in two, for the dog kept pulling at the rope all the time with all his might. when we got home aunt eliza said that either she or that brute must leave, and father gave the dog away to the butcher. he was the most elegant dog i ever had, and i don't suppose i shall ever have another. lightning. mr. franklin was one of the greatest men that ever lived. he could carry a loaf of bread in each hand and eat another, all at the same time, and he could invent anything that anybody wanted, without hurting himself or cutting his fingers. his greatest invention was lightning, and he invented it with a kite. he made a kite with sticks made out of telegraph wire, and sent it up in a thunder-storm till it reached where the lightning is. the lightning ran down the string, and franklin collected it in a bottle, and sold it for ever so much money. so he got very rich after a while, and could buy the most beautiful and expensive kites that any fellow ever had. i read about mr. franklin in a book that father gave me. he said i was reading too many stories, and just you take this book and read it through carefully and i hope it will do you some good anyway it will keep you out of mischief. i thought that it would please father if i should get some lightning just as franklin did. i told tom mcginnis about it, and he said he would help if i would give him half of all i made by selling the lightning. i wouldn't do this, of course, but finally tom said he'd help me anyhow, and trust me to pay him a fair price; so we went to work. we made a tremendously big kite, and the first time there came a thunder-storm we put it up; but the paper got wet, and it came down before it got up to the lightning. so we made another, and covered it with white cloth that used to be one of mrs. mcginnis's sheets, only tom said he knew she didn't want it any more. we sent up this kite the next time there was a thunder-storm, and tied the string to the second-story window where the blinds hook on, and let the end of the string hang down into a bottle. it only thundered once or twice, but the lightning ran down the string pretty fast, and filled the bottle half full. it looked like water, only it was a little green, and when it stopped running into the bottle we took the lightning down-stairs to try it. i gave a little of it to the cat to drink, but it didn't hurt her a bit, and she just purred. at last tom said he didn't believe it would hurt anything; so he tasted some of it, but it didn't hurt him at all. the trouble was that the lightning was too weak to do any harm. the thunder-shower had been such a little one that it didn't have any strong lightning in it; so we threw away what was in the bottle, and agreed to try to get some good strong lightning whenever we could get a chance. it didn't rain for a long time after that, and i nearly forgot all about franklin and lightning, until one day i heard mr. travers read in the newspaper about a man who was found lying dead on the road with a bottle of jersey lightning, and that, of course, explains what was the matter with him my dear susan. i understood more about it than susan did, for she does not know anything about franklin being a girl, though i will admit it isn't her fault. you see, the cork must have come out of the man's bottle, and the lightning had leaked out and burned him to death. the very next day we had a tremendous thunder-shower, and i told tom that now was the time to get some lightning that would be stronger than anything they could make in new jersey. so we got the kite up, and got ourselves soaked through with water. we tied it to the window-ledge just as we did the first time, and put the end of the string in a tin pail, so that we could collect more lightning than one bottle would hold. it was so cold standing by the window in our wet clothes that we thought we'd go to my room and change them. [illustration: we hurried into the room.] all at once there was the most awful flash of lightning and the most tremendous clap of thunder that was ever heard. father and mother and sue were down-stairs, and they rushed up-stairs crying the darling boy is killed. that meant me. but i wasn't killed, neither was tom, and we hurried into the room where we were collecting lightning to see what was the matter. there we found the tin pail knocked into splinters and the lightning spilled all over the floor. it had set fire to the carpet, and burned a hole right through the floor into the kitchen, and pretty much broke up the whole kitchen stove. father cut the kite-string and let the kite go, and told me that it was as much as my life was worth to send up a kite in a thunder-storm. you see, so much lightning will come down the string that it will kill anybody that stands near it. i know this is true, because father says so, but i'd like to know how franklin managed. i forgot to say that father wasn't a bit pleased. my camera. i had a birthday last week. when i woke up in the morning i found right by the side of my bed a mahogany box, with a round hole on one side of it and a ground-glass door on the other side. i thought it was a new kind of rat-trap; and so i got out of bed and got a piece of cheese, and set the trap in the garret, which is about half full of rats. but it turned out that the box wasn't a rat-trap. mr. travers gave it to me, and when he came to dinner he explained that it was a camera for taking photographs, and that it would improve my mind tremendously if i would learn to use it. i soon found out that there isn't anything much better than a camera, except, of course, a big dog, which i can't have, because mother says a dog tracks dirt all over the house, and father says a dog is dangerous, and sue says a dog jumps all over you and tears your dresses a great good-for-nothing ugly beast. it's very hard to be kept apart from dogs; but our parents always know what is best for us, though we may not see it at the time; and i don't believe father really knows how it feels when your trousers are thin and you haven't any boots on, so it stings your legs every time. but i was going to write about the camera. you take photographs with the camera--people and things. there's a lens on one end of it, and when you point it at anything, you see a picture of it upside down on the little glass door at the back of the camera. then you put a dry plate, which is a piece of glass with chemicals on it, in the camera, and then you take it out and put it in some more chemicals, the right name of which is a developer, and then you see a picture on the dry plate, only it is right side up, and not like the one on the ground-glass door. it's the best fun in the world taking pictures; and i can't see that it improves your mind a bit--at least not enough to worry you. you have to practise a great deal before you can take a picture, and everybody who knows anything about it tells you to do something different. there are five men in our town who take photographs, and each one tells me to use a different kind of dry plate and a different kind of developer, and that all the other men may mean well, and they hope they do, but people ought not to tell a boy to use bad plates and poor developers; and don't you pay any attention to them, jimmy, but do as i tell you. i've got so now that i make beautiful pictures. i took a photograph of sue the other day, and another of old deacon brewster, and you can tell which is which just as easy as anything, if you look at them in the right way, and remember that deacon brewster, being a man, is smoking a pipe, and that, of course, a picture of sue wouldn't have a pipe in it. sue don't like to have me take pictures, but that's because she is a girl, and girls haven't the kind of minds that can understand art. mr. mcginnis--tom's father--don't like my camera either; but that's because he is near-sighted, and thought it was a gun when i pointed it at him, and he yelled, "don't shoot, for mercy's sake!" and went out of our front yard and over the fence in lessenasecond. when he found out what it was he said he never dreamed of being frightened, but had business down-town, and he didn't think boys ought to be trusted with such things, anyway. i made a great discovery last week. you know i said that when you look through the camera at anything you see it upside down on the ground glass. this doesn't look right, and unless you stand on your head when you take a photograph, which is very hard work, you can't help feeling that the picture is all wrong. i was going to take a photograph of a big engraving that belongs to father, when i thought of turning it upside down. this made it look all right on the ground glass. this is my discovery; and if men who take photographs could only get the people they photograph to stand on their heads, they would get beautiful pictures. mr. travers says that i ought to get a patent for this discovery, but so far it has only got me into trouble. saturday afternoon everybody was out of the house except me and the baby and the nurse, and she was down in the kitchen, and the baby was asleep. so i thought i would take a picture of the baby. of course it wouldn't sit still for me; so i thought of the way the indians strap their babies to a flat board, which keeps them from getting round-shouldered, and is very convenient besides. i got a nice flat piece of board and tied the baby to it, and put him on a table, and leaned him up against the wall. then i remembered my discovery, and just stood the baby on his head so as to get a good picture of him. [illustration: i did get a beautiful picture.] i did get a beautiful picture. at least i am sure it would have been if i hadn't been interrupted while i was developing it. i forgot to put the baby right side up, and in about ten minutes mother came in and found it, and then she came up into my room and interrupted me. father came home a little later and interrupted me some more. so the picture was spoiled, and so was father's new rattan. of course i deserved it for forgetting the baby; but it didn't hurt it any to stand on its head a little while, for babies haven't any brains like boys and grown-up people, and, besides, it's the solemn truth that i meant to turn the baby right side up, only i forgot it. freckles. after the time i tried to photograph the baby, my camera was taken away from me and locked up for ever so long. sue said i wasn't to be trusted with it and it would go off some day when you think it isn't loaded and hurt somebody worse than you hurt the baby you good-for-nothing little nuisance. father kept the camera locked up for about a month, and said when i see some real reformation in you james you shall have it back again. but i shall never have it back again now, and if i did, it wouldn't be of any use, for i'm never to be allowed to have any more chemicals. father is going to give the camera to the missionaries, so that they can photograph heathen and things, and all the chemicals i had have been thrown away, just because i made a mistake in using them. i don't say it didn't serve me right, but i can't help wishing that father would change his mind. i have never said much about my other sister, lizzie, because she is nothing but a girl. she is twelve years old, and of course she plays with dolls, and doesn't know enough to play base-ball or do anything really useful. she scarcely ever gets me into scrapes, though, and that's where sue might follow her example. however, it was lizzie who got me into the scrape about my chemicals, though she didn't mean to, poor girl. one night mr. travers came to tea, and everybody was talking about freckles. mr. travers said that they were real fashionable, and that all the ladies were trying to get them. i am sure i don't see why. i've mornamillion freckles, and i'd be glad to let anybody have them who would agree to take them away. sue said she thought freckles were perfectly lovely, and it's a good thing she thinks so, for she has about as many as she can use; and lizzie said she'd give anything if she only had a few nice freckles on her cheeks. mother asked what made freckles, and mr. travers said the sun made them just as it makes photographs. "jimmy will understand it," said mr. travers. "he knows how the sun makes a picture when it shines on a photograph plate, and all his freckles were made just in the same way. without the sun there wouldn't be any freckles." this sounded reasonable, but then mr. travers forgot all about chemicals. as i said, the last time i wrote, chemicals is something in a bottle like medicine, and you have to put it on a photograph plate so as to make the picture that the sun has made show itself. now if chemicals will do this with a photograph plate, it ought to do it with a girl's cheek. you take a girl and let the sun shine on her cheek, and put chemicals on her, and it ought to bring out splendid freckles. i'm very fond of lizzie, though she is a girl, because she minds her own business, and don't meddle with my things and get me into scrapes. i'd have given her all my freckles if i could, as soon as i knew she wanted them, and as soon as mr. travers said that freckles were made just like photographs, i made up my mind i would make some for her. so i told her she should have the best freckles in town if she'd come up to my room the next morning, and let me expose her to the sun and then put chemicals on her. lizzie has confidence in me, which is one of her best qualities, and shows that she is a good girl. she was so pleased when i promised to make freckles for her; and as soon as the sun got up high enough to shine into my window she came up to my room all ready to be freckled. i exposed her to the sun for six seconds. i only exposed my photograph plates three seconds, but i thought that lizzie might not be quite as sensitive, and so i exposed her longer. then i took her into the dark closet where i kept the chemicals, and poured chemicals on her cheeks. i made her hold her handkerchief on her face so that the chemicals couldn't get into her eyes and run down her neck, for she wanted freckles only on her cheeks. i watched her very carefully, but the freckles didn't come out. i put more chemicals on her, and rubbed it in with a cloth; but it was no use, the freckles wouldn't come. i don't know what the reason was. perhaps i hadn't exposed her long enough, or perhaps the chemicals was weak. anyway, not a single freckle could i make. [illustration: mother and sue made a dreadful fuss.] so after a while i gave it up, and told her it was no use, and she could go and wash her face. she cried a little because she was disappointed, but she cried more afterwards. you see, the chemicals made her cheek almost black, and she couldn't wash it off. mother and sue made a dreadful fuss about it, and sent for the doctor, who said he thought it would wear off in a year or so, and wouldn't kill the child or do her very much harm. this is the reason why they took my chemicals away, and promised to give my camera to the missionaries. all i meant was to please lizzie, and i never knew the chemicals would turn her black. but it isn't the first time i have tried to be kind and have been made to suffer for it. santa claus. the other day i was at tom mcginnis's house, and he had some company. he was a big boy, and something like a cousin of tom's. would you believe it, that fellow said there wasn't any santa claus? now that boy distinctly did tell--but i won't mention it. we should never reveal the wickedness of other people, and ought always to be thankful that we are worse than anybody else. otherwise we should be like the pharisee, and he was very bad. i knew for certain that it was a fib tom mcginnis's cousin told. but all the same, the more i thought about it the more i got worried. if there is a santa claus--and of course there is--how could he get up on the top of the house, so he could come down the chimney, unless he carried a big ladder with him; and if he did this, how could he carry presents enough to fill mornahundred stockings? and then how could he help getting the things all over soot from the chimney, and how does he manage when the chimney is all full of smoke and fire, as it always is at christmas! but then, as the preacher says, he may be supernatural--i had to look that word up in the dictionary. the story tom mcginnis's cousin told kept on worrying me, and finally i began to think how perfectly awful it would be if there was any truth in it. how the children would feel! there's going to be no end of children at our house this christmas, and aunt eliza and her two small boys are here already. i heard mother and aunt eliza talking about christmas the other day, and they agreed that all the children should sleep on cot bedsteads in the back parlor, so that they could open their stockings together, and mother said, "you know, eliza, there's a big fireplace in that room, and the children can hang their stockings around the chimney." now i know i did wrong, but it was only because i did not want the children to be disappointed. we should always do to others and so on, and i know i should have been grateful if anybody had tried to get up a santa claus for me in case of the real one being out of repair. neither do i blame mother, though if she hadn't spoken about the fireplace in the way she did, it would never have happened. but i do think that they ought to have made a little allowance for me, since i was only trying to help make the christmas business successful. it all happened yesterday. tom mcginnis had come to see me, and all the folks had gone out to ride except aunt eliza's little boy harry. we were talking about christmas, and i was telling tom how all the children were to sleep in the back parlor, and how there was a chimney there that was just the thing for santa claus. we went and looked at the chimney, and then i said to tom what fun it would be to dress up and come down the chimney and pretend to be santa claus, and how it would amuse the children, and how pleased the grown-up folks would be, for they are always wanting us to amuse them. tom agreed with me that it would be splendid fun, and said we ought to practise coming down the chimney, so that we could do it easily on christmas-eve. he said he thought i ought to do it, because it was our house; but i said no, he was a visitor, and it would be mean and selfish in me to deprive him of any pleasure. but tom wouldn't do it. he said that he wasn't feeling very well, and that he didn't like to take liberties with our chimney, and, besides, he was afraid that he was so big that he wouldn't fit the chimney. then we thought of harry, and agreed that he was just the right size. of course harry said he'd do it when we asked him, for he isn't afraid of anything, and is so proud to be allowed to play with tom and me that he would do anything we asked him to do. well, harry took off his coat and shoes, and we all went up to the roof, and tom and i boosted harry till he got on the top of the chimney and put his legs in it and slid down. he went down like a flash, for he didn't know enough to brace himself the way the chimney-sweeps do. tom and i we hurried down to the back parlor to meet him; but he had not arrived yet, though the fireplace was full of ashes and soot. we supposed he had stopped on the way to rest; but after a while we thought we heard a noise, like somebody calling, that was a great way off. we went up on the roof, thinking harry might have climbed back up the chimney, but he wasn't there. when we got on the top of the chimney we could hear him plain enough. he was crying and yelling for help, for he was stuck about half-way down the chimney, and couldn't get either up or down. we talked it over for some time, and decided that the best thing to do was to get a rope and let it down to him, and pull him out. so i got the clothes-line and let it down, but harry's arms were jammed close to his sides, so he couldn't get hold of it. tom said we ought to make a slippernoose, catch it over harry's head, and pull him out that way, but i knew that harry wasn't very strong, and i was afraid if we did that he might come apart. then i proposed that we should get a long pole and push harry down the rest of the chimney, but after hunting all over the yard we couldn't find a pole that was long enough, so we had to give that plan up. all this time harry was crying in the most discontented way, although we were doing all we could for him. that's the way with little boys. they never have any gratitude, and are always discontented. as we couldn't poke harry down, tom said let's try to poke him up. so we told harry to be patient and considerate, and we went down-stairs again, and took the longest pole we could find and pushed it up the chimney. bushels of soot came down, and flew over everything, but we couldn't reach harry with the pole. by this time we began to feel discouraged. we were awfully sorry for harry, because, if we couldn't get him out before the folks came home, tom and i would be in a dreadful scrape. then i thought that if we were to build a little fire the draught might draw harry out. tom thought it was an excellent plan. so i started a fire, but it didn't loosen harry a bit, and when we went on the roof to meet him we heard him crying louder than ever, and saying that something was on fire in the chimney and was choking him. i knew what to do, though tom didn't, and, to tell the truth, he was terribly frightened. we ran down and got two pails of water, and poured them down the chimney. that put the fire out, but you would hardly believe that harry was more unreasonable than ever, and said we were trying to drown him. there is no comfort in wearing yourself out in trying to please little boys. you can't satisfy them, no matter how much trouble you take, and for my part i am tired of trying to please harry, and shall let him amuse himself the rest of the time he is at our house. [illustration: they got harry out all safe.] we had tried every plan we could think of to get harry out of the chimney, but none of them succeeded. tom said that if we were to pour a whole lot of oil down the chimney it would make it so slippery that harry would slide right down into the back parlor, but i wouldn't do it, because i knew the oil would spoil harry's clothes, and that would make aunt eliza angry. all of a sudden i heard a carriage stop at our gate, and there were the grown folks, who had come home earlier than i had supposed they would. tom said that he thought he would go home before his own folks began to get uneasy about him, so he went out of the back gate, and left me to explain things. they had to send for some men to come and cut a hole through the wall. but they got harry out all safe; and after they found that he wasn't a bit hurt, instead of thanking me for all tom and i had done for him, they seemed to think that i deserved the worst punishment i ever had, and i got it. i shall never make another attempt to amuse children on christmas-eve. the end the marvelous land of oz being an account of the further adventures of the scarecrow and tin woodman and also the strange experiences of the highly magnified woggle-bug, jack pumpkinhead, the animated saw-horse and the gump; the story being a sequel to the wizard of oz by l. frank baum author of father goose-his book; the wizard of oz; the magical monarch of mo; the enchanted isle of yew; the life and adventures of santa claus; dot and tot of merryland etc. etc. pictured by john r. neil books of wonder william morrow & company, inc. new york copyright 1904 by l. frank baum all rights reserved published, july, 1904 author's note after the publication of "the wonderful wizard of oz" i began to receive letters from children, telling me of their pleasure in reading the story and asking me to "write something more" about the scarecrow and the tin woodman. at first i considered these little letters, frank and earnest though they were, in the light of pretty compliments; but the letters continued to come during succeeding months, and even years. finally i promised one little girl, who made a long journey to see me and prefer her request,--and she is a "dorothy," by the way--that when a thousand little girls had written me a thousand little letters asking for the scarecrow and the tin woodman i would write the book, either little dorothy was a fairy in disguise, and waved her magic wand, or the success of the stage production of "the wizard of oz" made new friends for the story, for the thousand letters reached their destination long since--and many more followed them. and now, although pleading guilty to long delay, i have kept my promise in this book. l. frank baum. chicago, june, 1904 to those excellent good fellows and comedians david c. montgomery and frank a. stone whose clever personations of the tin woodman and the scarecrow have delighted thousands of children throughout the land, this book is gratefully dedicated by the author list of chapters page tip manufactures pumpkinhead 7 the marvelous powder of life 15 the flight of the fugitives 29 tip makes an experiment in magic 39 the awakening of the saw-horse 47 jack pumpkinhead's ride to the emerald city 59 his majesty the scarecrow 71 gen. jinjur's army of revolt 83 the scarecrow plans an escape 97 the journey to the tin woodman 109 a nickel-plated emperor 121 mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. 135 a highly magnified history 147 old mombi indulges in witchcraft 159 the prisoners of the queen 169 the scarecrow takes time to think 181 the astonishing flight of the gump 191 in the jackdaw's nest 201 dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills 219 the scarecrow appeals to glinda the good 231 the tin-woodman plucks a rose 247 the transformation of old mombi 257 princess ozma of oz 265 the riches of content 279 7 tip manufactures a pumpkinhead in the country of the gillikins, which is at the north of the land of oz, lived a youth called tip. there was more to his name than that, for old mombi often declared that his whole name was tippetarius; but no one was expected to say such a long word when "tip" would do just as well. this boy remembered nothing of his parents, for he had been brought when quite young to be reared by the old woman known as mombi, whose reputation, i am sorry to say, was none of the best. for the gillikin people had reason to suspect her of indulging in magical arts, and therefore hesitated to associate with her. mombi was not exactly a witch, because the good witch who ruled that part of the land of oz 8 line-art drawing had forbidden any other witch to exist in her dominions. so tip's guardian, however much she might aspire to working magic, realized it was unlawful to be more than a sorceress, or at most a wizardess. tip was made to carry wood from the forest, that the old woman might boil her pot. he also worked in the corn-fields, hoeing and husking; and he fed the pigs and milked the four-horned cow that was mombi's especial pride. but you must not suppose he worked all the time, for he felt that would be bad for him. when sent to the forest tip often climbed trees for birds' eggs or amused himself chasing the fleet white rabbits or fishing in the brooks with bent pins. then he would hastily gather his armful of wood and carry it home. and when he was supposed to be working in the corn-fields, and the tall stalks hid him from mombi's view, tip would often dig in the gopher holes, or if the mood seized him-9 lie upon his back between the rows of corn and take a nap. so, by taking care not to exhaust his strength, he grew as strong and rugged as a boy may be. mombi's curious magic often frightened her neighbors, and they treated her shyly, yet respectfully, because of her weird powers. but tip frankly hated her, and took no pains to hide his feelings. indeed, he sometimes showed less respect for the old woman than he should have done, considering she was his guardian. there were pumpkins in mombi's corn-fields, lying golden red among the rows of green stalks; and these had been planted and carefully tended that the four-horned cow might eat of them in the winter time. but one day, after the corn had all been cut and stacked, and tip was carrying the pumpkins to the stable, he took a notion to make a "jack lantern" and try to give the old woman a fright with it. so he selected a fine, big pumpkin--one with a lustrous, orange-red color--and began carving it. with the point of his knife he made two round eyes, a three-cornered nose, and line-art drawing 10 a mouth shaped like a new moon. the face, when completed, could not have been considered strictly beautiful; but it wore a smile so big and broad, and was so jolly in expression, that even tip laughed as he looked admiringly at his work. the child had no playmates, so he did not know that boys often dig out the inside of a "pumpkin-jack," and in the space thus made put a lighted candle to render the face more startling; but he conceived an idea of his own that promised to be quite as effective. he decided to manufacture the form of a man, who would wear this pumpkin head, and to stand it in a place where old mombi would meet it face to face. "and then," said tip to himself, with a laugh, "she'll squeal louder than the brown pig does when i pull her tail, and shiver with fright worse than i did last year when i had the ague!" he had plenty of time to accomplish this task, for mombi had gone to a village--to buy groceries, she said--and it was a journey of at least two days. so he took his axe to the forest, and selected some stout, straight saplings, which he cut down and trimmed of all their twigs and leaves. from these he would make the arms, and legs, and feet of his man. for the body he stripped a sheet of thick 11 bark from around a big tree, and with much labor fashioned it into a cylinder of about the right size, pinning the edges together with wooden pegs. then, whistling happily as he worked, he carefully jointed the limbs and fastened them to the body with pegs whittled into shape with his knife. by the time this feat had been accomplished it began to grow dark, and tip remembered he must milk the cow and feed the pigs. so he picked up his wooden man and carried it back to the house with him. during the evening, by the light of the fire in the kitchen, tip carefully rounded all the edges of the joints and smoothed the rough places in a neat and workmanlike manner. then he stood the figure up against the wall and admired it. it seemed remarkably tall, even for a full-grown man; but that was a good point in a small boy's eyes, and tip did not object at all to the size of his creation. next morning, when he looked at his work again, tip saw he had forgotten to give the dummy a neck, by means of which he might fasten the pumpkinhead to the body. so he went again to the forest, which was not far away, and chopped from a tree several pieces of wood with which to complete his work. when he returned he fastened a cross-piece 12 to the upper end of the body, making a hole through the center to hold upright the neck. the bit of wood which formed this neck was also sharpened at the upper end, and when all was ready tip put on the pumpkin head, pressing it well down onto the neck, and found that it fitted very well. the head could be turned to one side or the other, as he pleased, and the hinges of the arms and legs allowed him to place the dummy in any position he desired. "now, that," declared tip, proudly, "is really a very fine man, and it ought to frighten several screeches out of old mombi! but it would be much more lifelike if it were properly dressed." to find clothing seemed no easy task; but tip boldly ransacked the great chest in which mombi kept all her keepsakes and treasures, and at the very bottom he discovered some purple trousers, a red shirt and a pink vest which was dotted with white spots. these he carried away to his man and succeeded, although the garments did not fit very well, in dressing the creature in a jaunty fashion. some knit stockings belonging to mombi and a much worn pair of his own shoes completed the man's apparel, and tip was so delighted that he danced up and down and laughed aloud in boyish ecstacy. 13 "i must give him a name!" he cried. "so good a man as this must surely have a name. i believe," he added, after a moment's thought, "i will name the fellow 'jack pumpkinhead!'" line-art drawing 14 full page line-art drawing. 15 the marvelous powder of life after considering the matter carefully, tip decided that the best place to locate jack would be at the bend in the road, a little way from the house. so he started to carry his man there, but found him heavy and rather awkward to handle. after dragging the creature a short distance tip stood him on his feet, and by first bending the joints of one leg, and then those of the other, at the same time pushing from behind, the boy managed to induce jack to walk to the bend in the road. it was not accomplished without a few tumbles, and tip really worked harder than he ever had in the fields or 16 forest; but a love of mischief urged him on, and it pleased him to test the cleverness of his workmanship. "jack's all right, and works fine!" he said to himself, panting with the unusual exertion. but just then he discovered the man's left arm had fallen off in the journey so he went back to find it, and afterward, by whittling a new and stouter pin for the shoulder-joint, he repaired the injury so successfully that the arm was stronger than before. tip also noticed that jack's pumpkin head had twisted around until it faced his back; but this was easily remedied. when, at last, the man was set up facing the turn in the path where old mombi was to appear, he looked natural enough to be a fair imitation of a gillikin farmer,--and unnatural enough to startle anyone that came on him unawares. as it was yet too early in the day to expect the old woman to return home, tip went down into the valley below the farm-house and began to gather nuts from the trees that grew there. however, old mombi returned earlier than usual. she had met a crooked wizard who resided in a lonely cave in the mountains, and had traded several important secrets of magic with him. hav17 ing in this way secured three new recipes, four magical powders and a selection of herbs of wonderful power and potency, she hobbled home as fast as she could, in order to test her new sorceries. so intent was mombi on the treasures she had gained that when she turned the bend in the road and caught a glimpse of the man, she merely nodded and said: "good evening, sir." but, a moment after, noting that the person did not move or reply, she cast a shrewd glance into his face and discovered his pumpkin head elaborately carved by tip's jack-knife. "heh!" ejaculated mombi, giving a sort of grunt; "that rascally boy has been playing tricks again! very good! ve--ry good! i'll beat him blackand-blue for trying to scare me in this fashion!" angrily she raised her stick to smash in the grinning pumpkin head of the dummy; but a sudden thought made her pause, the uplifted stick left motionless in the air. "why, here is a good chance to try my new powder!" said she, eagerly. "and then i can tell whether that crooked wizard has fairly traded secrets, or whether he has fooled me as wickedly as i fooled him." 18 so she set down her basket and began fumbling in it for one of the precious powders she had obtained. while mombi was thus occupied tip strolled back, with his pockets full of nuts, and discovered the old woman standing beside his man and apparently not the least bit frightened by it. at first he was generally disappointed; but the next moment he became curious to know what mombi was going to do. so he hid behind a hedge, where he could see without being seen, and prepared to watch. after some search the woman drew from her basket an old pepper-box, upon the faded label of which the wizard had written with a lead-pencil: "powder of life." "ah--here it is!" she cried, joyfully. "and now let us see if it is potent. the stingy wizard didn't give me much of it, but i guess there's enough for two or three doses." tip was much surprised when he overheard this speech. then he saw old mombi raise her arm and sprinkle the powder from the box over the pumpkin head of his man jack. she did this in the same way one would pepper a baked potato, and the powder sifted down from jack's head and scattered 19 full page line-art drawing. "old mombi danced around him" 20 over the red shirt and pink waistcoat and purple trousers tip had dressed him in, and a portion even fell upon the patched and worn shoes. then, putting the pepper-box back into the basket, mombi lifted her left hand, with its little finger pointed upward, and said: "weaugh!" then she lifted her right hand, with the thumb pointed upward, and said: "teaugh!" then she lifted both hands, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried: "peaugh!" jack pumpkinhead stepped back a pace, at this, and said in a reproachful voice: "don't yell like that! do you think i'm deaf?" old mombi danced around him, frantic with delight. "he lives!" she screamed: "he lives! he lives!" then she threw her stick into the air and caught it as it came down; and she hugged herself with both arms, and tried to do a step of a jig; and all the time she repeated, rapturously: "he lives!--he lives!--he lives!" now you may well suppose that tip observed all this with amazement. 21 at first he was so frightened and horrified that he wanted to run away, but his legs trembled and shook so badly that he couldn't. then it struck him as a very funny thing for jack to come to life, especially as the expression on his pumpkin face was so droll and comical it excited laughter on the instant. so, recovering from his first fear, tip began to laugh; and the merry peals reached old mombi's ears and made her hobble quickly to the hedge, where she seized tip's collar and dragged him back to where she had left her basket and the pumpkinheaded man. "you naughty, sneaking, wicked boy!" she exclaimed, furiously: "i'll teach you to spy out my secrets and to make fun of me!" "i wasn't making fun of you," protested tip. "i was laughing at old pumpkinhead! look at him! isn't he a picture, though?" "i hope you are not reflecting on my personal appearance," said jack; and it was so funny to hear his grave voice, while his face continued to wear its jolly smile, that tip again burst into a peal of laughter. even mombi was not without a curious interest in the man her magic had brought to life; for, after staring at him intently, she presently asked: 22 full page line-art drawing. old mombi puts jack in the stable 23 "what do you know?" "well, that is hard to tell," replied jack. "for although i feel that i know a tremendous lot, i am not yet aware how much there is in the world to find out about. it will take me a little time to discover whether i am very wise or very foolish." "to be sure," said mombi, thoughtfully. "but what are you going to do with him, now he is alive?" asked tip, wondering. "i must think it over," answered mombi. "but we must get home at once, for it is growing dark. help the pumpkinhead to walk." "never mind me," said jack; "i can walk as well as you can. haven't i got legs and feet, and aren't they jointed?" "are they?" asked the woman, turning to tip. "of course they are; i made 'em myself," returned the boy, with pride. so they started for the house, but when they reached the farm yard old mombi led the pumpkin man to the cow stable and shut him up in an empty stall, fastening the door securely on the outside. "i've got to attend to you, first," she said, nodding her head at tip. hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for he 24 knew mombi had a bad and revengeful heart, and would not hesitate to do any evil thing. they entered the house. it was a round, domeshaped structure, as are nearly all the farm houses in the land of oz. mombi bade the boy light a candle, while she put her basket in a cupboard and hung her cloak on a peg. tip obeyed quickly, for he was afraid of her. after the candle had been lighted mombi ordered him to build a fire in the hearth, and while tip was thus engaged the old woman ate her supper. when the flames began to crackle the boy came to her and asked a share of the bread and cheese; but mombi refused him. "i'm hungry!" said tip, in a sulky tone. "you won't be hungry long," replied mombi, with a grim look. the boy didn't like this speech, for it sounded like a threat; but he happened to remember he had nuts in his pocket, so he cracked some of those and ate them while the woman rose, shook the crumbs from her apron, and hung above the fire a small black kettle. then she measured out equal parts of milk and vinegar and poured them into the kettle. next she 25 produced several packets of herbs and powders and began adding a portion of each to the contents of the kettle. occasionally she would draw near the candle and read from a yellow paper the recipe of the mess she was concocting. as tip watched her his uneasiness increased. "what is that for?" he asked. "for you," returned mombi, briefly. tip wriggled around upon his stool and stared awhile at the kettle, which was beginning to bubble. then he would glance at the stern and wrinkled features of the witch and wish he were any place but in that dim and smoky kitchen, where even the shadows cast by the candle upon the wall were enough to give one the horrors. so an hour passed away, during which the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the pot and the hissing of the flames. finally, tip spoke again. "have i got to drink that stuff?" he asked, nodding toward the pot. "yes," said mombi. "what'll it do to me?" asked tip. "if it's properly made," replied mombi, "it will change or transform you into a marble statue." tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. 26 "i don't want to be a marble statue!" he protested. "that doesn't matter i want you to be one," said the old woman, looking at him severely. "what use'll i be then?" asked tip. "there won't be any one to work for you." "i'll make the pumpkinhead work for me," said mombi. again tip groaned. "why don't you change me into a goat, or a chicken?" he asked, anxiously. "you can't do anything with a marble statue." "oh, yes, i can," returned mombi. "i'm going to plant a flower garden, next spring, and i'll put you in the middle of it, for an ornament. i wonder i haven't thought of that before; you've been a bother to me for years." at this terrible speech tip felt the beads of perspiration starting all over his body, but he sat still and shivered and looked anxiously at the kettle. "perhaps it won't work," he mutttered, in a voice that sounded weak and discouraged. "oh, i think it will," answered mombi, cheerfully. "i seldom make a mistake." again there was a period of silence a silence so long and gloomy that when mombi finally lifted the kettle from the fire it was close to midnight. 27 full page line-art drawing. "i don't want to be a marble statue." 28 "you cannot drink it until it has become quite cold," announced the old witch for in spite of the law she had acknowledged practising witchcraft. "we must both go to bed now, and at daybreak i will call you and at once complete your transformation into a marble statue." with this she hobbled into her room, bearing the steaming kettle with her, and tip heard her close and lock the door. the boy did not go to bed, as he had been commanded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire. line-art drawing 29 the flight of the fugitives tip reflected. "it's a hard thing, to be a marble statue," he thought, rebelliously, "and i'm not going to stand it. for years i've been a bother to her, she says; so she's going to get rid of me. well, there's an easier way than to become a statue. no boy could have any fun forever standing in the middle of a flower garden! i'll run away, that's what i'll do--and i may as well go before she makes me drink that nasty stuff in the kettle." he waited until the snores of the old witch announced she was fast asleep, and then he arose softly and went to the cupboard to find something to eat. 30 "no use starting on a journey without food," he decided, searching upon the narrow shelves. he found some crusts of bread; but he had to look into mombi's basket to find the cheese she had brought from the village. while turning over the contents of the basket he came upon the pepper-box which contained the "powder of life." "i may as well take this with me," he thought, "or mombi'll be using it to make more mischief with." so he put the box in his pocket, together with the bread and cheese. then he cautiously left the house and latched the door behind him. outside both moon and stars shone brightly, and the night seemed peaceful and inviting after the close and ill-smelling kitchen. "i'll be glad to get away," said tip, softly; "for i never did like that old woman. i wonder how i ever came to live with her." he was walking slowly toward the road when a thought made him pause. "i don't like to leave jack pumpkinhead to the tender mercies of old mombi," he muttered. "and jack belongs to me, for i made him even if the old witch did bring him to life." he retraced his steps to the cow-stable and opened the door of the stall where the pumpkin31 full page line-art drawing. "tip led him along the path." 32 headed man had been left. jack was standing in the middle of the stall, and by the moonlight tip could see he was smiling just as jovially as ever. "come on!" said the boy, beckoning. "where to?" asked jack. "you'll know as soon as i do," answered tip, smiling sympathetically into the pumpkin face. "all we've got to do now is to tramp." "very well," returned jack, and walked awkwardly out of the stable and into the moonlight. tip turned toward the road and the man followed him. jack walked with a sort of limp, and occasionally one of the joints of his legs would turn backward, instead of frontwise, almost causing him to tumble. but the pumpkinhead was quick to notice this, and began to take more pains to step carefully; so that he met with few accidents. tip led him along the path without stopping an instant. they could not go very fast, but they walked steadily; and by the time the moon sank away and the sun peeped over the hills they had travelled so great a distance that the boy had no reason to fear pursuit from the old witch. moreover, he had turned first into one path, and then into another, so that should anyone follow them it 33 would prove very difficult to guess which way they had gone, or where to seek them. fairly satisfied that he had escaped--for a time, at least--being turned into a marble statue, the boy stopped his companion and seated himself upon a rock by the roadside. "let's have some breakfast," he said. jack pumpkinhead watched tip curiously, but refused to join in the repast. "i don't seem to be made the same way you are," he said. "i know you are not," returned tip; "for i made you." "oh! did you?" asked jack. "certainly. and put you together. and carved your eyes and nose and ears and line-art drawing along the right side of the page 34 mouth," said tip proudly. "and dressed you." jack looked at his body and limbs critically. "it strikes me you made a very good job of it," he remarked. "just so-so," replied tip, modestly; for he began to see certain defects in the construction of his man. "if i'd known we were going to travel together i might have been a little more particular." "why, then," said the pumpkinhead, in a tone that expressed surprise, "you must be my creator my parent my father!" "or your inventor," replied the boy with a laugh. "yes, my son; i really believe i am!" "then i owe you obedience," continued the man, "and you owe me--support." "that's it, exactly", declared tip, jumping up. "so let us be off." "where are we going?" asked jack, when they had resumed their journey. "i'm not exactly sure," said the boy; "but i believe we are headed south, and that will bring us, sooner or later, to the emerald city." "what city is that?" enquired the pumpkinhead. "why, it's the center of the land of oz, and the biggest town in all the country. i've never been there, myself, but i've heard all about its 35 history. it was built by a mighty and wonderful wizard named oz, and everything there is of a green color--just as everything in this country of the gillikins is of a purple color." "is everything here purple?" asked jack. "of course it is. can't you see?" returned the boy. "i believe i must be color-blind," said the pumpkinhead, after staring about him. "well, the grass is purple, and the trees are purple, and the houses and fences are purple," explained tip. "even the mud in the roads is purple. but in the emerald city everything is green that is purple here. and in the country of the munchkins, over at the east, everything is blue; and in the south country of the quadlings everything is red; and in the west country of the winkies, where the tin woodman rules, everything is yellow." "oh!" said jack. then, after a pause, he asked: "did you say a tin woodman rules the winkies?" "yes; he was one of those who helped dorothy to destroy the wicked witch of the west, and the winkies were so grateful that they invited him to become their ruler,--just as the people of the emerald city invited the scarecrow to rule them." "dear me!" said jack. "i'm getting confused with all this history. who is the scarecrow?" 36 "another friend of dorothy's," replied tip. "and who is dorothy?" "she was a girl that came here from kansas, a place in the big, outside world. she got blown to the land of oz by a cyclone, and while she was here the scarecrow and the tin woodman accompanied her on her travels." "and where is she now?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "glinda the good, who rules the quadlings, sent her home again," said the boy. "oh. and what became of the scarecrow?" "i told you. he rules the emerald city," answered tip. "i thought you said it was ruled by a wonderful wizard," objected jack, seeming more and more confused. "well, so i did. now, pay attention, and i'll explain it," said tip, speaking slowly and looking the smiling pumpkinhead squarely in the eye. "dorothy went to the emerald city to ask the wizard to send her back to kansas; and the scarecrow and the tin woodman went with her. but the wizard couldn't send her back, because he wasn't so much of a wizard as he might have been. and then they got angry at the wizard, and threatened 37 to expose him; so the wizard made a big balloon and escaped in it, and no one has ever seen him since." "now, that is very interesting history," said jack, well pleased; "and i understand it perfectly all but the explanation." "i'm glad you do," responded tip. "after the wizard was gone, the people of the emerald city made his majesty, the scarecrow, their king; "and i have heard that he became a very popular ruler." "are we going to see this queer king?" asked jack, with interest. "i think we may as well," replied the boy; "unless you have something better to do." "oh, no, dear father," said the pumpkinhead. "i am quite willing to go wherever you please." line-art drawing 38 full page line-art drawing. 39 tip makes an experiment in magic the boy, small and rather delicate in appearance seemed somewhat embarrassed at being called "father" by the tall, awkward, pumpkinheaded man, but to deny the relationship would involve another long and tedious explanation; so he changed the subject by asking, abruptly: "are you tired?" "of course not!" replied the other. "but," he continued, after a pause, "it is quite certain i shall wear out my wooden joints if i keep on walking." tip reflected, as they journeyed on, that this was true. he began to regret that he had not constructed the wooden limbs more carefully and substantially. yet how could he ever have guessed 40 that the man he had made merely to scare old mombi with would be brought to life by means of a magical powder contained in an old pepper-box? so he ceased to reproach himself, and began to think how he might yet remedy the deficiencies of jack's weak joints. while thus engaged they came to the edge of a wood, and the boy sat down to rest upon an old sawhorse that some woodcutter had left there. "why don't you sit down?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "won't it strain my joints?" inquired the other. "of course not. it'll rest them," declared the boy. so jack tried to sit down; but as soon as he bent his joints farther than usual they gave way altogether, and he came clattering to the ground with such a crash that tip feared he was entirely ruined. line-art drawing along right side of this page 41 he rushed to the man, lifted him to his feet, straightened his arms and legs, and felt of his head to see if by chance it had become cracked. but jack seemed to be in pretty good shape, after all, and tip said to him: "i guess you'd better remain standing, hereafter. it seems the safest way." "very well, dear father." just as you say, replied the smiling jack, who had been in no wise confused by his tumble. tip sat down again. presently the pumpkinhead asked: "what is that thing you are sitting on?" "oh, this is a horse," replied the boy, carelessly. "what is a horse?" demanded jack. "a horse? why, there are two kinds of horses," returned tip, slightly puzzled how to explain. "one kind of horse is alive, and has four legs and a head and a tail. and people ride upon its back." "i understand," said jack, cheerfully "that's the kind of horse you are now sitting on." "no, it isn't," answered tip, promptly. "why not? that one has four legs, and a head, and a tail." tip looked at the saw-horse more carefully, and found that the pumpkinhead was right. the body 42 had been formed from a tree-trunk, and a branch had been left sticking up at one end that looked very much like a tail. in the other end were two big knots that resembled eyes, and a place had been chopped away that might easily be mistaken for the horse's mouth. as for the legs, they were four straight limbs cut from trees and stuck fast into the body, being spread wide apart so that the saw-horse would stand firmly when a log was laid across it to be sawed. "this thing resembles a real horse more than i imagined," said tip, trying to explain. "but a real horse is alive, and trots and prances and eats oats, while this is nothing more than a dead horse, made of wood, and used to saw logs upon." "if it were alive, wouldn't it trot, and prance, and eat oats?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "it would trot and prance, perhaps; but it wouldn't eat oats," replied the boy, laughing at the idea." and of course it can't ever be alive, because it is made of wood." "so am i," answered the man. tip looked at him in surprise. "why, so you are!" he exclaimed. "and the magic powder that brought you to life is here in my pocket." 43 full page line-art drawing. the magical powder of life 44 he brought out the pepper box, and eyed it curiously. "i wonder," said he, musingly, "if it would bring the saw-horse to life." "if it would," returned jack, calmly for nothing seemed to surprise him" i could ride on its back, and that would save my joints from wearing out." "i'll try it!" cried the boy, jumping up. "but i wonder if i can remember the words old mombi said, and the way she held her hands up." he thought it over for a minute, and as he had watched carefully from the hedge every motion of the old witch, and listened to her words, he believed he could repeat exactly what she had said and done. so he began by sprinkling some of the magic powder of life from the pepperbox upon the body of the saw-horse. then he lifted his left hand, with the little finger pointing upward, and said: "weaugh!" "what does that mean, dear father?" asked jack, curiously. "i don't know," answered tip. then he lifted his right hand, with the thumb pointing upward and said: "teaugh!" "what's that, dear father?" inquired jack. 45 "it means you must keep quiet!" replied the boy, provoked at being interrupted at so important a moment. "how fast i am learning!" remarked the pumpkinhead, with his eternal smile. tip now lifted both hands above his head, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried in a loud voice: "peaugh!" immediately the saw-horse moved, stretched its legs, yawned with its chopped-out mouth, and shook a few grains of the powder off its back. the rest of the powder seemed to have vanished into the body of the horse. "good!" called jack, while the boy looked on in astonishment. "you are a very clever sorcerer, dear father!" line-art drawing 46 full page line-art drawing. 47 the awakening of the saw-horse the saw-horse, finding himself alive, seemed even more astonished than tip. he rolled his knotty eyes from side to side, taking a first wondering view of the world in which he had now so important an existence. then he tried to look at himself; but he had, indeed, no neck to turn; so that in the endeavor to see his body he kept circling around and around, without catching even a glimpse of it. his legs were stiff and awkward, for there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently he bumped against jack pumpkinhead and sent that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined the roadside. 48 tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as at the persistence of the saw-horse in prancing around in a circle; so he called out: "whoa! whoa, there!" the saw-horse paid no attention whatever to this command, and the next instant brought one of his wooden legs down upon tip's foot so forcibly that the boy danced away in pain to a safer distance, from where he again yelled: "whoa! whoa, i say!" jack had now managed to raise himself to a sitting position, and he looked at the saw-horse with much interest. "i don't believe the animal can hear you," he remarked. "i shout loud enough, don't i?" answered tip, angrily. "yes; but the horse has no ears," said the smiling pumpkinhead. "sure enough!" exclaimed tip, noting the fact for the first time. "how, then, am i going to stop him?" but at that instant the saw-horse stopped himself, having concluded it was impossible to see his own body. he saw tip, however, and came close to the boy to observe him more fully. 49 it was really comical to see the creature walk; for it moved the legs on its right side together, and those on its left side together, as a pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle. tip patted it upon the head, and said "good boy! good boy!" in a coaxing tone; and the saw-horse pranced away to examine with its bulging eyes the form of jack pumpkinhead. "i must find a halter for him," said tip; and having made a search in his pocket he produced a roll of strong cord. unwinding this, he approached the saw-horse and tied the cord around its neck, afterward fastening the other end to a large tree. the saw-horse, not understanding the action, stepped backward and snapped the string easily; but it made no attempt to run away. "he's stronger than i thought," said the boy, "and rather obstinate, too." "why don't you make him some ears?" asked jack. "then you can tell him what to do." "that's a splendid idea!" said tip. "how did you happen to think of it?" "why, i didn't think of it," answered the pumpkinhead; "i didn't need to, for it's the simplest and easiest thing to do." 50 so tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a small tree. "i mustn't make them too big," he said, as he whittled, "or our horse would become a donkey." "how is that?" inquired jack, from the roadside. "why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a donkey has bigger ears than a horse," explained tip. "then, if my ears were longer, would i be a horse?" asked jack. "my friend," said tip, gravely, "you'll never be anything but a pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are." "oh," returned jack, nodding; "i think i understand." "if you do, you're a wonder," remarked the boy "but there's no harm in thinking you understand. i guess these ears are ready now. will you hold the horse while i stick them on?" "certainly, if you'll help me up," said jack. so tip raised him to his feet, and the pumpkinhead went to the horse and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade and inserted the ears. "they make him look very handsome," said jack, admiringly. 51 but those words, spoken close to the saw-horse, and being the first sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal that he made a bound forward and tumbled tip on one side and jack on the other. then he continued to rush forward as if frightened by the clatter of his own foot-steps. "whoa!" shouted tip, picking himself up; "whoa! you idiot whoa!" the sawhorse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just then it stepped a leg into a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically waving its four legs in the air. tip ran up to it. "you're a nice sort of a horse, i must say!" he exclaimed. "why didn't you stop when i yelled 'whoa?'" "does 'whoa' mean to stop?" asked the saw-horse, in a surprised voice, as it rolled its eyes upward to look at the boy. "of course it does," answered tip. "and a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn't it?" continued the horse. "to be sure; unless you step over it," said tip. "what a strange place this is," the creature exclaimed, as if amazed. "what am i doing here, anyway?" 52 full page line-art drawing. "do keep those legs still." 53 "why, i've brought you to life," answered the boy "but it won't hurt you any, if you mind me and do as i tell you." "then i will do as you tell me," replied the saw-horse, humbly. "but what happened to me, a moment ago? i don't seem to be just right, someway." "you're upside down," explained tip. "but just keep those legs still a minute and i'll set you right side up again." "how many sides have i?" asked the creature, wonderingly. "several," said tip, briefly. "but do keep those legs still." the saw-horse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that tip, after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright. "ah, i seem all right now," said the queer animal, with a sigh. "one of your ears is broken," tip announced, after a careful examination. "i'll have to make a new one." then he led the saw-horse back to where jack was vainly struggling to regain his feet, and after assisting the pumpkinhead to stand upright tip whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse's head. 54 "now," said he, addressing his steed, "pay attention to what i'm going to tell you. 'whoa!' means to stop; 'get-up!' means to walk forward; 'trot!' means to go as fast as you can. understand?" "i believe i do," returned the horse. "very good. we are all going on a journey to the emerald city, to see his majesty, the scarecrow; and jack pumpkinhead is going to ride on your back, so he won't wear out his joints." "i don't mind," said the saw-horse. "anything that suits you suits me." then tip assisted jack to get upon the horse. "hold on tight," he cautioned, "or you may fall off and crack your pumpkin head." "that would be horrible!" said jack, with a shudder. "what shall i hold on to?" "why, hold on to his ears," replied tip, after a moment's hesitation. "don't do that!" remonstrated the saw-horse; "for then i can't hear." that seemed reasonable, so tip tried to think of something else. "i'll fix it!" said he, at length. he went into the wood and cut a short length of limb from a young, stout tree. one end of this he sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of 55 full page line-art drawing. "does it hurt?" asked the boy 56 the saw-horse, just behind its head. next he brought a piece of rock from the road and hammered the post firmly into the animal's back. "stop! stop!" shouted the horse; "you're jarring me terribly." "does it hurt?" asked the boy. "not exactly hurt," answered the animal; "but it makes me quite nervous to be jarred." "well, it's all over now" said tip, encouragingly. "now, jack, be sure to hold fast to this post and then you can't fall off and get smashed." so jack held on tight, and tip said to the horse: "get up." the obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking from side to side as he raised his feet from the ground. tip walked beside the saw-horse, quite content with this addition to their party. presently he began to whistle. "what does that sound mean?" asked the horse. "don't pay any attention to it," said tip. "i'm just whistling, and that only means i'm pretty well satisfied." "i'd whistle myself, if i could push my lips together," remarked jack. "i fear, dear father, that in some respects i am sadly lacking." 57 after journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were following turned into a broad roadway, paved with yellow brick. by the side of the road tip noticed a sign-post that read: "nine miles to the emerald city." but it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. he led the sawhorse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the pumpkinhead to alight. "i think i'll lay you upon the ground, overnight," said the boy. "you will be safer that way." "how about me?" asked the saw-horse. "it won't hurt you to stand," replied tip; "and, as you can't sleep, you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us." then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the pumpkinhead, and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep. line-art drawing 58 full page line-art drawing. 59 jack pumpkinhead's ride to the emerald city at daybreak tip was awakened by the pumpkinhead. he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his bread and cheese. having thus prepared for a new day the boy said: "let us start at once. nine miles is quite a distance, but we ought to reach the emerald city by noon if no accidents happen." so the pumpkinhead was again perched upon the back of the saw-horse and the journey was resumed. tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to take on a greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the great city where the scarecrow ruled. 60 the little party had traveled but a short two miles upon their way when the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift river. tip was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man in a ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream. when the man reached the bank tip asked: "will you row us to the other side?" "yes, if you have money," returned the ferryman, whose face looked cross and disagreeable. "but i have no money," said tip. "none at all?" inquired the man. "none at all," answered the boy. "then i'll not break my back rowing you over," said the ferryman, decidedly. "what a nice man!" remarked the pumpkinhead, smilingly. the ferryman stared at him, but made no reply. tip was trying to think, for it was a great disappointment to him to find his journey so suddenly brought to an end. "i must certainly get to the emerald city," he said to the boatman; "but how can i cross the river if you do not take me?" the man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh. "that wooden horse will float," said he; "and 61 line-art drawing you can ride him across. as for the pumpkinheaded loon who accompanies you, let him sink or swim it won't matter greatly which." "don't worry about me," said jack, smiling pleasantly upon the crabbed ferryman; "i'm sure i ought to float beautifully." tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the saw-horse, who did not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. so the boy led it down into the water and climbed upon its back. jack also waded in up to his knees and 62 grasped the tail of the horse so that he might keep his pumpkin head above the water. "now," said tip, instructing the saw-horse, "if you wiggle your legs you will probably swim; and if you swim we shall probably reach the other side." the saw-horse at once began to wiggle its legs, which acted as oars and moved the adventurers slowly across the river to the opposite side. so successful was the trip that presently they were climbing, wet and dripping, up the grassy bank. tip's trouser-legs and shoes were thoroughly soaked; but the saw-horse had floated so perfectly that from his knees up the boy was entirely dry. as for the pumpkinhead, every stitch of his gorgeous clothing dripped water. "the sun will soon dry us," said tip "and, anyhow, we are now safely across, in spite of the ferryman, and can continue our journey. "i didn't mind swimming, at all," remarked the horse. "nor did i," added jack. they soon regained the road of yellow brick, which proved to be a continuation of the road they had left on the other side, and then tip once more mounted the pumpkinhead upon the back of the saw-horse. 63 "if you ride fast," said he, "the wind will help to dry your clothing. i will hold on to the horse's tail and run after you. in this way we all will become dry in a very short time." "then the horse must step lively," said jack. "i'll do my best," returned the saw-horse, cheerfully. tip grasped the end of the branch that served as tail to the saw-horse, and called loudly: "get-up!" the horse started at a good pace, and tip followed behind. then he decided they could go faster, so he shouted: "trot!" now, the saw-horse remembered that this word was the command to go as fast as he could; so he began rocking along the road at a tremendous pace, line-art drawing 64 and tip had hard work--running faster than he ever had before in his life--to keep his feet. soon he was out of breath, and although he wanted to call "whoa!" to the horse, he found he could not get the word out of his throat. then the end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing more than a dead branch, suddenly broke away, and the next minute the boy was rolling in the dust of the road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider dashed on and quickly disappeared in the distance. by the time tip had picked himself up and cleared the dust from his throat so he could say "whoa!" there was no further need of saying it, for the horse was long since out of sight. so he did the only sensible thing he could do. he sat down and took a good rest, and afterward began walking along the road. "some time i will surely overtake them," he reflected; "for the road will end at the gates of the emerald city, and they can go no further than that." meantime jack was holding fast to the post and the saw-horse was tearing along the road like a racer. neither of them knew tip was left behind, for the pumpkinhead did not look around and the saw-horse couldn't. as he rode, jack noticed that the grass and trees 65 had become a bright emerald-green in color, so he guessed they were nearing the emerald city even before the tall spires and domes came into sight. at length a high wall of green stone, studded thick with emeralds, loomed up before them; and fearing the saw-horse would not know enough to stop and so might smash them both against this wall, jack ventured to cry "whoa!" as loud as he could. so suddenly did the horse obey that had it not been for his post jack would have been pitched off head foremost, and his beautiful face ruined. "that was a fast ride, dear father!" he exclaimed; and then, hearing no reply, he turned around and discovered for the first time that tip was not there. this apparent desertion puzzled the pumpkinhead, and made him uneasy. and while he was wondering what had become of the boy, and what he ought to do next under such trying circumstances, the gateway in the green wall opened and a man came out. this man was short and round, with a fat face that seemed remarkably goodnatured. he was clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green hat upon his head and green spectacles over his eyes. bowing before the pumpkinhead he said: "i am the guardian of the gates of the emerald 66 city. may i inquire who you are, and what is your business?" "my name is jack pumpkinhead," returned the other, smilingly; "but as to my business, i haven't the least idea in the world what it is." the guardian of the gates looked surprised, and shook his head as if dissatisfied with the reply. "what are you, a man or a pumpkin?" he asked, politely. "both, if you please," answered jack. "and this wooden horse--is it alive?" questioned the guardian. the horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at jack. then it gave a prance and brought one leg down on the guardian's toes. "ouch!" cried the man; "i'm sorry i asked that question. but the answer is most convincing. have you any errand, sir, in the emerald city?" "it seems to me that i have," replied the pumpkinhead, seriously; "but i cannot think what it is. my father knows all about it, but he is not here." "this is a strange affair very strange!" declared the guardian. "but you seem harmless. folks do not smile so delightfully when they mean mischief." "as for that," said jack, "i cannot help my smile, for it is carved on my face with a jack-knife." 67 "well, come with me into my room," resumed the guardian, "and i will see what can be done for you." so jack rode the saw-horse through the gateway into a little room built into the wall. the guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very tall soldier--clothed in a green uniform--entered from the opposite door. this soldier carried a long green gun over his shoulder and had lovely green whiskers that fell quite to his knees. the guardian at once addressed him, saying: "here is a strange gentleman who doesn't know why he has come to the emerald city, or what he wants. tell me, what shall we do with him?" the soldier with the green whiskers looked at jack with much care and curiosity. finally he shook his head so positively that little waves rippled down his whiskers, and then he said: "i must take him to his majesty, the scarecrow." but what will his majesty, the scarecrow, do with him?" asked the guardian of the gates. "that is his majesty's business," returned the soldier. "i have troubles enough of my own. all outside troubles must be turned over to his majesty. so put the spectacles on this fellow, and i'll take him to the royal palace." 68 so the guardian opened a big box of spectacles and tried to fit a pair to jack's great round eyes. "i haven't a pair in stock that will really cover those eyes up," said the little man, with a sigh; "and your head is so big that i shall be obliged to tie the spectacles on." "but why need i wear spectacles?" asked jack. "it's the fashion here," said the soldier, "and they will keep you from being blinded by the glitter and glare of the gorgeous emerald city." "oh!" exclaimed jack. "tie them on, by all means. i don't wish to be blinded." "nor i!" broke in the saw-horse; so a pair of green spectacles was quickly fastened over the bulging knots that served it for eyes. then the soldier with the green whiskers led them through the inner gate and they at once found themselves in the main street of the magnificent emerald city. sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of the beautiful houses and the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds. even the green marble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a grand and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time. however, the pumpkinhead and the saw-horse, 69 knowing nothing of wealth and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw through their green spectacles. they calmly followed after the green soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of green people who stared at them in surprise. when a green dog ran out and barked at them the sawhorse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg and sent the little animal howling into one of the houses; but nothing more serious than this happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace. the pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight into the scarecrow's presence; but the soldier would not permit that. so jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant led the saw-horse around to the rear while the soldier with the green whiskers escorted the pumpkinhead into the palace, by the front entrance. the stranger was left in a handsomely furnished waiting room while the soldier went to announce him. it so happened that at this hour his majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of something to do, so he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room. jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting the ruler of this magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs. but when he en70 tered the room and saw for the first time his majesty the scarecrow seated upon his glittering throne, he stopped short in amazement. line-art drawing 71 his majesty the scarecrow i suppose every reader of this book knows what a scarecrow is; but jack pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at meeting the remarkable king of the emerald city than by any other one experience of his brief life. his majesty the scarecrow was dressed in a suit of faded blue clothes, and his head was merely a small sack stuffed with straw, upon which eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to represent a face. the clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly or carelessly that his majesty's legs and arms seemed more bumpy than was necessary. upon his hands were gloves with long fingers, and these were padded with cotton. wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch's 72 coat and also from his neck and boot-tops. upon his head he wore a heavy golden crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thoughtful expression to the painted face. indeed, the crown alone betokened majesty; in all else the scarecrow king was but a simple scarecrow--flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial. but if the strange appearance of his majesty the scarecrow seemed startling to jack, no less wonderful was the form of the pumpkinhead to the scarecrow. the purple trousers and pink waistcoat and red shirt hung loosely over the wooden joints tip had manufactured, and the carved face on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer considered life the jolliest thing imaginable. at first, indeed, his majesty thought his queer visitor was laughing at him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not without reason that the scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the wisest personage in the land of oz. he made a more careful examination of his visitor, and soon discovered that jack's features were carved into a smile and that he could not look grave if he wished to. the king was the first to speak. after regarding 73 line-art drawing jack for some minutes he said, in a tone of wonder: "where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?" "i beg your majesty's pardon," returned the pumpkinhead; "but i do not understand you." 74 "what don't you understand?" asked the scarecrow. "why, i don't understand your language. you see, i came from the country of the gillikins, so that i am a foreigner." "ah, to be sure!" exclaimed the scarecrow. "i myself speak the language of the munchkins, which is also the language of the emerald city. but you, i suppose, speak the language of the pumpkinheads?" "exactly so, your majesty" replied the other, bowing; "so it will be impossible for us to understand one another." "that is unfortunate, certainly," said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "we must have an interpreter." "what is an interpreter?" asked jack. "a person who understands both my language and your own. when i say anything, the interpreter can tell you what i mean; and when you say anything the interpreter can tell me what you mean. for the interpreter can speak both languages as well as understand them." "that is certainly clever," said jack, greatly pleased at finding so simple a way out of the difficulty. so the scarecrow commanded the soldier with the green whiskers to search among his people 75 until he found one who understood the language of the gillikins as well as the language of the emerald city, and to bring that person to him at once. when the soldier had departed the scarecrow said: "won't you take a chair while we are waiting?" "your majesty forgets that i cannot understand you," replied the pumpkinhead. "if you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to do so." the scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair to a position behind the pumpkinhead. then he gave jack a sudden push that sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awkward a fashion that he doubled up like a jackknife, and had hard work to untangle himself. "did you understand that sign?" asked his majesty, politely. "perfectly," declared jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head to the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that supported it. "you seem hastily made," remarked the scarecrow, watching jack's efforts to straighten himself. "not more so than your majesty," was the frank reply. "there is this difference between us," said the scarecrow, "that whereas i will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend." 76 full page line-art drawing. "he gave jack a sudden push" 77 at this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand. she seemed very sweet and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green eyes and hair. a dainty green silk skirt reached to her knees, showing silk stockings embroidered with pea-pods, and green satin slippers with bunches of lettuce for decorations instead of bows or buckles. upon her silken waist clover leaves were embroidered, and she wore a jaunty little jacket trimmed with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size. "why, it's little jellia jamb!" exclaimed the scarecrow, as the green maiden bowed her pretty head before him. "do you understand the language of the gillikins, my dear?" "yes, your majesty," she answered, "for i was born in the north country." "then you shall be our interpreter," said the scarecrow, "and explain to this pumpkinhead all that i say, and also explain to me all that he says. is this arrangement satisfactory?" he asked, turning toward his guest. "very satisfactory indeed," was the reply. "then ask him, to begin with," resumed the scarecrow, turning to jellia, "what brought him to the emerald city." but instead of this the girl, who had been staring at jack, said to him: 78 "you are certainly a wonderful creature. who made you?" "a boy named tip," answered jack. "what does he say?" inquired the scarecrow. "my ears must have deceived me. what did he say?" "he says that your majesty's brains seem to have come loose," replied the girl, demurely. the scarecrow moved uneasily upon his throne, and felt of his head with his left hand. "what a fine thing it is to understand two different languages," he said, with a perplexed sigh. "ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to being put in jail for insulting the ruler of the emerald city." "i didn't insult you!" protested jack, indignantly. "tut--tut!" cautioned the scarecrow "wait, until jellia translates my speech. what have we got an interpreter for, if you break out in this rash way?" "all right, i'll wait," replied the pumpkinhead, in a surly tone--although his face smiled as genially as ever. "translate the speech, young woman." "his majesty inquires if you are hungry, said jellia. "oh, not at all!" answered jack, more pleasantly, "for it is impossible for me to eat." "it's the same way with me," remarked the scarecrow. "what did he say, jellia, my dear?" 79 "he asked if you were aware that one of your eyes is painted larger than the other," said the girl, mischievously. "don't you believe her, your majesty, cried jack. "oh, i don't," answered the scarecrow, calmly. then, casting a sharp look at the girl, he asked: "are you quite certain you understand the languages of both the gillikins and the munchkins?" "quite certain, your majesty," said jellia jamb, trying hard not to laugh in the face of royalty. "then how is it that i seem to understand them myself?" inquired the scarecrow. "because they are one and the same!" declared the girl, now laughing merrily. "does not your majesty know that in all the land of oz but one language is spoken?" "is it indeed so?" cried the scarecrow, much relieved to hear this; "then i might easily have been my own interpreter!" "it was all my fault, your majesty," said jack, looking rather foolish, "i thought we must surely speak different languages, since we came from different countries." "this should be a warning to you never to think," returned the scarecrow, severely. "for 80 unless one can think wisely it is better to remain a dummy--which you most certainly are." "i am!--i surely am!" agreed the pumpkinhead. "it seems to me," continued the scarecrow, more mildly, "that your manufacturer spoiled some good pies to create an indifferent man." "i assure your majesty that i did not ask to be created," answered jack. "ah! it was the same in my case," said the king, pleasantly. "and so, as we differ from all ordinary people, let us become friends." "with all my heart!" exclaimed jack. "what! have you a heart?" asked the scarecrow, surprised. "no; that was only imaginative--i might say, a figure of speech," said the other. "well, your most prominent figure seems to be a figure of wood; so i must beg you to restrain an imagination which, having no brains, you have no right to exercise," suggested the scarecrow, warningly. "to be sure!" said jack, without in the least comprehending. his majesty then dismissed jellia jamb and the soldier with the green whiskers, and when they were gone he took his new friend by the arm and led him into the courtyard to play a game of quoits. 81 full page line-art drawing. 82 full page line-art drawing. 83 gen. jinjur's army of revolt tip was so anxious to rejoin his man jack and the saw-horse that he walked a full half the distance to the emerald city without stopping to rest. then he discovered that he was hungry and the crackers and cheese he had provided for the journey had all been eaten. while wondering what he should do in this emergency he came upon a girl sitting by the roadside. she wore a costume that struck the boy as being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being of emerald green and her skirt of four distinct colors--blue in front, yellow at the left side, red at the back and purple at the right side. fastening 84 the waist in front were four buttons--the top one blue, the next yellow, a third red and the last purple. line-art drawing the splendor of this dress was almost barbaric; so tip was fully justified in staring at the gown for some moments before his eyes were attracted by the 85 pretty face above it. yes, the face was pretty enough, he decided; but it wore an expression of discontent coupled to a shade of defiance or audacity. while the boy stared the girl looked upon him calmly. a lunch basket stood beside her, and she held a dainty sandwich in one hand and a hard-boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident appetite that aroused tip's sympathy. he was just about to ask a share of the luncheon when the girl stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. "there!" said she; "it is time for me to go. carry that basket for me and help yourself to its contents if you are hungry." tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat, following for a time the strange girl without bothering to ask questions. she walked along before him with swift strides, and there was about her an air of decision and importance that led him to suspect she was some great personage. finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran up beside her and tried to keep pace with her swift footsteps--a very difficult feat, for she was much taller than he, and evidently in a hurry. "thank you very much for the sandwiches," said tip, as he trotted along. "may i ask your name?" 86 "i am general jinjur," was the brief reply. "oh!" said the boy surprised. "what sort of a general?" "i command the army of revolt in this war," answered the general, with unnecessary sharpness. "oh!" he again exclaimed. "i didn't know there was a war." "you were not supposed to know it," she returned, "for we have kept it a secret; and considering that our army is composed entirely of girls," she added, with some pride, "it is surely a remarkable thing that our revolt is not yet discovered." "it is, indeed," acknowledged tip. "but where is your army?" "about a mile from here," said general jinjur. "the forces have assembled from all parts of the land of oz, at my express command. for this is the day we are to conquer his majesty the scarecrow, and wrest from him the throne. the army of revolt only awaits my coming to march upon the emerald city." "well!" declared tip, drawing a long breath, "this is certainly a surprising thing! may i ask why you wish to conquer his majesty the scarecrow?" "because the emerald city has been ruled by men long enough, for one reason," said the girl. 87 "moreover, the city glitters with beautiful gems, which might far better be used for rings, bracelets and necklaces; and there is enough money in the king's treasury to buy every girl in our army a dozen new gowns. so we intend to conquer the city and run the government to suit ourselves." jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and decision that proved she was in earnest. "but war is a terrible thing," said tip, thoughtfully. "this war will be pleasant," replied the girl, cheerfully. "many of you will be slain!" continued the boy, in an awed voice. "oh, no", said jinjur. "what man would oppose a girl, or dare to harm her? and there is not an ugly face in my entire army." tip laughed. "perhaps you are right," said he. "but the guardian of the gate is considered a faithful guardian, and the king's army will not let the city be conquered without a struggle." "the army is old and feeble," replied general jinjur, scornfully. "his strength has all been used to grow whiskers, and his wife has such a temper that she has already pulled more than half of them 88 out by the roots. when the wonderful wizard reigned the soldier with the green whiskers was a very good royal army, for people feared the wizard. but no one is afraid of the scarecrow, so his royal army don't count for much in time of war." after this conversation they proceeded some distance in silence, and before long reached a large clearing in the forest where fully four hundred young women were assembled. these were laughing and talking together as gaily as if they had gathered for a picnic instead of a war of conquest. they were divided into four companies, and tip noticed that all were dressed in costumes similar to that worn by general jinjur. the only real difference was that while those girls from the munchkin country had the blue strip in front of their skirts, those from the country of the quadlings had the red strip in front; and those from the country of the winkies had the yellow strip in front, and the gillikin girls wore the purple strip in front. all had green waists, representing the emerald city they intended to conquer, and the top button on each waist indicated by its color which country the wearer came from. the uniforms were jaunty and becoming, and quite effective when massed together. tip thought this strange army bore no weapons 89 whatever; but in this he was wrong. for each girl had stuck through the knot of her back hair two long, glittering knitting-needles. general jinjur immediately mounted the stump of a tree and addressed her army. "friends, fellow-citizens, and girls!" she said; "we are about to begin our great revolt against the men of oz! we march to conquer the emerald city--to dethrone the scarecrow king--to acquire thousands of gorgeous gems--to rifle the royal treasury--and to obtain power over our former oppressors!" "hurrah!" said those who had listened; but tip thought most of the army was too much engaged in chattering to pay attention to the words of the general. the command to march was now given, and the girls formed themselves into four bands, or companies, and set off with eager strides toward the emerald city. line-art drawing on the right of this page. 90 line-art drawing the boy followed after them, carrying several baskets and wraps and packages which various members of the army of revolt had placed in his care. it was not long before they came to the green granite walls of the city and halted before the gateway. 91 the guardian of the gate at once came out and looked at them curiously, as if a circus had come to town. he carried a bunch of keys swung round his neck by a golden chain; his hands were thrust carelessly into his pockets, and he seemed to have no idea at all that the city was threatened by rebels. speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said: "good morning, my dears! what can i do for you?" line-art drawing "surrender instantly!" answered general jinjur, standing before him and frowning as terribly as her pretty face would allow her to. "surrender!" echoed the man, astounded. "why, it's impossible. it's against the law! i never heard of such a thing in my life." 92 "still, you must surrender!" exclaimed the general, fiercely. "we are revolting!" "you don't look it," said the guardian, gazing from one to another, admiringly. "but we are!" cried jinjur, stamping her foot, impatiently; "and we mean to conquer the emerald city!" "good gracious!" returned the surprised guardian of the gates; "what a nonsensical idea! go home to your mothers, my good girls, and milk the cows and bake the bread. don't you know it's a dangerous thing to conquer a city?" "we are not afraid!" responded the general; and she looked so determined that it made the guardian uneasy. so he rang the bell for the soldier with the green whiskers, and the next minute was sorry he had done so. for immediately he was surrounded by a crowd of girls who drew the knitting-needles from their hair and began jabbing them at the guardian with the sharp points dangerously near his fat cheeks and blinking eyes. the poor man howled loudly for mercy and made no resistance when jinjur drew the bunch of keys from around his neck. followed by her army the general now rushed 93 full page line-art drawing. general jinjur and her army capture the city. 94 to the gateway, where she was confronted by the royal army of oz--which was the other name for the soldier with the green whiskers. "halt!" he cried, and pointed his long gun full in the face of the leader. some of the girls screamed and ran back, but general jinjur bravely stood her ground and said, reproachfully: "why, how now? would you shoot a poor, defenceless girl?" "no," replied the soldier, "for my gun isn't loaded." "not loaded?" "no; for fear of accidents. and i've forgotten where i hid the powder and shot to load it with. but if you'll wait a short time i'll try to hunt them up." "don't trouble yourself," said jinjur, cheerfully. then she turned to her army and cried: "girls, the gun isn't loaded!" "hooray," shrieked the rebels, delighted at this good news, and they proceeded to rush upon the soldier with the green whiskers in such a crowd that it was a wonder they didn't stick the knitting-needles into one another. but the royal army of oz was too much afraid 95 of women to meet the onslaught. he simply turned about and ran with all his might through the gate and toward the royal palace, while general jinjur and her mob flocked into the unprotected city. in this way was the emerald city captured without a drop of blood being spilled. the army of revolt had become an army of conquerors! line-art drawing 96 full page line-art drawing. 97 the scarecrow plans an escape tip slipped away from the girls and followed swiftly after the soldier with the green whiskers. the invading army entered the city more slowly, for they stopped to dig emeralds out of the walls and paving-stones with the points of their knitting-needles. so the soldier and the boy reached the palace before the news had spread that the city was conquered. the scarecrow and jack pumpkinhead were still playing at quoits in the courtyard when the game was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of the royal army of oz, who came flying in without his hat or gun, his clothes in sad disarray and his long beard floating a yard behind him as he ran. 98 "tally one for me," said the scarecrow, calmly "what's wrong, my man?" he added, addressing the soldier. "oh! your majesty--your majesty! the city is conquered!" gasped the royal army, who was all out of breath. "this is quite sudden," said the scarecrow. "but please go and bar all the doors and windows of the palace, while i show this pumpkinhead how to throw a quoit." the soldier hastened to do this, while tip, who had arrived at his heels, remained in the courtyard to look at the scarecrow with wondering eyes. his majesty continued to throw the quoits as coolly as if no danger threatened his throne, but the pumpkinhead, having caught sight of tip, ambled toward the boy as fast as his wooden legs would go. "good afternoon, noble parent!" he cried, delightedly. "i'm glad to see you are here. that terrible saw-horse ran away with me." "i suspected it," said tip. "did you get hurt? are you cracked at all?" "no, i arrived safely," answered jack, "and his majesty has been very kind indeed to me. at this moment the soldier with the green whiskers returned, and the scarecrow asked: 99 "by the way, who has conquered me?" "a regiment of girls, gathered from the four corners of the land of oz," replied the soldier, still pale with fear. "but where was my standing army at the time?" inquired his majesty, looking at the soldier, gravely. "your standing army was running," answered the fellow, honestly; "for no man could face the terrible weapons of the invaders." "well," said the scarecrow, after a moment's thought, "i don't mind much the loss of my throne, for it's a tiresome job to rule over the emerald city. and this crown is so heavy that it makes my head ache. but i hope the conquerors have no intention of injuring me, just because i happen to be the king." "i heard them, say" remarked tip, with some hesitation, "that they intend to make a rag carpet of your outside and stuff their sofa-cushions with your inside." "then i am really in danger," declared his majesty, positively, "and it will be wise for me to consider a means to escape." "where can you go?" asked jack pumpkinhead. "why, to my friend the tin woodman, who 100 line-art drawing rules over the winkies, and calls himself their emperor," was the answer. "i am sure he will protect me." tip was looking out the window. "the palace is surrounded by the enemy," said 101 he "it is too late to escape. they would soon tear you to pieces." the scarecrow sighed. "in an emergency," he announced, "it is always a good thing to pause and reflect. please excuse me while i pause and reflect." "but we also are in danger," said the pumpkinhead, anxiously. "if any of these girls understand cooking, my end is not far off!" "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow. "they're too busy to cook, even if they know how!" "but should i remain here a prisoner for any length of time," protested jack," i'm liable to spoil." "ah! then you would not be fit to associate with," returned the scarecrow. "the matter is more serious than i suspected." "you," said the pumpkinhead, gloomily, "are liable to live for many years. my life is necessarily short. so i must take advantage of the few days that remain to me." "there, there! don't worry," answered the scarecrow soothingly; "if you'll keep quiet long enough for me to think, i'll try to find some way for us all to escape." so the others waited in patient silence while the scarecrow walked to a corner and stood with his 102 face to the wall for a good five minutes. at the end of that time he faced them with a more cheerful expression upon his painted face. "where is the saw-horse you rode here?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "why, i said he was a jewel, and so your man locked him up in the royal treasury," said jack. "it was the only place i could think of your majesty," added the soldier, fearing he had made a blunder. "it pleases me very much," said the scarecrow. "has the animal been fed?" "oh, yes; i gave him a heaping peck of sawdust." "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "bring the horse here at once." the soldier hastened away, and presently they heard the clattering of the horse's wooden legs upon the pavement as he was led into the courtyard. his majesty regarded the steed critically. "he doesn't seem especially graceful!" he remarked, musingly. "but i suppose he can run?" "he can, indeed," said tip, gazing upon the saw-horse admiringly. "then, bearing us upon his back, he must make a dash through the ranks of the rebels and carry us to my friend the tin woodman," announced the scarecrow. 103 "he can't carry four!" objected tip. "no, but he may be induced to carry three," said his majesty. "i shall therefore leave my royal army behind. for, from the ease with which he was conquered, i have little confidence in his powers." "still, he can run," declared tip, laughing. "i expected this blow" said the soldier, sulkily; "but i can bear it. i shall disguise myself by cutting off my lovely green whiskers. and, after all, it is no more dangerous to face those reckless girls than to ride this fiery, untamed wooden horse!" "perhaps you are right," observed his majesty. "but, for my part, not being a soldier, i am fond of danger. now, my boy, you must mount first. and please sit as close to the horse's neck as possible." tip climbed quickly to his place, and the soldier and the scarecrow managed to hoist the pumpkinhead to a seat just behind him. there remained so little space for the king that he was liable to fall off as soon as the horse started. "fetch a clothesline," said the king to his army, "and tie us all together. then if one falls off we will all fall off." and while the soldier was gone for the clothesline his majesty continued, "it is well for me to be careful, for my very existence is in danger." 104 "i have to be as careful as you do," said jack. "not exactly," replied the scarecrow. "for if anything happened to me, that would be the end of me. but if anything happened to you, they could use you for seed." the soldier now returned with a long line and tied all three firmly together, also lashing them to the body of the saw-horse; so there seemed little danger of their tumbling off. "now throw open the gates," commanded the scarecrow, "and we will make a dash to liberty or to death." the courtyard in which they were standing was located in the center of the great palace, which surrounded it on all sides. but in one place a passage led to an outer gateway, which the soldier had barred by order of his sovereign. it was through this gateway his majesty proposed to escape, and the royal army now led the saw-horse along the passage and unbarred the gate, which swung backward with a loud crash. "now," said tip to the horse, "you must save us all. run as fast as you can for the gate of the city, and don't let anything stop you." "all right!" answered the saw-horse, gruffly, and dashed away so suddenly that tip had to gasp 105 full page line-art drawing. "we will make a dash to liberty or to death." 106 for breath and hold firmly to the post he had driven into the creature's neck. several of the girls, who stood outside guarding the palace, were knocked over by the saw-horse's mad rush. others ran screaming out of the way, and only one or two jabbed their knitting-needles frantically at the escaping prisoners. tip got one small prick in his left arm, which smarted for an hour afterward; but the needles had no effect upon the scarecrow or jack pumpkinhead, who never even suspected they were being prodded. as for the saw-horse, he made a wonderful record upsetting a fruit cart, overturning several meek looking men, and finally bowling over the new guardian of the gate--a fussy little fat woman appointed by general jinjur. nor did the impetuous charger stop then. once outside the walls of the emerald city he dashed along the road to the west with fast and violent leaps that shook the breath out of the boy and filled the scarecrow with wonder. jack had ridden at this mad rate once before, so he devoted every effort to holding, with both hands, his pumpkin head upon its stick, enduring meantime the dreadful jolting with the courage of a philosopher. 107 full page line-art drawing. the wooden steed gave one final leap 108 "slow him up! slow him up!" shouted the scarecrow. "my straw is all shaking down into my legs." but tip had no breath to speak, so the saw-horse continued his wild career unchecked and with unabated speed. presently they came to the banks of a wide river, and without a pause the wooden steed gave one final leap and launched them all in mid-air. a second later they were rolling, splashing and bobbing about in the water, the horse struggling frantically to find a rest for its feet and its riders being first plunged beneath the rapid current and then floating upon the surface like corks. line-art drawing 109 the journey to the tin woodman tip was well soaked and dripping water from every angle of his body. but he managed to lean forward and shout in the ear of the saw-horse: "keep still, you fool! keep still!" the horse at once ceased struggling and floated calmly upon the surface, its wooden body being as buoyant as a raft. "what does that word 'fool' mean?" enquired the horse. "it is a term of reproach," answered tip, somewhat ashamed of the expression. "i only use it when i am angry." "then it pleases me to be able to call you a fool, in return," said the horse. "for i did not make 110 the river, nor put it in our way; so only a term of, reproach is fit for one who becomes angry with me for falling into the water." "that is quite evident," replied tip; "so i will acknowledge myself in the wrong." then he called out to the pumpkinhead: "are you all right, jack?" there was no reply. so the boy called to the king "are you all right, your majesty?" the scarecrow groaned. "i'm all wrong, somehow," he said, in a weak voice. "how very wet this water is!" tip was bound so tightly by the cord that he could not turn his head to look at his companions; so he said to the saw-horse: "paddle with your legs toward the shore." the horse obeyed, and although their progress was slow they finally reached the opposite river bank at a place where it was low enough to enable the creature to scramble upon dry land. with some difficulty the boy managed to get his knife out of his pocket and cut the cords that bound the riders to one another and to the wooden horse. he heard the scarecrow fall to the ground with a mushy sound, and then he himself quickly dismounted and looked at his friend jack. the wooden body, with its gorgeous clothing, 111 still sat upright upon the horse's back; but the pumpkin head was gone, and only the sharpened stick that served for a neck was visible. as for the scarecrow, the straw in his body had shaken down with the jolting and packed itself into his legs and the lower part of his body--which appeared very plump and round while his upper half seemed like an empty sack. upon his head the scarecrow still wore the heavy crown, which had been sewed on to prevent his losing it; but the head was now so damp and limp that the weight of the gold and jewels sagged forward and crushed the painted face into a mass of wrinkles that made him look exactly like a japanese pug dog. tip would have laughed--had he not been so anxious about his man jack. but the scarecrow, however damaged, was all there, while the pumpkin head that was so necessary to jack's existence was missing; so the boy seized a long pole that fortunately lay near at hand and anxiously turned again toward the river. far out upon the waters he sighted the golden hue of the pumpkin, which gently bobbed up and down with the motion of the waves. at that moment it was quite out of tip's reach, but after a time it floated nearer and still nearer until the boy 112 full page line-art drawing. tip rescues jack's pumpkin head 113 was able to reach it with his pole and draw it to the shore. then he brought it to the top of the bank, carefully wiped the water from its pumpkin face with his handkerchief, and ran with it to jack and replaced the head upon the man's neck. "dear me!" were jack's first words. "what a dreadful experience! i wonder if water is liable to spoil pumpkins?" tip did not think a reply was necessary, for he knew that the scarecrow also stood in need of his help. so he carefully removed the straw from the king's body and legs, and spread it out in the sun to dry. the wet clothing he hung over the body of the saw-horse. "if water spoils pumpkins," observed jack, with a deep sigh, "then my days are numbered." "i've never noticed that water spoils pumpkins," returned tip; "unless the water happens to be boiling. if your head isn't cracked, my friend, you must be in fairly good condition." "oh, my head isn't cracked in the least," declared jack, more cheerfully. "then don't worry," retorted the boy. "care once killed a cat." "then," said jack, seriously, "i am very glad indeed that i am not a cat." 114 the sun was fast drying their clothing, and tip stirred up his majesty's straw so that the warm rays might absorb the moisture and make it as crisp and dry as ever. when this had been accomplished he stuffed the scarecrow into symmetrical shape and smoothed out his face so that he wore his usual gay and charming expression. "thank you very much," said the monarch, brightly, as he walked about and found himself to be well balanced. "there are several distinct advantages in being a scarecrow. for if one has friends near at hand to repair damages, nothing very serious can happen to you." "i wonder if hot sunshine is liable to crack pumpkins," said jack, with an anxious ring in his voice. "not at all--not at all!" replied the scarecrow, gaily." all you need fear, my boy, is old age. when your golden youth has decayed we shall quickly part company--but you needn't look forward to it; we'll discover the fact ourselves, and notify you. but come! let us resume our journey. i am anxious to greet my friend the tin woodman." so they remounted the saw-horse, tip holding to the post, the pumpkinhead clinging to tip, and the scarecrow with both arms around the wooden form of jack. 115 full page line-art drawing. tip stuffs the scarecrow with dry straw. 116 "go slowly, for now there is no danger of pursuit," said tip to his steed. "all right!" responded the creature, in a voice rather gruff. "aren't you a little hoarse?" asked the pumpkinhead politely. the saw-horse gave an angry prance and rolled one knotty eye backward toward tip. "see here," he growled, "can't you protect me from insult?" "to be sure!" answered tip, soothingly. "i am sure jack meant no harm. and it will not do for us to quarrel, you know; we must all remain good friends." "i'll have nothing more to do with that pumpkinhead," declared the sawhorse, viciously. "he loses his head too easily to suit me." there seemed no fitting reply to this speech, so for a time they rode along in silence. after a while the scarecrow remarked: "this reminds me of old times. it was upon this grassy knoll that i once saved dorothy from the stinging bees of the wicked witch of the west." "do stinging bees injure pumpkins?" asked jack, glancing around fearfully. "they are all dead, so it doesn't matter," replied 117 the scarecrow." and here is where nick chopper destroyed the wicked witch's grey wolves." "who was nick chopper?" asked tip. "that is the name of my friend the tin woodman, answered his majesty. and here is where the winged monkeys captured and bound us, and flew away with little dorothy," he continued, after they had traveled a little way farther. "do winged monkeys ever eat pumpkins?" asked jack, with a shiver of fear. "i do not know; but you have little cause to, worry, for the winged monkeys are now the slaves of glinda the good, who owns the golden cap that commands their services," said the scarecrow, reflectively. then the stuffed monarch became lost in thought recalling the days of past adventures. and the saw-horse rocked and rolled over the flower-strewn fields and carried its riders swiftly upon their way. * * * * * * * * * twilight fell, bye and bye, and then the dark shadows of night. so tip stopped the horse and they all proceeded to dismount. "i'm tired out," said the boy, yawning wearily; "and the grass is soft and cool. let us lie down here and sleep until morning." 118 "i can't sleep," said jack. "i never do," said the scarecrow. "i do not even know what sleep is," said the saw-horse. "still, we must have consideration for this poor boy, who is made of flesh and blood and bone, and gets tired," suggested the scarecrow, in his usual thoughtful manner. "i remember it was the same way with little dorothy. we always had to sit through the night while she slept." "i'm sorry," said tip, meekly, "but i can't help it. and i'm dreadfully hungry, too!" "here is a new danger!" remarked jack, gloomily. "i hope you are not fond of eating pumpkins." "not unless they're stewed and made into pies," answered the boy, laughing. "so have no fears of me, friend jack." "what a coward that pumpkinhead is!" said the saw-horse, scornfully. "you might be a coward yourself, if you knew you were liable to spoil!" retorted jack, angrily. "there!--there!" interrupted the scarecrow; "don't let us quarrel. we all have our weaknesses, dear friends; so we must strive to be considerate of one another. and since this poor boy is hungry and has nothing whatever to eat, let us all remain 119 quiet and allow him to sleep; for it is said that in sleep a mortal may forget even hunger." "thank you!" exclaimed tip, gratefully. "your majesty is fully as good as you are wise--and that is saying a good deal!" he then stretched himself upon the grass and, using the stuffed form of the scarecrow for a pillow, was presently fast asleep. line-art drawing 120 full page line-art drawing. 121 a nickel-plated emperor tip awoke soon after dawn, but the scarecrow had already risen and plucked, with his clumsy fingers, a double-handful of ripe berries from some bushes near by. these the boy ate greedily, finding them an ample breakfast, and afterward the little party resumed its journey. after an hour's ride they reached the summit of a hill from whence they espied the city of the winkies and noted the tall domes of the emperor's palace rising from the clusters of more modest dwellings. the scarecrow became greatly animated at this sight, and exclaimed: "how delighted i shall be to see my old friend the tin woodman again! i hope that he rules his people more successfully than i have ruled mine!" is the tin woodman the emperor of the winkies?" asked the horse. "yes, indeed. they invited him to rule over 122 them soon after the wicked witch was destroyed; and as nick chopper has the best heart in all the world i am sure he has proved an excellent and able emperor." "i thought that 'emperor' was the title of a person who rules an empire," said tip, "and the country of the winkies is only a kingdom." "don't mention that to the tin woodman!" exclaimed the scarecrow, earnestly. "you would hurt his feelings terribly. he is a proud man, as he has every reason to be, and it pleases him to be termed emperor rather than king." "i'm sure it makes no difference to me," replied the boy. the saw-horse now ambled forward at a pace so fast that its riders had hard work to stick upon its back; so there was little further conversation until they drew up beside the palace steps. an aged winkie, dressed in a uniform of silver cloth, came forward to assist them to alight. said the scarecrow to his personage: "show us at once to your master, the emperor." the man looked from one to another of the party in an embarrassed way, and finally answered: "i fear i must ask you to wait for a time. the emperor is not receiving this morning." 123 "how is that?" enquired the scarecrow, anxiously." i hope nothing has happened to him." "oh, no; nothing serious," returned the man. "but this is his majesty's day for being polished; and just now his august presence is thickly smeared with putz-pomade." "oh, i see!" cried the scarecrow, greatly reassured. "my friend was ever inclined to be a dandy, and i suppose he is now more proud than ever of his personal appearance." "he is, indeed," said the man, with a polite bow. "our mighty emperor has lately caused himself to be nickel-plated." "good gracious!" the scarecrow exclaimed at hearing this. "if his wit bears the same polish, how sparkling it must be! but show us in--i'm sure the emperor will receive us, even in his present state" "the emperor's state is always magnificent," said the man. "but i will venture to tell him of your arrival, and will receive his commands concerning you." so the party followed the servant into a splendid ante-room, and the sawhorse ambled awkwardly after them, having no knowledge that a horse might be expected to remain outside. 124 the travelers were at first somewhat awed by their surroundings, and even the scarecrow seemed impressed as he examined the rich hangings of silver cloth caught up into knots and fastened with tiny silver axes. upon a handsome center-table stood a large silver oil-can, richly engraved with scenes from the past adventures of the tin woodman, dorothy, the cowardly lion and the scarecrow: the lines of the engraving being traced upon the silver in yellow gold. on the walls hung several portraits, that of the scarecrow seeming to be the most prominent and carefully executed, while a the large painting of the famous wizard of oz, in act of presenting the tin woodman with a heart, covered almost one entire end of the room. while the visitors gazed at these things in silent admiration they suddenly heard a loud voice in the next room exclaim: "well! well! well! what a great surprise!" and then the door burst open and nick chopper rushed into their midst and caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace that creased him into many folds and wrinkles. "my dear old friend! my noble comrade!" cried the tin woodman, joyfully. "how delighted!," i am to meet you once again. 125 full page line-art drawing. caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace 126 and then he released the scarecrow and held him at arms' length while he surveyed the beloved, painted features. but, alas! the face of the scarecrow and many portions of his body bore great blotches of putz-pomade; for the tin woodman, in his eagerness to welcome his friend, had quite forgotten the condition of his toilet and had rubbed the thick coating of paste from his own body to that of his comrade. "dear me!" said the scarecrow dolefully. "what a mess i'm in!" "never mind, my friend," returned the tin woodman," i'll send you to my imperial laundry, and you'll come out as good as new." "won't i be mangled?" asked the scarecrow. "no, indeed!" was the reply. "but tell me, how came your majesty here? and who are your companions?" the scarecrow, with great politeness, introduced tip and jack pumpkinhead, and the latter personage seemed to interest the tin woodman greatly. "you are not very substantial, i must admit," said the emperor. "but you are certainly unusual, and therefore worthy to become a member of our select society." "i thank your majesty, said jack, humbly. 127 line-art drawing "i hope you are enjoying good health?" continued the woodman. "at present, yes;" replied the pumpkinhead, with a sigh; "but i am in constant terror of the day when i shall spoil." "nonsense!" said the emperor--but in a kindly, sympathetic tone. "do not, i beg of you, dampen today's sun with the showers of tomorrow. for before your head has time to spoil you can have it canned, and in that way it may be preserved indefinitely." tip, during this conversation, was looking at the woodman with undisguised amazement, and noticed that the celebrated emperor of the winkies was composed entirely of pieces of tin, neatly soldered 128 and riveted together into the form of a man. he rattled and clanked a little, as he moved, but in the main he seemed to be most cleverly constructed, and his appearance was only marred by the thick coating of polishing-paste that covered him from head to foot. the boy's intent gaze caused the tin woodman to remember that he was not in the most presentable condition, so he begged his friends to excuse him while he retired to his private apartment and allowed his servants to polish him. this was accomplished in a short time, and when the emperor returned his nickel-plated body shone so magnificently that the scarecrow heartily congratulated him on his improved appearance. "that nickel-plate was, i confess, a happy thought," said nick; "and it was the more necessary because i had become somewhat scratched during my adventurous experiences. you will observe this engraved star upon my left breast. it not only indicates where my excellent heart lies, but covers very neatly the patch made by the wonderful wizard when he placed that valued organ in my breast with his own skillful hands." "is your heart, then, a hand-organ?" asked the pumpkinhead, curiously. 129 "by no means," responded the emperor, with dignity. "it is, i am convinced, a strictly orthodox heart, although somewhat larger and warmer than most people possess." then he turned to the scarecrow and asked: "are your subjects happy and contented, my dear friend?" "i cannot, say" was the reply. "for the girls of oz have risen in revolt and driven me out of the emerald city." "great goodness!" cried the tin woodman, "what a calamity! they surely do not complain of your wise and gracious rule?" "no; but they say it is a poor rule that don't work both ways," answered the scarecrow; "and these females are also of the opinion that men have ruled the land long enough. so they have captured my city, robbed the treasury of all its jewels, and are running things to suit themselves." "dear me! what an extraordinary idea!" cried the emperor, who was both shocked and surprised. "and i heard some of them say," said tip, "that they intend to march here and capture the castle and city of the tin woodman." "ah! we must not give them time to do that," said the emperor, quickly; "we will go at once and 130 full page line-art drawing. renovating his majesty, the scarecrow. 131 recapture the emerald city and place the scarecrow again upon his throne." "i was sure you would help me," remarked the scarecrow in a pleased voice. "how large an army can you assemble?" "we do not need an army," replied the woodman. "we four, with the aid of my gleaming axe, are enough to strike terror into the hearts of the rebels." "we five," corrected the pumpkinhead. "five?" repeated the tin woodman. "yes; the saw-horse is brave and fearless," answered jack, forgetting his recent quarrel with the quadruped. the tin woodman looked around him in a puzzled way, for the saw-horse had until now remained quietly standing in a corner, where the emperor had not noticed him. tip immediately called the odd-looking creature to them, and it approached so awkwardly that it nearly upset the beautiful center-table and the engraved oil-can. "i begin to think," remarked the tin woodman as he looked earnestly at the saw-horse, "that wonders will never cease! how came this creature alive?" "i did it with a magic powder," modestly asserted the boy. "and the sawhorse has been very useful to us." 132 "he enabled us to escape the rebels," added the scarecrow. "then we must surely accept him as a comrade," declared the emperor. "a live saw-horse is a distinct novelty, and should prove an interesting study. does he know anything?" "well, i cannot claim any great experience in life," the saw-horse answered for himself. "but i seem to learn very quickly, and often it occurs to me that i know more than any of those around me." "perhaps you do," said the emperor; "for experience does not always mean wisdom. but time is precious just now, so let us quickly make preparations to start upon our journey. the emperor called his lord high chancellor and instructed him how to run the kingdom during his absence. meanwhile the scarecrow was taken apart and the painted sack that served him for a head was carefully laundered and restuffed with the brains originally given him by the great wizard. his clothes were also cleaned and pressed by the imperial tailors, and his crown polished and again sewed upon his head, for the tin woodman insisted he should not renounce this badge of royalty. the scarecrow now presented a very respectable appearance, and although in no way addicted to vanity he 133 was quite pleased with himself and strutted a trifle as he walked. while this was being done tip mended the wooden limbs of jack pumpkinhead and made them stronger than before, and the saw-horse was also inspected to see if he was in good working order. then bright and early the next morning they set out upon the return journey to the emerald city, the tin woodman bearing upon his shoulder a gleaming axe and leading the way, while the pumpkinhead rode upon the saw-horse and tip and the scarecrow walked upon either side to make sure that he didn't fall off or become damaged. line-art drawing 134 full page line-art drawing. 135 mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. now, general jinjur--who, you will remember, commanded the army of revolt--was rendered very uneasy by the escape of the scarecrow from the emerald city. she feared, and with good reason, that if his majesty and the tin woodman joined forces, it would mean danger to her and her entire army; for the people of oz had not yet forgotten the deeds of these famous heroes, who had passed successfully through so many startling adventures. so jinjur sent post-haste for old mombi, the witch, and promised her large rewards if she would come to the assistance of the rebel army. mombi was furious at the trick tip had played upon her as well as at his escape and the theft of the precious powder of life; so she needed no urging 136 to induce her to travel to the emerald city to assist jinjur in defeating the scarecrow and the tin woodman, who had made tip one of their friends. mombi had no sooner arrived at the royal palace than she discovered, by means of her secret magic, that the adventurers were starting upon their journey to the emerald city; so she retired to a small room high up in a tower and locked herself in while she practised such arts as she could command to prevent the return of the scarecrow and his companions. that was why the tin woodman presently stopped and said: "something very curious has happened. i ought to know by heart and every step of this journey, yet i fear we have already lost our way." "that is quite impossible!" protested the scarecrow. "why do you think, my dear friend, that we have gone astray?" "why, here before us is a great field of sunflowers--and i never saw this field before in all my life." at these words they all looked around, only to find that they were indeed surrounded by a field of tall stalks, every stalk bearing at its top a gigantic sunflower. and not only were these flowers almost 137 blinding in their vivid hues of red and gold, but each one whirled around upon its stalk like a miniature wind-mill, completely dazzling the vision of the beholders and so mystifying them that they knew not which way to turn. "it's witchcraft!" exclaimed tip. while they paused, hesitating and wondering, the tin woodman uttered a cry of impatience and advanced with swinging axe to cut down the stalks before him. but now the sunflowers suddenly stopped their rapid whirling, and the travelers plainly saw a girl's face appear in the center of each flower. these lovely faces looked upon the astonished band with mocking smiles, and then burst into a chorus of merry laughter at the dismay their appearance caused. "stop! stop!" cried tip, seizing the woodman's arm; "they're alive! they're girls!" at that moment the flowers began whirling again, and the faces faded away and were lost in the rapid revolutions. the tin woodman dropped his axe and sat down upon the ground. "it would be heartless to chop down those pretty creatures," said he, despondently. "and yet i do not know how else we can proceed upon our way" "they looked to me strangely like the faces of 138 the army of revolt," mused the scarecrow. "but i cannot conceive how the girls could have followed us here so quickly." "i believe it's magic," said tip, positively, "and that someone is playing a trick upon us. i've known old mombi do things like that before. probably it's nothing more than an illusion, and there are no sunflowers here at all." "then let us shut our eyes and walk forward," suggested the woodman. "excuse me," replied the scarecrow. "my eyes are not painted to shut. because you happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine we are all built in the same way." "and the eyes of the saw-horse are knot eyes," said jack, leaning forward to examine them. "nevertheless, you must ride quickly forward," commanded tip, "and we will follow after you and so try to escape. my eyes are already so dazzled that i can scarcely see." so the pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and tip grasped the stub tail of the saw-horse and followed with closed eyes. the scarecrow and the tin woodman brought up the rear, and before they had gone many yards a joyful shout from jack announced that the way was clear before them. 139 then all paused to look backward, but not a trace of the field of sunflowers remained. more cheerfully, now they proceeded upon their journey; but old mombi had so changed the appearance of the landscape that they would surely have been lost had not the scarecrow wisely concluded to take their direction from the sun. for no witch-craft could change the course of the sun, and it was therefore a safe guide. however, other difficulties lay before them. the saw-horse stepped into a rabbit hole and fell to the ground. the pumpkinhead was pitched high into the air, and his history would probably have ended at that exact moment had not the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin as it descended and saved it from injury. tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and replaced jack upon his feet. but the saw-horse did not escape so easily. for when his leg was pulled from the rabbit hole it was found to be broken short off, and must be replaced or repaired before he could go a step farther. "this is quite serious," said the tin woodman." if there were trees near by i might soon manufacture another leg for this animal; but i cannot see even a shrub for miles around." 140 full page line-art drawing. the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin 141 "and there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land of oz," added the scarecrow, disconsolately. "then what shall we do?" enquired the boy. "i suppose i must start my brains working," replied his majesty the scarecrow; "for experience has, taught me that i can do anything if i but take time to think it out." "let us all think," said tip; "and perhaps we shall find a way to repair the saw-horse." so they sat in a row upon the grass and began to think, while the saw-horse occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb. "does it hurt?" asked the tin woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice. "not in the least," returned the saw-horse; "but my pride is injured to find that my anatomy is so brittle." for a time the little group remained in silent thought. presently the tin woodman raised his head and looked over the fields. "what sort of creature is that which approaches us?" he asked, wonderingly. the others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward them the most extraordinary object they had ever beheld. it advanced quickly and 142 noiselessly over the soft grass and in a few minutes stood before the adventurers and regarded them with an astonishment equal to their own. the scarecrow was calm under all circumstances. "good morning!" he said, politely. the stranger removed his hat with a flourish, bowed very low, and then responded: line-art drawing "good morning, one and all. i hope you are, as an aggregation, enjoying excellent health. permit me to present my card." with this courteous speech it extended a card toward the scarecrow, who accepted it, turned it over and over, and handed it with a shake of his head to tip. the boy read aloud: "mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e." 143 "dear me!" ejaculated the pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently. "how very peculiar!" said the tin woodman. tip's eyes were round and wondering, and the saw-horse uttered a sigh and turned away its head. "are you really a woggle-bug?" enquired the scarecrow. "most certainly, my dear sir!" answered the stranger, briskly. "is not my name upon the card?" "it is," said the scarecrow. "but may i ask what 'h. m.' stands for?" "'h. m.' means highly magnified," returned the woggle-bug, proudly. "oh, i see." the scarecrow viewed the stranger critically. "and are you, in truth, highly magnified?" "sir," said the woggle-bug, "i take you for a gentleman of judgment and discernment. does it not occur to you that i am several thousand times greater than any woggle-bug you ever saw before? therefore it is plainly evident that i am highly magnified, and there is no good reason why you should doubt the fact." "pardon me," returned the scarecrow. "my brains are slightly mixed since i was last laundered. would it be improper for me to ask, also, what the 't.e.' at the end of your name stands for?" 144 "those letters express my degree," answered the woggle-bug, with a condescending smile. "to be more explicit, the initials mean that i am thoroughly educated." "oh!" said the scarecrow, much relieved. tip had not yet taken his eyes off this wonderful personage. what he saw was a great, round, buglike body supported upon two slender legs which ended in delicate feet--the toes curling upward. the body of the woggle-bug was rather flat, and judging from what could be seen of it was of a glistening dark brown color upon the back, while the front was striped with alternate bands of light brown and white, blending together at the edges. its arms were fully as slender as its legs, and upon a rather long neck was perched its head--not unlike the head of a man, except that its nose ended in a curling antenna, or "feeler," and its ears from the upper points bore antennae that decorated the sides of its head like two miniature, curling pig tails. it must be admitted that the round, black eyes were rather bulging in appearance; but the expression upon the woggle-bug's face was by no means unpleasant. for dress the insect wore a dark-blue swallowtail coat with a yellow silk lining and a flower in the button-hole; a vest of white duck that stretched 145 tightly across the wide body; knickerbockers of fawn-colored plush, fastened at the knees with gilt buckles; and, perched upon its small head, was jauntily set a tall silk hat. standing upright before our amazed friends the woggle-bug appeared to be fully as tall as the tin woodman; and surely no bug in all the land of oz had ever before attained so enormous a size. "i confess," said the scarecrow, "that your abrupt appearance has caused me surprise, and no doubt has startled my companions. i hope, however, that this circumstance will not distress you. we shall probably get used to you in time." "do not apologize, i beg of you!" returned the woggle-bug, earnestly. "it affords me great pleasure to surprise people; for surely i cannot be classed with ordinary insects and am entitled to both curiosity and admiration from those i meet." "you are, indeed," agreed his majesty. "if you will permit me to seat myself in your august company," continued the stranger, "i will gladly relate my history, so that you will be better able to comprehend my unusual--may i say remarkable?--appearance." "you may say what you please," answered the tin woodman, briefly. 146 so the woggle-bug sat down upon the grass, facing the little group of wanderers, and told them the following story: line-art drawing 147 a highly magnified history "it is but honest that i should acknowledge at the beginning of my recital that i was born an ordinary woggle-bug," began the creature, in a frank and friendly tone. "knowing no better, i used my arms as well as my legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid among the roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects smaller than myself to feed upon. "the chill nights rendered me stiff and motionless, for i wore no clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new life and restored me to activity. a horrible existence is this, but you must remember it is the regular ordained existence of woggle-bugs, as well as of many other tiny creatures that inhabit the earth. "but destiny had singled me out, humble though i was, for a grander fate! one day i crawled near 148 to a country school house, and my curiosity being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, i made bold to enter and creep along a crack between two boards until i reached the far end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat the master at his desk. "no one noticed so small a creature as a woggle-bug, and when i found that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine, i resolved to establish my future home beside it. so i found a charming nest between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months. "professor nowitall is, doubtless, the most famous scholar in the land of oz, and after a few days i began to listen to the lectures and discourses he gave his pupils. not one of them was more attentive than the humble, unnoticed woggle-bug, and i acquired in this way a fund of knowledge that i will myself confess is simply marvelous. that is why i place 't.e.' thoroughly educated upon my cards; for my greatest pride lies in the fact that the world cannot produce another woggle-bug with a tenth part of my own culture and erudition." "i do not blame you," said the scarecrow. "education is a thing to be proud of. i'm educated myself. the mess of brains given me by the great 149 wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled." "nevertheless," interrupted the tin woodman, "a good heart is, i believe, much more desirable than education or brains." "to me," said the saw-horse, "a good leg is more desirable than either." "could seeds be considered in the light of brains?" enquired the pumpkinhead, abruptly. "keep quiet!" commanded tip, sternly. "very well, dear father," answered the obedient jack. the woggle-bug listened patiently--even respectfully--to these remarks, and then resumed his story. "i must have lived fully three years in that secluded school-house hearth," said he, "drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of limpid knowledge before me." "quite poetical," commented the scarecrow, nodding his head approvingly. "but one, day" continued the bug, "a marvelous circumstance occurred that altered my very existence and brought me to my present pinnacle of greatness. the line-art drawing 150 professor discovered me in the act of crawling across the hearth, and before i could escape he had caught me between his thumb and forefinger. "'my dear children,' said he, 'i have captured a woggle-bug--a very rare and interesting specimen. do any of you know what a woggle-bug is?' "'no!' yelled the scholars, in chorus. "'then,' said the professor, 'i will get out my famous magnifying-glass and throw the insect upon a screen in a highly-magnified condition, that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction and become acquainted with its habits and manner of life.' "he then brought from a cupboard a most curious instrument, and before i could realize what had happened i found myself thrown upon a screen in a highly-magnified state--even as you now behold me. "the students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the sill of an open window where they could see more plainly. "'behold!' cried the professor, in a loud voice, 'this highly-magnified woggle-bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!' "being thoroughly educated, and knowing what is required of a cultured gentleman, at this juncture i stood upright and, placing my hand upon my 151 full page line-art drawing. "thee students stood up on their stools." 152 bosom, made a very polite bow. my action, being unexpected, must have startled them, for one of the little girls perched upon the window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the window, drawing her companion with her as she disappeared. "the professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed away through the door to see if the poor children were injured by the fall. the scholars followed after him in a wild mob, and i was left alone in the school-room, still in a highly-magnified state and free to do as i pleased. "it immediately occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to escape. i was proud of my great size, and realized that now i could safely travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would make me a fit associate for the most learned person i might chance to meet. "so, while the professor picked the little girls--who were more frightened than hurt--off the ground, and the pupils clustered around him closely grouped, i calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a corner, and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near" "wonderful!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead, admiringly. "it was, indeed," agreed the woggle-bug. "i 153 have never ceased to congratulate myself for escaping while i was highly magnified; for even my excess line-art drawing ive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had i remained a tiny, insignificant insect." "i didn't know before," said tip, looking at the 154 woggle-bug with a puzzled expression, "that insects wore clothes." "nor do they, in their natural state," returned the stranger. "but in the course of my wanderings i had the good fortune to save the ninth life of a tailor--tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably know. the fellow was exceedingly grateful, for had he lost that ninth life it would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to furnish me with the stylish costume i now wear. it fits very nicely, does it not?" and the woggle-bug stood up and turned himself around slowly, that all might examine his person. "he must have been a good tailor," said the scarecrow, somewhat enviously. "he was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate," observed nick chopper. "but where were you going, when you met us?" tip asked the woggle-bug. "nowhere in particular," was the reply, "although it is my intention soon to visit the emerald city and arrange to give a course of lectures to select audiences on the 'advantages of magnification.'" "we are bound for the emerald city now," said the tin woodman; "so, if it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company." 155 the woggle-bug bowed with profound grace. "it will give me great pleasure," said he "to accept your kind invitation; for nowhere in the land of oz could i hope to meet with so congenial a company." "that is true," acknowledged the pumpkinhead. "we are quite as congenial as flies and honey." "but--pardon me if i seem inquisitive--are you not all rather--ahem! rather unusual?" asked the woggle-bug, looking from one to another with unconcealed interest. "not more so than yourself," answered the scarecrow. "everything in life is unusual until you get accustomed to it." "what rare philosophy!" exclaimed the woggle-bug, admiringly. "yes; my brains are working well today," admitted the scarecrow, an accent of pride in his voice. "then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend our steps toward the emerald city," suggested the magnified one. "we can't," said tip. "the saw-horse has broken a leg, so he can't bend his steps. and there is no wood around to make him a new limb from. and we can't leave the horse behind because the pumpkinhead is so stiff in his joints that he has to ride." 156 "how very unfortunate!" cried the woggle-bug. then he looked the party over carefully and said: "if the pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a leg for the horse that carries him? i judge that both are made of wood." "now, that is what i call real cleverness," said the scarecrow, approvingly. "i wonder my brains did not think of that long ago! get to work, my dear nick, and fit the pumpkinhead's leg to the saw-horse." jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he submitted to having his left leg amputated by the tin woodman and whittled down to fit the left leg of the saw-horse. nor was the saw-horse especially pleased with the operation, either; for he growled a good deal about being "butchered," as he called it, and afterward declared that the new leg was a disgrace to a respectable saw-horse. "i beg you to be more careful in your speech," said the pumpkinhead, sharply. "remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing." "i cannot forget it," retorted the saw-horse, "for it is quite as flimsy as the rest of your person." "flimsy! me flimsy!" cried jack, in a rage. "how dare you call me flimsy?" "because you are built as absurdly as a jumping157 jack," sneered the horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. "even your head won't stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking backwards or forwards!" "friends, i entreat you not to quarrel!" pleaded the tin woodman, anxiously." as a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so let us bear with each others' faults." "an excellent suggestion," said the woggle-bug, approvingly. "you must have an excellent heart, my metallic friend." "i have," returned nick, well pleased. "my heart is quite the best part of me. but now let us start upon our journey. they perched the one-legged pumpkinhead upon the saw-horse, and tied him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off. and then, following the lead of the scarecrow, they all advanced in the direction of the emerald city. line-art drawing 158 full page line-art drawing. 159 old mombi indulges in witchcraft they soon discovered that the saw-horse limped, for his new leg was a trifle too long. so they were obliged to halt while the tin woodman chopped it down with his axe, after which the wooden steed paced along more comfortably. but the saw-horse was not entirely satisfied, even yet. "it was a shame that i broke my other leg!" it growled. "on the contrary," airily remarked the woggle-bug, who was walking alongside, "you should consider the accident most fortunate. for a horse is never of much use until he has been broken." "i beg your pardon," said tip, rather provoked, for he felt a warm interest in both the saw-horse and his man jack; "but permit me to say that your joke is a poor one, and as old as it is poor." 160 "still, it is a joke," declared the woggle-bug; firmly, "and a joke derived from a play upon words is considered among educated people to be eminently proper." "what does that mean?" enquired the pumpkinhead, stupidly. "it means, my dear friend," explained the woggle-bug, "that our language contains many words having a double meaning; and that to pronounce a joke that allows both meanings of a certain word, proves the joker a person of culture and refinement, who has, moreover, a thorough command of the language." "i don't believe that," said tip, plainly; "anybody can make a pun." "not so," rejoined the woggle-bug, stiffly. "it requires education of a high order. are you educated, young sir?" "not especially," admitted tip. "then you cannot judge the matter. i myself am thoroughly educated, and i say that puns display genius. for instance, were i to ride upon this sawhorse, he would not only be an animal he would become an equipage. for he would then be a horse-and-buggy." at this the scarecrow gave a gasp and the tin 161 woodman stopped short and looked reproachfully at the woggle-bug. at the same time the saw-horse loudly snorted his derision; and even the pumpkinhead put up his hand to hide the smile which, because it was carved upon his face, he could not change to a frown. but the woggle-bug strutted along as if he had made some brilliant remark, and the scarecrow was obliged to say: "i have heard, my dear friend, that a person can become over-educated; and although i have a high respect for brains, no matter how they may be arranged or classified, i begin to suspect that yours are slightly tangled. in any event, i must beg you to restrain your superior education while in our society." "we are not very particular," added the tin woodman; "and we are exceedingly kind hearted. but if your superior culture gets leaky again--" he did not complete the sentence, but he twirled his gleaming axe so carelessly that the woggle-bug looked frightened, and shrank away to a safe distance. the others marched on in silence, and the highly magnified one, after a period of deep thought, said in an humble voice: "i will endeavor to restrain myself." 162 "that is all we can expect," returned the scarecrow pleasantly; and good nature being thus happily restored to the party, they proceeded upon their way. when they again stopped to allow tip to rest--the boy being the only one that seemed to tire--the tin woodman noticed many small, round holes in the grassy meadow. "this must be a village of the field mice," he said to the scarecrow." i wonder if my old friend, the queen of the mice, is in this neighborhood." "if she is, she may be of great service to us," answered the scarecrow, who was impressed by a sudden thought. "see if you can call her, my dear nick." so the tin woodman blew a shrill note upon a silver whistle that hung around his neck, and presently a tiny grey mouse popped from a near-by hole and advanced fearlessly toward them. for the tin woodman had once saved her life, and the queen of the field mice knew he was to be trusted." "good day, your majesty, said nick, politely addressing the mouse; "i trust you are enjoying good health?" "thank you, i am quite well," answered the queen, demurely, as she sat up and displayed the tiny golden crown upon her head. "can i do anything to assist my old friends?" 163 "you can, indeed," replied the scarecrow, eagerly. "let me, i intreat you, take a dozen of your subjects with me to the emerald city." "will they be injured in any way?" asked the queen, doubtfully. "i think not," replied the scarecrow. "i will carry them hidden in the straw which stuffs my body, and when i give them the signal by unbuttoning my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper home again as fast as they can. by doing this they will assist me to regain my throne, which the army of revolt has taken from me." "in that case," said the queen, "i will not refuse your request. whenever you are ready, i will call twelve of my most intelligent subjects." "i am ready now" returned the scarecrow. then he lay flat upon the ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with which he was stuffed. the queen uttered a little piping call, and in an instant a dozen pretty field mice had emerged from their holes and stood before their ruler, awaiting her orders. what the queen said to them none of our travelers could understand, for it was in the mouse language; but the field mice obeyed without hesitation, 164 running one after the other to the scarecrow and hiding themselves in the straw of his breast. when all of the twelve mice had thus concealed themselves, the scarecrow buttoned his jacket securely and then arose and thanked the queen for her kindness. "one thing more you might do to serve us," suggested the tin woodman; "and that is to run ahead and show us the way to the emerald city. for some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it." "i will do that gladly," returned the queen. "are you ready?" the tin woodman looked at tip. "i'm rested," said the boy. "let us start." then they resumed their journey, the little grey queen of the field mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near, when away she would dart again. without this unerring guide the scarecrow and his comrades might never have gained the emerald city; for many were the obstacles thrown in their way by the arts of old mombi. yet not one of the obstacles really existed--all were cleverly contrived deceptions. for when they came to the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way the 165 little queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in safety; and our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water. again, a high wall of granite towered high above their heads and opposed their advance. but the grey field mouse walked straight through it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed it. afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow tip to rest, they saw forty roads branching off from their feet in forty different directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty wheel, first in one direction and then in the other, completely bewildering their vision. but the queen called for them to follow her and darted off in a straight line; and when they had gone a few paces the whirling pathways vanished and were seen no more. mombi's last trick was the most fearful of all. she sent a sheet of crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first time the scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly. "if that fire reaches me i will be gone in no time!" said he, trembling until his straw rattled. "it's the most dangerous thing i ever encountered." "i'm off, too!" cried the saw-horse, turning and 166 prancing with agitation; "for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings." "is fire dangerous to pumpkins?" asked jack, fearfully. "you'll be baked like a tart--and so will i!" line-art drawing answered the woggle-bug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster. but the tin woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede by a few sensible words. "look at the field mouse!" he shouted. "the fire does not burn her in the least. in fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception." 167 indeed, to watch the little queen march calmly through the advancing flames restored courage to every member of the party, and they followed her without being even scorched. "this is surely a most extraordinary adventure," said the woggle-bug, who was greatly amazed; "for it upsets all the natural laws that i heard professor nowitall teach in the school-house." "of course it does," said the scarecrow, wisely. "all magic is unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared and avoided. but i see before us the gates of the emerald city, so i imagine we have now overcome all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us." indeed, the walls of the city were plainly visible, and the queen of the field mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to bid them goodbye. "we are very grateful to your majesty for your kind assistance," said the tin woodman, bowing before the pretty creature. "i am always pleased to be of service to my friends," answered the queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home. 168 full page line-art drawing. 169 the prisoners of the queen approaching the gateway of the emerald city the travelers found it guarded by two girls of the army of revolt, who opposed their entrance by drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to prod the first that came near. but the tin woodman was not afraid." at the worst they can but scratch my beautiful nickel-plate," he said. "but there will be no 'worst,' for i think i can manage to frighten these absurd soldiers very easily. follow me closely, all of you!" then, swinging his axe in a great circle to right and left before him, he advanced upon the gate, and the others followed him without hesitation. the girls, who had expected no resistance whatever, were terrified by the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so that our 170 travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the green marble pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace. "at this rate we will soon have your majesty upon the throne again," said the tin woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards. "thank you, friend nick," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "nothing can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe." as they passed the rows of houses they saw through the open doors that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat around in groups, gossiping and laughing. "what has happened?" the scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along the sidewalk. "why, we've had a revolution, your majesty as you ought to know very well," replied the man; "and since you went away the women have been running things to suit themselves. i'm glad you have decided to come back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing out the strength of every man in the emerald city." "hm!" said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "if it 171 is such hard work as you say, how did the women manage it so easily?" "i really do not know" replied the man, with a deep sigh. "perhaps the women are made of castiron." no movement was made, as they passed along the street, to oppose their progress. several of the women stopped their gossip long enough to cast curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn away with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. and when they met with several girls belonging to the army of revolt, those soldiers, instead of being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of the way and allowed them to advance without protest. this action rendered the scarecrow uneasy." i'm afraid we are walking into a trap," said he. "nonsense!" returned nick chopper, confidently; "the silly creatures are conquered already!" but the scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed doubt, and tip said: "it's too easy, altogether. look out for trouble ahead." "i will," returned his majesty. unopposed they reached the royal palace and marched up the marble steps, which had once been 172 full page line-art drawing. "it's too easy, altogether." 173 thickly crusted with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels had been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the army of revolt. and so far not a rebel barred their way. through the arched hallways and into the magnificent throne room marched the tin woodman and his followers, and here, when the green silken curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight. seated within the glittering throne was general jinjur, with the scarecrow's second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in her right hand. a box of caramels, from which she was eating, rested in her lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal surroundings. the scarecrow stepped forward and confronted her, while the tin woodman leaned upon his axe and the others formed a half-circle back of his majesty's person. "how dare you sit in my throne?" demanded the scarecrow, sternly eyeing the intruder. "don't you know you are guilty of treason, and that there is a law against treason?" "the throne belongs to whoever is able to take it," answered jinjur, as she slowly ate another caramel. "i have taken it, as you see; so just now i am the queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of 174 treason, and must be punished by the law you have just mentioned." this view of the case puzzled the scarecrow. "how is it, friend nick?" he asked, turning to the tin woodman. "why, when it comes to law, i have nothing to, say" answered that personage. "for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is foolish to make the attempt." "then what shall we do?" asked the scarecrow, in dismay. "why don't you marry the queen? and then you can both rule," suggested the woggle-bug. jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. "why don't you send her back to her mother, where she belongs?" asked jack pumpkinhead. jinjur frowned. "why don't you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and promises to be good?" enquired tip. jinjur's lip curled scornfully. "or give her a good shaking!" added the saw-horse. "no," said the tin woodman, "we must treat the poor girl with gentleness. let us give her all the jewels she can carry, and send her away happy and contented." 175 at this queen jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute clapped her pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal. "you are very absurd creatures," said she; "but i am tired of your nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer." while the monarch and his friends listened in amazement to this impudent speech, a startling thing happened. the tin woodman's axe was snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and he found himself disarmed and helpless. at the same instant a shout of laughter rang in the ears of the devoted band, and turning to see whence this came they found themselves surrounded by the army of revolt, the girls bearing in either hand their glistening knitting-needles. the entire throne room seemed to be filled with the rebels, and the scarecrow and his comrades realized that they were prisoners. "you see how foolish it is to oppose a woman's wit," said jinjur, gaily; "and this event only proves that i am more fit to rule the emerald city than a scarecrow. i bear you no ill will, i assure you; but lest you should prove troublesome to me in the future i shall order you all to be destroyed. that is, all except the boy, who belongs to old mombi and must be restored to her keeping. the rest of 176 you are not human, and therefore it will not be wicked to demolish you. the saw-horse and the pumpkinhead's body i will have chopped up for kindlingwood; and the pumpkin shall be made into tarts. the scarecrow will do nicely to start a bonfire, and the tin man can be cut into small pieces and fed to the goats. as for this immense woggle-bug--" "highly magnified, if you please!" interrupted the insect. "i think i will ask the cook to make green-turtle soup of you," continued the queen, reflectively. the woggle-bug shuddered. "or, if that won't do, we might use you for a hungarian goulash, stewed and highly spiced," she added, cruelly. this programme of extermination was so terrible that the prisoners looked upon one another in a panic of fear. the scarecrow alone did not give way to despair. he stood quietly before the queen and his brow was wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape. while thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast move gently. at once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising his hand he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket. this action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd 177 of girls clustering about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny grey mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered line-art drawing away between the feet of the army of revolt. another mouse quickly followed; then another and another, in rapid succession. and suddenly such a 178 scream of terror went up from the army that it might easily have filled the stoutest heart with consternation. the flight that ensued turned to a stampede, and the stampede to a panic. for while the startled mice rushed wildly about the room the scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of feet as the girls disappeared from the palace--pushing and crowding one another in their mad efforts to escape. the queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. then a mouse ran up the cushions, and with a terrified leap poor jinjur shot clear over the head of the scarecrow and escaped through an archway--never pausing in her wild career until she had reached the city gates. so, in less time than i can explain, the throne room was deserted by all save the scarecrow and his friends, and the woggle-bug heaved a deep sigh of relief as he exclaimed: "thank goodness, we are saved!" "for a time, yes;" answered the tin woodman. "but the enemy will soon return, i fear." "let us bar all the entrances to the palace!" said the scarecrow. "then we shall have time to think what is best to be done." 179 so all except jack pumpkinhead, who was still tied fast to the saw-horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed the heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely. then, knowing that the army of revolt could not batter down the barriers in several days, the adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of war. line-art drawing 180 full page line-art drawing. 181 the scarecrow takes time to think "it seems to me," began the scarecrow, when all were again assembled in the throne room, "that the girl jinjur is quite right in claiming to be queen. and if she is right, then i am wrong, and we have no business to be occupying her palace." "but you were the king until she came," said the woggle-bug, strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; "so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of you." "especially as we have just conquered her and put her to flight," added the pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward the scarecrow. "have we really conquered her?" asked the scarecrow, quietly. "look out of the window, and tell me what you see." 182 tip ran to the window and looked out. "the palace is surrounded by a double row of girl soldiers," he announced. "i thought so," returned the scarecrow. "we are as truly their prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace." "my friend is right," said nick chopper, who had been polishing his breast with a bit of chamois-leather. "jinjur is still the queen, and we are her prisoners." "but i hope she cannot get at us," exclaimed the pumpkinhead, with a shiver of fear. "she threatened to make tarts of me, you know." "don't worry," said the tin woodman. "it cannot matter greatly. if you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. a good tart is far more admirable than a decayed intellect." "very true," agreed the scarecrow. "oh, dear!" moaned jack; "what an unhappy lot is mine! why, dear father, did you not make me out of tin--or even out of straw--so that i would keep indefinitely." "shucks!" returned tip, indignantly. "you ought to be glad that i made you at all." then he added, reflectively, "everything has to come to an end, some time." 183 "but i beg to remind you," broke in the woggle-bug, who had a distressed look in his bulging, round eyes, "that this terrible queen jinjur suggested making a goulash of me--me! the only highly magnified and thoroughly educated woggle-bug in the wide, wide world!" "i think it was a brilliant idea," remarked the scarecrow, approvingly. "don't you imagine he would make a better soup?" asked the tin woodman, turning toward his friend. "well, perhaps," acknowledged the scarecrow. the woggle-bug groaned. "i can see, in my mind's eye," said he, mournfully, "the goats eating small pieces of my dear comrade, the tin woodman, while my soup is being cooked on a bonfire built of the saw-horse and jack pumpkinhead's body, and queen jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend the scarecrow!" this morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party, making them restless and anxious. "it can't happen for some time," said the tin woodman, trying to speak cheerfully; "for we shall be able to keep jinjur out of the palace until she manages to break down the doors." 184 "and in the meantime i am liable to starve to death, and so is the wogglebug," announced tip. "as for me," said the woggle-bug, "i think that i could live for some time on jack pumpkinhead. not that i prefer pumpkins for food; but i believe they are somewhat nutritious, and jack's head is large and plump." "how heartless!" exclaimed the tin woodman, greatly shocked. "are we cannibals, let me ask? or are we faithful friends?" "i see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this palace," said the scarecrow, with decision. "so let us end this mournful talk and try to discover a means to escape." at this suggestion they all gathered eagerly around the throne, wherein was seated the scarecrow, and as tip sat down upon a stool there fell from his pocket a pepper-box, which rolled upon the floor. "what is this?" asked nick chopper, picking up the box. "be careful!" cried the boy. "that's my powder of life. don't spill it, for it is nearly gone." "and what is the powder of life?" enquired the scarecrow, as tip replaced the box carefully in his pocket. "it's some magical stuff old mombi got from a 185 crooked sorcerer," explained the boy. "she brought jack to life with it, and afterward i used it to bring the saw-horse to life. i guess it will make anything live that is sprinkled with it; but there's only about one dose left." "then it is very precious," said the tin woodman. "indeed it is," agreed the scarecrow. "it may prove our best means of escape from our difficulties. i believe i will think for a few minutes; so i will thank you, friend tip, to get out your knife and rip this heavy crown from my forehead." tip soon cut the stitches that had fastened the crown to the scarecrow's head, and the former monarch of the emerald city removed it with a sigh of relief and hung it on a peg beside the throne. "that is my last memento of royalty" said he; "and i'm glad to get rid of it. the former king of this city, line-art drawing 186 who was named pastoria, lost the crown to the wonderful wizard, who passed it on to me. now the girl jinjur claims it, and i sincerely hope it will not give her a headache." "a kindly thought, which i greatly admire," said the tin woodman, nodding approvingly. "and now i will indulge in a quiet think," continued the scarecrow, lying back in the throne. the others remained as silent and still as possible, so as not to disturb him; for all had great confidence in the extraordinary brains of the scarecrow. and, after what seemed a very long time indeed to the anxious watchers, the thinker sat up, looked upon his friends with his most whimsical expression, and said: "my brains work beautifully today. i'm quite proud of them. now, listen! if we attempt to escape through the doors of the palace we shall surely be captured. and, as we can't escape through the ground, there is only one other thing to be done. we must escape through the air!" he paused to note the effect of these words; but all his hearers seemed puzzled and unconvinced. "the wonderful wizard escaped in a balloon," he continued. "we don't know how to make a balloon, of course; but any sort of thing that can 187 fly through the air can carry us easily. so i suggest that my friend the tin woodman, who is a skillful mechanic, shall build some sort of a machine, with good strong wings, to carry us; and our friend tip can then bring the thing to life with his magical powder." "bravo!" cried nick chopper. "what splendid brains!" murmured jack. "really quite clever!" said the educated woggle-bug. "i believe it can be done," declared tip; "that is, if the tin woodman is equal to making the thing." "i'll do my best," said nick, cheerily; "and, as a matter of fact, i do not often fail in what i attempt. but the thing will have to be built on the roof of the palace, so it can rise comfortably into the air." line-art drawing 188 "to be sure," said the scarecrow. "then let us search through the palace," continued the tin woodman, "and carry all the material we can find to the roof, where i will begin my work." "first, however," said the pumpkinhead, "i beg you will release me from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. for in my present condition i am of no use to myself or to anyone else." so the tin woodman knocked a mahogany center-table to pieces with his axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved, on to the body of jack pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition. "it seems strange," said he, as he watched the tin woodman work, "that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me." "that proves you are unusual," returned the scarecrow. "and i am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. for the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed." "spoken like a philosopher!" cried the woggle-bug, as he assisted the tin woodman to set jack upon his feet. "how do you feel now?" asked tip, watching 189 the pumpkinhead stump around to try his new leg." as good as new" answered jack, joyfully, "and quite ready to assist you all to escape." "then let us get to work," said the scarecrow, in a business-like tone. so, glad to be doing anything that might lead to the end of their captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace in search of fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine. line-art drawing 190 full page line-art drawing. 191 the astonishing flight of the gump when the adventurers reassembled upon the roof it was found that a remarkably queer assortment of articles had been selected by the various members of the party. no one seemed to have a very clear idea of what was required, but all had brought something. the woggle-bug had taken from its position over the mantle-piece in the great hallway the head of a gump, which was adorned with wide-spreading antlers; and this, with great care and greater difficulty, the insect had carried up the stairs to the roof. this gump resembled an elk's head, only the nose turned upward in a saucy manner and there were whiskers 192 upon its chin, like those of a billy-goat. why the woggle-bug selected this article he could not have explained, except that it had aroused his curiosity. tip, with the aid of the saw-horse, had brought a large, upholstered sofa to the roof. it was an oldfashioned piece of furniture, with high back and ends, and it was so heavy that even by resting the greatest weight upon the back of the saw-horse, the boy found himself out of breath when at last the clumsy sofa was dumped upon the roof. the pumpkinhead had brought a broom, which was the first thing he saw. the scarecrow arrived with a coil of clothes-lines and ropes which he had taken from the courtyard, and in his trip up the stairs he had become so entangled in the loose ends of the ropes that both he and his burden tumbled in a heap upon the roof and might have rolled off if tip had not rescued him. the tin woodman appeared last. he also had been to the courtyard, where he had cut four great, spreading leaves from a huge palm-tree that was the pride of all the inhabitants of the emerald city. "my dear nick!" exclaimed the scarecrow, seeing what his friend had done; "you have been guilty of the greatest crime any person can commit in the emerald city. if i remember rightly, the 193 full page line-art drawing. all brought something to the roof. 194 penalty for chopping leaves from the royal palm-tree is to be killed seven times and afterward imprisoned for life." "it cannot be helped now" answered the tin woodman, throwing down the big leaves upon the roof. "but it may be one more reason why it is necessary for us to escape. and now let us see what you have found for me to work with." many were the doubtful looks cast upon the heap of miscellaneous material that now cluttered the roof, and finally the scarecrow shook his head and remarked: "well, if friend nick can manufacture, from this mess of rubbish, a thing that will fly through the air and carry us to safety, then i will acknowledge him to be a better mechanic than i suspected." but the tin woodman seemed at first by no means sure of his powers, and only after polishing his forehead vigorously with the chamois-leather did he resolve to undertake the task. "the first thing required for the machine," said he, "is a body big enough to carry the entire party. this sofa is the biggest thing we have, and might be used for a body. but, should the machine ever tip sideways, we would all slide off and fall to the ground." 195 "why not use two sofas?" asked tip. "there's another one just like this down stairs." "that is a very sensible suggestion," exclaimed the tin woodman. "you must fetch the other sofa at once." so tip and the saw-horse managed, with much labor, to get the second sofa to the roof; and when the two were placed together, edge to edge, the backs and ends formed a protecting rampart all around the seats. "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "we can ride within this snug nest quite at our ease." the two sofas were now bound firmly together with ropes and clothes-lines, and then nick chopper fastened the gump's head to one end. "that will show which is the front end of the thing," said he, greatly pleased with the idea." and, really, if you examine it critically, the gump looks very well as a figure-head. these great palm-leaves, for which i have endangered my life seven times, must serve us as wings." "are they strong enough?" asked the boy. "they are as strong as anything we can get," answered the woodman; "and although they are not in proportion to the thing's body, we are not in a position to be very particular." 196 so he fastened the palm-leaves to the sofas, two on each side. said the woggle-bug, with considerable admiration: "the thing is now complete, and only needs to be brought to life." "stop a moment!" exclaimed jack." are you not going to use my broom?" "what for?" asked the scarecrow. "why, it can be fastened to the back end for a tail," answered the pumpkinhead. "surely you would not call the thing complete without a tail." "hm!" said the tin woodman, "i do not see the use of a tail. we are not trying to copy a beast, or a fish, or a bird. all we ask of the thing is to carry us through the air. "perhaps, after the thing is brought to life, it can use a tail to steer with," suggested the scarecrow. "for if it flies through the air it will not be unlike a bird, and i've noticed that all birds have tails, which they use for a rudder while flying." "very well," answered nick, "the broom shall be used for a tail," and he fastened it firmly to the back end of the sofa body. tip took the pepper-box from his pocket. "the thing looks very big," said he, anxiously; 197 "and i am not sure there is enough powder left to bring all of it to life. but i'll make it go as far as possible." "put most on the wings," said nick chopper; "for they must be made as strong as possible." "and don't forget the head!" exclaimed the woggle-bug. "or the tail!" added jack pumpkinhead. "do be quiet," said tip, nervously; "you must give me a chance to work the magic charm in the proper manner." very carefully he began sprinkling the thing with the precious powder. each of the four wings was first lightly covered with a layer. then the sofas were sprinkled, and the broom given a slight coating. "the head! the head! don't, i beg of you, forget the head!" cried the woggle-bug, excitedly. "there's only a little of the powder left," announced tip, looking within the box." and it seems to me it is more important to bring the legs of the sofas to life than the head." "not so," decided the scarecrow. "every thing must have a head to direct it; and since this creature is to fly, and not walk, it is really unimportant whether its legs are alive or not." so tip abided by this decision and sprinkled the gump's head with the remainder of the powder. 198 "now" said he, "keep silence while i work the, charm!" having heard old mombi pronounce the magic words, and having also succeeded in bringing the saw-horse to life, tip did not hesitate an instant in speaking the three cabalistic words, each accompanied by the peculiar gesture of the hands. it was a grave and impressive ceremony. as he finished the incantation the thing shuddered throughout its huge bulk, the gump gave the screeching cry that is familiar to those animals, and then the four wings began flopping furiously. tip managed to grasp a chimney, else he would have been blown off the roof by the terrible breeze raised by the wings. the scarecrow, being light in weight, was caught up bodily and borne through the air until tip luckily seized him by one leg and held him fast. the woggle-bug lay flat upon the roof and so escaped harm, line-art drawing 199 and the tin woodman, whose weight of tin anchored him firmly, threw both arms around jack pumpkinhead and managed to save him. the saw-horse toppled over upon his back and lay with his legs waving helplessly above him. and now, while all were struggling to recover themselves, the thing rose slowly from the roof and mounted into the air. "here! come back!" cried tip, in a frightened voice, as he clung to the chimney with one hand and the scarecrow with the other. "come back at once, i command you!" it was now that the wisdom of the scarecrow, in bringing the head of the thing to life instead of the legs, was proved beyond a doubt. for the gump, already high in the air, turned its head at tip's command and gradually circled around until it could view the roof of the palace. "come back!" shouted the boy, again. and the gump obeyed, slowly and gracefully waving its four wings in the air until the thing had settled once more upon the roof and become still. 200 full page line-art drawing. 201 in the jackdaw's nest "this," said the gump, in a squeaky voice not at all proportioned to the size of its great body, "is the most novel experience i ever heard of. the last thing i remember distinctly is walking through the forest and hearing a loud noise. something probably killed me then, and it certainly ought to have been the end of me. yet here i am, alive again, with four monstrous wings and a body which i venture to say would make any respectable animal or fowl weep with shame to own. what does it all mean? am i a gump, or am i a juggernaut?" the creature, as it spoke, wiggled its chin whiskers in a very comical manner. "you're just a thing," answered tip, "with a gump's head on it. and we have made you and brought you to life so that you may carry us through the air wherever we wish to go." 202 "very good!" said the thing. "as i am not a gump, i cannot have a gump's pride or independent spirit. so i may as well become your servant as anything else. my only satisfaction is that i do not seem to have a very strong constitution, and am not likely to live long in a state of slavery." "don't say that, i beg of you!" cried the tin woodman, whose excellent heart was strongly affected by this sad speech." are you not feeling well today?" "oh, as for that," returned the gump, "it is my first day of existence; so i cannot judge whether i am feeling well or ill." and it waved its broom tail to and fro in a pensive manner. "come, come!" said the scarecrow, kindly. "do try, to be more cheerful and take life as you find it. we shall be kind masters, and will strive to render your existence as pleasant as possible. are you willing to carry us through the air wherever we wish to go?" "certainly," answered the gump. "i greatly prefer to navigate the air. for should i travel on the earth and meet with one of my own species, my embarrassment would be something awful!" "i can appreciate that," said the tin woodman, sympathetically. "and yet," continued the thing, "when i carefully 203 look you over, my masters, none of you seems to be constructed much more artistically than i am." "appearances are deceitful," said the woggle-bug, earnestly. "i am both highly magnified and thoroughly educated." "indeed!" murmured the gump, indifferently. "and my brains are considered remarkably rare specimens," added the scarecrow, proudly. "how strange!" remarked the gump. "although i am of tin," said the woodman, "i own a heart altogether the warmest and most admirable in the whole world." "i'm delighted to hear it," replied the gump, with a slight cough. "my smile," said jack pumpkinhead, "is worthy your best attention. it is always the same." "semper idem," explained the woggle-bug, pompously; and the gump turned to stare at him. "and i," declared the saw-horse, filling in an awkward pause, "am only remarkable because i can't help it." "i am proud, indeed, to meet with such exceptional masters," said the gump, in a careless tone. "if i could but secure so complete an introduction to myself, i would be more than satisfied." "that will come in time," remarked the scare204 crow. "to 'know thyself' is considered quite an accomplishment, which it has taken us, who are your elders, months to perfect. but now," he added, turning to the others, "let us get aboard and start upon our journey." "where shall we go?" asked tip, as he clambered to a seat on the sofas and assisted the pumpkinhead to follow him. "in the south country rules a very delightful queen called glinda the good, who i am sure will gladly receive us," said the scarecrow, getting into the thing clumsily. "let us go to her and ask her advice." "that is cleverly thought of," declared nick chopper, giving the woggle-bug a boost and then toppling the saw-horse into the rear end of the cushioned seats." i know glinda the good, and believe she will prove a friend indeed." "are we all ready?" asked the boy. "yes," announced the tin woodman, seating himself beside the scarecrow. "then," said tip, addressing the gump, "be kind enough to fly with us to the southward; and do not go higher than to escape the houses and trees, for it makes me dizzy to be up so far." "all right," answered the gump, briefly. 205 it flopped its four huge wings and rose slowly into the air; and then, while our little band of adventurers clung to the backs and sides of the sofas for support, the gump turned toward the south and soared swiftly and majestically away. "the scenic effect, from this altitude, is marvelous," commented the educated woggle-bug, as they rode along. "never mind the scenery," said the scarecrow. "hold on tight, or you may get a tumble. the thing seems to rock badly.' "it will be dark soon," said tip, observing that the sun was low on the horizon. "perhaps we should have waited until morning. i wonder if the gump can fly in the night." "i've been wondering that myself," returned the gump quietly. "you see, this is a new experience to me. i used to have legs that carried me swiftly over the ground. but now my legs feel as if they were asleep." "they are," said tip. "we didn't bring 'em to life." "you're expected to fly," explained the scarecrow. "not to walk." "we can walk ourselves," said the woggle-bug." i begin to understand what is required of me," remarked the gump; "so i will do my best to 206 please you," and he flew on for a time in silence. presently jack pumpkinhead became uneasy. "i wonder if riding through the air is liable to spoil pumpkins," he said. "not unless you carelessly drop your head over the side," answered the woggle-bug. "in that event your head would no longer be a pumpkin, for it would become a squash." "have i not asked you to restrain these unfeeling jokes?" demanded tip, looking at the woggle-bug with a severe expression. "you have; and i've restrained a good many of them," replied the insect. "but there are opportunities for so many excellent puns in our language that, to an educated person like myself, the temptation to express them is almost irresistible." "people with more or less education discovered those puns centuries ago," said tip. "are you sure?" asked the woggle-bug, with a startled look. "of course i am," answered the boy. "an educated woggle-bug may be a new thing; but a woggle-bug education is as old as the hills, judging from the display you make of it." the insect seemed much impressed by this remark, and for a time maintained a meek silence. 207 the scarecrow, in shifting his seat, saw upon the cushions the pepper-box which tip had cast aside, and began to examine it. "throw it overboard," said the boy; "it's quite empty now, and there's no use keeping it." "is it really empty?" asked the scarecrow, looking curiously into the box. "of course it is," answered tip. "i shook out every grain of the powder. "then the box has two bottoms," announced the scarecrow, "for the bottom on the inside is fully an inch away from the bottom on the outside." "let me see," said the tin woodman, taking the box from his friend. "yes," he declared, after looking it over, "the thing certainly has a false bottom. now, i wonder what that is for?" "can't you get it apart, and find out?" enquired tip, now quite interested in the mystery. "why, yes; the lower bottom unscrews," said the tin woodman. "my fingers are rather stiff; please see if you can open it." he handed the pepper-box to tip, who had no difficulty in unscrewing the bottom. and in the cavity below were three silver pills, with a carefully folded paper lying underneath them. this paper the boy proceeded to unfold, taking 208 care not to spill the pills, and found several lines clearly written in red ink. "read it aloud," said the scarecrow. so tip read, as follows: "dr. nikidik's celebrated wishing pills. "directions for use: swallow one pill; count seventeen by twos; then make a wish. -the wish will immediately be granted. caution: keep in a dry and dark place." "why, this is a very valuable discovery!" cried the scarecrow. "it is, indeed," replied tip, gravely. "these pills may be of great use to us. i wonder if old mombi knew they were in the bottom of the pepper-box. i remember hearing her say that she got the powder of life from this same nikidik." "he must be a powerful sorcerer!" exclaimed the tin woodman; "and since the powder proved a success we ought to have confidence in the pills." "but how," asked the scarecrow, "can anyone count seventeen by twos? seventeen is an odd number." "that is true," replied tip, greatly disappointed. "no one can possibly count seventeen by twos." "then the pills are of no use to us," wailed the pumpkinhead; "and this fact overwhelms me with 209 grief. for i had intended wishing that my head would never spoil." "nonsense!" said the scarecrow, sharply. "if we could use the pills at all we would make far better wishes than that." "i do not see how anything could be better," protested poor jack. "if you were liable to spoil at any time you could understand my anxiety." "for my part," said the tin woodman, "i sympathize with you in every respect. but since we cannot count seventeen by twos, sympathy is all you are liable to get." by this time it had become quite dark, and the voyagers found above them a cloudy sky, through which the rays of the moon could not penetrate. the gump flew steadily on, and for some reason the huge sofa-body rocked more and more dizzily every hour. the woggle-bug declared he was sea-sick; and tip was also pale and somewhat distressed. but the others clung to the backs of the sofas and did not seem to mind the motion as long as they were not tipped out. darker and darker grew the night, and on and on sped the gump through the black heavens. the 210 travelers could not even see one another, and an oppressive silence settled down upon them. after a long time tip, who had been thinking deeply, spoke. "how are we to know when we come to the pallace of glinda the good?" he asked. "it's a long way to glinda's palace," answered the woodman; "i've traveled it." "but how are we to know how fast the gump is flying?" persisted the boy. "we cannot see a single thing down on the earth, and before morning we may be far beyond the place we want to reach." "that is all true enough," the scarecrow replied, a little uneasily. "but i do not see how we can stop just now; for we might alight in a river, or on, the top of a steeple; and that would be a great disaster." so they permitted the gump to fly on, with regular flops of its great wings, and waited patiently for morning. then tip's fears were proven to be well founded; for with the first streaks of gray dawn they looked over the sides of the sofas and discovered rolling plains dotted with queer villages, where the houses, instead of being domeshaped--as they all are in the land of oz--had slanting roofs that rose to a peak 211 in the center. odd looking animals were also moving about upon the open plains, and the country was unfamiliar to both the tin woodman and the scarecrow, who had formerly visited glinda the good's domain and knew it well. "we are lost!" said the scarecrow, dolefully. "the gump must have carried us entirely out of the land of oz and over the sandy deserts and into the terrible outside world that dorothy told us about." "we must get back," exclaimed the tin woodman, earnestly. "we must get back as soon as possible!" "turn around!" cried tip to the gump. "turn as quickly as you can!" "if i do i shall upset," answered the gump. "i'm not at all used to flying, and the best plan would be for me to alight in some place, and then i can turn around and take a fresh start." just then, however, there seemed to be no stopping-place that would answer their purpose. they flew over a village so big that the woggle-bug declared it was a city. and then they came to a range of high mountains with many deep gorges and steep cliffs showing plainly. "now is our chance to stop," said the boy, finding 212 they were very close to the mountain tops. then he turned to the gump and commanded: "stop at the first level place you see!" "very well," answered the gump, and settled down upon a table of rock that stood between two cliffs. but not being experienced in such matters, the gump did not judge his speed correctly; and instead of coming to a stop upon the flat rock he missed it by half the width of his body, breaking off both his right wings against the sharp edge of the rock and then tumbling over and over down the cliff. our friends held on to the sofas as long as they could, but when the gump caught on a projecting rock the thing stopped suddenly--bottom side up--and all were immediately dumped out. by good fortune they fell only a few feet; for underneath them was a monster nest, built by a colony of jackdaws in a hollow ledge of rock; so none of them--not even the pumpkinhead--was injured by the fall. for jack found his precious head resting on the soft breast of the scarecrow, which made an excellent cushion; and tip fell on a mass of leaves and papers, which saved him from injury. the woggle-bug had bumped his round head against 213 full page line-art drawing. all were immediately dumped out. 214 the saw-horse, but without causing him more than a moment's inconvenience. the tin woodman was at first much alarmed; but finding he had escaped without even a scratch upon his beautiful nickle-plate he at once regained his accustomed cheerfulness and turned to address his comrades. "our journey had ended rather suddenly," said he; "and we cannot justly blame our friend the gump for our accident, because he did the best he could under the circumstances. but how we are ever to escape from this nest i must leave to someone with better brains than i possess." here he gazed at the scarecrow; who crawled to the edge of the nest and looked over. below them was a sheer precipice several hundred feet in depth. above them was a smooth cliff unbroken save by the point of rock where the wrecked body of the gump still hung suspended from the end of one of the sofas. there really seemed to be no means of escape, and as they realized their helpless plight the little band of adventurers gave way to their bewilderment. "this is a worse prison than the palace," sadly remarked the woggle-bug. "i wish we had stayed there," moaned jack. 215 "i'm afraid the mountain air isn't good for pumpkins." "it won't be when the jackdaws come back," growled the saw-horse, which lay waving its legs in a vain endeavor to get upon its feet again. "jackdaws are especially fond of pumpkins." "do you think the birds will come here?" asked jack, much distressed. "of course they will," said tip; "for this is their nest. and there must be hundreds of them," he continued, "for see what a lot of things they have brought here!" indeed, the nest was half filled with a most curious collection of small articles for which the birds could have no use, but which the thieving jackdaws had stolen during many years from the homes of men. and as the nest was safely hidden where no human being could reach it, this lost property would never be recovered. the woggle-bug, searching among the rubbish--for the jackdaws stole useless things as well as valuable ones--turned up with his foot a beautiful diamond necklace. this was so greatly admired by the tin woodman that the woggle-bug presented it to him with a graceful speech, after which the woodman hung it around his neck with much pride, 216 full page line-art drawing. turned up a beautiful diamond necklace. 217 rejoicing exceedingly when the big diamonds glittered in the sun's rays. but now they heard a great jabbering and flopping of wings, and as the sound grew nearer to them tip exclaimed: "the jackdaws are coming! and if they find us here they will surely kill us in their anger." "i was afraid of this!" moaned the pumpkinhead. "my time has come!" "and mine, also!" said the woggle-bug; "for jackdaws are the greatest enemies of my race." the others were not at all afraid; but the scarecrow at once decided to save those of the party who were liable to be injured by the angry birds. so he commanded tip to take off jack's head and lie down with it in the bottom of the nest, and when this was done he ordered the woggle-bug to lie beside tip. nick chopper, who knew from past experience just what to do, then took the scarecrow to pieces (all except his head) and scattered the straw over tip and the woggle-bug, completely covering their bodies. hardly had this been accomplished when the flock of jackdaws reached them. perceiving the intruders in their nest the birds flew down upon them with screams of rage. 218 full page line-art drawing. 219 dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills the tin woodman was usually a peaceful man, but when occasion required he could fight as fiercely as a roman gladiator. so, when the jackdaws nearly knocked him down in their rush of wings, and their sharp beaks and claws threatened to damage his brilliant plating, the woodman picked up his axe and made it whirl swiftly around his head. but although many were beaten off in this way, the birds were so numerous and so brave that they continued the attack as furiously as before. some of them pecked at the eyes of the gump, which hung over the nest in a helpless condition; but the gump's eyes were of glass and could not be injured. others of the jackdaws rushed at the saw-horse; but that animal, being still upon his back, kicked out so viciously with his wooden legs that he beat off as many assailants as did the woodman's axe. 220 finding themselves thus opposed, the birds fell upon the scarecrow's straw, which lay at the center of the nest, covering tip and the woggle-bug and jack's pumpkin head, and began tearing it away and flying off with it, only to let it drop, straw by straw into the great gulf beneath. the scarecrow's head, noting with dismay this wanton destruction of his interior, cried to the tin woodman to save him; and that good friend responded with renewed energy. his axe fairly flashed among the jackdaws, and fortunately the gump began wildly waving the two wings remaining on the left side of its body. the flutter of these great wings filled the jackdaws with terror, and when the gump by its exertions freed itself from the peg of rock on which it hung, and sank flopping into the nest, the alarm of the birds knew no bounds and they fled screaming over the mountains. when the last foe had disappeared, tip crawled from under the sofas and assisted the woggle-bug to follow him. "we are saved!" shouted the boy, delightedly. "we are, indeed!" responded the educated insect, fairly hugging the stiff head of the gump in his joy. "and we owe it all to the flopping of the thing, and the good axe of the woodman!" 221 "if i am saved, get me out of here!" called jack; whose head was still beneath the sofas; and tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place it upon its neck again. he also set the saw-horse upright, and said to it: "we owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made." "i really think we have escaped very nicely," remarked the tin woodman, in a tone of pride. "not so!" exclaimed a hollow voice. at this they all turned in surprise to look at the scarecrow's head, which lay at the back of the nest. "i am completely ruined!" declared the scarecrow, as he noted their astonishment. "for where is the straw that stuffs my body?" the awful question startled them all. they gazed around the nest with horror, for not a vestige of straw remained. the 222 jackdaws had stolen it to the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that yawned for hundreds of feet beneath the nest. "my poor, poor friend!" said the tin woodman, taking up the scarecrow's head and caressing it tenderly; "whoever could imagine you would come to this untimely end?" "i did it to save my friends," returned the head; "and i am glad that i perished in so noble and unselfish a manner." "but why are you all so despondent?" inquired the woggle-bug. "the scarecrow's clothing is still safe." "yes," answered the tin woodman; "but our friend's clothes are useless without stuffing." "why not stuff him with money?" asked tip. "money!" they all cried, in an amazed chorus. "to be sure," said the boy. "in the bottom of the nest are thousands of dollar bills--and two-dollar bills--and five-dollar bills--and tens, and twenties, and fifties. there are enough of them to stuff a dozen scarecrows. why not use the money?" the tin woodman began to turn over the rubbish with the handle of his axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only worthless papers were found to be all bills of various denominations, 223 which the mischievous jackdaws had for years been engaged in stealing from the villages and cities they visited. there was an immense fortune lying in that inaccessible nest; and tip's suggestion was, with the scarecrow's consent, quickly acted upon. they selected all the newest and cleanest bills and assorted them into various piles. the scarecrow's left leg and boot were stuffed with fivedollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten-dollar bills, and his body so closely filled with fifties, one-hundreds and one-thousands that he could scarcely button his jacket with comfort. "you are now" said the woggle-bug, impressively, when the task had been completed, "the most valuable member of our party; and as you line-art drawing 224 are among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent." "thank you," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "i feel like a new man; and although at first glance i might be mistaken for a safety deposit vault, i beg you to remember that my brains are still composed of the same old material. and these are the possessions that have always made me a person to be depended upon in an emergency." "well, the emergency is here," observed tip; "and unless your brains help us out of it we shall be compelled to pass the remainder of our lives in this nest." "how about these wishing pills?" enquired the scarecrow, taking the box from his jacket pocket. "can't we use them to escape?" "not unless we can count seventeen by twos," answered the tin woodman. "but our friend the woggle-bug claims to be highly educated, so he ought easily to figure out how that can be done." "it isn't a question of education," returned the insect; "it's merely a question of mathematics. i've seen the professor work lots of sums on the blackboard, and he claimed anything could be done with x's and y's and a's, and such things, by mixing them up with plenty of plusses and minuses and equals, and so forth. but he never said anything, so far as 225 i can remember, about counting up to the odd number of seventeen by the even numbers of twos." "stop! stop!" cried the pumpkinhead. "you're making my head ache." "and mine," added the scarecrow. "your mathematics seem to me very like a bottle of mixed pickles the more you fish for what you want the less chance you have of getting it. i am certain that if the thing can be accomplished at all, it is in a very simple manner." "yes," said tip. "old mombi couldn't use x's and minuses, for she never went to school." "why not start counting at a half of one?" asked the saw-horse, abruptly. "then anyone can count up to seventeen by twos very easily." they looked at each other in surprise, for the saw-horse was considered the most stupid of the entire party. "you make me quite ashamed of myself," said the scarecrow, bowing low to the saw-horse. "nevertheless, the creature is right," declared the woggle-bug; for twice one-half is one, and if you get to one it is easy to count from one up to seventeen by twos." "i wonder i didn't think of that myself," said the pumpkinhead. 226 "i don't," returned the scarecrow. "you're no wiser than the rest of us, are you? but let us make a wish at once. who will swallow the first pill?" "suppose you do it," suggested tip. "i can't," said the scarecrow. "why not? you've a mouth, haven't you?" asked the boy. "yes; but my mouth is painted on, and there's no swallow connected with it,' answered the scarecrow. "in fact," he continued, looking from one to another critically, "i believe the boy and the woggle-bug are the only ones in our party that are able to swallow." observing the truth of this remark, tip said: "then i will undertake to make the first wish. give me one of the silver pills." this the scarecrow tried to do; but his padded gloves were too clumsy to clutch so small an object, and he held the box toward the boy while tip selected one of the pills and swallowed it. "count!" cried the scarecrow. "one-half, one, three, five, seven, nine, eleven,!" counted tip. thirteen, fifteen, seventeen. "now wish!" said the tin woodman anxiously: but just then the boy began to suffer such fearful pains that he became alarmed. 227 "the pill has poisoned me!" he gasped; "o--h! o-o-o-o-o! ouch! murder! fire! o-o-h!" and here he rolled upon the bottom of the nest in such contortions that he frightened them all. "what can we do for you. speak, i beg!" entreated the tin woodman, tears of sympathy running down his nickel cheeks. "i--i don't know!" answered tip. "o--h! i wish i'd never swallowed that pill!" then at once the pain stopped, and the boy rose to his feet again and found the scarecrow looking with amazement at the end of the pepper-box. "what's happened?" asked the boy, a little ashamed of his recent exhibition. "why, the three pills are in the box again!" said the scarecrow. "of course they are," the woggle-bug declared. "didn't tip wish that he'd never swallowed one of them? well, the wish came true, and he didn't swallow one of them. so of course they are all three in the box." "that may be; but the pill gave me a dreadful pain, just the same," said the boy. "impossible!" declared the woggle line-art drawing 228 bug. "if you have never swallowed it, the pill can not have given you a pain. and as your wish, being granted, proves you did not swallow the pill, it is also plain that you suffered no pain." "then it was a splendid imitation of a pain," retorted tip, angrily. "suppose you try the next pill yourself. we've wasted one wish already." "oh, no, we haven't!" protested the scarecrow. "here are still three pills in the box, and each pill is good for a wish." "now you're making my head ache," said tip. "i can't understand the thing at all. but i won't take another pill, i promise you!" and with this remark he retired sulkily to the back of the nest. "well," said the woggle-bug, "it remains for me to save us in my most highly magnified and thoroughly educated manner; for i seem to be the only one able and willing to make a wish. let me have one of the pills." he swallowed it without hesitation, and they all stood admiring his courage while the insect counted seventeen by twos in the same way that tip had done. and for some reason--perhaps because woggle-bugs have stronger stomachs than boys--the silver pellet caused it no pain whatever. "i wish the gump's broken wings mended, and 229 as good as new!" said the woggle-bug, in a slow; impressive voice. all turned to look at the thing, and so quickly had the wish been granted that the gump lay before them in perfect repair, and as well able to fly through the air as when it had first been brought to life on the roof of the palace. line-art drawing 230 full page line-art drawing. 231 the scarecrow appeals to glinda the good "hooray!" shouted the scarecrow, gaily. "we can now leave this miserable jackdaws' nest whenever we please." "but it is nearly dark," said the tin woodman; "and unless we wait until morning to make our flight we may get into more trouble. i don't like these night trips, for one never knows what will happen." so it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers amused themselves in the twilight by searching the jackdaws' nest for treasures. the woggle-bug found two handsome bracelets of wrought gold, which fitted his slender arms very well. the scarecrow took a fancy for rings, of which there were many in the nest. before long he 232 had fitted a ring to each finger of his padded gloves, and not being content with that display he added one more to each thumb. as he carefully chose those rings set with sparkling stones, such as rubies, amethysts and sapphires, the scarecrow's hands now presented a most brilliant appearance. "this nest would be a picnic for queen jinjur," said he, musingly. "for as nearly as i can make out she and her girls conquered me merely to rob my city of its emeralds." the tin woodman was content with his diamond necklace and refused to accept any additional decorations; but tip secured a fine gold watch, which was attached to a heavy fob, and placed it in his pocket with much pride. he also pinned several jeweled brooches to jack pumpkinhead's red waistcoat, and attached a lorgnette, by means of a fine chain, to the neck of the saw-horse. "it's very pretty," said the creature, regarding the lorgnette approvingly; "but what is it for?" none of them could answer that question, however; so the saw-horse decided it was some rare decoration and became very fond of it. that none of the party might be slighted, they ended by placing several large seal rings upon the points of the gump's antlers, although that odd 233 personage seemed by no means gratified by the attention. darkness soon fell upon them, and tip and the woggle-bug went to sleep while the others sat down to wait patiently for the day. next morning they had cause to congratulate themselves upon the useful condition of the gump; for with daylight a great flock of jackdaws approached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest. but our adventurers did not wait for the assault. they tumbled into the cushioned seats of the sofas as quickly as possible, and tip gave the word to the gump to start. at once it rose into the air, the great wings flopping strongly and with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the nest that the chattering jackdaws took possession without any attempt at pursuit. the thing flew due north, going in the same direction from whence it had come. at least, that was the scarecrow's opinion, and the others agreed that the scarecrow was the best judge of direction. after passing over several cities and villages the gump carried them high above a broad plain where houses became more and more scattered until they 234 disappeared altogether. next came the wide, sandy desert separating the rest of the world from the land of oz, and before noon they saw the dome-shaped houses that proved they were once more within the borders of their native land. "but the houses and fences are blue," said the tin woodman, "and that indicates we are in the land of the munchkins, and therefore a long distance from glinda the good." "what shall we do?" asked the boy, turning to their guide. "i don't know" replied the scarecrow, frankly. "if we were at the emerald city we could then move directly southward, and so reach our destination. but we dare not go to the emerald city, and the gump is probably carrying us further in the wrong direction with every flop of its wings." "then the woggle-bug must swallow another pill," said tip, decidedly, "and wish us headed in the right direction." "very well," returned the highly magnified one; "i'm willing." but when the scarecrow searched in his pocket for the pepper-box containing the two silver wishing pills, it was not to be found. filled with anxiety, the voyagers hunted throughout every inch of the 235 thing for the precious box; but it had disappeared entirely. and still the gump flew onward, carrying them they knew not where. "i must have left the pepper-box in the jackdaws' nest," said the scarecrow, at length. "it is a great misfortune," the tin woodman declared. "but we are no worse off than before we discovered the wishing pills." "we are better off," replied tip. "for the one pill we used has enabled us to escape from that horrible nest." "yet the loss of the other two is serious, and i deserve a good scolding for my carelessness," the scarecrow rejoined, penitently. "for in such an unusual party as this accidents are liable to happen any moment, and even now we may be approaching a new danger." no one dared contradict this, and a dismal silence ensued. the gump flew steadily on. suddenly tip uttered an exclamation of surprise. "we must have reached the south country," he cried, "for below us everything is red!" immediately they all leaned over the backs of the sofas to look--all except jack, who was too careful 236 of his pumpkin head to risk its slipping off his neck. sure enough; the red houses and fences and trees indicated they were within the domain of glinda the good; and presently, as they glided rapidly on, the tin woodman recognized the roads and buildings they passed, and altered slightly the flight of line-art drawing 237 the gump so that they might reach the palace of the celebrated sorceress. "good!" cried the scarecrow, delightedly. "we do not need the lost wishing pills now, for we have arrived at our destination." gradually the thing sank lower and nearer to the ground until at length it came to rest within the beautiful gardens of glinda, settling upon a velvety green lawn close by a fountain which sent sprays of flashing gems, instead of water, high into the air, whence they fell with a soft, tinkling sound into the carved marble basin placed to receive them. everything was very gorgeous in glinda's gardens, and while our voyagers gazed about with admiring eyes a company of soldiers silently appeared and surrounded them. but these soldiers of the great sorceress were entirely different from those of jinjur's army of revolt, although they were likewise girls. for glinda's soldiers wore neat uniforms and bore swords and spears; and they marched with a skill and precision that proved them well trained in the arts of war. the captain commanding this troop--which was glinda's private body guard--recognized the scarecrow and the tin woodman at once, and greeted them with respectful salutations. 238 "good day!" said the scarecrow, gallantly removing his hat, while the woodman gave a soldierly salute; "we have come to request an audience with your fair ruler." "glinda is now within her palace, awaiting you," returned the captain; "for she saw you coming long before you arrived." "that is strange!" said tip, wondering. "not at all," answered the scarecrow, "for glinda the good is a mighty sorceress, and nothing that goes on in the land of oz escapes her notice. i suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves." "then what was the use of our coming?" asked jack, stupidly. "to prove you are a pumpkinhead!" retorted the scarecrow. "but, if the sorceress expects us, we must not keep her waiting." line-art drawing 239 so they all clambered out of the sofas and followed the captain toward the palace--even the saw-horse taking his place in the queer procession. upon her throne of finely wrought gold sat glinda, and she could scarcely repress a smile as her peculiar visitors entered and bowed before her. both the scarecrow and the tin woodman she knew and liked; but the awkward pumpkinhead and highly magnified woggle-bug were creatures she had never seen before, and they seemed even more curious than the others. as for the saw-horse, he looked to be nothing more than an animated chunk of wood; and he bowed so stiffly that his head bumped against the floor, causing a ripple of laughter among the soldiers, in which glinda frankly joined. "i beg to announce to your glorious highness," began the scarecrow, in a solemn voice, "that my emerald city has been overrun by a crowd of impudent girls with knitting-needles, who have enslaved all the men, robbed the streets and public buildings of all their emerald jewels, and usurped my throne." "i know it," said glinda. "they also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good friends and allies you see before you," continued the scarecrow. "and had we not managed 240 to escape their clutches our days would long since have ended." "i know it," repeated glinda. "therefore i have come to beg your assistance," resumed the scarecrow, "for i believe you are always glad to succor the unfortunate and oppressed." "that is true," replied the sorceress, slowly. "but the emerald city is now ruled by general jinjur, who has caused herself to be proclaimed queen. what right have i to oppose her?" "why, she stole the throne from me," said the scarecrow. "and how came you to possess the throne?" asked glinda. "i got it from the wizard of oz, and by the choice of the people," returned the scarecrow, uneasy at such questioning. "and where did the wizard get it?" she continued gravely. "i am told he took it from pastoria, the former king," said the scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the sorceress. "then," declared glinda, "the throne of the emerald city belongs neither to you nor to jinjur, but to this pastoria from whom the wizard usurped it." "that is true," acknowledged the scarecrow, 241 humbly; "but pastoria is now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place." "pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of the emerald city. did you know that?" questioned the sorceress. "no," replied the scarecrow. "but if the girl still lives i will not stand in her way. it will satisfy me as well to have jinjur turned out, as an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. in fact, it isn't much fun to be king, especially if one has good brains. i have known for some time that i am fitted to occupy a far more exalted position. but where is the girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?" "her name is ozma," answered glinda. "but where she is i have tried in vain to discover. for the wizard of oz, when he stole the throne from ozma's father, hid the girl in some secret place; and by means of a magical trick with which i am not familiar he also managed to prevent her being discovered--even by so experienced a sorceress as myself." "that is strange," interrupted the woggle-bug, pompously. "i have been informed that the wonderful wizard of oz was nothing more than a humbug!" 242 "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow, much provoked by this speech. "didn't he give me a wonderful set of brains?" "there's no humbug about my heart," announced the tin woodman, glaring indignantly at the woggle-bug. "perhaps i was misinformed," stammered the insect, shrinking back; "i never knew the wizard personally." "well, we did," retorted the scarecrow, "and he was a very great wizard, i assure you. it is true he was guilty of some slight impostures, but unless he was a great wizard how--let me ask--could he have hidden this girl ozma so securely that no one can find her?" "i--i give it up!" replied the woggle-bug, meekly. "that is the most sensible speech you've made," said the tin woodman. "i must really make another effort to discover where this girl is hidden," resumed the sorceress, thoughtfully. "i have in my library a book in which is inscribed every action of the wizard while he was in our land of oz--or, at least, every action that could be observed by my spies. this book i will read carefully tonight, and try to single out the acts that may guide us in discovering the lost ozma. in 243 the meantime, pray amuse yourselves in my palace and command my servants as if they were your own. i will grant you another audience tomorrow." with this gracious speech glinda dismissed the adventurers, and they wandered away through the beautiful gardens, where they passed several hours enjoying all the delightful things with which the queen of the southland had surrounded her royal palace. on the following morning they again appeared before glinda, who said to them: "i have searched carefully through the records of the wizard's actions, and among them i can find but three that appear to have been suspicious. he ate beans with a knife, made three secret visits to old mombi, and limped slightly on his left foot." "ah! that last is certainly suspicious!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead. "not necessarily," said the scarecrow. "he may, have had corns. now, it seems to me his eating beans with a knife is more suspicious." "perhaps it is a polite custom in omaha, from which great country the wizard originally came," suggested the tin woodman. "it may be," admitted the scarecrow. 244 "but why," asked glinda, "did he make three secret visits to old mombi?" "ah! why, indeed!" echoed the woggle-bug, impressively. "we know that the wizard taught the old woman many of his tricks of magic," continued glinda; "and this he would not have done had she not assisted him in some way. so we may suspect with good reason that mombi aided him to hide the girl ozma, who was the real heir to the throne of the emerald city, and a constant danger to the usurper. for, if the people knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their queen and restore her to her rightful position." "an able argument!" cried the scarecrow. "i have no doubt that mombi was mixed up in this wicked business. but how does that knowledge help us?" "we must find mombi," replied glinda, "and force her to tell where the girl is hidden." "mombi is now with queen jinjur, in the emerald, city" said tip. "it was she who threw so many obstacles in our pathway, and made jinjur threaten to destroy my friends and give me back into the old witch's power." "then," decided glinda, "i will march with my 245 army to the emerald city, and take mombi prisoner. after that we can, perhaps, force her to tell the truth about ozma." "she is a terrible old woman!" remarked tip, with a shudder at the thought of mombi's black kettle; "and obstinate, too." "i am quite obstinate myself," returned the sorceress, with a sweet smile. "so i do not fear mombi in the least. today i will make all necessary preparations, and we will march upon the emerald city at daybreak tomorrow." line-art drawing 246 the tin-woodman plucks a rose the army of glinda the good looked very grand and imposing when it assembled at daybreak before the palace gates. the uniforms of the girl soldiers were pretty and of gay colors, and their silver-tipped spears were bright and glistening, the long shafts being inlaid with mother-of-pearl. all the officers wore sharp, gleaming swords, and shields edged with peacock-feathers; and it really seemed that no foe could by any possibility defeat such a brilliant army. the sorceress rode in a beautiful palanquin which was like the body of a coach, having doors and 247 windows with silken curtains; but instead of wheels, which a coach has, the palanquin rested upon two long, horizontal bars, which were borne upon the shoulders of twelve servants. the scarecrow and his comrades decided to ride in the gump, in order to keep up with the swift march of the army; so, as soon as glinda had started and her soldiers had marched away to the inspiring strains of music played by the royal band, our friends climbed into the sofas and followed. the gump flew along slowly at a point directly over the palanquin in which rode the sorceress. "be careful," said the line-art drawing 248 tin woodman to the scarecrow, who was leaning far over the side to look at the army below. "you might fall." "it wouldn't matter," remarked the educated woggle-bug. "he can't get broke so long as he is stuffed with money." "didn't i ask you" began tip, in a reproachful voice. "you did!" said the woggle-bug, promptly. "and i beg your pardon. i will really try to restrain myself." "you'd better," declared the boy. "that is, if you wish to travel in our company." "ah! i couldn't bear to part with you now," murmured the insect, feelingly; so tip let the subject drop. the army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came to the walls of the emerald city. by the dim light of the new moon, however, glinda's forces silently surrounded the city and pitched their tents of scarlet silk upon the greensward. the tent of the sorceress was larger than the others, and was composed of pure white silk, with scarlet banners flying above it. a tent was also pitched for the scarecrow's party; and when these preparations had been made, with military precision and quickness, the army retired to rest. 249 great was the amazement of queen jinjur next morning when her soldiers came running to inform her of the vast army surrounding them. she at once climbed to a high tower of the royal palace and saw banners waving in every direction and the great white tent of glinda standing directly before the gates. "we are surely lost!" cried jinjur, in despair; "for how can our knitting-needles avail against the long spears and terrible swords of our foes?" "the best thing we can do," said one of the girls, "is to surrender as quickly as possible, before we get hurt." "not so," returned jinjur, more bravely. "the enemy is still outside the walls, so we must try to gain time by engaging them in parley. go you with a flag of truce to glinda and ask her why she has dared to invade my dominions, and what are her demands." so the girl passed through the gates, bearing a white flag to show she was on a mission of peace, and came to glinda's tent. "tell your queen," said the sorceress to the girl, "that she must deliver up to me old mombi, to be my prisoner. if this is done i will not molest her farther." line-art drawing 250 now when this message was delivered to the queen it filled her with dismay, for mombi was her chief counsellor, and jinjur was terribly afraid of the old hag. but she sent for mombi, and told her what glinda had said. "i see trouble ahead for all of us," muttered the old witch, after glancing into a magic mirror she carried in her pocket. "but we may even yet escape by deceiving this sorceress, clever as she thinks herself." "don't you think it will be safer for me to deliver you into her hands?" asked jinjur, nervously. "if you do, it will cost you the throne of the emerald city!" answered the witch, positively. "but if you will let me have my own way, i can save us both very easily." "then do as you please," replied jinjur, "for it is so aristocratic to be a queen that i do not wish to be obliged to return home again, to make beds and wash dishes for my mother." so mombi called jellia jamb to her, and performed a certain magical rite with which she was familiar. as a result of the enchantment jellia took on the form and features of mombi, while the old witch grew to resemble the girl so closely that it seemed impossible anyone could guess the deception. 251 "now," said old mombi to the queen, "let your soldiers deliver up this girl to glinda. she will think she has the real mombi in her power, and so will return immediately to her own country in the south." therefore jellia, hobbling along like an aged line-art drawing woman, was led from the city gates and taken before glinda. "here is the person you demanded," said one of the guards, "and our queen now begs you will go away, as you promised, and leave us in peace." "that i will surely do," replied glinda, much pleased; "if this is really the person she seems to be." "it is certainly old mombi," said the guard, who believed she was speaking the truth; and then jinjur's soldiers returned within the city's gates. 252 the sorceress quickly summoned the scarecrow and his friends to her tent, and began to question the supposed mombi about the lost girl ozma. but jellia knew nothing at all of this affair, and presently she grew so nervous under the questioning that she gave way and began to weep, to glinda's great astonishment. "here is some foolish trickery!" said the sorceress, her eyes flashing with anger. "this is not mombi at all, but some other person who has been made to resemble her! tell me," she demanded, turning to the trembling girl, "what is your name?" this jellia dared not tell, having been threatened with death by the witch if she confessed the fraud. but glinda, sweet and fair though she was, understood magic better than any other person in the land of oz. so, by uttering a few potent words and making a peculiar gesture, she quickly transformed the girl into her proper shape, while at the same time old mombi, far away in jinjur's palace, suddenly resumed her own crooked form and evil features. "why, it's jellia jamb!" cried the scarecrow, recognizing in the girl one of his old friends. "it's our interpreter!" said the pumpkinhead, smiling pleasantly. then jellia was forced to tell of the trick mombi 253 line-art drawing had played and she also begged glinda's protection, which the sorceress readily granted. but glinda was now really angry, and sent word to jinjur that the fraud was discovered and she must deliver up the real mombi or suffer terrible consequences. jinjur was prepared for this message, for the witch well understood, when her natural form was thrust upon her, that glinda had discovered her trickery. but the wicked old creature had already thought up a new deception, and had made jinjur promise to carry it out. so the queen said to glinda's messenger: "tell your mistress that i cannot find mombi anywhere, but that glinda is welcome to enter the 254 city and search herself for the old woman. she may also bring her friends with her, if she likes; but if she does not find mombi by sundown, the sorceress must promise to go away peaceably and bother us no more." glinda agreed to these terms, well knowing that mombi was somewhere within the city walls. so jinjur caused the gates to be thrown open, and glinda marched in at the head of a company of soldiers, followed by the scarecrow and the tin woodman, while jack pumpkinhead rode astride the saw-horse, and the educated, highly magnified woggle-bug sauntered behind in a dignified manner. tip walked by the side of the sorceress, for glinda had conceived a great liking for the boy. of course old mombi had no intention of being found by glinda; so, while her enemies were marching up the street, the witch transformed herself into a red rose growing upon a bush in the garden of the palace. it was a clever idea, and a trick glinda did not suspect; so several precious hours were spent in a vain search for mombi. as sundown approached the sorceress realized she had been defeated by the superior cunning of the aged witch; so she gave the command to her people to march out of the city and back to their tents. the scarecrow and his comrades happened to be 255 searching in the garden of the palace just then, and they turned with disappointment to obey glinda's command. but before they left the garden the tin woodman, who was fond of flowers, chanced to espy a big red rose growing upon a bush; so he plucked the flower and fastened it securely in the tin buttonhole of his tin bosom. as he did this he fancied he heard a low moan proceed from the rose; but he paid no attention to the sound, and mombi was thus carried out of the city and into glinda's camp without anyone having a suspicion that they had succeeded in their quest. line-art drawing 256 the transformation of old mombi the witch was at first frightened at finding herself captured by the enemy; but soon she decided that she was exactly as safe in the tin woodman's button-hole as growing upon the bush. for no one knew the rose and mombi to be one, and now that she was without the gates of the city her chances of escaping altogether from glinda were much improved. "but there is no hurry," thought mombi. "i will wait awhile and enjoy the humiliation of this sorceress when she finds i have outwitted her." so throughout the night the rose lay quietly on the woodman's bosom, and in the morning, when glinda summoned our friends to a consultation, nick chopper carried his pretty flower with him to the white silk tent. 257 line-art drawing "for some reason," said glinda, "we have failed to find this cunning old mombi; so i fear our expedition will prove a failure. and for that i am sorry, because without our assistance little ozma will never be rescued and restored to her rightful position as queen of the emerald city" "do not let us give up so easily," said the pumpkinhead. "let us do something else." "something else must really be done," replied glinda, with a smile. "yet i cannot understand how i have been defeated so easily by an old witch who knows far less of magic than i do myself." "while we are on the ground i believe it would be wise for us to conquer the emerald city for princess ozma, and find the girl afterward," said the scarecrow." and while the girl remains hidden i will gladly rule in her place, for i understand the business of ruling much better than jinjur does." 258 "but i have promised not to molest jinjur," objected glinda. "suppose you all return with me to my kingdom--or empire, rather," said the tin woodman, politely including the entire party in a royal wave of his arm. "it will give me great pleasure to entertain you in my castle, where there is room enough and to spare. and if any of you wish to be nickelplated, my valet will do it free of all expense." while the woodman was speaking glinda's eyes had been noting the rose in his button-hole, and now she imagined she saw the big red leaves of the flower tremble slightly. this quickly aroused her suspicions, and in a moment more the sorceress had decided that the seeming rose was nothing else than a transformation of old mombi. at the same instant mombi knew she was discovered and must quickly plan an escape, and as transformations were easy to her she immediately took the form of a shadow and glided along the wall of the tent toward the entrance, thinking thus to disappear. but glinda had not only equal cunning, but far more experience than the witch. so the sorceress reached the opening of the tent before the shadow, and with a wave of her hand closed the entrance so securely that mombi could not find a crack big 259 enough to creep through. the scarecrow and his friends were greatly surprised at glinda's actions; for none of them had noted the shadow. but the sorceress said to them: "remain perfectly quiet, all of you! for the old witch is even now with us in this tent, and i hope to capture her." these words so alarmed mombi that she quickly transformed herself from a shadow to a black ant, in which shape she crawled along the ground, seeking a crack or crevice in which to hide her tiny body. fortunately, the ground where the tent had been pitched, being just before the city gates, was hard and smooth; and while the ant still crawled about, glinda discovered it and ran quickly forward to effect its capture but, just as her hand was descending, the witch, now fairly frantic with fear, made her last transformation, and in the form of a huge griffin sprang through the wall of the tent--tearing the silk asunder in her rush--and in a moment had darted away with the speed of a whirlwind. glinda did not hesitate to follow. she sprang upon the back of the saw-horse and cried: "now you shall prove that you have a right to be alive! run--run--run!" the saw-horse ran. like a flash he followed the 260 griffin, his wooden legs moving so fast that they twinkled like the rays of a star. before our friends could recover from their surprise both the griffin and the saw-horse had dashed out of sight. "come! let us follow!" cried the scarecrow. they ran to the place where the gump was lying and quickly tumbled aboard. "fly!" commanded tip, eagerly. "where to?" asked the gump, in its calm voice. "i don't know," returned tip, who was very nervous at the delay; "but if you will mount into the air i think we can discover which way glinda has gone." line-art drawing 261 "very well," returned the gump, quietly; and it spread its great wings and mounted high into the air. far away, across the meadows, they could now see two tiny specks, speeding one after the other; and they knew these specks must be the griffin and the saw-horse. so tip called the gump's attention to them and bade the creature try to overtake the witch and the sorceress. but, swift as was the gump's flight, the pursued and pursuer moved more swiftly yet, and within a few moments were blotted out against the dim horizon. "let us continue to follow them, nevertheless," said the scarecrow. "for the land of oz is of small extent, and sooner or later they must both come to a halt." old mombi had thought herself very wise to choose the form of a griffin, for its legs were exceedingly fleet and its strength more enduring than that of other animals. but she had not reckoned on the untiring energy of the saw-horse, whose wooden limbs could run for days without slacking their speed. therefore, after an hour's hard running, the griffin's breath began to fail, and it panted and gasped painfully, and moved more slowly than before. then it reached the edge of the desert and began racing across the deep sands. but its tired feet sank far 262 into the sand, and in a few minutes the griffin fell forward, completely exhausted, and lay still upon the desert waste. glinda came up a moment later, riding the still vigorous saw-horse; and having unwound a slender golden thread from her girdle the sorceress threw it over the head of the panting and helpless griffin, and so destroyed the magical power of mombi's transformation. for the animal, with one fierce shudder, disappeared from view, while in its place was discovered the form of the old witch, glaring savagely at the serene and beautiful face of the sorceress. line-art drawing 263 full page line-art drawing. 264 princess ozma of oz "you are my prisoner, and it is useless for you to struggle any longer," said glinda, in her soft, sweet voice. "lie still a moment, and rest yourself, and then i will carry you back to my tent." "why do you seek me?" asked mombi, still scarce able to speak plainly for lack of breath. "what have i done to you, to be so persecuted?" "you have done nothing to me," answered the gentle sorceress; "but i suspect you have been guilty of several wicked actions; and if i find it is true that you have so abused your knowledge of magic, i intend to punish you severely." "i defy you!" croaked the old hag. "you dare not harm me!" just then the gump flew up to them and alighted upon the desert sands beside glinda. our friends 265 were delighted to find that mombi had finally been captured, and after a hurried consultation it was decided they should all return to the camp in the gump. so the saw-horse was tossed aboard, and then glinda still holding an end of the golden thread that was around mombi's neck, forced her prisoner to climb into the sofas. the others now followed, and tip gave the word to the gump to return. the journey was made in safety, mombi sitting in her place with a grim and sullen air; for the old hag was absolutely helpless so long as the magical thread encircled her throat. the army hailed glinda's return with loud cheers, and the party of friends soon gathered again in the royal tent, which had been neatly repaired during their absence. "now," said the sorceress to mombi, "i want you to tell us why the wonderful wizard of oz paid you three visits, and what became of the child, ozma, which so curiously disappeared." the witch looked at glinda defiantly, but said not a word. "answer me!" cried the sorceress. but still mombi remained silent. "perhaps she doesn't know," remarked jack. "i beg you will keep quiet," said tip. "you might spoil everything with your foolishness." 266 "very well, dear father!" returned the pumpkinhead, meekly. "how glad i am to be a woggle-bug!" murmured the highly magnified insect, softly. "no one can expect wisdom to flow from a pumpkin." "well," said the scarecrow, "what shall we do to make mombi speak? unless she tells us what we wish to know her capture will do us no good at all." "suppose we try kindness," suggested the tin woodman. "i've heard that anyone can be conquered with kindness, no matter how ugly they may be." at this the witch turned to glare upon him so horribly that the tin woodman shrank back abashed. glinda had been carefully considering what to do, and now she turned to mombi and said: "you will gain nothing, i assure you, by thus defying us. for i am determined to learn the truth about the girl ozma, and unless you tell me all that you know, i will certainly put you to death." "oh, no! don't do that!" exclaimed the tin woodman. "it would be an awful thing to kill anyone--even old mombi!" "but it is merely a threat," returned glinda. "i shall not put mombi to death, because she will prefer to tell me the truth." "oh, i see!" said the tin man, much relieved. 267 "suppose i tell you all that you wish to know,". said mombi, speaking so suddenly that she startled them all. "what will you do with me then?" "in that case," replied glinda, "i shall merely ask you to drink a powerful draught which will cause you to forget all the magic you have ever learned." "then i would become a helpless old woman!" "but you would be alive," suggested the pumpkinhead, consolingly. "do try to keep silent!" said tip, nervously. "i'll try," responded jack; "but you will admit that it's a good thing to be alive." "especially if one happens to be thoroughly educated," added the woggle-bug, nodding approval. "you may make your choice," glinda said to old mombi, "between death if you remain silent, and the loss of your magical powers if you tell me the truth. but i think you will prefer to live. mombi cast an uneasy glance at the sorceress, and saw that she was in earnest, and not to be trifled with. so she replied, slowly: "i will answer your questions." "that is what i expected," said glinda, pleasantly. "you have chosen wisely, i assure you." she then motioned to one of her captains, who brought her a beautiful golden casket. from this 268 the sorceress drew an immense white pearl, attached to a slender chain which she placed around her neck in such a way that the pearl rested upon her bosom, directly over her heart. "now," said she, "i will ask my first question: why did the wizard pay you three visits?" "because i would not come to him," answered mombi. "that is no answer," said glinda, sternly. "tell me the truth." "well," returned mombi, with downcast eyes, "he visited me to learn the way i make tea-biscuits." "look up!" commanded the sorceress. mombi obeyed. "what is the color of my pearl?" demanded glinda. "why--it is black!" replied the old witch, in a tone of wonder. "then you have told me a falsehood!" cried glinda, angrily. "only when the truth is spoken will my magic pearl remain a pure white in color." mombi now saw how useless it was to try to deceive the sorceress; so she said, meanwhile scowling at her defeat: "the wizard brought to me the girl ozma, who was then no more than a baby, and begged me to conceal the child." 269 "that is what i thought," declared glinda, calmly. "what did he give you for thus serving him?" "he taught me all the magical tricks he knew. some were good tricks, and some were only frauds; but i have remained faithful to my promise." "what did you do with the girl?" asked glinda; and at this question everyone bent forward and listened eagerly for the reply. "i enchanted her," answered mombi. "in what way?" "i transformed her into--into--" "into what?" demanded glinda, as the witch hesitated. "into a boy!" said mombi, in a low tone." a boy!" echoed every voice; and then, because they knew that this old woman had reared tip from childhood, all eyes were turned to where the boy stood. "yes," said the old witch, nodding her head; "that is the princess ozma--the child brought to me by the wizard who stole her father's throne. that is the rightful ruler of the emerald city!" and she pointed her long bony finger straight at the boy. "i!" cried tip, in amazement. "why, i'm no princess ozma--i'm not a girl!" glinda smiled, and going to tip she took his small brown hand within her dainty white one. 270 full page line-art drawing. mombi pointed her long, bony finger at the boy 271 "you are not a girl just now" said she, gently, "because mombi transformed you into a boy. but you were born a girl, and also a princess; so you must resume your proper form, that you may become queen of the emerald city." "oh, let jinjur be the queen!" exclaimed tip, ready to cry. "i want to stay a boy, and travel with the scarecrow and the tin woodman, and the wogglebug, and jack--yes! and my friend the saw-horse--and the gump! i don't want to be a girl!" "never mind, old chap," said the tin woodman, soothingly; "it don't hurt to be a girl, i'm told; and we will all remain your faithful friends just the same. and, to be honest with you, i've always considered girls nicer than boys." "they're just as nice, anyway," added the scarecrow, patting tip affectionately upon the head. "and they are equally good students," proclaimed the woggle-bug. "i should like to become your tutor, when you are transformed into a girl again." "but--see here!" said jack pumpkinhead, with a gasp: "if you become a girl, you can't be my dear father any more!" "no," answered tip, laughing in spite of his anxiety. "and i shall not be sorry to escape the relationship." then he added, hesitatingly, as he turned to 272 line-art drawing glinda: "i might try it for awhile,-just to see how it seems, you know. but if i don't like being a girl you must promise to change me into a boy again." "really," said the sorceress, "that is beyond my magic. i never deal in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable sorceress likes to make things appear to be what they are not. only unscrupulous witches use the art, and therefore i must ask mombi to effect your release from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. it will be the last opportunity she will have to practice magic." 273 now that the truth about princes ozma had been discovered, mombi did not care what became of tip; but she feared glinda's anger, and the boy generously promised to provide for mombi in her old age if he became the ruler of the emerald city. so the witch consented to effect the transformation, and preparations for the event were at once made. glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of the tent. it was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk, and from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink gossamer, completely concealing the interior of the couch. the first act of the witch was to make the boy drink a potion which quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. then the tin woodman and the woggle-bug bore him gently to the couch, placed him upon the soft cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to shut him from all earthly view. the witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire of dried herbs, which she drew from her bosom. when the blaze shot up and burned clearly old mombi scattered a handful of magical powder over the fire, which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent with its fragrance and forcing the saw-horse to sneeze--although he had been warned to keep quiet. 274 full page line-art drawing. mombi at her magical incantations. 275 then, while the others watched her curiously, the hag chanted a rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean body seven times back and forth over the fire. and now the incantation seemed complete, for the witch stood upright and cried the one word "yeowa!" in a loud voice. the vapor floated away; the atmosphere became, clear again; a whiff of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly, as if stirred from within. glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. then she bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a may morning. her eyes sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. all adown her back floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them at the brow. her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet. at this exquisite vision tip's old comrades stared in wonder for the space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest admiration of the lovely princess ozma. the girl herself cast one look into glinda's bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then turned upon the 276 others. speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said: "i hope none of you will care less for me than you did before. i'm just the same tip, you know; only--only--" "only you're different!" said the pumpkinhead; and everyone thought it was the wisest speech he had ever made. line-art drawing 277 full page line-art drawing. 278 the riches of content when the wonderful tidings reached the ears of queen jinjur--how mombi the witch had been captured; how she had confessed her crime to glinda; and how the long-lost princess ozma had been discovered in no less a personage than the boy tip--she wept real tears of grief and despair. "to think," she moaned, "that after having ruled as queen, and lived in a palace, i must go back to scrubbing floors and churning butter again! it is too horrible to think of! i will never consent!" so when her soldiers, who spent most of their time making fudge in the palace kitchens, counseled jinjur to resist, she listened to their foolish prattle and sent a sharp defiance to glinda the good and the princess ozma. the result was a declaration of war, and the very next day glinda marched upon the emerald city with pennants flying and bands playing, 279 and a forest of shining spears, sparkling brightly beneath the sun's rays. but when it came to the walls this brave assembly made a sudden halt; for jinjur had closed and barred every gateway, and the walls of the emerald city were builded high and thick with many blocks of green marble. finding her advance thus baffled, glinda bent her brows in deep thought, while the woggle-bug said, in his most positive tone: "we must lay siege to the city, and starve it into submission. it is the only thing we can do." "not so," answered the scarecrow. "we still have the gump, and the gump can still fly" the sorceress turned quickly at this speech, and her face now wore a bright smile. "you are right," she exclaimed, "and certainly have reason to be proud of your brains. let us go to the gump at once!" so they passed through the ranks of the army until they came to the place, near the scarecrow's tent, where the gump lay. glinda and princess ozma mounted first, and sat upon the sofas. then the scarecrow and his friends climbed aboard, and still there was room for a captain and three soldiers, which glinda considered sufficient for a guard. now, at a word from the princess, the queer 280 line-art drawing thing they had called the gump flopped its palm-leaf wings and rose into the air, carrying the party of adventurers high above the walls. they hovered over the palace, and soon perceived jinjur reclining in a hammock in the courtyard, where she was comfortably reading a novel with a green cover and eating green chocolates, confident that the walls would protect her from her enemies. obeying a quick command, the gump alighted safely in this very courtyard, and before jinjur had time to do more than scream, the captain and three soldiers 281 leaped out and made the former queen a prisoner, locking strong chains upon both her wrists. that act really ended the war; for the army of revolt submitted as soon as they knew jinjur to be a captive, and the captain marched in safety through the streets and up to the gates of the city, which she threw wide open. then the bands played their most stirring music while glinda's army marched into the city, and heralds proclaimed the conquest of the audacious jinjur and the accession of the beautiful princess ozma to the throne of her royal ancestors. at once the men of the emerald city cast off their aprons. and it is said that the women were so tired eating of their husbands' cooking that they line-art drawing 282 all hailed the conquest of jinjur with joy. certain it is that, rushing one and all to the kitchens of their houses, the good wives prepared so delicious a feast for the weary men that harmony was immediately restored in every family. ozma's first act was to oblige the army of revolt to return to her every emerald or other gem stolen from the public streets and buildings; and so great was the number of precious stones picked from their settings by these vain girls, that every one of the royal jewelers worked steadily for more than a month to replace them in their settings. meanwhile the army of revolt was disbanded and the girls sent home to their mothers. on promise of good behavior jinjur was likewise released. ozma made the loveliest queen the emerald city had ever known; and, although she was so young and inexperienced, she ruled her people with wisdom and justice. for glinda gave her good advice on all occasions; and the woggle-bug, who was appointed to the important post of public educator, was quite helpful to ozma when her royal duties grew perplexing. the girl, in her gratitude to the gump for its services, offered the creature any reward it might name. 283 "then," replied the gump, "please take me to pieces. i did not wish to be brought to life, and i am greatly ashamed of my conglomerate personality. once i was a monarch of the forest, as my antlers fully prove; but now, in my present upholstered condition of servitude, i am compelled to fly through the air--my legs being of no use to me whatever. therefore i beg to be dispersed." so ozma ordered the gump taken apart. the antlered head was again hung over the mantle-piece in the hall, and the sofas were untied and placed in the reception parlors. the broom tail resumed its accustomed duties in the kitchen, and finally, the scarecrow replaced all the clotheslines and ropes on the pegs from which he had taken them on the eventful day when the thing was constructed. you might think that was the end of the gump; and so it was, as a flying-machine. but the head over the mantle-piece continued to talk whenever it took a notion to do so, and it frequently startled, with its abrupt questions, the people who waited in the hall for an audience with the queen. the saw-horse, being ozma's personal property, was tenderly cared for; and often she rode the queer creature along the streets of the emerald city. she had its wooden legs shod with gold, to keep them 284 from wearing out, and the tinkle of these golden shoes upon the pavement always filled the queen's subjects with awe as they thought upon this evidence of her magical powers. "the wonderful wizard was never so wonderful as queen ozma," the people said to one another, in whispers; "for he claimed to do many things he could not do; whereas our new queen does many things no one would ever expect her to accomplish." jack pumpkinhead remained with ozma to the end of his days; and he did not spoil as soon as he had feared, although he always remained as stupid as ever. the woggle-bug tried to teach him several arts and sciences; but jack was so poor a student that any attempt to educate him was soon abandoned. after glinda's army had marched back home, and peace was restored to the emerald city, the tin woodman announced his intention to return to his own kingdom of the winkies. "it isn't a very big kingdom," said he to ozma, "but for that very reason it is easier to rule; and i have called myself an emperor because i am an absolute monarch, and no one interferes in any way with my conduct of public or personal affairs. when i get home i shall have a new coat of nickel plate; for i have become somewhat marred and scratched lately; 285 and then i shall be glad to have you pay me a visit." "thank you," replied ozma. "some day i may accept the invitation. but what is to become of the scarecrow?" "i shall return with my friend the tin woodman," said the stuffed one, seriously. "we have decided never to be parted in the future." "and i have made the scarecrow my royal treasurer," explained the tin woodman." for it has occurred to me that it is a good thing to have a royal treasurer who is made of money. what do you think?" "i think," said the little queen, smiling, "that your friend must be the richest man in all the world." "i am," returned the scarecrow. "but not on account of my money. for i consider brains far superior to money, in every way. you may have noticed that if one has money without brains, he cannot use it to advantage; but if one has brains without money, they will enable him to live comfortably to the end of his days." "at the same time," declared the tin woodman, "you must acknowledge that a good heart is a thing that brains can not create, and that money can not buy. perhaps, after all, it is i who am the richest man in all the world." 286 "you are both rich, my friends," said ozma, gently; "and your riches are the only riches worth having--the riches of content!" the end the land of oz the further adventures of a sequel to the wizard of oz by l. frank baum [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] the famous oz books since 1900 when l. frank baum introduced to the children of america the wonderful wizard of oz and all the other exciting characters who inhabit the land of oz, these delightful fairy tales have stimulated the imagination of millions of young readers. these are stories which are genuine fantasy--creative, funny, tender, exciting and surprising. filled with the rarest and most absurd creatures, each of the =14= volumes which now comprise the series, has been eagerly sought out by generation after generation until today they are known to all except the very young or those who were never young at all. when, in a recent survey, =the new york times= polled a group of teenagers on the books they liked best when they were young, the oz books topped the list. _the famous oz books_ by l. frank baum: the wizard of oz the land of oz ozma of oz dorothy and the wizard in oz the road to oz the emerald city of oz the patchwork girl of oz tik-tok of oz the scarecrow of oz rinkitink in oz the lost princess of oz the tin woodman of oz the magic of oz glinda of oz chicago the reilly & lee co. _publishers_ [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the land _of_ oz ] [illustration: tip manufactures a pumpkinhead] the land of oz being an account of the further adventures of the scarecrow and tin woodman and also the strange experiences of the highly magnified woggle-bug, jack pumpkinhead, the animated saw-horse and the gump; the story being a sequel _to_ the wizard _of_ oz by l. frank baum author of father goose--his book; the wizard of oz; the magical monarch of mo; the enchanted isle of yew, the life and adventures _of_ santa claus; dot and tot of merryland etc., etc. pictured by john r. neill chicago the reilly & lee company [illustration: copyright 1904 by l. frank baum all rights reserved ] [illustration: author's note after the publication of "the wonderful wizard of oz" i began to receive letters from children, telling me of their pleasure in reading the story and asking me to "write something more" about the scarecrow and the tin woodman. at first i considered these little letters, frank and earnest though they were, in the light of pretty compliments; but the letters continued to come during succeeding months, and even years. finally i promised one little girl, who made a long journey to see me and prefer her request,--and she is a "dorothy," by the way--that when a thousand little girls had written me a thousand little letters asking for another story of the scarecrow and the tin woodman, i would write the book. either little dorothy was a fairy in disguise, and waved her magic wand, or the success of the stage production of "the wizard of oz" made new friends for the story. for the thousand letters reached their destination long since--and many more followed them. and now, although pleading guilty to a long delay, i have kept my promise in this book. l. frank baum. chicago, june, 1904. ] [illustration: to those excellent good fellows and eminent comedians =david c. montgomery= and =fred a. stone= whose clever personations of the tin woodman and the scarecrow have delighted thousands of children throughout the land, this book is gratefully dedicated by the author ] [illustration: tip. jack mombi scarecrow tin woodman woggle-bug gump ] list of chapters page tip manufactures a pumpkinhead 1 the marvelous powder of life 9 the flight of the fugitives 23 tip makes an experiment in magic 33 the awakening of the saw-horse 41 jack pumpkinhead's ride 53 his majesty, the scarecrow 65 general jinjur's army of revolt 77 the scarecrow plans an escape 91 the journey to the tin woodman 103 a nickel-plated emperor 115 mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. 129 a highly magnified history 141 old mombi indulges in witchcraft 153 the prisoners of the queen 163 the scarecrow takes time to think 175 the astonishing flight of the gump 185 in the jackdaws' nest 195 dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills 213 the scarecrow appeals to glinda 225 the tin woodman plucks a rose 241 the transformation of old mombi 251 princess ozma of oz 259 the riches of content 273 [illustration] [illustration: the land _of_ oz ] [illustration] [illustration: tip manufactures a pumpkinhead ] in the country of the gillikins, which is at the north of the land of oz, lived a youth called tip. there was more to his name than that, for old mombi often declared that his whole name was tippetarius; but no one was expected to say such a long word when "tip" would do just as well. this boy remembered nothing of his parents, for he had been brought when quite young to be reared by the old woman known as mombi, whose reputation, i am sorry to say, was none of the best. for the gillikin people had reason to suspect her of indulging in magical arts, and therefore hesitated to associate with her. mombi was not exactly a witch, because the good witch who ruled that part of the land of oz had forbidden any other witch to exist in her dominions. so tip's guardian, however much she might aspire to working magic, realized it was unlawful to be more than a sorceress, or at most a wizardess. [illustration] tip was made to carry wood from the forest, that the old woman might boil her pot. he also worked in the corn-fields, hoeing and husking; and he fed the pigs and milked the four-horned cow that was mombi's especial pride. but you must not suppose he worked all the time, for he felt that would be bad for him. when sent to the forest tip often climbed trees for birds' eggs or amused himself chasing the fleet white rabbits or fishing in the brooks with bent pins. then he would hastily gather his armful of wood and carry it home. and when he was supposed to be working in the corn-fields, and the tall stalks hid him from mombi's view, tip would often dig in the gopher holes, or--if the mood seized him--lie upon his back between the rows of corn and take a nap. so, by taking care not to exhaust his strength, he grew as strong and rugged as a boy may be. mombi's curious magic often frightened her neighbors, and they treated her shyly, yet respectfully, because of her weird powers. but tip frankly hated her, and took no pains to hide his feelings. indeed, he sometimes showed less respect for the old woman than he should have done, considering she was his guardian. [illustration] there were pumpkins in mombi's corn-fields, lying golden red among the rows of green stalks; and these had been planted and carefully tended that the four-horned cow might eat of them in the winter time. but one day, after the corn had all been cut and stacked, and tip was carrying the pumpkins to the stable, he took a notion to make a "jack lantern" and try to give the old woman a fright with it. so he selected a fine, big pumpkin--one with a lustrous, orange-red color--and began carving it. with the point of his knife he made two round eyes, a three-cornered nose, and a mouth shaped like a new moon. the face, when completed, could not have been considered strictly beautiful; but it wore a smile so big and broad, and was so jolly in expression, that even tip laughed as he looked admiringly at his work. the child had no playmates, so he did not know that boys often dig out the inside of a "pumpkin-jack," and in the space thus made put a lighted candle to render the face more startling; but he conceived an idea of his own that promised to be quite as effective. he decided to manufacture the form of a man, who would wear this pumpkin head, and to stand it in a place where old mombi would meet it face to face. "and then," said tip to himself, with a laugh, "she'll squeal louder than the brown pig does when i pull her tail, and shiver with fright worse than i did last year when i had the ague!" he had plenty of time to accomplish this task, for mombi had gone to a village--to buy groceries, she said--and it was a journey of at least two days. so he took his axe to the forest, and selected some stout, straight saplings, which he cut down and trimmed of all their twigs and leaves. from these he would make the arms, and legs, and feet of his man. for the body he stripped a sheet of thick bark from around a big tree, and with much labor fashioned it into a cylinder of about the right size, pinning the edges together with wooden pegs. then, whistling happily as he worked, he carefully jointed the limbs and fastened them to the body with pegs whittled into shape with his knife. by the time this feat had been accomplished it began to grow dark, and tip remembered he must milk the cow and feed the pigs. so he picked up his wooden man and carried it back to the house with him. during the evening, by the light of the fire in the kitchen, tip carefully rounded all the edges of the joints and smoothed the rough places in a neat and workmanlike manner. then he stood the figure up against the wall and admired it. it seemed remarkably tall, even for a full-grown man; but that was a good point in a small boy's eyes, and tip did not object at all to the size of his creation. next morning, when he looked at his work again, tip saw he had forgotten to give the dummy a neck, by means of which he might fasten the pumpkinhead to the body. so he went again to the forest, which was not far away, and chopped from a tree several pieces of wood with which to complete his work. when he returned he fastened a cross-piece to the upper end of the body, making a hole through the center to hold upright the neck. the bit of wood which formed this neck was also sharpened at the upper end, and when all was ready tip put on the pumpkin head, pressing it well down onto the neck, and found that it fitted very well. the head could be turned to one side or the other, as he pleased, and the hinges of the arms and legs allowed him to place the dummy in any position he desired. "now, that," declared tip, proudly, "is really a very fine man, and it ought to frighten several screeches out of old mombi! but it would be much more lifelike if it were properly dressed." to find clothing seemed no easy task; but tip boldly ransacked the great chest in which mombi kept all her keepsakes and treasures, and at the very bottom he discovered some purple trousers, a red shirt and a pink vest which was dotted with white spots. these he carried away to his man and succeeded, although the garments did not fit very well, in dressing the creature in a jaunty fashion. some knit stockings belonging to mombi and a much worn pair of his own shoes completed the man's apparel, and tip was so delighted that he danced up and down and laughed aloud in boyish ecstasy. "i must give him a name!" he cried. "so good a man as this must surely have a name. i believe," he added, after a moment's thought, "i will name the fellow 'jack pumpkinhead!'" [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the marvelous powder of life ] after considering the matter carefully, tip decided that the best place to locate jack would be at the bend in the road, a little way from the house. so he started to carry his man there, but found him heavy and rather awkward to handle. after dragging the creature a short distance tip stood him on his feet, and by first bending the joints of one leg, and then those of the other,--at the same time pushing from behind,--the boy managed to induce jack to walk to the bend in the road. it was not accomplished without a few tumbles, and tip really worked harder than he ever had in the fields or forest; but a love of mischief urged him on, and it pleased him to test the cleverness of his workmanship. "jack's all right, and works fine!" he said to himself, panting with the unusual exertion. but just then he discovered the man's left arm had fallen off in the journey; so he went back to find it, and afterward, by whittling a new and stouter pin for the shoulder-joint, he repaired the injury so successfully that the arm was stronger than before. tip also noticed that jack's pumpkin head had twisted around until it faced his back; but this was easily remedied. when, at last, the man was set up facing the turn in the path where old mombi was to appear, he looked natural enough to be a fair imitation of a gillikin farmer,--and unnatural enough to startle anyone that came on him unawares. as it was yet too early in the day to expect the old woman to return home, tip went down into the valley below the farm-house and began to gather nuts from the trees that grew there. however, old mombi returned earlier than usual. she had met a crooked wizard who resided in a lonely cave in the mountains, and had traded several important secrets of magic with him. having in this way secured three new recipes, four magical powders and a selection of herbs of wonderful power and potency, she hobbled home as fast as she could, in order to test her new sorceries. so intent was mombi on the treasures she had gained that when she turned the bend in the road and caught a glimpse of the man, she merely nodded and said: "good evening, sir." but, a moment after, noting that the person did not move or reply, she cast a shrewd glance into his face and discovered his pumpkin head--elaborately carved by tip's jack-knife. "heh!" ejaculated mombi, giving a sort of grunt; "that rascally boy has been playing tricks again! very good! ve--ry _good_! i'll beat him black-and-blue for trying to scare me in this fashion!" angrily she raised her stick to smash in the grinning pumpkin head of the dummy; but a sudden thought made her pause, the uplifted stick left motionless in the air. "why, here is a good chance to try my new powder!" said she, eagerly. "and then i can tell whether that crooked wizard has fairly traded secrets, or whether he has fooled me as wickedly as i fooled him." so she set down her basket and began fumbling in it for one of the precious powders she had obtained. while mombi was thus occupied tip strolled back, with his pockets full of nuts, and discovered the old woman standing beside his man and apparently not the least bit frightened by it. at first he was greatly disappointed; but the next moment he became curious to know what mombi was going to do. so he hid behind a hedge, where he could see without being seen, and prepared to watch. after some search the woman drew from her basket an old pepper-box, upon the faded label of which the wizard had written with a lead-pencil: "powder of life." "ah--here it is!" she cried, joyfully. "and now let us see if it is potent. the stingy wizard didn't give me much of it, but i guess there's enough for two or three doses." [illustration: "old mombi danced around him"] tip was much surprised when he overheard this speech. then he saw old mombi raise her arm and sprinkle the powder from the box over the pumpkin head of his man jack. she did this in the same way one would pepper a baked potato, and the powder sifted down from jack's head and scattered over the red shirt and pink waistcoat and purple trousers tip had dressed him in, and a portion even fell upon the patched and worn shoes. then, putting the pepper-box back into the basket, mombi lifted her left hand, with its little finger pointed upward, and said: "weaugh!" then she lifted her right hand, with the thumb pointed upward, and said: "teaugh!" then she lifted both hands, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried: "peaugh!" jack pumpkinhead stepped back a pace, at this, and said in a reproachful voice: "don't yell like that! do you think i'm deaf?" old mombi danced around him, frantic with delight. "he lives!" she screamed: "he lives! he lives!" then she threw her stick into the air and caught it as it came down; and she hugged herself with both arms, and tried to do a step of a jig; and all the time she repeated, rapturously: "he lives!--he lives!--he lives!" now you may well suppose that tip observed all this with amazement. at first he was so frightened and horrified that he wanted to run away, but his legs trembled and shook so badly that he couldn't. then it struck him as a very funny thing for jack to come to life, especially as the expression on his pumpkin face was so droll and comical it excited laughter on the instant. so, recovering from his first fear, tip began to laugh; and the merry peals reached old mombi's ears and made her hobble quickly to the hedge, where she seized tip's collar and dragged him back to where she had left her basket and the pumpkin-headed man. "you naughty, sneaking, wicked boy!" she exclaimed, furiously; "i'll teach you to spy out my secrets and to make fun of me!" "i wasn't making fun of you," protested tip. "i was laughing at old pumpkinhead! look at him! isn't he a picture, though?" "i hope you are not reflecting on my personal appearance," said jack; and it was so funny to hear his grave voice, while his face continued to wear its jolly smile, that tip again burst into a peal of laughter. even mombi was not without a curious interest in the man her magic had brought to life; for, after staring at him intently, she presently asked: [illustration: old mombi puts jack in the stable] "what do you know?" "well, that is hard to tell," replied jack. "for although i feel that i know a tremendous lot, i am not yet aware how much there is in the world to find out about. it will take me a little time to discover whether i am very wise or very foolish." "to be sure," said mombi, thoughtfully. "but what are you going to do with him, now he is alive?" asked tip, wondering. "i must think it over," answered mombi. "but we must get home at once, for it is growing dark. help the pumpkinhead to walk." "never mind me," said jack; "i can walk as well as you can. haven't i got legs and feet, and aren't they jointed?" "are they?" asked the woman, turning to tip. "of course they are; i made 'em myself," returned the boy, with pride. so they started for the house; but when they reached the farm yard old mombi led the pumpkin man to the cow stable and shut him up in an empty stall, fastening the door securely on the outside. "i've got to attend to you, first," she said, nodding her head at tip. hearing this, the boy became uneasy; for he knew mombi had a bad and revengeful heart, and would not hesitate to do any evil thing. they entered the house. it was a round, dome-shaped structure, as are nearly all the farm houses in the land of oz. mombi bade the boy light a candle, while she put her basket in a cupboard and hung her cloak on a peg. tip obeyed quickly, for he was afraid of her. after the candle had been lighted mombi ordered him to build a fire in the hearth, and while tip was thus engaged the old woman ate her supper. when the flames began to crackle the boy came to her and asked a share of the bread and cheese; but mombi refused him. "i'm hungry!" said tip, in a sulky tone. "you won't be hungry long," replied mombi, with a grim look. the boy didn't like this speech, for it sounded like a threat; but he happened to remember he had nuts in his pocket, so he cracked some of those and ate them while the woman rose, shook the crumbs from her apron, and hung above the fire a small black kettle. then she measured out equal parts of milk and vinegar and poured them into the kettle. next she produced several packets of herbs and powders and began adding a portion of each to the contents of the kettle. occasionally she would draw near the candle and read from a yellow paper the recipe of the mess she was concocting. as tip watched her his uneasiness increased. "what is that for?" he asked. "for you," returned mombi, briefly. tip wriggled around upon his stool and stared awhile at the kettle, which was beginning to bubble. then he would glance at the stern and wrinkled features of the witch and wish he were any place but in that dim and smoky kitchen, where even the shadows cast by the candle upon the wall were enough to give one the horrors. so an hour passed away, during which the silence was only broken by the bubbling of the pot and the hissing of the flames. finally, tip spoke again. "have i got to drink that stuff?" he asked, nodding toward the pot. "yes," said mombi. "what'll it do to me?" asked tip. "if it's properly made," replied mombi, "it will change or transform you into a marble statue." tip groaned, and wiped the perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. "i don't want to be a marble statue!" he protested. "that doesn't matter; i want you to be one," said the old woman, looking at him severely. "what use'll i be then?" asked tip. "there won't be any one to work for you." "i'll make the pumpkinhead work for me," said mombi. again tip groaned. "why don't you change me into a goat, or a chicken?" he asked, anxiously. "you can't do anything with a marble statue." "oh, yes; i can," returned mombi. "i'm going to plant a flower garden, next spring, and i'll put you in the middle of it, for an ornament. i wonder i haven't thought of that before; you've been a bother to me for years." at this terrible speech tip felt the beads of perspiration starting all over his body; but he sat still and shivered and looked anxiously at the kettle. "perhaps it won't work," he muttered, in a voice that sounded weak and discouraged. "oh, i think it will," answered mombi, cheerfully. "i seldom make a mistake." again there was a period of silence--a silence so long and gloomy that when mombi finally lifted the kettle from the fire it was close to midnight. [illustration: "i don't want to be a marble statue."] "you cannot drink it until it has become quite cold," announced the old witch--for in spite of the law she had acknowledged practising witchcraft. "we must both go to bed now, and at daybreak i will call you and at once complete your transformation into a marble statue." with this she hobbled into her room, bearing the steaming kettle with her, and tip heard her close and lock the door. the boy did not go to bed, as he had been commanded to do, but still sat glaring at the embers of the dying fire. [illustration] [illustration: the flight of the fugitives ] tip reflected. "it's a hard thing, to be a marble statue," he thought, rebelliously, "and i'm not going to stand it. for years i've been a bother to her, she says; so she's going to get rid of me. well, there's an easier way than to become a statue. no boy could have any fun forever standing in the middle of a flower garden! i'll run away, that's what i'll do--and i may as well go before she makes me drink that nasty stuff in the kettle." he waited until the snores of the old witch announced she was fast asleep, and then he arose softly and went to the cupboard to find something to eat. "no use starting on a journey without food," he decided, searching upon the narrow shelves. he found some crusts of bread; but he had to look into mombi's basket to find the cheese she had brought from the village. while turning over the contents of the basket he came upon the pepper-box which contained the "powder of life." "i may as well take this with me," he thought, "or mombi'll be using it to make more mischief with." so he put the box in his pocket, together with the bread and cheese. then he cautiously left the house and latched the door behind him. outside both moon and stars shone brightly, and the night seemed peaceful and inviting after the close and ill-smelling kitchen. "i'll be glad to get away," said tip, softly; "for i never did like that old woman. i wonder how i ever came to live with her." he was walking slowly toward the road when a thought made him pause. "i don't like to leave jack pumpkinhead to the tender mercies of old mombi," he muttered. "and jack belongs to me, for i made him--even if the old witch did bring him to life." he retraced his steps to the cow-stable and opened the door of the stall where the pumpkin-headed man had been left. [illustration: "tip led him along the path."] jack was standing in the middle of the stall, and by the moonlight tip could see he was smiling just as jovially as ever. "come on!" said the boy, beckoning. "where to?" asked jack. "you'll know as soon as i do," answered tip, smiling sympathetically into the pumpkin face. "all we've got to do now is to tramp." "very well," returned jack, and walked awkwardly out of the stable and into the moonlight. tip turned toward the road and the man followed him. jack walked with a sort of limp, and occasionally one of the joints of his legs would turn backward, instead of frontwise, almost causing him to tumble. but the pumpkinhead was quick to notice this, and began to take more pains to step carefully; so that he met with few accidents. tip led him along the path without stopping an instant. they could not go very fast, but they walked steadily; and by the time the moon sank away and the sun peeped over the hills they had travelled so great a distance that the boy had no reason to fear pursuit from the old witch. moreover, he had turned first into one path, and then into another, so that should anyone follow them it would prove very difficult to guess which way they had gone, or where to seek them. [illustration] fairly satisfied that he had escaped--for a time, at least--being turned into a marble statue, the boy stopped his companion and seated himself upon a rock by the roadside. "let's have some breakfast," he said. jack pumpkinhead watched tip curiously, but refused to join in the repast. "i don't seem to be made the same way you are," he said. "i know you are not," returned tip; "for i made you." "oh! did you?" asked jack. "certainly. and put you together. and carved your eyes and nose and ears and mouth," said tip proudly. "and dressed you." jack looked at his body and limbs critically. "it strikes me you made a very good job of it," he remarked. "just so-so," replied tip, modestly; for he began to see certain defects in the construction of his man. "if i'd known we were going to travel together i might have been a little more particular." "why, then," said the pumpkinhead, in a tone that expressed surprise, "you must be my creator--my parent--my father!" "or your inventor," replied the boy with a laugh. "yes, my son; i really believe i am!" "then i owe you obedience," continued the man, "and you owe me--support." "that's it, exactly," declared tip, jumping up. "so let us be off." "where are we going?" asked jack, when they had resumed their journey. "i'm not exactly sure," said the boy; "but i believe we are headed south, and that will bring us, sooner or later, to the emerald city." "what city is that?" enquired the pumpkinhead. "why, it's the center of the land of oz, and the biggest town in all the country. i've never been there, myself, but i've heard all about its history. it was built by a mighty and wonderful wizard named oz, and everything there is of a green color--just as everything in this country of the gillikins is of a purple color." "is everything here purple?" asked jack. "of course it is. can't you see?" returned the boy. "i believe i must be color-blind," said the pumpkinhead, after staring about him. "well, the grass is purple, and the trees are purple, and the houses and fences are purple," explained tip. "even the mud in the roads is purple. but in the emerald city everything is green that is purple here. and in the country of the munchkins, over at the east, everything is blue; and in the south country of the quadlings everything is red; and in the west country of the winkies, where the tin woodman rules, everything is yellow." "oh!" said jack. then, after a pause, he asked: "did you say a tin woodman rules the winkies?" "yes; he was one of those who helped dorothy to destroy the wicked witch of the west, and the winkies were so grateful that they invited him to become their ruler,--just as the people of the emerald city invited the scarecrow to rule them." "dear me!" said jack. "i'm getting confused with all this history. who is the scarecrow?" "another friend of dorothy's," replied tip. "and who is dorothy?" "she was a girl that came here from kansas, a place in the big, outside world. she got blown to the land of oz by a cyclone, and while she was here the scarecrow and the tin woodman accompanied her on her travels." "and where is she now?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "glinda the good, who rules the quadlings, sent her home again," said the boy. "oh. and what became of the scarecrow?" "i told you. he rules the emerald city," answered tip. "i thought you said it was ruled by a wonderful wizard," objected jack, seeming more and more confused. "well, so i did. now, pay attention, and i'll explain it," said tip, speaking slowly and looking the smiling pumpkinhead squarely in the eye. "dorothy went to the emerald city to ask the wizard to send her back to kansas; and the scarecrow and the tin woodman went with her. but the wizard couldn't send her back, because he wasn't so much of a wizard as he might have been. and then they got angry at the wizard, and threatened to expose him; so the wizard made a big balloon and escaped in it, and no one has ever seen him since." "now, that is very interesting history," said jack, well pleased; "and i understand it perfectly--all but the explanation." "i'm glad you do," responded tip. "after the wizard was gone, the people of the emerald city made his majesty, the scarecrow, their king; and i have heard that he became a very popular ruler." "are we going to see this queer king?" asked jack, with interest. "i think we may as well," replied the boy; "unless you have something better to do." "oh, no, dear father," said the pumpkinhead. "i am quite willing to go wherever you please." [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: tip makes an experiment in magic ] the boy, small and rather delicate in appearance, seemed somewhat embarrassed at being called "father" by the tall, awkward, pumpkin-headed man; but to deny the relationship would involve another long and tedious explanation; so he changed the subject by asking, abruptly: "are you tired?" "of course not!" replied the other. "but," he continued, after a pause, "it is quite certain i shall wear out my wooden joints if i keep on walking." tip reflected, as they journeyed on, that this was true. he began to regret that he had not constructed the wooden limbs more carefully and substantially. yet how could he ever have guessed that the man he had made merely to scare old mombi with would be brought to life by means of a magical powder contained in an old pepper-box? so he ceased to reproach himself, and began to think how he might yet remedy the deficiencies of jack's weak joints. while thus engaged they came to the edge of a wood, and the boy sat down to rest upon an old saw-horse that some woodcutter had left there. [illustration] "why don't you sit down?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "won't it strain my joints?" inquired the other. "of course not. it'll rest them," declared the boy. so jack tried to sit down; but as soon as he bent his joints farther than usual they gave way altogether, and he came clattering to the ground with such a crash that tip feared he was entirely ruined. he rushed to the man, lifted him to his feet, straightened his arms and legs, and felt of his head to see if by chance it had become cracked. but jack seemed to be in pretty good shape, after all, and tip said to him: "i guess you'd better remain standing, hereafter. it seems the safest way." "very well, dear father; just as you say," replied the smiling jack, who had been in no wise confused by his tumble. tip sat down again. presently the pumpkinhead asked: "what is that thing you are sitting on?" "oh, this is a horse," replied the boy, carelessly. "what is a horse?" demanded jack. "a horse? why, there are two kinds of horses," returned tip, slightly puzzled how to explain. "one kind of horse is alive, and has four legs and a head and a tail. and people ride upon its back." "i understand," said jack, cheerfully. "that's the kind of horse you are now sitting on." "no, it isn't," answered tip, promptly. "why not? that one has four legs, and a head, and a tail." tip looked at the saw-horse more carefully, and found that the pumpkinhead was right. the body had been formed from a tree-trunk, and a branch had been left sticking up at one end that looked very much like a tail. in the other end were two big knots that resembled eyes, and a place had been chopped away that might easily be mistaken for the horse's mouth. as for the legs, they were four straight limbs cut from trees and stuck fast into the body, being spread wide apart so that the saw-horse would stand firmly when a log was laid across it to be sawed. "this thing resembles a real horse more than i imagined," said tip, trying to explain. "but a real horse is alive, and trots and prances and eats oats, while this is nothing more than a dead horse, made of wood, and used to saw logs upon." "if it were alive, wouldn't it trot, and prance, and eat oats?" inquired the pumpkinhead. "it would trot and prance, perhaps; but it wouldn't eat oats," replied the boy, laughing at the idea. "and of course it can't ever be alive, because it is made of wood." "so am i," answered the man. tip looked at him in surprise. "why, so you are!" he exclaimed. "and the magic powder that brought you to life is here in my pocket." [illustration: the magical powder of life] he brought out the pepper box, and eyed it curiously. "i wonder," said he, musingly, "if it would bring the saw-horse to life." "if it would," returned jack, calmly--for nothing seemed to surprise him--"i could ride on its back, and that would save my joints from wearing out." "i'll try it!" cried the boy, jumping up. "but i wonder if i can remember the words old mombi said, and the way she held her hands up." he thought it over for a minute, and as he had watched carefully from the hedge every motion of the old witch, and listened to her words, he believed he could repeat exactly what she had said and done. so he began by sprinkling some of the magic powder of life from the pepper-box upon the body of the saw-horse. then he lifted his left hand, with the little finger pointing upward, and said "weaugh!" "what does that mean, dear father?" asked jack, curiously. "i don't know," answered tip. then he lifted his right hand, with the thumb pointing upward, and said: "teaugh!" "what's that, dear father?" inquired jack. "it means you must keep quiet!" replied the boy, provoked at being interrupted at so important a moment. "how fast i am learning!" remarked the pumpkinhead, with his eternal smile. tip now lifted both hands above his head, with all the fingers and thumbs spread out, and cried in a loud voice: "peaugh!" immediately the saw-horse moved, stretched its legs, yawned with its chopped-out mouth, and shook a few grains of the powder off its back. the rest of the powder seemed to have vanished into the body of the horse. "good!" called jack, while the boy looked on in astonishment. "you are a very clever sorcerer, dear father!" [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the awakening of the saw-horse ] the saw-horse, finding himself alive, seemed even more astonished than tip. he rolled his knotty eyes from side to side, taking a first wondering view of the world in which he had now so important an existence. then he tried to look at himself; but he had, indeed, no neck to turn; so that in the endeavor to see his body he kept circling around and around, without catching even a glimpse of it. his legs were stiff and awkward, for there were no knee-joints in them; so that presently he bumped against jack pumpkinhead and sent that personage tumbling upon the moss that lined the roadside. tip became alarmed at this accident, as well as at the persistence of the saw-horse in prancing around in a circle; so he called out: "whoa! whoa, there!" the saw-horse paid no attention whatever to this command, and the next instant brought one of his wooden legs down upon tip's foot so forcibly that the boy danced away in pain to a safer distance, from where he again yelled: "whoa! whoa, i say!" jack had now managed to raise himself to a sitting position, and he looked at the saw-horse with much interest. "i don't believe the animal can hear you," he remarked. "i shout loud enough, don't i?" answered tip, angrily. "yes; but the horse has no ears," said the smiling pumpkinhead. "sure enough!" exclaimed tip, noting the fact for the first time. "how, then, am i going to stop him?" but at that instant the saw-horse stopped himself, having concluded it was impossible to see his own body. he saw tip, however, and came close to the boy to observe him more fully. it was really comical to see the creature walk; for it moved the legs on its right side together, and those on its left side together, as a pacing horse does; and that made its body rock sidewise, like a cradle. tip patted it upon the head, and said "good boy! good boy!" in a coaxing tone; and the saw-horse pranced away to examine with its bulging eyes the form of jack pumpkinhead. "i must find a halter for him," said tip; and having made a search in his pocket he produced a roll of strong cord. unwinding this, he approached the saw-horse and tied the cord around its neck, afterward fastening the other end to a large tree. the saw-horse, not understanding the action, stepped backward and snapped the string easily; but it made no attempt to run away. "he's stronger than i thought," said the boy, "and rather obstinate, too." "why don't you make him some ears?" asked jack. "then you can tell him what to do." "that's a splendid idea!" said tip. "how did you happen to think of it?" "why, i didn't think of it," answered the pumpkinhead; "i didn't need to, for it's the simplest and easiest thing to do." so tip got out his knife and fashioned some ears out of the bark of a small tree. "i mustn't make them too big," he said, as he whittled, "or our horse would become a donkey." "how is that?" inquired jack, from the roadside. "why, a horse has bigger ears than a man; and a donkey has bigger ears than a horse," explained tip. "then, if my ears were longer, would i be a horse?" asked jack. "my friend," said tip, gravely, "you'll never be anything but a pumpkinhead, no matter how big your ears are." "oh," returned jack, nodding; "i think i understand." "if you do, you're a wonder," remarked the boy; "but there's no harm in _thinking_ you understand. i guess these ears are ready now. will you hold the horse while i stick them on?" "certainly, if you'll help me up," said jack. so tip raised him to his feet, and the pumpkinhead went to the horse and held its head while the boy bored two holes in it with his knife-blade and inserted the ears. "they make him look very handsome," said jack, admiringly. but those words, spoken close to the saw-horse, and being the first sounds he had ever heard, so startled the animal that he made a bound forward and tumbled tip on one side and jack on the other. then he continued to rush forward as if frightened by the clatter of his own footsteps. "whoa!" shouted tip, picking himself up; "whoa! you idiot--whoa!" the saw-horse would probably have paid no attention to this, but just then it stepped a leg into a gopher-hole and stumbled head-over-heels to the ground, where it lay upon its back, frantically waving its four legs in the air. tip ran up to it. "you're a nice sort of a horse, i must say!" he exclaimed. "why didn't you stop when i yelled 'whoa?'" "does 'whoa' mean to stop?" asked the saw-horse, in a surprised voice, as it rolled its eyes upward to look at the boy. "of course it does," answered tip. "and a hole in the ground means to stop, also, doesn't it?" continued the horse. "to be sure; unless you step over it," said tip. "what a strange place this is," the creature exclaimed, as if amazed. "what am i doing here, anyway?" [illustration: "do keep those legs still."] "why, i've brought you to life," answered the boy; "but it won't hurt you any, if you mind me and do as i tell you." "then i will do as you tell me," replied the saw-horse, humbly. "but what happened to me, a moment ago? i don't seem to be just right, someway." "you're upside down," explained tip. "but just keep those legs still a minute and i'll set you right side up again." "how many sides have i?" asked the creature, wonderingly. "several," said tip, briefly. "but do keep those legs still." the saw-horse now became quiet, and held its legs rigid; so that tip, after several efforts, was able to roll him over and set him upright. "ah, i seem all right now," said the queer animal, with a sigh. "one of your ears is broken," tip announced, after a careful examination. "i'll have to make a new one." then he led the saw-horse back to where jack was vainly struggling to regain his feet, and after assisting the pumpkinhead to stand upright tip whittled out a new ear and fastened it to the horse's head. "now," said he, addressing his steed, "pay attention to what i'm going to tell you. 'whoa!' means to stop; 'get-up!' means to walk forward; 'trot!' means to go as fast as you can. understand?" "i believe i do," returned the horse. "very good. we are all going on a journey to the emerald city, to see his majesty, the scarecrow; and jack pumpkinhead is going to ride on your back, so he won't wear out his joints." "i don't mind," said the saw-horse. "anything that suits you suits me." then tip assisted jack to get upon the horse. "hold on tight," he cautioned, "or you may fall off and crack your pumpkin head." "that would be horrible!" said jack, with a shudder. "what shall i hold on to?" "why, hold on to his ears," replied tip, after a moment's hesitation. "don't do that!" remonstrated the saw-horse; "for then i can't hear." that seemed reasonable, so tip tried to think of something else. "i'll fix it!" said he, at length. he went into the wood and cut a short length of limb from a young, stout tree. one end of this he sharpened to a point, and then he dug a hole in the back of the saw-horse, just behind its head. next he brought a piece of rock from the road and hammered the post firmly into the animal's back. [illustration: "does it hurt?" asked the boy.] "stop! stop!" shouted the horse; "you're jarring me terribly." "does it hurt?" asked the boy. "not exactly hurt," answered the animal; "but it makes me quite nervous to be jarred." "well, it's all over now," said tip, encouragingly. "now, jack, be sure to hold fast to this post, and then you can't fall off and get smashed." so jack held on tight, and tip said to the horse: "get-up." the obedient creature at once walked forward, rocking from side to side as he raised his feet from the ground. tip walked beside the saw-horse, quite content with this addition to their party. presently he began to whistle. "what does that sound mean?" asked the horse. "don't pay any attention to it," said tip. "i'm just whistling, and that only means i'm pretty well satisfied." "i'd whistle myself, if i could push my lips together," remarked jack. "i fear, dear father, that in some respects i am sadly lacking." after journeying on for some distance the narrow path they were following turned into a broad road-way, paved with yellow brick. by the side of the road tip noticed a sign-post that read: "nine miles to the emerald city." but it was now growing dark, so he decided to camp for the night by the roadside and to resume the journey next morning by daybreak. he led the saw-horse to a grassy mound upon which grew several bushy trees, and carefully assisted the pumpkinhead to alight. "i think i'll lay you upon the ground, overnight," said the boy. "you will be safer that way." "how about me?" asked the saw-horse. "it won't hurt you to stand," replied tip; "and, as you can't sleep, you may as well watch out and see that no one comes near to disturb us." then the boy stretched himself upon the grass beside the pumpkinhead, and being greatly wearied by the journey was soon fast asleep. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: jack pumpkinhead's ride to the emerald city ] at daybreak tip was awakened by the pumpkinhead. he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bathed in a little brook, and then ate a portion of his bread and cheese. having thus prepared for a new day the boy said: "let us start at once. nine miles is quite a distance, but we ought to reach the emerald city by noon if no accidents happen." so the pumpkinhead was again perched upon the back of the saw-horse and the journey was resumed. tip noticed that the purple tint of the grass and trees had now faded to a dull lavender, and before long this lavender appeared to take on a greenish tinge that gradually brightened as they drew nearer to the great city where the scarecrow ruled. the little party had traveled but a short two miles upon their way when the road of yellow brick was parted by a broad and swift river. tip was puzzled how to cross over; but after a time he discovered a man in a ferry-boat approaching from the other side of the stream. when the man reached the bank tip asked: "will you row us to the other side?" "yes, if you have money," returned the ferryman, whose face looked cross and disagreeable. "but i have no money," said tip. "none at all?" inquired the man. "none at all," answered the boy. "then i'll not break my back rowing you over," said the ferryman, decidedly. "what a nice man!" remarked the pumpkinhead, smilingly. the ferryman stared at him, but made no reply. tip was trying to think, for it was a great disappointment to him to find his journey so suddenly brought to an end. "i must certainly get to the emerald city," he said to the boatman; "but how can i cross the river if you do not take me?" the man laughed, and it was not a nice laugh. "that wooden horse will float," said he; "and you can ride him across. as for the pumpkin-headed loon who accompanies you, let him sink or swim--it won't matter greatly which." [illustration] "don't worry about me," said jack, smiling pleasantly upon the crabbed ferryman; "i'm sure i ought to float beautifully." tip thought the experiment was worth making, and the saw-horse, who did not know what danger meant, offered no objections whatever. so the boy led it down into the water and climbed upon its back. jack also waded in up to his knees and grasped the tail of the horse so that he might keep his pumpkin head above the water. "now," said tip, instructing the saw-horse, "if you wiggle your legs you will probably swim; and if you swim we shall probably reach the other side." the saw-horse at once began to wiggle its legs, which acted as oars and moved the adventurers slowly across the river to the opposite side. so successful was the trip that presently they were climbing, wet and dripping, up the grassy bank. tip's trouser-legs and shoes were thoroughly soaked; but the saw-horse had floated so perfectly that from his knees up the boy was entirely dry. as for the pumpkinhead, every stitch of his gorgeous clothing dripped water. "the sun will soon dry us," said tip; "and, anyhow, we are now safely across, in spite of the ferryman, and can continue our journey." "i didn't mind swimming, at all," remarked the horse. "nor did i," added jack. they soon regained the road of yellow brick, which proved to be a continuation of the road they had left on the other side, and then tip once more mounted the pumpkinhead upon the back of the saw-horse. "if you ride fast," said he, "the wind will help to dry your clothing. i will hold on to the horse's tail and run after you. in this way we all will become dry in a very short time." "then the horse must step lively," said jack. "i'll do my best," returned the saw-horse, cheerfully. tip grasped the end of the branch that served as tail to the saw-horse, and called loudly: "get-up!" the horse started at a good pace, and tip followed behind. then he decided they could go faster, so he shouted: "trot!" [illustration] now, the saw-horse remembered that this word was the command to go as fast as he could; so he began rocking along the road at a tremendous pace, and tip had hard work--running faster than he ever had before in his life--to keep his feet. soon he was out of breath, and although he wanted to call "whoa!" to the horse, he found he could not get the word out of his throat. then the end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing more than a dead branch, suddenly broke away, and the next minute the boy was rolling in the dust of the road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider dashed on and quickly disappeared in the distance. by the time tip had picked himself up and cleared the dust from his throat so he could say "whoa!" there was no further need of saying it, for the horse was long since out of sight. so he did the only sensible thing he could do. he sat down and took a good rest, and afterward began walking along the road. "some time i will surely overtake them," he reflected; "for the road will end at the gates of the emerald city, and they can go no further than that." meantime jack was holding fast to the post and the saw-horse was tearing along the road like a racer. neither of them knew tip was left behind, for the pumpkinhead did not look around and the saw-horse couldn't. as he rode, jack noticed that the grass and trees had become a bright emerald-green in color, so he guessed they were nearing the emerald city even before the tall spires and domes came into sight. at length a high wall of green stone, studded thick with emeralds, loomed up before them; and fearing the saw-horse would not know enough to stop and so might smash them both against this wall, jack ventured to cry "whoa!" as loud as he could. so suddenly did the horse obey that had it not been for his post jack would have been pitched off head foremost, and his beautiful face ruined. "that was a fast ride, dear father!" he exclaimed; and then, hearing no reply, he turned around and discovered for the first time that tip was not there. this apparent desertion puzzled the pumpkinhead, and made him uneasy. and while he was wondering what had become of the boy, and what he ought to do next under such trying circumstances, the gateway in the green wall opened and a man came out. this man was short and round, with a fat face that seemed remarkably good-natured. he was clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green hat upon his head and green spectacles over his eyes. bowing before the pumpkinhead he said: "i am the guardian of the gates of the emerald city. may i inquire who you are, and what is your business?" "my name is jack pumpkinhead," returned the other, smilingly; "but as to my business, i haven't the least idea in the world what it is." the guardian of the gates looked surprised, and shook his head as if dissatisfied with the reply. "what are you, a man or a pumpkin?" he asked, politely. "both, if you please," answered jack. "and this wooden horse--is it alive?" questioned the guardian. the horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at jack. then it gave a prance and brought one leg down on the guardian's toes. "ouch!" cried the man; "i'm sorry i asked that question. but the answer is most convincing. have you any errand, sir, in the emerald city?" "it seems to me that i have," replied the pumpkinhead, seriously; "but i cannot think what it is. my father knows all about it, but he is not here." "this is a strange affair--very strange!" declared the guardian. "but you seem harmless. folks do not smile so delightfully when they mean mischief." "as for that," said jack, "i cannot help my smile, for it is carved on my face with a jack-knife." "well, come with me into my room," resumed the guardian, "and i will see what can be done for you." so jack rode the saw-horse through the gate-way into a little room built into the wall. the guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very tall soldier--clothed in a green uniform--entered from the opposite door. this soldier carried a long green gun over his shoulder and had lovely green whiskers that fell quite to his knees. the guardian at once addressed him, saying: "here is a strange gentleman who doesn't know why he has come to the emerald city, or what he wants. tell me, what shall we do with him?" the soldier with the green whiskers looked at jack with much care and curiosity. finally he shook his head so positively that little waves rippled down his whiskers, and then he said: "i must take him to his majesty, the scarecrow." "but what will his majesty, the scarecrow, do with him?" asked the guardian of the gates. "that is his majesty's business," returned the soldier. "i have troubles enough of my own. all outside troubles must be turned over to his majesty. so put the spectacles on this fellow, and i'll take him to the royal palace." so the guardian opened a big box of spectacles and tried to fit a pair to jack's great round eyes. "i haven't a pair in stock that will really cover those eyes up," said the little man, with a sigh; "and your head is so big that i shall be obliged to tie the spectacles on." "but why need i wear spectacles?" asked jack. "it's the fashion here," said the soldier, "and they will keep you from being blinded by the glitter and glare of the gorgeous emerald city." "oh!" exclaimed jack. "tie them on, by all means. i don't wish to be blinded." "nor i!" broke in the saw-horse; so a pair of green spectacles was quickly fastened over the bulging knots that served it for eyes. then the soldier with the green whiskers led them through the inner gate and they at once found themselves in the main street of the magnificent emerald city. sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of the beautiful houses and the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds. even the green marble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a grand and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time. however, the pumpkinhead and the saw-horse, knowing nothing of wealth and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw through their green spectacles. they calmly followed after the green soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of green people who stared at them in surprise. when a green dog ran out and barked at them the saw-horse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg and sent the little animal howling into one of the houses; but nothing more serious than this happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace. the pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight into the scarecrow's presence; but the soldier would not permit that. so jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant led the saw-horse around to the rear while the soldier with the green whiskers escorted the pumpkinhead into the palace, by the front entrance. the stranger was left in a handsomely furnished waiting room while the soldier went to announce him. it so happened that at this hour his majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of something to do, so he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room. jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting the ruler of this magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs. but when he entered the room and saw for the first time his majesty the scarecrow seated upon his glittering throne, he stopped short in amazement. [illustration] [illustration: his majesty the scarecrow ] i suppose every reader of this book knows what a scarecrow is; but jack pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at meeting the remarkable king of the emerald city than by any other one experience of his brief life. his majesty the scarecrow was dressed in a suit of faded blue clothes, and his head was merely a small sack stuffed with straw, upon which eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to represent a face. the clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly or carelessly that his majesty's legs and arms seemed more bumpy than was necessary. upon his hands were gloves with long fingers, and these were padded with cotton. wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch's coat and also from his neck and boot-tops. upon his head he wore a heavy golden crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thoughtful expression to the painted face. indeed, the crown alone betokened majesty; in all else the scarecrow king was but a simple scarecrow--flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial. but if the strange appearance of his majesty the scarecrow seemed startling to jack, no less wonderful was the form of the pumpkinhead to the scarecrow. the purple trousers and pink waistcoat and red shirt hung loosely over the wooden joints tip had manufactured, and the carved face on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer considered life the jolliest thing imaginable. at first, indeed, his majesty thought his queer visitor was laughing at him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not without reason that the scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the wisest personage in the land of oz. he made a more careful examination of his visitor, and soon discovered that jack's features were carved into a smile and that he could not look grave if he wished to. the king was the first to speak. after regarding [illustration] jack for some minutes he said, in a tone of wonder: "where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?" "i beg your majesty's pardon," returned the pumpkinhead; "but i do not understand you." "what don't you understand?" asked the scarecrow. "why, i don't understand your language. you see, i came from the country of the gillikins, so that i am a foreigner." "ah, to be sure!" exclaimed the scarecrow. "i myself speak the language of the munchkins, which is also the language of the emerald city. but you, i suppose, speak the language of the pumpkinheads?" "exactly so, your majesty," replied the other, bowing; "so it will be impossible for us to understand one another." "that is unfortunate, certainly," said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "we must have an interpreter." "what is an interpreter?" asked jack. "a person who understands both my language and your own. when i say anything, the interpreter can tell you what i mean; and when you say anything the interpreter can tell me what _you_ mean. for the interpreter can speak both languages as well as understand them." "that is certainly clever," said jack, greatly pleased at finding so simple a way out of the difficulty. so the scarecrow commanded the soldier with the green whiskers to search among his people until he found one who understood the language of the gillikins as well as the language of the emerald city, and to bring that person to him at once. when the soldier had departed the scarecrow said: "won't you take a chair while we are waiting?" "your majesty forgets that i cannot understand you," replied the pumpkinhead. "if you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to do so." the scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair to a position behind the pumpkinhead. then he gave jack a sudden push that sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awkward a fashion that he doubled up like a jack-knife, and had hard work to untangle himself. "did you understand that sign?" asked his majesty, politely. "perfectly," declared jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head to the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that supported it. "you seem hastily made," remarked the scarecrow, watching jack's efforts to straighten himself. "not more so than your majesty," was the frank reply. "there is this difference between us," said the scarecrow, "that whereas i will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend." [illustration: "he gave jack a sudden push."] at this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand. she seemed very sweet and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green eyes and hair. a dainty green silk skirt reached to her knees, showing silk stockings embroidered with pea-pods, and green satin slippers with bunches of lettuce for decorations instead of bows or buckles. upon her silken waist clover leaves were embroidered, and she wore a jaunty little jacket trimmed with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size. "why, it's little jellia jamb!" exclaimed the scarecrow, as the green maiden bowed her pretty head before him. "do you understand the language of the gillikins, my dear?" "yes, your majesty," she answered, "for i was born in the north country." "then you shall be our interpreter," said the scarecrow, "and explain to this pumpkinhead all that i say, and also explain to me all that _he_ says. is this arrangement satisfactory?" he asked, turning toward his guest. "very satisfactory indeed," was the reply. "then ask him, to begin with," resumed the scarecrow, turning to jellia, "what brought him to the emerald city." but instead of this the girl, who had been staring at jack, said to him: "you are certainly a wonderful creature. who made you?" "a boy named tip," answered jack. "what does he say?" inquired the scarecrow. "my ears must have deceived me. what did he say?" "he says that your majesty's brains seem to have come loose," replied the girl, demurely. the scarecrow moved uneasily upon his throne, and felt of his head with his left hand. "what a fine thing it is to understand two different languages," he said, with a perplexed sigh. "ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to being put in jail for insulting the ruler of the emerald city. "i didn't insult you!" protested jack, indignantly. "tut--tut!" cautioned the scarecrow; "wait until jellia translates my speech. what have we got an interpreter for, if you break out in this rash way?" "all right, i'll wait," replied the pumpkinhead, in a surly tone--although his face smiled as genially as ever. "translate the speech, young woman." "his majesty inquires if you are hungry," said jellia. "oh, not at all!" answered jack, more pleasantly. "for it is impossible for me to eat." "it's the same way with me," remarked the scarecrow. "what did he say, jellia, my dear?" "he asked if you were aware that one of your eyes is painted larger than the other," said the girl, mischievously. "don't you believe her, your majesty," cried jack. "oh, i don't," answered the scarecrow, calmly. then, casting a sharp look at the girl, he asked: "are you quite certain you understand the languages of both the gillikins and the munchkins?" "quite certain, your majesty," said jellia jamb, trying hard not to laugh in the face of royalty. "then how is it that i seem to understand them myself?" inquired the scarecrow. "because they are one and the same!" declared the girl, now laughing merrily. "does not your majesty know that in all the land of oz but one language is spoken?" "is it indeed so?" cried the scarecrow, much relieved to hear this; "then i might easily have been my own interpreter!" "it was all my fault, your majesty," said jack, looking rather foolish, "i thought we must surely speak different languages, since we came from different countries." "this should be a warning to you never to think," returned the scarecrow, severely. "for unless one can think wisely it is better to remain a dummy--which you most certainly are." "i am!--i surely am!" agreed the pumpkinhead. "it seems to me," continued the scarecrow, more mildly, "that your manufacturer spoiled some good pies to create an indifferent man." "i assure your majesty that i did not ask to be created," answered jack. "ah! it was the same in my case," said the king, pleasantly. "and so, as we differ from all ordinary people, let us become friends." "with all my heart!" exclaimed jack. "what! have you a heart?" asked the scarecrow, surprised. "no; that was only imaginative--i might say, a figure of speech," said the other. "well, your most prominent figure seems to be a figure of wood; so i must beg you to restrain an imagination which, having no brains, you have no right to exercise," suggested the scarecrow, warningly. "to be sure!" said jack, without in the least comprehending. his majesty then dismissed jellia jamb and the soldier with the green whiskers, and when they were gone he took his new friend by the arm and led him into the courtyard to play a game of quoits. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: gen. jinjur's army of revolt ] tip was so anxious to rejoin his man jack and the saw-horse that he walked a full half the distance to the emerald city without stopping to rest. then he discovered that he was hungry and the crackers and cheese he had provided for the journey had all been eaten. while wondering what he should do in this emergency he came upon a girl sitting by the roadside. she wore a costume that struck the boy as being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being of emerald green and her skirt of four distinct colors--blue in front, yellow at the left side, red at the back and purple at the right side. fastening the waist in front were four buttons--the top one blue, the next yellow, a third red and the last purple. [illustration] the splendor of this dress was almost barbaric; so tip was fully justified in staring at the gown for some moments before his eyes were attracted by the pretty face above it. yes, the face was pretty enough, he decided; but it wore an expression of discontent coupled to a shade of defiance or audacity. while the boy stared the girl looked upon him calmly. a lunch basket stood beside her, and she held a dainty sandwich in one hand and a hard-boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident appetite that aroused tip's sympathy. he was just about to ask a share of the luncheon when the girl stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap. "there!" said she; "it is time for me to go. carry that basket for me and help yourself to its contents if you are hungry." tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat, following for a time the strange girl without bothering to ask questions. she walked along before him with swift strides, and there was about her an air of decision and importance that led him to suspect she was some great personage. finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran up beside her and tried to keep pace with her swift footsteps--a very difficult feat, for she was much taller than he, and evidently in a hurry. "thank you very much for the sandwiches," said tip, as he trotted along. "may i ask your name?" "i am general jinjur," was the brief reply. "oh!" said the boy, surprised. "what sort of a general?" "i command the army of revolt in this war," answered the general, with unnecessary sharpness. "oh!" he again exclaimed. "i didn't know there was a war." "you were not supposed to know it," she returned, "for we have kept it a secret; and considering that our army is composed entirely of girls," she added, with some pride, "it is surely a remarkable thing that our revolt is not yet discovered." "it is, indeed," acknowledged tip. "but where is your army?" "about a mile from here," said general jinjur. "the forces have assembled from all parts of the land of oz, at my express command. for this is the day we are to conquer his majesty the scarecrow, and wrest from him the throne. the army of revolt only awaits my coming to march upon the emerald city." "well!" declared tip, drawing a long breath, "this is certainly a surprising thing! may i ask why you wish to conquer his majesty the scarecrow?" "because the emerald city has been ruled by men long enough, for one reason," said the girl. "moreover, the city glitters with beautiful gems, which might far better be used for rings, bracelets and necklaces; and there is enough money in the king's treasury to buy every girl in our army a dozen new gowns. so we intend to conquer the city and run the government to suit ourselves." jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and decision that proved she was in earnest. "but war is a terrible thing," said tip, thoughtfully. "this war will be pleasant," replied the girl, cheerfully. "many of you will be slain!" continued the boy, in an awed voice. "oh, no," said jinjur. "what man would oppose a girl, or dare to harm her? and there is not an ugly face in my entire army." tip laughed. "perhaps you are right," said he. "but the guardian of the gate is considered a faithful guardian, and the king's army will not let the city be conquered without a struggle." "the army is old and feeble," replied general jinjur, scornfully. "his strength has all been used to grow whiskers, and his wife has such a temper that she has already pulled more than half of them out by the roots. when the wonderful wizard reigned the soldier with the green whiskers was a very good royal army, for people feared the wizard. but no one is afraid of the scarecrow, so his royal army don't count for much in time of war." after this conversation they proceeded some distance in silence, and before long reached a large clearing in the forest where fully four hundred young women were assembled. these were laughing and talking together as gaily as if they had gathered for a picnic instead of a war of conquest. they were divided into four companies, and tip noticed that all were dressed in costumes similar to that worn by general jinjur. the only real difference was that while those girls from the munchkin country had the blue strip in front of their skirts, those from the country of the quadlings had the red strip in front; and those from the country of the winkies had the yellow strip in front, and the gillikin girls wore the purple strip in front. all had green waists, representing the emerald city they intended to conquer, and the top button on each waist indicated by its color which country the wearer came from. the uniforms were jaunty and becoming, and quite effective when massed together. tip thought this strange army bore no weapons whatever; but in this he was wrong. for each girl had stuck through the knot of her back hair two long, glittering knitting-needles. [illustration] general jinjur immediately mounted the stump of a tree and addressed her army. "friends, fellow-citizens, and girls!" she said; "we are about to begin our great revolt against the men of oz! we march to conquer the emerald city--to dethrone the scarecrow king--to acquire thousands of gorgeous gems--to rifle the royal treasury--and to obtain power over our former oppressors!" "hurrah!" said those who had listened; but tip thought most of the army was too much engaged in chattering to pay attention to the words of the general. the command to march was now given, and the girls formed themselves into four bands, or companies, and set off with eager strides toward the emerald city. [illustration] the boy followed after them, carrying several baskets and wraps and packages which various members of the army of revolt had placed in his care. it was not long before they came to the green granite walls of the city and halted before the gateway. the guardian of the gate at once came out and looked at them curiously, as if a circus had come to town. he carried a bunch of keys swung round his neck by a golden chain; his hands were thrust carelessly into his pockets, and he seemed to have no idea at all that the city was threatened by rebels. speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said: "good morning, my dears! what can i do for you?" [illustration] "surrender instantly!" answered general jinjur, standing before him and frowning as terribly as her pretty face would allow her to. "surrender!" echoed the man, astounded. "why, it's impossible. it's against the law! i never heard of such a thing in my life." "still, you must surrender!" exclaimed the general, fiercely. "we are revolting!" "you don't look it," said the guardian, gazing from one to another, admiringly. "but we are!" cried jinjur, stamping her foot, impatiently; "and we mean to conquer the emerald city!" "good gracious!" returned the surprised guardian of the gates; "what a nonsensical idea! go home to your mothers, my good girls, and milk the cows and bake the bread. don't you know it's a dangerous thing to conquer a city?" "we are not afraid!" responded the general; and she looked so determined that it made the guardian uneasy. so he rang the bell for the soldier with the green whiskers, and the next minute was sorry he had done so. for immediately he was surrounded by a crowd of girls who drew the knitting-needles from their hair and began jabbing them at the guardian with the sharp points dangerously near his fat cheeks and blinking eyes. the poor man howled loudly for mercy and made no resistance when jinjur drew the bunch of keys from around his neck. [illustration: general jinjur and her army capture the city.] followed by her army the general now rushed to the gateway, where she was confronted by the royal army of oz--which was the other name for the soldier with the green whiskers. "halt!" he cried, and pointed his long gun full in the face of the leader. some of the girls screamed and ran back, but general jinjur bravely stood her ground and said, reproachfully: "why, how now? would you shoot a poor, defenceless girl?" "no," replied the soldier; "for my gun isn't loaded." "not loaded?" "no; for fear of accidents. and i've forgotten where i hid the powder and shot to load it with. but if you'll wait a short time i'll try to hunt them up." "don't trouble yourself," said jinjur, cheerfully. then she turned to her army and cried: "girls, the gun isn't loaded!" "hooray," shrieked the rebels, delighted at this good news, and they proceeded to rush upon the soldier with the green whiskers in such a crowd that it was a wonder they didn't stick the knitting-needles into one another. but the royal army of oz was too much afraid of women to meet the onslaught. he simply turned about and ran with all his might through the gate and toward the royal palace, while general jinjur and her mob flocked into the unprotected city. in this way was the emerald city captured without a drop of blood being spilled. the army of revolt had become an army of conquerors! [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the scarecrow plans an escape ] tip slipped away from the girls and followed swiftly after the soldier with the green whiskers. the invading army entered the city more slowly, for they stopped to dig emeralds out of the walls and paving-stones with the points of their knitting-needles. so the soldier and the boy reached the palace before the news had spread that the city was conquered. the scarecrow and jack pumpkinhead were still playing at quoits in the courtyard when the game was interrupted by the abrupt entrance of the royal army of oz, who came flying in without his hat or gun, his clothes in sad disarray and his long beard floating a yard behind him as he ran. "tally one for me," said the scarecrow, calmly. "what's wrong, my man?" he added, addressing the soldier. "oh! your majesty--your majesty! the city is conquered!" gasped the royal army, who was all out of breath. "this is quite sudden," said the scarecrow. "but please go and bar all the doors and windows of the palace, while i show this pumpkinhead how to throw a quoit." the soldier hastened to do this, while tip, who had arrived at his heels, remained in the courtyard to look at the scarecrow with wondering eyes. his majesty continued to throw the quoits as coolly as if no danger threatened his throne, but the pumpkinhead, having caught sight of tip, ambled toward the boy as fast as his wooden legs would go. "good afternoon, noble parent!" he cried, delightedly. "i'm glad to see you are here. that terrible saw-horse ran away with me." "i suspected it," said tip. "did you get hurt? are you cracked at all?" "no, i arrived safely," answered jack, "and his majesty has been very kind indeed to me." at this moment the soldier with the green whiskers returned, and the scarecrow asked: "by the way, who has conquered me?" "a regiment of girls, gathered from the four corners of the land of oz," replied the soldier, still pale with fear. "but where was my standing army at the time?" inquired his majesty, looking at the soldier, gravely. "your standing army was running," answered the fellow, honestly; "for no man could face the terrible weapons of the invaders." "well," said the scarecrow, after a moment's thought, "i don't mind much the loss of my throne, for it's a tiresome job to rule over the emerald city. and this crown is so heavy that it makes my head ache. but i hope the conquerors have no intention of injuring me, just because i happen to be the king." "i heard them say," remarked tip, with some hesitation, "that they intend to make a rag carpet of your outside and stuff their sofa-cushions with your inside." "then i am really in danger," declared his majesty, positively, "and it will be wise for me to consider a means to escape." "where can you go?" asked jack pumpkinhead. "why, to my friend the tin woodman, who rules over the winkies, and calls himself their emperor," was the answer. "i am sure he will protect me." [illustration] tip was looking out of the window. "the palace is surrounded by the enemy," said he. "it is too late to escape. they would soon tear you to pieces." the scarecrow sighed. "in an emergency," he announced, "it is always a good thing to pause and reflect. please excuse me while i pause and reflect." "but we also are in danger," said the pumpkinhead, anxiously. "if any of these girls understand cooking, my end is not far off!" "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow; "they're too busy to cook, even if they know how!" "but should i remain here a prisoner for any length of time," protested jack, "i'm liable to spoil." "ah! then you would not be fit to associate with," returned the scarecrow. "the matter is more serious than i suspected." "you," said the pumpkinhead, gloomily, "are liable to live for many years. my life is necessarily short. so i must take advantage of the few days that remain to me." "there, there! don't worry," answered the scarecrow, soothingly; "if you'll keep quiet long enough for me to think, i'll try to find some way for us all to escape." so the others waited in patient silence while the scarecrow walked to a corner and stood with his face to the wall for a good five minutes. at the end of that time he faced them with a more cheerful expression upon his painted face. "where is the saw-horse you rode here?" he asked the pumpkinhead. "why, i said he was a jewel, and so your man locked him up in the royal treasury," said jack. "it was the only place i could think of, your majesty," added the soldier, fearing he had made a blunder. "it pleases me very much," said the scarecrow. "has the animal been fed?" "oh, yes; i gave him a heaping peck of sawdust." "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "bring the horse here at once." the soldier hastened away, and presently they heard the clattering of the horse's wooden legs upon the pavement as he was led into the courtyard. his majesty regarded the steed critically. "he doesn't seem especially graceful," he remarked, musingly; "but i suppose he can run?" "he can, indeed," said tip, gazing upon the saw-horse admiringly. "then, bearing us upon his back, he must make a dash through the ranks of the rebels and carry us to my friend the tin woodman," announced the scarecrow. "he can't carry four!" objected tip. "no, but he may be induced to carry three," said his majesty. "i shall therefore leave my royal army behind. for, from the ease with which he was conquered, i have little confidence in his powers." "still, he can run," declared tip, laughing. "i expected this blow," said the soldier, sulkily; "but i can bear it. i shall disguise myself by cutting off my lovely green whiskers. and, after all, it is no more dangerous to face those reckless girls than to ride this fiery, untamed wooden horse!" "perhaps you are right," observed his majesty. "but, for my part, not being a soldier, i am fond of danger. now, my boy, you must mount first. and please sit as close to the horse's neck as possible." tip climbed quickly to his place, and the soldier and the scarecrow managed to hoist the pumpkinhead to a seat just behind him. there remained so little space for the king that he was liable to fall off as soon as the horse started. "fetch a clothesline," said the king to his army, "and tie us all together. then if one falls off we will all fall off." and while the soldier was gone for the clothesline his majesty continued, "it is well for me to be careful, for my very existence is in danger." "i have to be as careful as you do," said jack. "not exactly," replied the scarecrow; "for if anything happened to me, that would be the end of me. but if anything happened to you, they could use you for seed." the soldier now returned with a long line and tied all three firmly together, also lashing them to the body of the saw-horse; so there seemed little danger of their tumbling off. "now throw open the gates," commanded the scarecrow, "and we will make a dash to liberty or to death." the courtyard in which they were standing was located in the center of the great palace, which surrounded it on all sides. but in one place a passage led to an outer gateway, which the soldier had barred by order of his sovereign. it was through this gateway his majesty proposed to escape, and the royal army now led the saw-horse along the passage and unbarred the gate, which swung backward with a loud crash. "now," said tip to the horse, "you must save us all. run as fast as you can for the gate of the city, and don't let anything stop you." "all right!" answered the saw-horse, gruffly, and dashed away so suddenly that tip had to gasp for breath and hold firmly to the post he had driven into the creature's neck. [illustration: "we will make a dash to liberty or to death."] several of the girls, who stood outside guarding the palace, were knocked over by the saw-horse's mad rush. others ran screaming out of the way, and only one or two jabbed their knitting-needles frantically at the escaping prisoners. tip got one small prick in his left arm, which smarted for an hour afterward; but the needles had no effect upon the scarecrow or jack pumpkinhead, who never even suspected they were being prodded. as for the saw-horse, he made a wonderful record, upsetting a fruit cart, overturning several meek looking men, and finally bowling over the new guardian of the gate--a fussy little fat woman appointed by general jinjur. nor did the impetuous charger stop then. once outside the walls of the emerald city he dashed along the road to the west with fast and violent leaps that shook the breath out of the boy and filled the scarecrow with wonder. jack had ridden at this mad rate once before, so he devoted every effort to holding, with both hands, his pumpkin head upon its stick, enduring meantime the dreadful jolting with the courage of a philosopher. [illustration: the wooden steed gave one final leap.] "slow him up! slow him up!" shouted the scarecrow. "my straw is all shaking down into my legs." but tip had no breath to speak, so the saw-horse continued his wild career unchecked and with unabated speed. presently they came to the banks of a wide river, and without a pause the wooden steed gave one final leap and launched them all in mid-air. a second later they were rolling, splashing and bobbing about in the water, the horse struggling frantically to find a rest for its feet and its riders being first plunged beneath the rapid current and then floating upon the surface like corks. [illustration] [illustration: the journey to the tin woodman ] tip was well soaked and dripping water from every angle of his body; but he managed to lean forward and shout in the ear of the saw-horse: "keep still, you fool! keep still!" the horse at once ceased struggling and floated calmly upon the surface, its wooden body being as buoyant as a raft. "what does that word 'fool' mean?" enquired the horse. "it is a term of reproach," answered tip, somewhat ashamed of the expression. "i only use it when i am angry." "then it pleases me to be able to call you a fool, in return," said the horse. "for i did not make the river, nor put it in our way; so only a term of reproach is fit for one who becomes angry with me for falling into the water." "that is quite evident," replied tip; "so i will acknowledge myself in the wrong." then he called out to the pumpkinhead: "are you all right, jack?" there was no reply. so the boy called to the king: "are you all right, your majesty?" the scarecrow groaned. "i'm all wrong, somehow," he said, in a weak voice. "how very wet this water is!" tip was bound so tightly by the cord that he could not turn his head to look at his companions; so he said to the saw-horse: "paddle with your legs toward the shore." the horse obeyed, and although their progress was slow they finally reached the opposite river bank at a place where it was low enough to enable the creature to scramble upon dry land. with some difficulty the boy managed to get his knife out of his pocket and cut the cords that bound the riders to one another and to the wooden horse. he heard the scarecrow fall to the ground with a mushy sound, and then he himself quickly dismounted and looked at his friend jack. the wooden body, with its gorgeous clothing, still sat upright upon the horse's back; but the pumpkin head was gone, and only the sharpened stick that served for a neck was visible. as for the scarecrow, the straw in his body had shaken down with the jolting and packed itself into his legs and the lower part of his body--which appeared very plump and round while his upper half seemed like an empty sack. upon his head the scarecrow still wore the heavy crown, which had been sewed on to prevent his losing it; but the head was now so damp and limp that the weight of the gold and jewels sagged forward and crushed the painted face into a mass of wrinkles that made him look exactly like a japanese pug dog. tip would have laughed--had he not been so anxious about his man jack. but the scarecrow, however damaged, was all there, while the pumpkin head that was so necessary to jack's existence was missing; so the boy seized a long pole that fortunately lay near at hand and anxiously turned again toward the river. far out upon the waters he sighted the golden hue of the pumpkin, which gently bobbed up and down with the motion of the waves. at that moment it was quite out of tip's reach, but after a time it floated nearer and still nearer until the boy was able to reach it with his pole and draw it to the shore. then he brought it to the top of the bank, carefully wiped the water from its pumpkin face with his handkerchief, and ran with it to jack and replaced the head upon the man's neck. [illustration: tip rescues jack's pumpkin head.] "dear me!" were jack's first words. "what a dreadful experience! i wonder if water is liable to spoil pumpkins?" tip did not think a reply was necessary, for he knew that the scarecrow also stood in need of his help. so he carefully removed the straw from the king's body and legs, and spread it out in the sun to dry. the wet clothing he hung over the body of the saw-horse. "if water spoils pumpkins," observed jack, with a deep sigh, "then my days are numbered." "i've never noticed that water spoils pumpkins," returned tip; "unless the water happens to be boiling. if your head isn't cracked, my friend, you must be in fairly good condition." "oh, my head isn't cracked in the least," declared jack, more cheerfully. "then don't worry," retorted the boy. "care once killed a cat." "then," said jack, seriously, "i am very glad indeed that i am not a cat." the sun was fast drying their clothing, and tip stirred up his majesty's straw so that the warm rays might absorb the moisture and make it as crisp and dry as ever. when this had been accomplished he stuffed the scarecrow into symmetrical shape and smoothed out his face so that he wore his usual gay and charming expression. "thank you very much," said the monarch, brightly, as he walked about and found himself to be well balanced. "there are several distinct advantages in being a scarecrow. for if one has friends near at hand to repair damages, nothing very serious can happen to you." "i wonder if hot sunshine is liable to crack pumpkins," said jack, with an anxious ring in his voice. "not at all--not at all!" replied the scarecrow, gaily. "all you need fear, my boy, is old age. when your golden youth has decayed we shall quickly part company--but you needn't look forward to it; we'll discover the fact ourselves, and notify you. but come! let us resume our journey. i am anxious to greet my friend the tin woodman." so they remounted the saw-horse, tip holding to the post, the pumpkinhead clinging to tip, and the scarecrow with both arms around the wooden form of jack. [illustration: tip stuffs the scarecrow with dry straw.] "go slowly, for now there is no danger of pursuit," said tip to his steed. "all right!" responded the creature, in a voice rather gruff. "aren't you a little hoarse?" asked the pumpkinhead, politely. the saw-horse gave an angry prance and rolled one knotty eye backward toward tip. "see here," he growled, "can't you protect me from insult?" "to be sure!" answered tip, soothingly. "i am sure jack meant no harm. and it will not do for us to quarrel, you know; we must all remain good friends." "i'll have nothing more to do with that pumpkinhead," declared the saw-horse, viciously; "he loses his head too easily to suit me." there seemed no fitting reply to this speech, so for a time they rode along in silence. after a while the scarecrow remarked: "this reminds me of old times. it was upon this grassy knoll that i once saved dorothy from the stinging bees of the wicked witch of the west." "do stinging bees injure pumpkins?" asked jack, glancing around fearfully. "they are all dead, so it doesn't matter," replied the scarecrow. "and here is where nick chopper destroyed the wicked witch's grey wolves." "who was nick chopper?" asked tip. "that is the name of my friend the tin woodman," answered his majesty. "and here is where the winged monkeys captured and bound us, and flew away with little dorothy," he continued, after they had traveled a little way farther. "do winged monkeys ever eat pumpkins?" asked jack, with a shiver of fear. "i do not know; but you have little cause to worry, for the winged monkeys are now the slaves of glinda the good, who owns the golden cap that commands their services," said the scarecrow, reflectively. then the stuffed monarch became lost in thought, recalling the days of past adventures. and the saw-horse rocked and rolled over the flower-strewn fields and carried its riders swiftly upon their way. * * * * * twilight fell, bye and bye, and then the dark shadows of night. so tip stopped the horse and they all proceeded to dismount. "i'm tired out," said the boy, yawning wearily; "and the grass is soft and cool. let us lie down here and sleep until morning." "i can't sleep," said jack. "i never do," said the scarecrow. "i do not even know what sleep is," said the saw-horse. "still, we must have consideration for this poor boy, who is made of flesh and blood and bone, and gets tired," suggested the scarecrow, in his usual thoughtful manner. "i remember it was the same way with little dorothy. we always had to sit through the night while she slept." "i'm sorry," said tip, meekly, "but i can't help it. and i'm dreadfully hungry, too!" "here is a new danger!" remarked jack, gloomily. "i hope you are not fond of eating pumpkins." "not unless they're stewed and made into pies," answered the boy, laughing. "so have no fears of me, friend jack." "what a coward that pumpkinhead is!" said the saw-horse, scornfully. "you might be a coward yourself, if you knew you were liable to spoil!" retorted jack, angrily. "there!--there!" interrupted the scarecrow; "don't let us quarrel. we all have our weaknesses, dear friends; so we must strive to be considerate of one another. and since this poor boy is hungry and has nothing whatever to eat, let us all remain quiet and allow him to sleep; for it is said that in sleep a mortal may forget even hunger." "thank you!" exclaimed tip, gratefully. "your majesty is fully as good as you are wise--and that is saying a good deal!" he then stretched himself upon the grass and, using the stuffed form of the scarecrow for a pillow, was presently fast asleep. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: a nickel-plated emperor ] tip awoke soon after dawn, but the scarecrow had already risen and plucked, with his clumsy fingers, a double-handful of ripe berries from some bushes near by. these the boy ate greedily, finding them an ample breakfast, and afterward the little party resumed its journey. after an hour's ride they reached the summit of a hill from whence they espied the city of the winkies and noted the tall domes of the emperor's palace rising from the clusters of more modest dwellings. the scarecrow became greatly animated at this sight, and exclaimed: "how delighted i shall be to see my old friend the tin woodman again! i hope that he rules his people more successfully than i have ruled mine!" "is the tin woodman the emperor of the winkies?" asked the horse. "yes, indeed. they invited him to rule over them soon after the wicked witch was destroyed; and as nick chopper has the best heart in all the world i am sure he has proved an excellent and able emperor." "i thought that 'emperor' was the title of a person who rules an empire," said tip, "and the country of the winkies is only a kingdom." "don't mention that to the tin woodman!" exclaimed the scarecrow, earnestly. "you would hurt his feelings terribly. he is a proud man, as he has every reason to be, and it pleases him to be termed emperor rather than king." "i'm sure it makes no difference to me," replied the boy. the saw-horse now ambled forward at a pace so fast that its riders had hard work to stick upon its back; so there was little further conversation until they drew up beside the palace steps. an aged winkie, dressed in a uniform of silver cloth, came forward to assist them to alight. said the scarecrow to this personage: "show us at once to your master, the emperor." the man looked from one to another of the party in an embarrassed way, and finally answered: "i fear i must ask you to wait for a time. the emperor is not receiving this morning." "how is that?" enquired the scarecrow, anxiously. "i hope nothing has happened to him." "oh, no; nothing serious," returned the man. "but this is his majesty's day for being polished, and just now his august presence is thickly smeared with putz-pomade." "oh, i see!" cried the scarecrow, greatly reassured. "my friend was ever inclined to be a dandy, and i suppose he is now more proud than ever of his personal appearance." "he is, indeed," said the man, with a polite bow. "our mighty emperor has lately caused himself to be nickel-plated." "good gracious!" the scarecrow exclaimed at hearing this. "if his wit bears the same polish, how sparkling it must be! but show us in--i'm sure the emperor will receive us, even in his present state." "the emperor's state is always magnificent," said the man. "but i will venture to tell him of your arrival, and will receive his commands concerning you." so the party followed the servant into a splendid ante-room, and the saw-horse ambled awkwardly after them, having no knowledge that a horse might be expected to remain outside. the travelers were at first somewhat awed by their surroundings, and even the scarecrow seemed impressed as he examined the rich hangings of silver cloth caught up into knots and fastened with tiny silver axes. upon a handsome center-table stood a large silver oil-can, richly engraved with scenes from the past adventures of the tin woodman, dorothy, the cowardly lion and the scarecrow: the lines of the engraving being traced upon the silver in yellow gold. on the walls hung several portraits, that of the scarecrow seeming to be the most prominent and carefully executed, while a large painting of the famous wizard of oz, in the act of presenting the tin woodman with a heart, covered almost one entire end of the room. while the visitors gazed at these things in silent admiration they suddenly heard a loud voice in the next room exclaim: "well! well! well! what a great surprise!" and then the door burst open and nick chopper rushed into their midst and caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace that creased him into many folds and wrinkles. "my dear old friend! my noble comrade!" cried the tin woodman, joyfully; "how delighted i am to meet you once again!" [illustration: caught the scarecrow in a close and loving embrace.] and then he released the scarecrow and held him at arms' length while he surveyed the beloved, painted features. but, alas! the face of the scarecrow and many portions of his body bore great blotches of putz-pomade; for the tin woodman, in his eagerness to welcome his friend, had quite forgotten the condition of his toilet and had rubbed the thick coating of paste from his own body to that of his comrade. "dear me!" said the scarecrow, dolefully. "what a mess i'm in!" "never mind, my friend," returned the tin woodman, "i'll send you to my imperial laundry, and you'll come out as good as new." "won't i be mangled?" asked the scarecrow. "no, indeed!" was the reply. "but tell me, how came your majesty here? and who are your companions?" the scarecrow, with great politeness, introduced tip and jack pumpkinhead, and the latter personage seemed to interest the tin woodman greatly. "you are not very substantial, i must admit," said the emperor; "but you are certainly unusual, and therefore worthy to become a member of our select society." "i thank your majesty," said jack, humbly. [illustration] "i hope you are enjoying good health?" continued the woodman. "at present, yes;" replied the pumpkinhead, with a sigh; "but i am in constant terror of the day when i shall spoil." "nonsense!" said the emperor--but in a kindly, sympathetic tone. "do not, i beg of you, dampen today's sun with the showers of tomorrow. for before your head has time to spoil you can have it canned, and in that way it may be preserved indefinitely." tip, during this conversation, was looking at the woodman with undisguised amazement, and noticed that the celebrated emperor of the winkies was composed entirely of pieces of tin, neatly soldered and riveted together into the form of a man. he rattled and clanked a little, as he moved, but in the main he seemed to be most cleverly constructed, and his appearance was only marred by the thick coating of polishing-paste that covered him from head to foot. the boy's intent gaze caused the tin woodman to remember that he was not in the most presentable condition, so he begged his friends to excuse him while he retired to his private apartment and allowed his servants to polish him. this was accomplished in a short time, and when the emperor returned his nickel-plated body shone so magnificently that the scarecrow heartily congratulated him on his improved appearance. "that nickel-plate was, i confess, a happy thought," said nick; "and it was the more necessary because i had become somewhat scratched during my adventurous experiences. you will observe this engraved star upon my left breast. it not only indicates where my excellent heart lies, but covers very neatly the patch made by the wonderful wizard when he placed that valued organ in my breast with his own skillful hands." "is your heart, then, a hand-organ?" asked the pumpkinhead, curiously. "by no means," responded the emperor, with dignity. "it is, i am convinced, a strictly orthodox heart, although somewhat larger and warmer than most people possess." then he turned to the scarecrow and asked: "are your subjects happy and contented, my dear friend?" "i cannot say," was the reply; "for the girls of oz have risen in revolt and driven me out of the emerald city." "great goodness!" cried the tin woodman. "what a calamity! they surely do not complain of your wise and gracious rule?" "no; but they say it is a poor rule that don't work both ways," answered the scarecrow; "and these females are also of the opinion that men have ruled the land long enough. so they have captured my city, robbed the treasury of all its jewels, and are running things to suit themselves." "dear me! what an extraordinary idea!" cried the emperor, who was both shocked and surprised. "and i heard some of them say," said tip, "that they intend to march here and capture the castle and city of the tin woodman." "ah! we must not give them time to do that," said the emperor, quickly; "we will go at once and recapture the emerald city and place the scarecrow again upon his throne." [illustration: renovating his majesty, the scarecrow.] "i was sure you would help me," remarked the scarecrow in a pleased voice. "how large an army can you assemble?" "we do not need an army," replied the woodman. "we four, with the aid of my gleaming axe, are enough to strike terror into the hearts of the rebels." "we five," corrected the pumpkinhead. "five?" repeated the tin woodman. "yes; the saw-horse is brave and fearless," answered jack, forgetting his recent quarrel with the quadruped. the tin woodman looked around him in a puzzled way, for the saw-horse had until now remained quietly standing in a corner, where the emperor had not noticed him. tip immediately called the odd-looking creature to them, and it approached so awkwardly that it nearly upset the beautiful center-table and the engraved oil-can. "i begin to think," remarked the tin woodman as he looked earnestly at the saw-horse, "that wonders will never cease! how came this creature alive?" "i did it with a magic powder," modestly asserted the boy; "and the saw-horse has been very useful to us." "he enabled us to escape the rebels," added the scarecrow. "then we must surely accept him as a comrade," declared the emperor. "a live saw-horse is a distinct novelty, and should prove an interesting study. does he know anything?" "well, i cannot claim any great experience in life," the saw-horse answered for himself; "but i seem to learn very quickly, and often it occurs to me that i know more than any of those around me." "perhaps you do," said the emperor; "for experience does not always mean wisdom. but time is precious just now, so let us quickly make preparations to start upon our journey." the emperor called his lord high chancellor and instructed him how to run the kingdom during his absence. meanwhile the scarecrow was taken apart and the painted sack that served him for a head was carefully laundered and restuffed with the brains originally given him by the great wizard. his clothes were also cleaned and pressed by the imperial tailors, and his crown polished and again sewed upon his head, for the tin woodman insisted he should not renounce this badge of royalty. the scarecrow now presented a very respectable appearance, and although in no way addicted to vanity he was quite pleased with himself and strutted a trifle as he walked. while this was being done tip mended the wooden limbs of jack pumpkinhead and made them stronger than before, and the saw-horse was also inspected to see if he was in good working order. then bright and early the next morning they set out upon the return journey to the emerald city, the tin woodman bearing upon his shoulder a gleaming axe and leading the way, while the pumpkinhead rode upon the saw-horse and tip and the scarecrow walked upon either side to make sure that he didn't fall off or become damaged. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e. ] now, general jinjur--who, you will remember, commanded the army of revolt--was rendered very uneasy by the escape of the scarecrow from the emerald city. she feared, and with good reason, that if his majesty and the tin woodman joined forces, it would mean danger to her and her entire army; for the people of oz had not yet forgotten the deeds of these famous heroes, who had passed successfully through so many startling adventures. so jinjur sent post-haste for old mombi, the witch, and promised her large rewards if she would come to the assistance of the rebel army. mombi was furious at the trick tip had played upon her, as well as at his escape and the theft of the precious powder of life; so she needed no urging to induce her to travel to the emerald city to assist jinjur in defeating the scarecrow and the tin woodman, who had made tip one of their friends. mombi had no sooner arrived at the royal palace than she discovered, by means of her secret magic, that the adventurers were starting upon their journey to the emerald city; so she retired to a small room high up in a tower and locked herself in while she practised such arts as she could command to prevent the return of the scarecrow and his companions. that was why the tin woodman presently stopped and said: "something very curious has happened. i ought to know by heart every step of this journey, and yet i fear we have already lost our way." "that is quite impossible!" protested the scarecrow. "why do you think, my dear friend, that we have gone astray?" "why, here before us is a great field of sunflowers--and i never saw this field before in all my life." at these words they all looked around, only to find that they were indeed surrounded by a field of tall stalks, every stalk bearing at its top a gigantic sunflower. and not only were these flowers almost blinding in their vivid hues of red and gold, but each one whirled around upon its stalk like a miniature wind-mill, completely dazzling the vision of the beholders and so mystifying them that they knew not which way to turn. "it's witchcraft!" exclaimed tip. while they paused, hesitating and wondering, the tin woodman uttered a cry of impatience and advanced with swinging axe to cut down the stalks before him. but now the sunflowers suddenly stopped their rapid whirling, and the travelers plainly saw a girl's face appear in the center of each flower. these lovely faces looked upon the astonished band with mocking smiles, and then burst into a chorus of merry laughter at the dismay their appearance caused. "stop! stop!" cried tip, seizing the woodman's arm; "they're alive! they're girls!" at that moment the flowers began whirling again, and the faces faded away and were lost in the rapid revolutions. the tin woodman dropped his axe and sat down upon the ground. "it would be heartless to chop down those pretty creatures," said he, despondently; "and yet i do not know how else we can proceed upon our way." "they looked to me strangely like the faces of the army of revolt," mused the scarecrow. "but i cannot conceive how the girls could have followed us here so quickly." "i believe it's magic," said tip, positively, "and that someone is playing a trick upon us. i've known old mombi do things like that before. probably it's nothing more than an illusion, and there are no sunflowers here at all." "then let us shut our eyes and walk forward," suggested the woodman. "excuse me," replied the scarecrow. "my eyes are not painted to shut. because you happen to have tin eyelids, you must not imagine we are all built in the same way." "and the eyes of the saw-horse are knot eyes," said jack, leaning forward to examine them. "nevertheless, you must ride quickly forward," commanded tip, "and we will follow after you and so try to escape. my eyes are already so dazzled that i can scarcely see." so the pumpkinhead rode boldly forward, and tip grasped the stub tail of the saw-horse and followed with closed eyes. the scarecrow and the tin woodman brought up the rear, and before they had gone many yards a joyful shout from jack announced that the way was clear before them. then all paused to look backward, but not a trace of the field of sunflowers remained. more cheerfully, now, they proceeded upon their journey; but old mombi had so changed the appearance of the landscape that they would surely have been lost had not the scarecrow wisely concluded to take their direction from the sun. for no witchcraft could change the course of the sun, and it was therefore a safe guide. however, other difficulties lay before them. the saw-horse stepped into a rabbit hole and fell to the ground. the pumpkinhead was pitched high into the air, and his history would probably have ended at that exact moment had not the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin as it descended and saved it from injury. tip soon had it fitted to the neck again and replaced jack upon his feet. but the saw-horse did not escape so easily. for when his leg was pulled from the rabbit hole it was found to be broken short off, and must be replaced or repaired before he could go a step farther. "this is quite serious," said the tin woodman. "if there were trees near by i might soon manufacture another leg for this animal; but i cannot see even a shrub for miles around." [illustration: the tin woodman skillfully caught the pumpkin] "and there are neither fences nor houses in this part of the land of oz," added the scarecrow, disconsolately. "then what shall we do?" enquired the boy. "i suppose i must start my brains working," replied his majesty the scarecrow; "for experience has taught me that i can do anything if i but take time to think it out." "let us all think," said tip; "and perhaps we shall find a way to repair the saw-horse." so they sat in a row upon the grass and began to think, while the saw-horse occupied itself by gazing curiously upon its broken limb. "does it hurt?" asked the tin woodman, in a soft, sympathetic voice. "not in the least," returned the saw-horse; "but my pride is injured to find that my anatomy is so brittle." for a time the little group remained in silent thought. presently the tin woodman raised his head and looked over the fields. "what sort of creature is that which approaches us?" he asked, wonderingly. the others followed his gaze, and discovered coming toward them the most extraordinary object they had ever beheld. it advanced quickly and noiselessly over the soft grass and in a few minutes stood before the adventurers and regarded them with an astonishment equal to their own. the scarecrow was calm under all circumstances. "good morning!" he said, politely. the stranger removed his hat with a flourish, bowed very low, and then responded: [illustration] "good morning, one and all. i hope you are, as an aggregation, enjoying excellent health. permit me to present my card." with this courteous speech it extended a card toward the scarecrow, who accepted it, turned it over and over, and then handed it with a shake of his head to tip. the boy read aloud: "mr. h. m. woggle-bug, t. e." "dear me!" ejaculated the pumpkinhead, staring somewhat intently. "how very peculiar!" said the tin woodman. tip's eyes were round and wondering, and the saw-horse uttered a sigh and turned away its head. "are you really a woggle-bug?" enquired the scarecrow. "most certainly, my dear sir!" answered the stranger, briskly. "is not my name upon the card?" "it is," said the scarecrow. "but may i ask what 'h. m.' stands for?" "'h. m.' means highly magnified," returned the woggle-bug, proudly. "oh, i see." the scarecrow viewed the stranger critically. "and are you, in truth, highly magnified?" "sir," said the woggle-bug, "i take you for a gentleman of judgment and discernment. does it not occur to you that i am several thousand times greater than any woggle-bug you ever saw before? therefore it is plainly evident that i am highly magnified, and there is no good reason why you should doubt the fact." "pardon me," returned the scarecrow. "my brains are slightly mixed since i was last laundered. would it be improper for me to ask, also, what the 't. e.' at the end of your name stands for?" "those letters express my degree," answered the woggle-bug, with a condescending smile. "to be more explicit, the initials mean that i am thoroughly educated." "oh!" said the scarecrow, much relieved. tip had not yet taken his eyes off this wonderful personage. what he saw was a great, round, bug-like body supported upon two slender legs which ended in delicate feet--the toes curling upward. the body of the woggle-bug was rather flat, and judging from what could be seen of it was of a glistening dark brown color upon the back, while the front was striped with alternate bands of light brown and white, blending together at the edges. its arms were fully as slender as its legs, and upon a rather long neck was perched its head--not unlike the head of a man, except that its nose ended in a curling antenna, or "feeler," and its ears from the upper points bore antennã¦ that decorated the sides of its head like two miniature, curling pig tails. it must be admitted that the round, black eyes were rather bulging in appearance; but the expression upon the woggle-bug's face was by no means unpleasant. for dress the insect wore a dark-blue swallow-tail coat with a yellow silk lining and a flower in the button-hole; a vest of white duck that stretched tightly across the wide body; knickerbockers of fawn-colored plush, fastened at the knees with gilt buckles; and, perched upon its small head, was jauntily set a tall silk hat. standing upright before our amazed friends the woggle-bug appeared to be fully as tall as the tin woodman; and surely no bug in all the land of oz had ever before attained so enormous a size. "i confess," said the scarecrow, "that your abrupt appearance has caused me surprise, and no doubt has startled my companions. i hope, however, that this circumstance will not distress you. we shall probably get used to you in time." "do not apologize, i beg of you!" returned the woggle-bug, earnestly. "it affords me great pleasure to surprise people; for surely i cannot be classed with ordinary insects and am entitled to both curiosity and admiration from those i meet." "you are, indeed," agreed his majesty. "if you will permit me to seat myself in your august company," continued the stranger, "i will gladly relate my history, so that you will be better able to comprehend my unusual--may i say remarkable?--appearance." "you may say what you please," answered the tin woodman, briefly. so the woggle-bug sat down upon the grass, facing the little group of wanderers, and told them the following story: [illustration] [illustration: a highly magnified history ] "it is but honest that i should acknowledge at the beginning of my recital that i was born an ordinary woggle-bug," began the creature, in a frank and friendly tone. "knowing no better, i used my arms as well as my legs for walking, and crawled under the edges of stones or hid among the roots of grasses with no thought beyond finding a few insects smaller than myself to feed upon. "the chill nights rendered me stiff and motionless, for i wore no clothing, but each morning the warm rays of the sun gave me new life and restored me to activity. a horrible existence is this, but you must remember it is the regularly ordained existence of woggle-bugs, as well as of many other tiny creatures that inhabit the earth. "but destiny had singled me out, humble though i was, for a grander fate! one day i crawled near to a country school house, and my curiosity being excited by the monotonous hum of the students within, i made bold to enter and creep along a crack between two boards until i reached the far end, where, in front of a hearth of glowing embers, sat the master at his desk. "no one noticed so small a creature as a woggle-bug, and when i found that the hearth was even warmer and more comfortable than the sunshine, i resolved to establish my future home beside it. so i found a charming nest between two bricks and hid myself therein for many, many months. "professor nowitall is, doubtless, the most famous scholar in the land of oz, and after a few days i began to listen to the lectures and discourses he gave his pupils. not one of them was more attentive than the humble, unnoticed woggle-bug, and i acquired in this way a fund of knowledge that i will myself confess is simply marvelous. that is why i place 't. e.'--thoroughly educated--upon my cards; for my greatest pride lies in the fact that the world cannot produce another woggle-bug with a tenth part of my own culture and erudition." "i do not blame you," said the scarecrow. "education is a thing to be proud of. i'm educated myself. the mess of brains given me by the great wizard is considered by my friends to be unexcelled." "nevertheless," interrupted the tin woodman, "a good heart is, i believe, much more desirable than education or brains." "to me," said the saw-horse, "a good leg is more desirable than either." "could seeds be considered in the light of brains?" enquired the pumpkinhead, abruptly. "keep quiet!" commanded tip, sternly. "very well, dear father," answered the obedient jack. the woggle-bug listened patiently--even respectfully--to these remarks, and then resumed his story. "i must have lived fully three years in that secluded school-house hearth," said he, "drinking thirstily of the ever-flowing fount of limpid knowledge before me." "quite poetical," commented the scarecrow, nodding his head approvingly. [illustration: "caught me between his thumb and forefinger."] "but one day," continued the bug, "a marvelous circumstance occurred that altered my very existence and brought me to my present pinnacle of greatness. the professor discovered me in the act of crawling across the hearth, and before i could escape he had caught me between his thumb and forefinger. "'my dear children,' said he, 'i have captured a woggle-bug--a very rare and interesting specimen. do any of you know what a woggle-bug is?' "'no!' yelled the scholars, in chorus. "'then,' said the professor, 'i will get out my famous magnifying-glass and throw the insect upon a screen in a highly-magnified condition, that you may all study carefully its peculiar construction and become acquainted with its habits and manner of life.' "he then brought from a cupboard a most curious instrument, and before i could realize what had happened i found myself thrown upon a screen in a highly-magnified state--even as you now behold me. "the students stood up on their stools and craned their heads forward to get a better view of me, and two little girls jumped upon the sill of an open window where they could see more plainly. "'behold!' cried the professor, in a loud voice, 'this highly-magnified woggle-bug; one of the most curious insects in existence!' "being thoroughly educated, and knowing what is required of a cultured gentleman, at this juncture i stood upright and, placing my hand upon my bosom, made a very polite bow. my action, being unexpected, must have startled them, for one of the little girls perched upon the window-sill gave a scream and fell backward out the window, drawing her companion with her as she disappeared. [illustration: "the students stood up on their stools."] "the professor uttered a cry of horror and rushed away through the door to see if the poor children were injured by the fall. the scholars followed after him in a wild mob, and i was left alone in the school-room, still in a highly-magnified state and free to do as i pleased. "it immediately occurred to me that this was a good opportunity to escape. i was proud of my great size, and realized that now i could safely travel anywhere in the world, while my superior culture would make me a fit associate for the most learned person i might chance to meet. "so, while the professor picked the little girls--who were more frightened than hurt--off the ground, and the pupils clustered around him closely grouped, i calmly walked out of the school-house, turned a corner, and escaped unnoticed to a grove of trees that stood near." "wonderful!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead, admiringly. "it was, indeed," agreed the woggle-bug. "i have never ceased to congratulate myself for escaping while i was highly magnified; for even my excessive knowledge would have proved of little use to me had i remained a tiny, insignificant insect." [illustration] "i didn't know before," said tip, looking at the woggle-bug with a puzzled expression, "that insects wore clothes." "nor do they, in their natural state," returned the stranger. "but in the course of my wanderings i had the good fortune to save the ninth life of a tailor--tailors having, like cats, nine lives, as you probably know. the fellow was exceedingly grateful, for had he lost that ninth life it would have been the end of him; so he begged permission to furnish me with the stylish costume i now wear. it fits very nicely, does it not?" and the woggle-bug stood up and turned himself around slowly, that all might examine his person. "he must have been a good tailor," said the scarecrow, somewhat enviously. "he was a good-hearted tailor, at any rate," observed nick chopper. "but where were you going, when you met us?" tip asked the woggle-bug. "nowhere in particular," was the reply, "although it is my intention soon to visit the emerald city and arrange to give a course of lectures to select audiences on the 'advantages of magnification.'" "we are bound for the emerald city now," said the tin woodman; "so, if it pleases you to do so, you are welcome to travel in our company." the woggle-bug bowed with profound grace. "it will give me great pleasure," said he, "to accept your kind invitation; for nowhere in the land of oz could i hope to meet with so congenial a company." "that is true," acknowledged the pumpkinhead. "we are quite as congenial as flies and honey." "but--pardon me if i seem inquisitive--are you not all rather--ahem!--rather unusual?" asked the woggle-bug, looking from one to another with unconcealed interest. "not more so than yourself," answered the scarecrow. "everything in life is unusual until you get accustomed to it." "what rare philosophy!" exclaimed the woggle-bug, admiringly. "yes; my brains are working well today," admitted the scarecrow, an accent of pride in his voice. "then, if you are sufficiently rested and refreshed, let us bend our steps toward the emerald city," suggested the magnified one. "we can't," said tip. "the saw-horse has broken a leg, so he can't bend his steps. and there is no wood around to make him a new limb from. and we can't leave the horse behind because the pumpkinhead is so stiff in his joints that he has to ride." "how very unfortunate!" cried the woggle-bug. then he looked the party over carefully and said: "if the pumpkinhead is to ride, why not use one of his legs to make a leg for the horse that carries him? i judge that both are made of wood." "now, that is what i call real cleverness," said the scarecrow, approvingly. "i wonder my brains did not think of that long ago! get to work, my dear nick, and fit the pumpkinhead's leg to the saw-horse." jack was not especially pleased with this idea; but he submitted to having his left leg amputated by the tin woodman and whittled down to fit the left leg of the saw-horse. nor was the saw-horse especially pleased with the operation, either; for he growled a good deal about being "butchered," as he called it, and afterward declared that the new leg was a disgrace to a respectable saw-horse. "i beg you to be more careful in your speech," said the pumpkinhead, sharply. "remember, if you please, that it is my leg you are abusing." "i cannot forget it," retorted the saw-horse, "for it is quite as flimsy as the rest of your person." "flimsy! me flimsy!" cried jack, in a rage. "how dare you call me flimsy?" "because you are built as absurdly as a jumping-jack," sneered the horse, rolling his knotty eyes in a vicious manner. "even your head won't stay straight, and you never can tell whether you are looking backwards or forward!" "friends, i entreat you not to quarrel!" pleaded the tin woodman, anxiously. "as a matter of fact, we are none of us above criticism; so let us bear with each others' faults." "an excellent suggestion," said the woggle-bug, approvingly. "you must have an excellent heart, my metallic friend." "i have," returned nick, well pleased. "my heart is quite the best part of me. but now let us start upon our journey." they perched the one-legged pumpkinhead upon the saw-horse, and tied him to his seat with cords, so that he could not possibly fall off. and then, following the lead of the scarecrow, they all advanced in the direction of the emerald city. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: old mombi indulges in witchcraft ] they soon discovered that the saw-horse limped, for his new leg was a trifle too long. so they were obliged to halt while the tin woodman chopped it down with his axe, after which the wooden steed paced along more comfortably. but the saw-horse was not entirely satisfied, even yet. "it was a shame that i broke my other leg!" it growled. "on the contrary," airily remarked the woggle-bug, who was walking alongside, "you should consider the accident most fortunate. for a horse is never of much use until he has been broken." "i beg your pardon," said tip, rather provoked, for he felt a warm interest in both the saw-horse and his man jack; "but permit me to say that your joke is a poor one, and as old as it is poor." "still, it is a joke," declared the woggle-bug, firmly, "and a joke derived from a play upon words is considered among educated people to be eminently proper." "what does that mean?" enquired the pumpkinhead, stupidly. "it means, my dear friend," explained the woggle-bug, "that our language contains many words having a double meaning; and that to pronounce a joke that allows both meanings of a certain word, proves the joker a person of culture and refinement, who has, moreover, a thorough command of the language." "i don't believe that," said tip, plainly; "anybody can make a pun." "not so," rejoined the woggle-bug, stiffly. "it requires education of a high order. are you educated, young sir?" "not especially," admitted tip. "then you cannot judge the matter. i myself am thoroughly educated, and i say that puns display genius. for instance, were i to ride upon this saw-horse, he would not only be an animal--he would become an equipage. for he would then be a horse-and-buggy." at this the scarecrow gave a gasp and the tin woodman stopped short and looked reproachfully at the woggle-bug. at the same time the saw-horse loudly snorted his derision; and even the pumpkinhead put up his hand to hide the smile which, because it was carved upon his face, he could not change to a frown. but the woggle-bug strutted along as if he had made some brilliant remark, and the scarecrow was obliged to say: "i have heard, my dear friend, that a person can become over-educated; and although i have a high respect for brains, no matter how they may be arranged or classified, i begin to suspect that yours are slightly tangled. in any event, i must beg you to restrain your superior education while in our society." "we are not very particular," added the tin woodman; "and we are exceedingly kind hearted. but if your superior culture gets leaky again--" he did not complete the sentence, but he twirled his gleaming axe so carelessly that the woggle-bug looked frightened, and shrank away to a safe distance. the others marched on in silence, and the highly-magnified one, after a period of deep thought, said in an humble voice: "i will endeavor to restrain myself." "that is all we can expect," returned the scarecrow, pleasantly; and good nature being thus happily restored to the party, they proceeded upon their way. when they again stopped to allow tip to rest--the boy being the only one that seemed to tire--the tin woodman noticed many small, round holes in the grassy meadow. "this must be a village of the field mice," he said to the scarecrow. "i wonder if my old friend, the queen of the mice, is in this neighborhood." "if she is, she may be of great service to us," answered the scarecrow, who was impressed by a sudden thought. "see if you can call her, my dear nick." so the tin woodman blew a shrill note upon a silver whistle that hung around his neck, and presently a tiny grey mouse popped from a near-by hole and advanced fearlessly toward them. for the tin woodman had once saved her life, and the queen of the field mice knew he was to be trusted. "good day, your majesty," said nick, politely addressing the mouse; "i trust you are enjoying good health?" "thank you, i am quite well," answered the queen, demurely, as she sat up and displayed the tiny golden crown upon her head. "can i do anything to assist my old friends?" "you can, indeed," replied the scarecrow, eagerly. "let me, i intreat you, take a dozen of your subjects with me to the emerald city." "will they be injured in any way?" asked the queen, doubtfully. "i think not," replied the scarecrow. "i will carry them hidden in the straw which stuffs my body, and when i give them the signal by unbuttoning my jacket, they have only to rush out and scamper home again as fast as they can. by doing this they will assist me to regain my throne, which the army of revolt has taken from me." "in that case," said the queen, "i will not refuse your request. whenever you are ready, i will call twelve of my most intelligent subjects." "i am ready now," returned the scarecrow. then he lay flat upon the ground and unbuttoned his jacket, displaying the mass of straw with which he was stuffed. the queen uttered a little piping call, and in an instant a dozen pretty field mice had emerged from their holes and stood before their ruler, awaiting her orders. what the queen said to them none of our travelers could understand, for it was in the mouse language; but the field mice obeyed without hesitation, running one after the other to the scarecrow and hiding themselves in the straw of his breast. when all of the twelve mice had thus concealed themselves, the scarecrow buttoned his jacket securely and then arose and thanked the queen for her kindness. "one thing more you might do to serve us," suggested the tin woodman; "and that is to run ahead and show us the way to the emerald city. for some enemy is evidently trying to prevent us from reaching it." "i will do that gladly," returned the queen. "are you ready?" the tin woodman looked at tip. "i'm rested," said the boy. "let us start." then they resumed their journey, the little grey queen of the field mice running swiftly ahead and then pausing until the travelers drew near, when away she would dart again. without this unerring guide the scarecrow and his comrades might never have gained the emerald city; for many were the obstacles thrown in their way by the arts of old mombi. yet not one of the obstacles really existed--all were cleverly contrived deceptions. for when they came to the banks of a rushing river that threatened to bar their way the little queen kept steadily on, passing through the seeming flood in safety; and our travelers followed her without encountering a single drop of water. again, a high wall of granite towered high above their heads and opposed their advance. but the grey field mouse walked straight through it, and the others did the same, the wall melting into mist as they passed it. afterward, when they had stopped for a moment to allow tip to rest, they saw forty roads branching off from their feet in forty different directions; and soon these forty roads began whirling around like a mighty wheel, first in one direction and then in the other, completely bewildering their vision. but the queen called for them to follow her and darted off in a straight line; and when they had gone a few paces the whirling pathways vanished and were seen no more. mombi's last trick was most fearful of all. she sent a sheet of crackling flame rushing over the meadow to consume them; and for the first time the scarecrow became afraid and turned to fly. "if that fire reaches me i will be gone in no time!" said he, trembling until his straw rattled. "it's the most dangerous thing i ever encountered." "i'm off, too!" cried the saw-horse, turning and prancing with agitation; "for my wood is so dry it would burn like kindlings." "is fire dangerous to pumpkins?" asked jack, fearfully. [illustration] "you'll be baked like a tart--and so will i!" answered the woggle-bug, getting down on all fours so he could run the faster. but the tin woodman, having no fear of fire, averted the stampede by a few sensible words. "look at the field mouse!" he shouted. "the fire does not burn her in the least. in fact, it is no fire at all, but only a deception." indeed, to watch the little queen march calmly through the advancing flames restored courage to every member of the party, and they followed her without being even scorched. "this is surely a most extraordinary adventure," said the woggle-bug, who was greatly amazed; "for it upsets all the natural laws that i heard professor nowitall teach in the school-house." "of course it does," said the scarecrow, wisely. "all magic is unnatural, and for that reason is to be feared and avoided. but i see before us the gates of the emerald city, so i imagine we have now overcome all the magical obstacles that seemed to oppose us." indeed, the walls of the city were plainly visible, and the queen of the field mice, who had guided them so faithfully, came near to bid them good-bye. "we are very grateful to your majesty for your kind assistance," said the tin woodman, bowing before the pretty creature. "i am always pleased to be of service to my friends," answered the queen, and in a flash she had darted away upon her journey home. [illustration] [illustration: the prisoners of the queen ] approaching the gateway of the emerald city the travelers found it guarded by two girls of the army of revolt, who opposed their entrance by drawing the knitting-needles from their hair and threatening to prod the first that came near. but the tin woodman was not afraid. "at the worst they can but scratch my beautiful nickel-plate," he said. "but there will be no 'worst,' for i think i can manage to frighten these absurd soldiers very easily. follow me closely, all of you!" then, swinging his axe in a great circle to right and left before him, he advanced upon the gate, and the others followed him without hesitation. the girls, who had expected no resistance whatever, were terrified by the sweep of the glittering axe and fled screaming into the city; so that our travelers passed the gates in safety and marched down the green marble pavement of the wide street toward the royal palace. "at this rate we will soon have your majesty upon the throne again," said the tin woodman, laughing at his easy conquest of the guards. "thank you, friend nick," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "nothing can resist your kind heart and your sharp axe." as they passed the rows of houses they saw through the open doors that men were sweeping and dusting and washing dishes, while the women sat around in groups, gossiping and laughing. "what has happened?" the scarecrow asked a sad-looking man with a bushy beard, who wore an apron and was wheeling a baby-carriage along the sidewalk. "why, we've had a revolution, your majesty--as you ought to know very well," replied the man; "and since you went away the women have been running things to suit themselves. i'm glad you have decided to come back and restore order, for doing housework and minding the children is wearing out the strength of every man in the emerald city." "hm!" said the scarecrow, thoughtfully. "if it is such hard work as you say, how did the women manage it so easily?" "i really do not know," replied the man, with a deep sigh. "perhaps the women are made of cast-iron." no movement was made, as they passed along the street, to oppose their progress. several of the women stopped their gossip long enough to cast curious looks upon our friends, but immediately they would turn away with a laugh or a sneer and resume their chatter. and when they met with several girls belonging to the army of revolt, those soldiers, instead of being alarmed or appearing surprised, merely stepped out of the way and allowed them to advance without protest. this action rendered the scarecrow uneasy. "i'm afraid we are walking into a trap," said he. "nonsense!" returned nick chopper, confidently; "the silly creatures are conquered already!" but the scarecrow shook his head in a way that expressed doubt, and tip said: "it's too easy, altogether. look out for trouble ahead." "i will," returned his majesty. [illustration: "it's too easy, altogether."] unopposed they reached the royal palace and marched up the marble steps, which had once been thickly encrusted with emeralds but were now filled with tiny holes where the jewels had been ruthlessly torn from their settings by the army of revolt. and so far not a rebel barred their way. through the arched hallways and into the magnificent throne room marched the tin woodman and his followers, and here, when the green silken curtains fell behind them, they saw a curious sight. seated within the glittering throne was general jinjur, with the scarecrow's second-best crown upon her head, and the royal sceptre in her right hand. a box of caramels, from which she was eating, rested in her lap, and the girl seemed entirely at ease in her royal surroundings. the scarecrow stepped forward and confronted her, while the tin woodman leaned upon his axe and the others formed a half-circle back of his majesty's person. "how dare you sit in my throne?" demanded the scarecrow, sternly eyeing the intruder. "don't you know you are guilty of treason, and that there is a law against treason?" "the throne belongs to whoever is able to take it," answered jinjur, as she slowly ate another caramel. "i have taken it, as you see; so just now i am the queen, and all who oppose me are guilty of treason, and must be punished by the law you have just mentioned." this view of the case puzzled the scarecrow. "how is it, friend nick?" he asked, turning to the tin woodman. "why, when it comes to law, i have nothing to say," answered that personage; "for laws were never meant to be understood, and it is foolish to make the attempt." "then what shall we do?" asked the scarecrow, in dismay. "why don't you marry the queen? and then you can both rule," suggested the woggle-bug. jinjur glared at the insect fiercely. "why don't you send her back to her mother, where she belongs?" asked jack pumpkinhead. jinjur frowned. "why don't you shut her up in a closet until she behaves herself, and promises to be good?" enquired tip. jinjur's lip curled scornfully. "or give her a good shaking!" added the saw-horse. "no," said the tin woodman, "we must treat the poor girl with gentleness. let us give her all the jewels she can carry, and send her away happy and contented." at this queen jinjur laughed aloud, and the next minute clapped her pretty hands together thrice, as if for a signal. "you are very absurd creatures," said she; "but i am tired of your nonsense and have no time to bother with you longer." while the monarch and his friends listened in amazement to this impudent speech, a startling thing happened. the tin woodman's axe was snatched from his grasp by some person behind him, and he found himself disarmed and helpless. at the same instant a shout of laughter rang in the ears of the devoted band, and turning to see whence this came they found themselves surrounded by the army of revolt, the girls bearing in either hand their glistening knitting-needles. the entire throne room seemed to be filled with the rebels, and the scarecrow and his comrades realized that they were prisoners. "you see how foolish it is to oppose a woman's wit," said jinjur, gaily; "and this event only proves that i am more fit to rule the emerald city than a scarecrow. i bear you no ill will, i assure you; but lest you should prove troublesome to me in the future i shall order you all to be destroyed. that is, all except the boy, who belongs to old mombi and must be restored to her keeping. the rest of you are not human, and therefore it will not be wicked to demolish you. the saw-horse and the pumpkinhead's body i will have chopped up for kindling-wood; and the pumpkin shall be made into tarts. the scarecrow will do nicely to start a bonfire, and the tin man can be cut into small pieces and fed to the goats. as for this immense woggle-bug--" "highly magnified, if you please!" interrupted the insect. "i think i will ask the cook to make green-turtle soup of you," continued the queen, reflectively. the woggle-bug shuddered. "or, if that won't do, we might use you for a hungarian goulash, stewed and highly spiced," she added, cruelly. this programme of extermination was so terrible that the prisoners looked upon one another in a panic of fear. the scarecrow alone did not give way to despair. he stood quietly before the queen and his brow was wrinkled in deep thought as he strove to find some means to escape. while thus engaged he felt the straw within his breast move gently. at once his expression changed from sadness to joy, and raising his hand he quickly unbuttoned the front of his jacket. [illustration] this action did not pass unnoticed by the crowd of girls clustering about him, but none of them suspected what he was doing until a tiny grey mouse leaped from his bosom to the floor and scampered away between the feet of the army of revolt. another mouse quickly followed; then another and another, in rapid succession. and suddenly such a scream of terror went up from the army that it might easily have filled the stoutest heart with consternation. the flight that ensued turned to a stampede, and the stampede to a panic. for while the startled mice rushed wildly about the room the scarecrow had only time to note a whirl of skirts and a twinkling of feet as the girls disappeared from the palace--pushing and crowding one another in their mad efforts to escape. the queen, at the first alarm, stood up on the cushions of the throne and began to dance frantically upon her tiptoes. then a mouse ran up the cushions, and with a terrified leap poor jinjur shot clear over the head of the scarecrow and escaped through an archway--never pausing in her wild career until she had reached the city gates. so, in less time than i can explain, the throne room was deserted by all save the scarecrow and his friends, and the woggle-bug heaved a deep sigh of relief as he exclaimed: "thank goodness, we are saved!" "for a time, yes;" answered the tin woodman. "but the enemy will soon return, i fear." "let us bar all the entrances to the palace!" said the scarecrow. "then we shall have time to think what is best to be done." so all except jack pumpkinhead, who was still tied fast to the saw-horse, ran to the various entrances of the royal palace and closed the heavy doors, bolting and locking them securely. then, knowing that the army of revolt could not batter down the barriers in several days, the adventurers gathered once more in the throne room for a council of war. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the scarecrow takes time to think ] "it seems to me," began the scarecrow, when all were again assembled in the throne room, "that the girl jinjur is quite right in claiming to be queen. and if she is right, then i am wrong, and we have no business to be occupying her palace." "but you were the king until she came," said the woggle-bug, strutting up and down with his hands in his pockets; "so it appears to me that she is the interloper instead of you." "especially as we have just conquered her and put her to flight," added the pumpkinhead, as he raised his hands to turn his face toward the scarecrow. "have we really conquered her?" asked the scarecrow, quietly. "look out of the window, and tell me what you see." tip ran to the window and looked out. "the palace is surrounded by a double row of girl soldiers," he announced. "i thought so," returned the scarecrow. "we are as truly their prisoners as we were before the mice frightened them from the palace." "my friend is right," said nick chopper, who had been polishing his breast with a bit of chamois-leather. "jinjur is still the queen, and we are her prisoners." "but i hope she cannot get at us," exclaimed the pumpkinhead, with a shiver of fear. "she threatened to make tarts of me, you know." "don't worry," said the tin woodman. "it cannot matter greatly. if you stay shut up here you will spoil in time, anyway. a good tart is far more admirable than a decayed intellect." "very true," agreed the scarecrow. "oh, dear!" moaned jack; "what an unhappy lot is mine! why, dear father, did you not make me out of tin--or even out of straw--so that i would keep indefinitely." "shucks!" returned tip, indignantly. "you ought to be glad that i made you at all." then he added, reflectively, "everything has to come to an end, some time." "but i beg to remind you," broke in the woggle-bug, who had a distressed look in his bulging, round eyes, "that this terrible queen jinjur suggested making a goulash of me--me! the only highly magnified and thoroughly educated woggle-bug in the wide, wide world!" "i think it was a brilliant idea," remarked the scarecrow, approvingly. "don't you imagine he would make a better soup?" asked the tin woodman, turning toward his friend. "well, perhaps," acknowledged the scarecrow. the woggle-bug groaned. "i can see, in my mind's eye," said he, mournfully, "the goats eating small pieces of my dear comrade, the tin woodman, while my soup is being cooked on a bonfire built of the saw-horse and jack pumpkinhead's body, and queen jinjur watches me boil while she feeds the flames with my friend the scarecrow!" this morbid picture cast a gloom over the entire party, making them restless and anxious. "it can't happen for some time," said the tin woodman, trying to speak cheerfully; "for we shall be able to keep jinjur out of the palace until she manages to break down the doors." "and in the meantime i am liable to starve to death, and so is the woggle-bug," announced tip. "as for me," said the woggle-bug, "i think that i could live for some time on jack pumpkinhead. not that i prefer pumpkins for food; but i believe they are somewhat nutritious, and jack's head is large and plump." "how heartless!" exclaimed the tin woodman, greatly shocked. "are we cannibals, let me ask? or are we faithful friends?" "i see very clearly that we cannot stay shut up in this palace," said the scarecrow, with decision. "so let us end this mournful talk and try to discover a means to escape." at this suggestion they all gathered eagerly around the throne, wherein was seated the scarecrow, and as tip sat down upon a stool there fell from his pocket a pepper-box, which rolled upon the floor. "what is this?" asked nick chopper, picking up the box. "be careful!" cried the boy. "that's my powder of life. don't spill it, for it is nearly gone." "and what is the powder of life?" enquired the scarecrow, as tip replaced the box carefully in his pocket. "it's some magical stuff old mombi got from a crooked sorcerer," explained the boy. "she brought jack to life with it, and afterward i used it to bring the saw-horse to life. i guess it will make anything live that is sprinkled with it; but there's only about one dose left." "then it is very precious," said the tin woodman. "indeed it is," agreed the scarecrow. "it may prove our best means of escape from our difficulties. i believe i will think for a few minutes; so i will thank you, friend tip, to get out your knife and rip this heavy crown from my forehead." tip soon cut the stitches that had fastened the crown to the scarecrow's head, and the former monarch of the emerald city removed it with a sigh of relief and hung it on a peg beside the throne. [illustration] "that is my last memento of royalty," said he; "and i'm glad to get rid of it. the former king of this city, who was named pastoria, lost the crown to the wonderful wizard, who passed it on to me. now the girl jinjur claims it, and i sincerely hope it will not give her a headache." "a kindly thought, which i greatly admire," said the tin woodman, nodding approvingly. "and now i will indulge in a quiet think," continued the scarecrow, lying back in the throne. the others remained as silent and still as possible, so as not to disturb him; for all had great confidence in the extraordinary brains of the scarecrow. and, after what seemed a very long time indeed to the anxious watchers, the thinker sat up, looked upon his friends with his most whimsical expression, and said: "my brains work beautifully today. i'm quite proud of them. now, listen! if we attempt to escape through the doors of the palace we shall surely be captured. and, as we can't escape through the ground, there is only one other thing to be done. we must escape through the air!" he paused to note the effect of these words; but all his hearers seemed puzzled and unconvinced. "the wonderful wizard escaped in a balloon," he continued. "we don't know how to make a balloon, of course; but any sort of thing that can fly through the air can carry us easily. so i suggest that my friend the tin woodman, who is a skillful mechanic, shall build some sort of a machine, with good strong wings, to carry us; and our friend tip can then bring the thing to life with his magical powder." "bravo!" cried nick chopper. "what splendid brains!" murmured jack. "really quite clever!" said the educated woggle-bug. [illustration] "i believe it can be done," declared tip; "that is, if the tin woodman is equal to making the thing." "i'll do my best," said nick, cheerily; "and, as a matter of fact, i do not often fail in what i attempt. but the thing will have to be built on the roof of the palace, so it can rise comfortably into the air." "to be sure," said the scarecrow. "then let us search through the palace," continued the tin woodman, "and carry all the material we can find to the roof, where i will begin my work." "first, however," said the pumpkinhead, "i beg you will release me from this horse, and make me another leg to walk with. for in my present condition i am of no use to myself or to anyone else." so the tin woodman knocked a mahogany center-table to pieces with his axe and fitted one of the legs, which was beautifully carved, on to the body of jack pumpkinhead, who was very proud of the acquisition. "it seems strange," said he, as he watched the tin woodman work, "that my left leg should be the most elegant and substantial part of me." "that proves you are unusual," returned the scarecrow; "and i am convinced that the only people worthy of consideration in this world are the unusual ones. for the common folks are like the leaves of a tree, and live and die unnoticed." "spoken like a philosopher!" cried the woggle-bug, as he assisted the tin woodman to set jack upon his feet. "how do you feel now?" asked tip, watching the pumpkinhead stump around to try his new leg. "as good as new," answered jack, joyfully, "and quite ready to assist you all to escape." "then let us get to work," said the scarecrow, in a business-like tone. so, glad to be doing anything that might lead to the end of their captivity, the friends separated to wander over the palace in search of fitting material to use in the construction of their aerial machine. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the astonishing flight of the gump ] when the adventurers reassembled upon the roof it was found that a remarkably queer assortment of articles had been selected by the various members of the party. no one seemed to have a very clear idea of what was required, but all had brought something. the woggle-bug had taken from its position over the mantle-piece in the great hallway the head of a gump, which was adorned with wide-spreading antlers; and this, with great care and greater difficulty, the insect had carried up the stairs to the roof. this gump resembled an elk's head, only the nose turned upward in a saucy manner and there were whiskers upon its chin, like those of a billy-goat. why the woggle-bug selected this article he could not have explained, except that it had aroused his curiosity. tip, with the aid of the saw-horse, had brought a large, upholstered sofa to the roof. it was an old-fashioned piece of furniture, with high back and ends, and it was so heavy that even by resting the greatest weight upon the back of the saw-horse, the boy found himself out of breath when at last the clumsy sofa was dumped upon the roof. the pumpkinhead had brought a broom, which was the first thing he saw. the scarecrow arrived with a coil of clotheslines and ropes which he had taken from the courtyard, and in his trip up the stairs he had become so entangled in the loose ends of the ropes that both he and his burden tumbled in a heap upon the roof and might have rolled off if tip had not rescued him. the tin woodman appeared last. he also had been to the courtyard, where he had cut four great, spreading leaves from a huge palm-tree that was the pride of all the inhabitants of the emerald city. "my dear nick!" exclaimed the scarecrow, seeing what his friend had done; "you have been guilty of the greatest crime any person can commit in the emerald city. if i remember rightly, the penalty for chopping leaves from the royal palm-tree is to be killed seven times and afterward imprisoned for life." [illustration: all brought something to the roof.] "it cannot be helped now," answered the tin woodman, throwing down the big leaves upon the roof. "but it may be one more reason why it is necessary for us to escape. and now let us see what you have found for me to work with." many were the doubtful looks cast upon the heap of miscellaneous material that now cluttered the roof, and finally the scarecrow shook his head and remarked: "well, if friend nick can manufacture, from this mess of rubbish, a thing that will fly through the air and carry us to safety, then i will acknowledge him to be a better mechanic than i suspected." but the tin woodman seemed at first by no means sure of his powers, and only after polishing his forehead vigorously with the chamois-leather did he resolve to undertake the task. "the first thing required for the machine," said he, "is a body big enough to carry the entire party. this sofa is the biggest thing we have, and might be used for a body. but, should the machine ever tip sideways, we would all slide off and fall to the ground." "why not use two sofas?" asked tip. "there's another one just like this down stairs." "that is a very sensible suggestion," exclaimed the tin woodman. "you must fetch the other sofa at once." so tip and the saw-horse managed, with much labor, to get the second sofa to the roof; and when the two were placed together, edge to edge, the backs and ends formed a protecting rampart all around the seats. "excellent!" cried the scarecrow. "we can ride within this snug nest quite at our ease." the two sofas were now bound firmly together with ropes and clotheslines, and then nick chopper fastened the gump's head to one end. "that will show which is the front end of the thing," said he, greatly pleased with the idea. "and, really, if you examine it critically, the gump looks very well as a figure-head. these great palm-leaves, for which i have endangered my life seven times, must serve us as wings." "are they strong enough?" asked the boy. "they are as strong as anything we can get," answered the woodman; "and although they are not in proportion to the thing's body, we are not in a position to be very particular." so he fastened the palm-leaves to the sofas, two on each side. said the woggle-bug, with considerable admiration: "the thing is now complete, and only needs to be brought to life." "stop a moment!" exclaimed jack. "are you not going to use my broom?" "what for?" asked the scarecrow. "why, it can be fastened to the back end for a tail," answered the pumpkinhead. "surely you would not call the thing complete without a tail." "hm!" said the tin woodman; "i do not see the use of a tail. we are not trying to copy a beast, or a fish, or a bird. all we ask of the thing is to carry us through the air." "perhaps, after the thing is brought to life, it can use a tail to steer with," suggested the scarecrow. "for if it flies through the air it will not be unlike a bird, and i've noticed that all birds have tails, which they use for a rudder while flying." "very well," answered nick, "the broom shall be used for a tail," and he fastened it firmly to the back end of the sofa body. tip took the pepper-box from his pocket. "the thing looks very big," said he, anxiously; "and i am not sure there is enough powder left to bring all of it to life. but i'll make it go as far as possible." "put most on the wings," said nick chopper; "for they must be made as strong as possible." "and don't forget the head!" exclaimed the woggle-bug. "or the tail!" added jack pumpkinhead. "do be quiet," said tip, nervously; "you must give me a chance to work the magic charm in the proper manner." very carefully he began sprinkling the thing with the precious powder. each of the four wings was first lightly covered with a layer; then the sofas were sprinkled, and the broom given a slight coating. "the head! the head! don't, i beg of you, forget the head!" cried the woggle-bug, excitedly. "there's only a little of the powder left," announced tip, looking within the box. "and it seems to me it is more important to bring the legs of the sofas to life than the head." "not so," decided the scarecrow. "every thing must have a head to direct it; and since this creature is to fly, and not walk, it is really unimportant whether its legs are alive or not." so tip abided by this decision and sprinkled the gump's head with the remainder of the powder. "now," said he, "keep silence while i work the charm!" having heard old mombi pronounce the magic words, and having also succeeded in bringing the saw-horse to life, tip did not hesitate an instant in speaking the three cabalistic words, each accompanied by the peculiar gesture of the hands. it was a grave and impressive ceremony. as he finished the incantation the thing shuddered throughout its huge bulk, the gump gave the screeching cry that is familiar to those animals, and then the four wings began flopping furiously. [illustration] tip managed to grasp a chimney, else he would have been blown off the roof by the terrible breeze raised by the wings. the scarecrow, being light in weight, was caught up bodily and borne through the air until tip luckily seized him by one leg and held him fast. the woggle-bug lay flat upon the roof and so escaped harm, and the tin woodman, whose weight of tin anchored him firmly, threw both arms around jack pumpkinhead and managed to save him. the saw-horse toppled over upon his back and lay with his legs waving helplessly above him. and now, while all were struggling to recover themselves, the thing rose slowly from the roof and mounted into the air. "here! come back!" cried tip, in a frightened voice, as he clung to the chimney with one hand and the scarecrow with the other. "come back at once, i command you!" it was now that the wisdom of the scarecrow, in bringing the head of the thing to life instead of the legs, was proved beyond a doubt. for the gump, already high in the air, turned its head at tip's command and gradually circled around until it could view the roof of the palace. "come back!" shouted the boy, again. and the gump obeyed, slowly and gracefully waving its four wings in the air until the thing had settled once more upon the roof and become still. [illustration: "come back!"] [illustration: in the jackdaws' nest ] "this," said the gump, in a squeaky voice not at all proportioned to the size of its great body, "is the most novel experience i ever heard of. the last thing i remember distinctly is walking through the forest and hearing a loud noise. something probably killed me then, and it certainly ought to have been the end of me. yet here i am, alive again, with four monstrous wings and a body which i venture to say would make any respectable animal or fowl weep with shame to own. what does it all mean? am i a gump, or am i a juggernaut?" the creature, as it spoke, wiggled its chin whiskers in a very comical manner. "you're just a thing," answered tip, "with a gump's head on it. and we have made you and brought you to life so that you may carry us through the air wherever we wish to go." "very good!" said the thing. "as i am not a gump, i cannot have a gump's pride or independent spirit. so i may as well become your servant as anything else. my only satisfaction is that i do not seem to have a very strong constitution, and am not likely to live long in a state of slavery." "don't say that, i beg of you!" cried the tin woodman, whose excellent heart was strongly affected by this sad speech. "are you not feeling well today?" "oh, as for that," returned the gump, "it is my first day of existence; so i cannot judge whether i am feeling well or ill." and it waved its broom tail to and fro in a pensive manner. "come, come!" said the scarecrow, kindly; "do try to be more cheerful and take life as you find it. we shall be kind masters, and will strive to render your existence as pleasant as possible. are you willing to carry us through the air wherever we wish to go?" "certainly," answered the gump. "i greatly prefer to navigate the air. for should i travel on the earth and meet with one of my own species, my embarrassment would be something awful!" "i can appreciate that," said the tin woodman, sympathetically. "and yet," continued the thing, "when i carefully look you over, my masters, none of you seems to be constructed much more artistically than i am." "appearances are deceitful," said the woggle-bug, earnestly. "i am both highly magnified and thoroughly educated." "indeed!" murmured the gump, indifferently. "and my brains are considered remarkably rare specimens," added the scarecrow, proudly. "how strange!" remarked the gump. "although i am of tin," said the woodman, "i own a heart altogether the warmest and most admirable in the whole world." "i'm delighted to hear it," replied the gump, with a slight cough. "my smile," said jack pumpkinhead, "is worthy your best attention. it is always the same." "_semper idem_," explained the woggle-bug, pompously; and the gump turned to stare at him. "and i," declared the saw-horse, filling in an awkward pause, "am only remarkable because i can't help it." "i am proud, indeed, to meet with such exceptional masters," said the gump, in a careless tone. "if i could but secure so complete an introduction to myself, i would be more than satisfied." "that will come in time," remarked the scarecrow. "to 'know thyself' is considered quite an accomplishment, which it has taken us, who are your elders, months to perfect. but now," he added, turning to the others, "let us get aboard and start upon our journey." "where shall we go?" asked tip, as he clambered to a seat on the sofas and assisted the pumpkinhead to follow him. "in the south country rules a very delightful queen called glinda the good, who i am sure will gladly receive us," said the scarecrow, getting into the thing clumsily. "let us go to her and ask her advice." "that is cleverly thought of," declared nick chopper, giving the woggle-bug a boost and then toppling the saw-horse into the rear end of the cushioned seats. "i know glinda the good, and believe she will prove a friend indeed." "are we all ready?" asked the boy. "yes," announced the tin woodman, seating himself beside the scarecrow. "then," said tip, addressing the gump, "be kind enough to fly with us to the southward; and do not go higher than to escape the houses and trees, for it makes me dizzy to be up so far." "all right," answered the gump, briefly. it flopped its four huge wings and rose slowly into the air; and then, while our little band of adventurers clung to the backs and sides of the sofas for support, the gump turned toward the south and soared swiftly and majestically away. "the scenic effect, from this altitude, is marvelous," commented the educated woggle-bug, as they rode along. "never mind the scenery," said the scarecrow. "hold on tight, or you may get a tumble. the thing seems to rock badly." "it will be dark soon," said tip, observing that the sun was low on the horizon. "perhaps we should have waited until morning. i wonder if the gump can fly in the night." "i've been wondering that myself," returned the gump, quietly. "you see, this is a new experience to me. i used to have legs that carried me swiftly over the ground. but now my legs feel as if they were asleep." "they are," said tip. "we didn't bring 'em to life." "you're expected to fly," explained the scarecrow; "not to walk." "we can walk ourselves," said the woggle-bug. "i begin to understand what is required of me," remarked the gump; "so i will do my best to please you," and he flew on for a time in silence. presently jack pumpkinhead became uneasy. "i wonder if riding through the air is liable to spoil pumpkins," he said. "not unless you carelessly drop your head over the side," answered the woggle-bug. "in that event your head would no longer be a pumpkin, for it would become a squash." "have i not asked you to restrain these unfeeling jokes?" demanded tip, looking at the woggle-bug with a severe expression. "you have; and i've restrained a good many of them," replied the insect. "but there are opportunities for so many excellent puns in our language that, to an educated person like myself, the temptation to express them is almost irresistible." "people with more or less education discovered those puns centuries ago," said tip. "are you sure?" asked the woggle-bug, with a startled look. "of course i am," answered the boy. "an educated woggle-bug may be a new thing; but a woggle-bug education is as old as the hills, judging from the display you make of it." the insect seemed much impressed by this remark, and for a time maintained a meek silence. the scarecrow, in shifting his seat, saw upon the cushions the pepper-box which tip had cast aside, and began to examine it. "throw it overboard," said the boy; "it's quite empty now, and there's no use keeping it." "is it really empty?" asked the scarecrow, looking curiously into the box. "of course it is," answered tip. "i shook out every grain of the powder." "then the box has two bottoms," announced the scarecrow; "for the bottom on the inside is fully an inch away from the bottom on the outside." "let me see," said the tin woodman, taking the box from his friend. "yes," he declared, after looking it over, "the thing certainly has a false bottom. now, i wonder what that is for?" "can't you get it apart, and find out?" enquired tip, now quite interested in the mystery. "why, yes; the lower bottom unscrews," said the tin woodman. "my fingers are rather stiff; please see if you can open it." he handed the pepper-box to tip, who had no difficulty in unscrewing the bottom. and in the cavity below were three silver pills, with a carefully folded paper lying underneath them. this paper the boy proceeded to unfold, taking care not to spill the pills, and found several lines clearly written in red ink. "read it aloud," said the scarecrow; so tip read as follows: "dr. nikidik's celebrated wishing pills. "_directions for use_: swallow one pill; count seventeen by twos; then make a wish.--the wish will immediately be granted. "caution: keep in a dry and dark place." "why, this is a very valuable discovery!" cried the scarecrow. "it is, indeed," replied tip, gravely. "these pills may be of great use to us. i wonder if old mombi knew they were in the bottom of the pepper-box. i remember hearing her say that she got the powder of life from this same nikidik." "he must be a powerful sorcerer!" exclaimed the tin woodman; "and since the powder proved a success we ought to have confidence in the pills." "but how," asked the scarecrow, "can anyone count seventeen by twos? seventeen is an odd number. "that is true," replied tip, greatly disappointed. "no one can possibly count seventeen by twos." "then the pills are of no use to us," wailed the pumpkinhead; "and this fact overwhelms me with grief. for i had intended wishing that my head would never spoil." "nonsense!" said the scarecrow, sharply. "if we could use the pills at all we would make far better wishes than that." "i do not see how anything could be better," protested poor jack. "if you were liable to spoil at any time you could understand my anxiety." "for my part," said the tin woodman, "i sympathize with you in every respect. but since we cannot count seventeen by twos, sympathy is all you are liable to get." by this time it had become quite dark, and the voyagers found above them a cloudy sky, through which the rays of the moon could not penetrate. the gump flew steadily on, and for some reason the huge sofa-body rocked more and more dizzily every hour. the woggle-bug declared he was sea-sick; and tip was also pale and somewhat distressed. but the others clung to the backs of the sofas and did not seem to mind the motion as long as they were not tipped out. darker and darker grew the night, and on and on sped the gump through the black heavens. the travelers could not even see one another, and an oppressive silence settled down upon them. after a long time tip, who had been thinking deeply, spoke. "how are we to know when we come to the palace of glinda the good?" he asked. "it's a long way to glinda's palace," answered the woodman; "i've traveled it." "but how are we to know how fast the gump is flying?" persisted the boy. "we cannot see a single thing down on the earth, and before morning we may be far beyond the place we want to reach." "that is all true enough," the scarecrow replied, a little uneasily. "but i do not see how we can stop just now; for we might alight in a river, or on the top of a steeple; and that would be a great disaster." so they permitted the gump to fly on, with regular flops of its great wings, and waited patiently for morning. then tip's fears were proven to be well founded; for with the first streaks of gray dawn they looked over the sides of the sofas and discovered rolling plains dotted with queer villages, where the houses, instead of being dome-shaped--as they all are in the land of oz--had slanting roofs that rose to a peak in the center. odd looking animals were also moving about upon the open plains, and the country was unfamiliar to both the tin woodman and the scarecrow, who had formerly visited glinda the good's domain and knew it well. "we are lost!" said the scarecrow, dolefully. "the gump must have carried us entirely out of the land of oz and over the sandy deserts and into the terrible outside world that dorothy told us about." "we must get back," exclaimed the tin woodman, earnestly; "we must get back as soon as possible!" "turn around!" cried tip to the gump; "turn as quickly as you can!" "if i do i shall upset," answered the gump. "i'm not at all used to flying, and the best plan would be for me to alight in some place, and then i can turn around and take a fresh start." just then, however, there seemed to be no stopping-place that would answer their purpose. they flew over a village so big that the woggle-bug declared it was a city; and then they came to a range of high mountains with many deep gorges and steep cliffs showing plainly. "now is our chance to stop," said the boy, finding they were very close to the mountain tops. then he turned to the gump and commanded: "stop at the first level place you see!" "very well," answered the gump, and settled down upon a table of rock that stood between two cliffs. but not being experienced in such matters, the gump did not judge his speed correctly; and instead of coming to a stop upon the flat rock he missed it by half the width of his body, breaking off both his right wings against the sharp edge of the rock and then tumbling over and over down the cliff. our friends held on to the sofas as long as they could, but when the gump caught on a projecting rock the thing stopped suddenly--bottom side up--and all were immediately dumped out. by good fortune they fell only a few feet; for underneath them was a monster nest, built by a colony of jackdaws in a hollow ledge of rock; so none of them--not even the pumpkinhead--was injured by the fall. for jack found his precious head resting on the soft breast of the scarecrow, which made an excellent cushion; and tip fell on a mass of leaves and papers, which saved him from injury. the woggle-bug had bumped his round head against the saw-horse, but without causing him more than a moment's inconvenience. [illustration: all were immediately dumped out.] the tin woodman was at first much alarmed; but finding he had escaped without even a scratch upon his beautiful nickel-plate he at once regained his accustomed cheerfulness and turned to address his comrades. "our journey has ended rather suddenly," said he, "and we cannot justly blame our friend the gump for our accident, because he did the best he could under the circumstances. but how we are ever to escape from this nest i must leave to someone with better brains than i possess." here he gazed at the scarecrow; who crawled to the edge of the nest and looked over. below them was a sheer precipice several hundred feet in depth. above them was a smooth cliff unbroken save by the point of rock where the wrecked body of the gump still hung suspended from the end of one of the sofas. there really seemed to be no means of escape, and as they realized their helpless plight the little band of adventurers gave way to their bewilderment. "this is a worse prison than the palace," sadly remarked the woggle-bug. "i wish we had stayed there," moaned jack. "i'm afraid the mountain air isn't good for pumpkins." "it won't be when the jackdaws come back," growled the saw-horse, which lay waving its legs in a vain endeavor to get upon its feet again. "jackdaws are especially fond of pumpkins." "do you think the birds will come here?" asked jack, much distressed. "of course they will," said tip; "for this is their nest. and there must be hundreds of them," he continued, "for see what a lot of things they have brought here!" indeed, the nest was half filled with a most curious collection of small articles for which the birds could have no use, but which the thieving jackdaws had stolen during many years from the homes of men. and as the nest was safely hidden where no human being could reach it, this lost property would never be recovered. the woggle-bug, searching among the rubbish--for the jackdaws stole useless things as well as valuable ones--turned up with his foot a beautiful diamond necklace. this was so greatly admired by the tin woodman that the woggle-bug presented it to him with a graceful speech, after which the woodman hung it around his neck with much pride, rejoicing exceedingly when the big diamonds glittered in the sun's rays. [illustration: turned up a beautiful diamond necklace.] but now they heard a great jabbering and flopping of wings, and as the sound grew nearer to them tip exclaimed: "the jackdaws are coming! and if they find us here they will surely kill us in their anger." "i was afraid of this!" moaned the pumpkinhead. "my time has come!" "and mine, also!" said the woggle-bug; "for jackdaws are the greatest enemies of my race." the others were not at all afraid; but the scarecrow at once decided to save those of the party who were liable to be injured by the angry birds. so he commanded tip to take off jack's head and lie down with it in the bottom of the nest, and when this was done he ordered the woggle-bug to lie beside tip. nick chopper, who knew from past experience just what to do, then took the scarecrow to pieces--(all except his head)--and scattered the straw over tip and the woggle-bug, completely covering their bodies. hardly had this been accomplished when the flock of jackdaws reached them. perceiving the intruders in their nest the birds flew down upon them with screams of rage. [illustration] [illustration: dr. nikidik's famous wishing pills ] the tin woodman was usually a peaceful man, but when occasion required he could fight as fiercely as a roman gladiator. so, when the jackdaws nearly knocked him down in their rush of wings, and their sharp beaks and claws threatened to damage his brilliant plating, the woodman picked up his axe and made it whirl swiftly around his head. but although many were beaten off in this way, the birds were so numerous and so brave that they continued the attack as furiously as before. some of them pecked at the eyes of the gump, which hung over the nest in a helpless condition; but the gump's eyes were of glass and could not be injured. others of the jackdaws rushed at the saw-horse; but that animal, being still upon his back, kicked out so viciously with his wooden legs that he beat off as many assailants as did the woodman's axe. finding themselves thus opposed, the birds fell upon the scarecrow's straw, which lay at the center of the nest, covering tip and the woggle-bug and jack's pumpkin head, and began tearing it away and flying off with it, only to let it drop, straw by straw into the great gulf beneath. the scarecrow's head, noting with dismay this wanton destruction of his interior, cried to the tin woodman to save him; and that good friend responded with renewed energy. his axe fairly flashed among the jackdaws, and fortunately the gump began wildly waving the two wings remaining on the left side of its body. the flutter of these great wings filled the jackdaws with terror, and when the gump by its exertions freed itself from the peg of rock on which it hung, and sank flopping into the nest, the alarm of the birds knew no bounds and they fled screaming over the mountains. when the last foe had disappeared, tip crawled from under the sofas and assisted the woggle-bug to follow him. "we are saved!" shouted the boy, delightedly. "we are, indeed!" responded the educated insect, fairly hugging the stiff head of the gump in his joy; "and we owe it all to the flopping of the thing and the good axe of the woodman!" "if i am saved, get me out of here!" called jack, whose head was still beneath the sofas; and tip managed to roll the pumpkin out and place it upon its neck again. he also set the saw-horse upright, and said to it: "we owe you many thanks for the gallant fight you made." "i really think we have escaped very nicely," remarked the tin woodman, in a tone of pride. "not so!" exclaimed a hollow voice. at this they all turned in surprise to look at the scarecrow's head, which lay at the back of the nest. [illustration] "i am completely ruined!" declared the scarecrow, as he noted their astonishment. "for where is the straw that stuffs my body?" the awful question startled them all. they gazed around the nest with horror, for not a vestige of straw remained. the jackdaws had stolen it to the last wisp and flung it all into the chasm that yawned for hundreds of feet beneath the nest. "my poor, poor friend!" said the tin woodman, taking up the scarecrow's head and caressing it tenderly; "whoever could imagine you would come to this untimely end?" "i did it to save my friends," returned the head; "and i am glad that i perished in so noble and unselfish a manner." "but why are you all so despondent?" inquired the woggle-bug. "the scarecrow's clothing is still safe." "yes," answered the tin woodman; "but our friend's clothes are useless without stuffing." "why not stuff him with money?" asked tip. "money!" they all cried, in an amazed chorus. "to be sure," said the boy. "in the bottom of the nest are thousands of dollar bills--and two-dollar bills--and five-dollar bills--and tens, and twenties, and fifties. there are enough of them to stuff a dozen scarecrows. why not use the money?" the tin woodman began to turn over the rubbish with the handle of his axe; and, sure enough, what they had first thought only worthless papers were found to be all bills of various denominations, which the mischievous jackdaws had for years been engaged in stealing from the villages and cities they visited. [illustration] there was an immense fortune lying in that inaccessible nest; and tip's suggestion was, with the scarecrow's consent, quickly acted upon. they selected all the newest and cleanest bills and assorted them into various piles. the scarecrow's left leg boot were stuffed with five-dollar bills; his right leg was stuffed with ten-dollar bills, and his body so closely filled with fifties, one-hundreds and one-thousands that he could scarcely button his jacket with comfort. "you are now," said the woggle-bug, impressively, when the task had been completed, "the most valuable member of our party; and as you are among faithful friends there is little danger of your being spent." "thank you," returned the scarecrow, gratefully. "i feel like a new man; and although at first glance i might be mistaken for a safety deposit vault, i beg you to remember that my brains are still composed of the same old material. and these are the possessions that have always made me a person to be depended upon in an emergency." "well, the emergency is here," observed tip; "and unless your brains help us out of it we shall be compelled to pass the remainder of our lives in this nest." "how about these wishing pills?" enquired the scarecrow, taking the box from his jacket pocket. "can't we use them to escape?" "not unless we can count seventeen by twos," answered the tin woodman. "but our friend the woggle-bug claims to be highly educated, so he ought easily to figure out how that can be done." "it isn't a question of education," returned the insect; "it's merely a question of mathematics. i've seen the professor work lots of sums on the black-board, and he claimed anything could be done with x's and y's and a's, and such things, by mixing them up with plenty of plusses and minuses and equals, and so forth. but he never said anything, so far as i can remember, about counting up to the odd number of seventeen by the even numbers of twos." "stop! stop!" cried the pumpkinhead. "you're making my head ache." "and mine," added the scarecrow. "your mathematics seem to me very like a bottle of mixed pickles--the more you fish for what you want the less chance you have of getting it. i am certain that if the thing can be accomplished at all, it is in a very simple manner." "yes," said tip; "old mombi couldn't use x's and minuses, for she never went to school." "why not start counting at a half of one?" asked the saw-horse, abruptly. "then anyone can count up to seventeen by twos very easily." they looked at each other in surprise, for the saw-horse was considered the most stupid of the entire party. "you make me quite ashamed of myself," said the scarecrow, bowing low to the saw-horse. "nevertheless, the creature is right," declared the woggle-bug; "for twice one-half is one, and if you get to one it is easy to count from one up to seventeen by twos." "i wonder i didn't think of that myself," said the pumpkinhead. "i don't," returned the scarecrow. "you're no wiser than the rest of us, are you? but let us make a wish at once. who will swallow the first pill?" "suppose you do it," suggested tip. "i can't," said the scarecrow. "why not? you've a mouth, haven't you?" asked the boy. "yes; but my mouth is painted on, and there's no swallow connected with it," answered the scarecrow. "in fact," he continued, looking from one to another critically, "i believe the boy and the woggle-bug are the only ones in our party that are able to swallow." observing the truth of this remark, tip said: "then i will undertake to make the first wish. give me one of the silver pills." this the scarecrow tried to do; but his padded gloves were too clumsy to clutch so small an object, and he held the box toward the boy while tip selected one of the pills and swallowed it. "count!" cried the scarecrow. "one-half, one, three, five, seven, nine, eleven, thirteen, fifteen, seventeen!" counted tip. "now wish!" said the tin woodman anxiously. but just then the boy began to suffer such fearful pains that he became alarmed. "the pill has poisoned me!" he gasped; "o--h! o-o-o-o-o! ouch! murder! fire! o-o-h!" and here he rolled upon the bottom of the nest in such contortions that he frightened them all. "what can we do for you? speak, i beg!" entreated the tin woodman, tears of sympathy running down his nickel cheeks. "i--i don't know!" answered tip. "o--h! i wish i'd never swallowed that pill!" then at once the pain stopped, and the boy rose to his feet again and found the scarecrow looking with amazement at the end of the pepper-box. "what's happened?" asked the boy, a little ashamed of his recent exhibition. "why, the three pills are in the box again!" said the scarecrow. [illustration] "of course they are," the woggle-bug declared. "didn't tip wish that he'd never swallowed one of them? well, the wish came true, and he _didn't_ swallow one of them. so of course they are all three in the box." "that may be; but the pill gave me a dreadful pain, just the same," said the boy. "impossible!" declared the woggle-bug. "if you have never swallowed it, the pill can not have given you a pain. and as your wish, being granted, proves you did not swallow the pill, it is also plain that you suffered no pain." "then it was a splendid imitation of a pain," retorted tip, angrily. "suppose you try the next pill yourself. we've wasted one wish already." "oh, no, we haven't!" protested the scarecrow. "here are still three pills in the box, and each pill is good for a wish." "now you're making _my_ head ache," said tip. "i can't understand the thing at all. but i won't take another pill, i promise you!" and with this remark he retired sulkily to the back of the nest. "well," said the woggle-bug, "it remains for me to save us in my most highly magnified and thoroughly educated manner; for i seem to be the only one able and willing to make a wish. let me have one of the pills." he swallowed it without hesitation, and they all stood admiring his courage while the insect counted seventeen by twos in the same way that tip had done. and for some reason--perhaps because woggle-bugs have stronger stomachs than boys--the silver pellet caused it no pain whatever. "i wish the gump's broken wings mended, and as good as new!" said the woggle-bug, in a slow, impressive voice. all turned to look at the thing, and so quickly had the wish been granted that the gump lay before them in perfect repair, and as well able to fly through the air as when it had first been brought to life on the roof of the palace. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the scarecrow appeals to glinda the good ] "hooray!" shouted the scarecrow, gaily. "we can now leave this miserable jackdaws' nest whenever we please." "but it is nearly dark," said the tin woodman; "and unless we wait until morning to make our flight we may get into more trouble. i don't like these night trips, for one never knows what will happen." so it was decided to wait until daylight, and the adventurers amused themselves in the twilight by searching the jackdaws' nest for treasures. the woggle-bug found two handsome bracelets of wrought gold, which fitted his slender arms very well. the scarecrow took a fancy for rings, of which there were many in the nest. before long he had fitted a ring to each finger of his padded gloves, and not being content with that display he added one more to each thumb. as he carefully chose those rings set with sparkling stones, such as rubies, amethysts and sapphires, the scarecrow's hands now presented a most brilliant appearance. "this nest would be a picnic for queen jinjur," said he, musingly; "for as nearly as i can make out she and her girls conquered me merely to rob my city of its emeralds." the tin woodman was content with his diamond necklace and refused to accept any additional decorations; but tip secured a fine gold watch, which was attached to a heavy fob, and placed it in his pocket with much pride. he also pinned several jeweled brooches to jack pumpkinhead's red waistcoat, and attached a lorgnette, by means of a fine chain, to the neck of the saw-horse. "it's very pretty," said the creature, regarding the lorgnette approvingly; "but what is it for?" none of them could answer that question, however; so the saw-horse decided it was some rare decoration and became very fond of it. that none of the party might be slighted, they ended by placing several large seal rings upon the points of the gump's antlers, although that odd personage seemed by no means gratified by the attention. darkness soon fell upon them, and tip and the woggle-bug went to sleep while the others sat down to wait patiently for the day. next morning they had cause to congratulate themselves upon the useful condition of the gump; for with daylight a great flock of jackdaws approached to engage in one more battle for the possession of the nest. but our adventurers did not wait for the assault. they tumbled into the cushioned seats of the sofas as quickly as possible, and tip gave the word to the gump to start. at once it rose into the air, the great wings flopping strongly and with regular motions, and in a few moments they were so far from the nest that the chattering jackdaws took possession without any attempt at pursuit. the thing flew due north, going in the same direction from whence it had come. at least, that was the scarecrow's opinion, and the others agreed that the scarecrow was the best judge of direction. after passing over several cities and villages the gump carried them high above a broad plain where houses became more and more scattered until they disappeared altogether. next came the wide, sandy desert separating the rest of the world from the land of oz, and before noon they saw the dome-shaped houses that proved they were once more within the borders of their native land. "but the houses and fences are blue," said the tin woodman, "and that indicates we are in the land of the munchkins, and therefore a long distance from glinda the good." "what shall we do?" asked the boy, turning to their guide. "i don't know," replied the scarecrow, frankly. "if we were at the emerald city we could then move directly southward, and so reach our destination. but we dare not go to the emerald city, and the gump is probably carrying us further in the wrong direction with every flop of its wings." "then the woggle-bug must swallow another pill," said tip, decidedly, "and wish us headed in the right direction." "very well," returned the highly magnified one; "i'm willing." but when the scarecrow searched in his pocket for the pepper-box containing the two silver wishing pills, it was not to be found. filled with anxiety, the voyagers hunted throughout every inch of the thing for the precious box; but it had disappeared entirely. and still the gump flew onward, carrying them they knew not where. "i must have left the pepper-box in the jackdaws' nest," said the scarecrow, at length. "it is a great misfortune," the tin woodman declared. "but we are no worse off than before we discovered the wishing pills." "we are better off," replied tip; "for the one pill we used has enabled us to escape from that horrible nest." "yet the loss of the other two is serious, and i deserve a good scolding for my carelessness," the scarecrow rejoined, penitently. "for in such an unusual party as this accidents are liable to happen any moment, and even now we may be approaching a new danger." no one dared contradict this, and a dismal silence ensued. the gump flew steadily on. suddenly tip uttered an exclamation of surprise. "we must have reached the south country," he cried, "for below us everything is red!" [illustration] immediately they all leaned over the backs of the sofas to look--all except jack, who was too careful of his pumpkin head to risk its slipping off his neck. sure enough; the red houses and fences and trees indicated they were within the domain of glinda the good; and presently, as they glided rapidly on, the tin woodman recognized the roads and buildings they passed, and altered slightly the flight of the gump so that they might reach the palace of the celebrated sorceress. "good!" cried the scarecrow, delightedly. "we do not need the lost wishing pills now, for we have arrived at our destination." gradually the thing sank lower and nearer to the ground until at length it came to rest within the beautiful gardens of glinda, settling upon a velvety green lawn close by a fountain which sent sprays of flashing gems, instead of water, high into the air, whence they fell with a soft, tinkling sound into the carved marble basin placed to receive them. everything was very gorgeous in glinda's gardens, and while our voyagers gazed about with admiring eyes a company of soldiers silently appeared and surrounded them. but these soldiers of the great sorceress were entirely different from those of jinjur's army of revolt, although they were likewise girls. for glinda's soldiers wore neat uniforms and bore swords and spears; and they marched with a skill and precision that proved them well trained in the arts of war. the captain commanding this troop--which was glinda's private body guard--recognized the scarecrow and the tin woodman at once, and greeted them with respectful salutations. "good day!" said the scarecrow, gallantly removing his hat, while the woodman gave a soldierly salute; "we have come to request an audience with your fair ruler." "glinda is now within her palace, awaiting you," returned the captain; "for she saw you coming long before you arrived." "that is strange!" said tip, wondering. "not at all," answered the scarecrow; "for glinda the good is a mighty sorceress, and nothing that goes on in the land of oz escapes her notice. i suppose she knows why we came as well as we do ourselves." "then what was the use of our coming?" asked jack, stupidly. [illustration] "to prove you are a pumpkinhead!" retorted the scarecrow. "but, if the sorceress expects us, we must not keep her waiting." so they all clambered out of the sofas and followed the captain toward the palace--even the saw-horse taking his place in the queer procession. upon her throne of finely wrought gold sat glinda, and she could scarcely repress a smile as her peculiar visitors entered and bowed before her. both the scarecrow and the tin woodman she knew and liked; but the awkward pumpkinhead and highly magnified woggle-bug were creatures she had never seen before, and they seemed even more curious than the others. as for the saw-horse, he looked to be nothing more than an animated chunk of wood; and he bowed so stiffly that his head bumped against the floor, causing a ripple of laughter among the soldiers, in which glinda frankly joined. "i beg to announce to your glorious highness," began the scarecrow, in a solemn voice, "that my emerald city has been overrun by a crowd of impudent girls with knitting-needles, who have enslaved all the men, robbed the streets and public buildings of all their emerald jewels, and usurped my throne." "i know it," said glinda. "they also threatened to destroy me, as well as all the good friends and allies you see before you," continued the scarecrow; "and had we not managed to escape their clutches our days would long since have ended." "i know it," repeated glinda. "therefore i have come to beg your assistance," resumed the scarecrow, "for i believe you are always glad to succor the unfortunate and oppressed." "that is true," replied the sorceress, slowly. "but the emerald city is now ruled by general jinjur, who has caused herself to be proclaimed queen. what right have i to oppose her?" "why, she stole the throne from me," said the scarecrow. "and how came you to possess the throne?" asked glinda. "i got it from the wizard of oz, and by the choice of the people," returned the scarecrow, uneasy at such questioning. "and where did the wizard get it?" she continued, gravely. "i am told he took it from pastoria, the former king," said the scarecrow, becoming confused under the intent look of the sorceress. "then," declared glinda, "the throne of the emerald city belongs neither to you nor to jinjur, but to this pastoria from whom the wizard usurped it." "that is true," acknowledged the scarecrow, humbly; "but pastoria is now dead and gone, and some one must rule in his place." "pastoria had a daughter, who is the rightful heir to the throne of the emerald city. did you know that?" questioned the sorceress. "no," replied the scarecrow. "but if the girl still lives i will not stand in her way. it will satisfy me as well to have jinjur turned out, as an impostor, as to regain the throne myself. in fact, it isn't much fun to be king, especially if one has good brains. i have known for some time that i am fitted to occupy a far more exalted position. but where is this girl who owns the throne, and what is her name?" "her name is ozma," answered glinda. "but where she is i have tried in vain to discover. for the wizard of oz, when he stole the throne from ozma's father, hid the girl in some secret place; and by means of a magical trick with which i am not familiar he also managed to prevent her being discovered--even by so experienced a sorceress as myself." "that is strange," interrupted the woggle-bug, pompously. "i have been informed that the wonderful wizard of oz was nothing more than a humbug!" "nonsense!" exclaimed the scarecrow, much provoked by this speech. "didn't he give me a wonderful set of brains?" "there's no humbug about my heart," announced the tin woodman, glaring indignantly at the woggle-bug. "perhaps i was misinformed," stammered the insect, shrinking back; "i never knew the wizard personally." "well, we did," retorted the scarecrow, "and he was a very great wizard, i assure you. it is true he was guilty of some slight impostures, but unless he was a great wizard how--let me ask--could he have hidden this girl ozma so securely that no one can find her?" "i--i give it up!" replied the woggle-bug, meekly. "that is the most sensible speech you've made," said the tin woodman. "i must really make another effort to discover where this girl is hidden," resumed the sorceress, thoughtfully. "i have in my library a book in which is inscribed every action of the wizard while he was in our land of oz--or, at least, every action that could be observed by my spies. this book i will read carefully tonight, and try to single out the acts that may guide us in discovering the lost ozma. in the meantime, pray amuse yourselves in my palace and command my servants as if they were your own. i will grant you another audience tomorrow." with this gracious speech glinda dismissed the adventurers, and they wandered away through the beautiful gardens, where they passed several hours enjoying all the delightful things with which the queen of the southland had surrounded her royal palace. on the following morning they again appeared before glinda, who said to them: "i have searched carefully through the records of the wizard's actions, and among them i can find but three that appear to have been suspicious. he ate beans with a knife, made three secret visits to old mombi, and limped slightly on his left foot." "ah! that last is certainly suspicious!" exclaimed the pumpkinhead. "not necessarily," said the scarecrow; "he may have had corns. now, it seems to me his eating beans with a knife is more suspicious." "perhaps it is a polite custom in omaha, from which great country the wizard originally came," suggested the tin woodman. "it may be," admitted the scarecrow. "but why," asked glinda, "did he make three secret visits to old mombi?" "ah! why, indeed!" echoed the woggle-bug, impressively. "we know that the wizard taught the old woman many of his tricks of magic," continued glinda; "and this he would not have done had she not assisted him in some way. so we may suspect with good reason that mombi aided him to hide the girl ozma, who was the real heir to the throne of the emerald city, and a constant danger to the usurper. for, if the people knew that she lived, they would quickly make her their queen and restore her to her rightful position." "an able argument!" cried the scarecrow. "i have no doubt that mombi was mixed up in this wicked business. but how does that knowledge help us?" "we must find mombi," replied glinda, "and force her to tell where the girl is hidden." "mombi is now with queen jinjur, in the emerald city," said tip. "it was she who threw so many obstacles in our pathway, and made jinjur threaten to destroy my friends and give me back into the old witch's power." "then," decided glinda, "i will march with my army to the emerald city, and take mombi prisoner. after that we can, perhaps, force her to tell the truth about ozma." "she is a terrible old woman!" remarked tip, with a shudder at the thought of mombi's black kettle; "and obstinate, too." "i am quite obstinate myself," returned the sorceress, with a sweet smile; "so i do not fear mombi in the least. today i will make all necessary preparations, and we will march upon the emerald city at daybreak tomorrow." [illustration: "she is a terrible old woman."] [illustration: jinjur] [illustration: the tin-woodman plucks a rose ] [illustration] the army of glinda the good looked very grand and imposing when it assembled at daybreak before the palace gates. the uniforms of the girl soldiers were pretty and of gay colors, and their silver-tipped spears were bright and glistening, the long shafts being inlaid with mother-of-pearl. all the officers wore sharp, gleaming swords, and shields edged with peacock-feathers; and it really seemed that no foe could by any possibility defeat such a brilliant army. the sorceress rode in a beautiful palanquin which was like the body of a coach, having doors and windows with silken curtains; but instead of wheels, which a coach has, the palanquin rested upon two long, horizontal bars, which were borne upon the shoulders of twelve servants. the scarecrow and his comrades decided to ride in the gump, in order to keep up with the swift march of the army; so, as soon as glinda had started and her soldiers had marched away to the inspiring strains of music played by the royal band, our friends climbed into the sofas and followed. the gump flew along slowly at a point directly over the palanquin in which rode the sorceress. [illustration] "be careful," said the tin woodman to the scarecrow, who was leaning far over the side to look at the army below. "you might fall." "it wouldn't matter," remarked the educated woggle-bug; "he can't get broke so long as he is stuffed with money." "didn't i ask you--" began tip, in a reproachful voice. "you did!" said the woggle-bug, promptly. "and i beg your pardon. i will really try to restrain myself." "you'd better," declared the boy. "that is, if you wish to travel in our company." "ah! i couldn't bear to part with you now," murmured the insect, feelingly; so tip let the subject drop. the army moved steadily on, but night had fallen before they came to the walls of the emerald city. by the dim light of the new moon, however, glinda's forces silently surrounded the city and pitched their tents of scarlet silk upon the greensward. the tent of the sorceress was larger than the others, and was composed of pure white silk, with scarlet banners flying above it. a tent was also pitched for the scarecrow's party; and when these preparations had been made, with military precision and quickness, the army retired to rest. great was the amazement of queen jinjur next morning when her soldiers came running to inform her of the vast army surrounding them. she at once climbed to a high tower of the royal palace and saw banners waving in every direction and the great white tent of glinda standing directly before the gates. [illustration] "we are surely lost!" cried jinjur, in despair; "for how can our knitting-needles avail against the long spears and terrible swords of our foes?" "the best thing we can do," said one of the girls, "is to surrender as quickly as possible, before we get hurt." "not so," returned jinjur, more bravely. "the enemy is still outside the walls, so we must try to gain time by engaging them in parley. go you with a flag of truce to glinda and ask her why she has dared to invade my dominions, and what are her demands." so the girl passed through the gates, bearing a white flag to show she was on a mission of peace, and came to glinda's tent. "tell your queen," said the sorceress to the girl, "that she must deliver up to me old mombi, to be my prisoner. if this is done i will not molest her farther." now when this message was delivered to the queen it filled her with dismay, for mombi was her chief counsellor, and jinjur was terribly afraid of the old hag. but she sent for mombi, and told her what glinda had said. "i see trouble ahead for all of us," muttered the old witch, after glancing into a magic mirror she carried in her pocket. "but we may even yet escape by deceiving this sorceress, clever as she thinks herself." "don't you think it will be safer for me to deliver you into her hands?" asked jinjur, nervously. "if you do, it will cost you the throne of the emerald city!" answered the witch, positively. "but, if you will let me have my own way, i can save us both very easily." "then do as you please," replied jinjur, "for it is so aristocratic to be a queen that i do not wish to be obliged to return home again, to make beds and wash dishes for my mother." so mombi called jellia jamb to her, and performed a certain magical rite with which she was familiar. as a result of the enchantment jellia took on the form and features of mombi, while the old witch grew to resemble the girl so closely that it seemed impossible anyone could guess the deception. "now," said old mombi to the queen, "let your soldiers deliver up this girl to glinda. she will think she has the real mombi in her power, and so will return immediately to her own country in the south." [illustration] therefore jellia, hobbling along like an aged woman, was led from the city gates and taken before glinda. "here is the person you demanded," said one of the guards, "and our queen now begs you will go away, as you promised, and leave us in peace." "that i will surely do," replied glinda, much pleased; "if this is really the person she seems to be." "it is certainly old mombi," said the guard, who believed she was speaking the truth; and then jinjur's soldiers returned within the city's gates. the sorceress quickly summoned the scarecrow and his friends to her tent, and began to question the supposed mombi about the lost girl ozma. but jellia knew nothing at all of this affair, and presently she grew so nervous under the questioning that she gave way and began to weep, to glinda's great astonishment. "here is some foolish trickery!" said the sorceress, her eyes flashing with anger. "this is not mombi at all, but some other person who has been made to resemble her! tell me," she demanded, turning to the trembling girl, "what is your name?" this jellia dared not tell, having been threatened with death by the witch if she confessed the fraud. but glinda, sweet and fair though she was, understood magic better than any other person in the land of oz. so, by uttering a few potent words and making a peculiar gesture, she quickly transformed the girl into her proper shape, while at the same time old mombi, far away in jinjur's palace, suddenly resumed her own crooked form and evil features. "why, it's jellia jamb!" cried the scarecrow, recognizing in the girl one of his old friends. "it's our interpreter!" said the pumpkinhead, smiling pleasantly. then jellia was forced to tell of the trick mombi had played, and she also begged glinda's protection, which the sorceress readily granted. but glinda was now really angry, and sent word to jinjur that the fraud was discovered and she must deliver up the real mombi or suffer terrible consequences. jinjur was prepared for this message, for the witch well understood, when her natural form was thrust upon her, that glinda had discovered her trickery. but the wicked old creature had already thought up a new deception, and had made jinjur promise to carry it out. so the queen said to glinda's messenger: [illustration] "tell your mistress that i cannot find mombi anywhere; but that glinda is welcome to enter the city and search herself for the old woman. she may also bring her friends with her, if she likes; but if she does not find mombi by sundown, the sorceress must promise to go away peaceably and bother us no more." glinda agreed to these terms, well knowing that mombi was somewhere within the city walls. so jinjur caused the gates to be thrown open, and glinda marched in at the head of a company of soldiers, followed by the scarecrow and the tin woodman, while jack pumpkinhead rode astride the saw-horse, and the educated, highly magnified woggle-bug sauntered behind in a dignified manner. tip walked by the side of the sorceress, for glinda had conceived a great liking for the boy. of course old mombi had no intention of being found by glinda; so, while her enemies were marching up the street, the witch transformed herself into a red rose growing upon a bush in the garden of the palace. it was a clever idea, and a trick glinda did not suspect; so several precious hours were spent in a vain search for mombi. as sundown approached the sorceress realized she had been defeated by the superior cunning of the aged witch; so she gave the command to her people to march out of the city and back to their tents. the scarecrow and his comrades happened to be searching in the garden of the palace just then, and they turned with disappointment to obey glinda's command. but before they left the garden the tin woodman, who was fond of flowers, chanced to espy a big red rose growing upon a bush; so he plucked the flower and fastened it securely in the tin button-hole of his tin bosom. as he did this he fancied he heard a low moan proceed from the rose; but he paid no attention to the sound, and mombi was thus carried out of the city and into glinda's camp without anyone having a suspicion that they had succeeded in their quest. [illustration] [illustration: the transformation of old mombi ] the witch was at first frightened at finding herself captured by the enemy; but soon she decided that she was exactly as safe in the tin woodman's button-hole as growing upon the bush. for no one knew the rose and mombi to be one, and now that she was without the gates of the city her chances of escaping altogether from glinda were much improved. "but there is no hurry," thought mombi. "i will wait awhile and enjoy the humiliation of this sorceress when she finds i have outwitted her." so throughout the night the rose lay quietly on the woodman's bosom, and in the morning, when glinda summoned our friends to a consultation, nick chopper carried his pretty flower with him to the white silk tent. [illustration] "for some reason," said glinda, "we have failed to find this cunning old mombi; so i fear our expedition will prove a failure. and for that i am sorry, because without our assistance little ozma will never be rescued and restored to her rightful position as queen of the emerald city." "do not let us give up so easily," said the pumpkinhead. "let us do something else." "something else must really be done," replied glinda, with a smile; "yet i cannot understand how i have been defeated so easily by an old witch who knows far less of magic than i do myself." "while we are on the ground i believe it would be wise for us to conquer the emerald city for princess ozma, and find the girl afterward," said the scarecrow. "and while the girl remains hidden i will gladly rule in her place, for i understand the business of ruling much better than jinjur does." "but i have promised not to molest jinjur," objected glinda. "suppose you all return with me to my kingdom--or empire, rather," said the tin woodman, politely including the entire party in a royal wave of his arm. "it will give me great pleasure to entertain you in my castle, where there is room enough and to spare. and if any of you wish to be nickel-plated, my valet will do it free of all expense." while the woodman was speaking glinda's eyes had been noting the rose in his button-hole, and now she imagined she saw the big red leaves of the flower tremble slightly. this quickly aroused her suspicions, and in a moment more the sorceress had decided that the seeming rose was nothing else than a transformation of old mombi. at the same instant mombi knew she was discovered and must quickly plan an escape, and as transformations were easy to her she immediately took the form of a shadow and glided along the wall of the tent toward the entrance, thinking thus to disappear. but glinda had not only equal cunning, but far more experience than the witch. so the sorceress reached the opening of the tent before the shadow, and with a wave of her hand closed the entrance so securely that mombi could not find a crack big enough to creep through. the scarecrow and his friends were greatly surprised at glinda's actions; for none of them had noted the shadow. but the sorceress said to them: "remain perfectly quiet, all of you! for the old witch is even now with us in this tent, and i hope to capture her." these words so alarmed mombi that she quickly transformed herself from a shadow to a black ant, in which shape she crawled along the ground, seeking a crack or crevice in which to hide her tiny body. fortunately, the ground where the tent had been pitched, being just before the city gates, was hard and smooth; and while the ant still crawled about, glinda discovered it and ran quickly forward to effect its capture. but, just as her hand was descending, the witch, now fairly frantic with fear, made her last transformation, and in the form of a huge griffin sprang through the wall of the tent--tearing the silk asunder in her rush--and in a moment had darted away with the speed of a whirlwind. glinda did not hesitate to follow. she sprang upon the back of the saw-horse and cried: "now you shall prove that you have a right to be alive! run--run--run!" the saw-horse ran. like a flash he followed the griffin, his wooden legs moving so fast that they twinkled like the rays of a star. before our friends could recover from their surprise both the griffin and the saw-horse had dashed out of sight. "come! let us follow!" cried the scarecrow. they ran to the place where the gump was lying and quickly tumbled aboard. "fly!" commanded tip, eagerly. "where to?" asked the gump, in its calm voice. "i don't know," returned tip, who was very nervous at the delay; "but if you will mount into the air i think we can discover which way glinda has gone." [illustration] "very well," returned the gump, quietly; and it spread its great wings and mounted high into the air. far away, across the meadows, they could now see two tiny specks, speeding one after the other; and they knew these specks must be the griffin and the saw-horse. so tip called the gump's attention to them and bade the creature try to overtake the witch and the sorceress. but, swift as was the gump's flight, the pursued and pursuer moved more swiftly yet, and within a few moments were blotted out against the dim horizon. "let us continue to follow them, nevertheless," said the scarecrow; "for the land of oz is of small extent, and sooner or later they must both come to a halt." old mombi had thought herself very wise to choose the form of a griffin, for its legs were exceedingly fleet and its strength more enduring than that of other animals. but she had not reckoned on the untiring energy of the saw-horse, whose wooden limbs could run for days without slacking their speed. therefore, after an hour's hard running, the griffin's breath began to fail, and it panted and gasped painfully, and moved more slowly than before. then it reached the edge of the desert and began racing across the deep sands. but its tired feet sank far into the sand, and in a few minutes the griffin fell forward, completely exhausted, and lay still upon the desert waste. glinda came up a moment later, riding the still vigorous saw-horse; and having unwound a slender golden thread from her girdle the sorceress threw it over the head of the panting and helpless griffin, and so destroyed the magical power of mombi's transformation. for the animal, with one fierce shudder, disappeared from view, while in its place was discovered the form of the old witch, glaring savagely at the serene and beautiful face of the sorceress. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: princess ozma of oz ] "you are my prisoner, and it is useless for you to struggle any longer," said glinda, in her soft, sweet voice. "lie still a moment, and rest yourself, and then i will carry you back to my tent." "why do you seek me?" asked mombi, still scarce able to speak plainly for lack of breath. "what have i done to you, to be so persecuted?" "you have done nothing to me," answered the gentle sorceress; "but i suspect you have been guilty of several wicked actions; and if i find it is true that you have so abused your knowledge of magic, i intend to punish you severely." "i defy you!" croaked the old hag. "you dare not harm me!" just then the gump flew up to them and alighted upon the desert sands beside glinda. our friends were delighted to find that mombi had finally been captured, and after a hurried consultation it was decided they should all return to the camp in the gump. so the saw-horse was tossed aboard, and then glinda, still holding an end of the golden thread that was around mombi's neck, forced her prisoner to climb into the sofas. the others now followed, and tip gave the word to the gump to return. the journey was made in safety, mombi sitting in her place with a grim and sullen air; for the old hag was absolutely helpless so long as the magical thread encircled her throat. the army hailed glinda's return with loud cheers, and the party of friends soon gathered again in the royal tent, which had been neatly repaired during their absence. "now," said the sorceress to mombi, "i want you to tell us why the wonderful wizard of oz paid you three visits, and what became of the child, ozma, which so curiously disappeared." the witch looked at glinda defiantly, but said not a word. "answer me!" cried the sorceress. but still mombi remained silent. "perhaps she doesn't know," remarked jack. "i beg you will keep quiet," said tip. "you might spoil everything with your foolishness." "very well, dear father!" returned the pumpkinhead, meekly. "how glad i am to be a woggle-bug!" murmured the highly magnified insect, softly. "no one can expect wisdom to flow from a pumpkin." "well," said the scarecrow, "what shall we do to make mombi speak? unless she tells us what we wish to know her capture will do us no good at all." "suppose we try kindness," suggested the tin woodman. "i've heard that anyone can be conquered with kindness, no matter how ugly they may be." at this the witch turned to glare upon him so horribly that the tin woodman shrank back abashed. glinda had been carefully considering what to do, and now she turned to mombi and said: "you will gain nothing, i assure you, by thus defying us. for i am determined to learn the truth about the girl ozma, and unless you tell me all that you know, i will certainly put you to death." "oh, no! don't do that!" exclaimed the tin woodman. "it would be an awful thing to kill anyone--even old mombi!" "but it is merely a threat," returned glinda. "i shall not put mombi to death, because she will prefer to tell me the truth." "oh, i see!" said the tin man, much relieved. "suppose i tell you all that you wish to know," said mombi, speaking so suddenly that she startled them all. "what will you do with me then?" "in that case," replied glinda, "i shall merely ask you to drink a powerful draught which will cause you to forget all the magic you have ever learned." "then i would become a helpless old woman!" "but you would be alive," suggested the pumpkinhead, consolingly. "do try to keep silent!" said tip, nervously. "i'll try," responded jack; "but you will admit that it's a good thing to be alive." "especially if one happens to be thoroughly educated," added the woggle-bug, nodding approval. "you may make your choice," glinda said to old mombi, "between death if you remain silent, and the loss of your magical powers if you tell me the truth. but i think you will prefer to live." mombi cast an uneasy glance at the sorceress, and saw that she was in earnest, and not to be trifled with. so she replied, slowly: "i will answer your questions." "that is what i expected," said glinda, pleasantly. "you have chosen wisely, i assure you." she then motioned to one of her captains, who brought her a beautiful golden casket. from this the sorceress drew an immense white pearl, attached to a slender chain which she placed around her neck in such a way that the pearl rested upon her bosom, directly over her heart. "now," said she, "i will ask my first question: why did the wizard pay you three visits?" "because i would not come to him," answered mombi. "that is no answer," said glinda, sternly. "tell me the truth." "well," returned mombi, with downcast eyes, "he visited me to learn the way i make tea-biscuits." "look up!" commanded the sorceress. mombi obeyed. "what is the color of my pearl?" demanded glinda. "why--it is black!" replied the old witch, in a tone of wonder. "then you have told me a falsehood!" cried glinda, angrily. "only when the truth is spoken will my magic pearl remain a pure white in color." mombi now saw how useless it was to try to deceive the sorceress; so she said, meanwhile scowling at her defeat: "the wizard brought to me the girl ozma, who was then no more than a baby, and begged me to conceal the child." "that is what i thought," declared glinda, calmly. "what did he give you for thus serving him?" "he taught me all the magical tricks he knew. some were good tricks, and some were only frauds; but i have remained faithful to my promise." "what did you do with the girl?" asked glinda; and at this question everyone bent forward and listened eagerly for the reply. "i enchanted her," answered mombi. "in what way?" "i transformed her into--into--" "into what?" demanded glinda, as the witch hesitated. "_into a boy!_" said mombi, in a low tone. "a boy!" echoed every voice; and then, because they knew that this old woman had reared tip from childhood, all eyes were turned to where the boy stood. "yes," said the old witch, nodding her head; "that is the princess ozma--the child brought to me by the wizard who stole her father's throne. that is the rightful ruler of the emerald city!" and she pointed her long bony finger straight at the boy. "i!" cried tip, in amazement. "why, i'm no princess ozma--i'm not a girl!" glinda smiled, and going to tip she took his small brown hand within her dainty white one. [illustration: mombi pointed her long, bony finger at the boy.] "you are not a girl just now," said she, gently, "because mombi transformed you into a boy. but you were born a girl, and also a princess; so you must resume your proper form, that you may become queen of the emerald city." "oh, let jinjur be the queen!" exclaimed tip, ready to cry. "i want to stay a boy, and travel with the scarecrow and the tin woodman, and the woggle-bug, and jack--yes! and my friend the saw-horse--and the gump! i don't want to be a girl!" "never mind, old chap," said the tin woodman, soothingly; "it don't hurt to be a girl, i'm told; and we will all remain your faithful friends just the same. and, to be honest with you, i've always considered girls nicer than boys." "they're just as nice, anyway," added the scarecrow, patting tip affectionately upon the head. "and they are equally good students," proclaimed the woggle-bug. "i should like to become your tutor, when you are transformed into a girl again." "but--see here!" said jack pumpkinhead, with a gasp: "if you become a girl, you can't be my dear father any more!" "no," answered tip, laughing in spite of his anxiety; "and i shall not be sorry to escape the relationship." then he added, hesitatingly, as he turned to glinda: "i might try it for awhile,--just to see how it seems, you know. but if i don't like being a girl you must promise to change me into a boy again." [illustration] "really," said the sorceress, "that is beyond my magic. i never deal in transformations, for they are not honest, and no respectable sorceress likes to make things appear to be what they are not. only unscrupulous witches use the art, and therefore i must ask mombi to effect your release from her charm, and restore you to your proper form. it will be the last opportunity she will have to practice magic." now that the truth about princess ozma had been discovered, mombi did not care what became of tip; but she feared glinda's anger, and the boy generously promised to provide for mombi in her old age if he became the ruler of the emerald city. so the witch consented to effect the transformation, and preparations for the event were at once made. glinda ordered her own royal couch to be placed in the center of the tent. it was piled high with cushions covered with rose-colored silk, and from a golden railing above hung many folds of pink gossamer, completely concealing the interior of the couch. the first act of the witch was to make the boy drink a potion which quickly sent him into a deep and dreamless sleep. then the tin woodman and the woggle-bug bore him gently to the couch, placed him upon the soft cushions, and drew the gossamer hangings to shut him from all earthly view. the witch squatted upon the ground and kindled a tiny fire of dried herbs, which she drew from her bosom. when the blaze shot up and burned clearly old mombi scattered a handful of magical powder over the fire, which straightway gave off a rich violet vapor, filling all the tent with its fragrance and forcing the saw-horse to sneeze--although he had been warned to keep quiet. [illustration: mombi at her magical incantations.] then, while the others watched her curiously, the hag chanted a rhythmical verse in words which no one understood, and bent her lean body seven times back and forth over the fire. and now the incantation seemed complete, for the witch stood upright and cried the one word "yeowa!" in a loud voice. the vapor floated away; the atmosphere became clear again; a whiff of fresh air filled the tent, and the pink curtains of the couch trembled slightly, as if stirred from within. glinda walked to the canopy and parted the silken hangings. then she bent over the cushions, reached out her hand, and from the couch arose the form of a young girl, fresh and beautiful as a may morning. her eyes sparkled as two diamonds, and her lips were tinted like a tourmaline. all adown her back floated tresses of ruddy gold, with a slender jeweled circlet confining them at the brow. her robes of silken gauze floated around her like a cloud, and dainty satin slippers shod her feet. at this exquisite vision tip's old comrades stared in wonder for the space of a full minute, and then every head bent low in honest admiration of the lovely princess ozma. the girl herself cast one look into glinda's bright face, which glowed with pleasure and satisfaction, and then turned upon the others. speaking the words with sweet diffidence, she said: "i hope none of you will care less for me than you did before. i'm just the same tip, you know; only--only--" "only you're different!" said the pumpkinhead; and everyone thought it was the wisest speech he had ever made. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: the riches of content ] when the wonderful tidings reached the ears of queen jinjur--how mombi the witch had been captured; how she had confessed her crime to glinda; and how the long-lost princess ozma had been discovered in no less a personage than the boy tip--she wept real tears of grief and despair. "to think," she moaned, "that after having ruled as queen, and lived in a palace, i must go back to scrubbing floors and churning butter again! it is too horrible to think of! i will never consent!" so when her soldiers, who spent most of their time making fudge in the palace kitchens, counseled jinjur to resist, she listened to their foolish prattle and sent a sharp defiance to glinda the good and the princess ozma. the result was a declaration of war, and the very next day glinda marched upon the emerald city with pennants flying and bands playing, and a forest of shining spears sparkling brightly beneath the sun's rays. but when it came to the walls this brave assembly made a sudden halt; for jinjur had closed and barred every gateway, and the walls of the emerald city were builded high and thick with many blocks of green marble. finding her advance thus baffled, glinda bent her brows in deep thought, while the woggle-bug said, in his most positive tone: "we must lay siege to the city, and starve it into submission. it is the only thing we can do." "not so," answered the scarecrow. "we still have the gump, and the gump can still fly." the sorceress turned quickly at this speech, and her face now wore a bright smile. "you are right," she exclaimed, "and certainly have reason to be proud of your brains. let us go to the gump at once!" so they passed through the ranks of the army until they came to the place, near the scarecrow's tent, where the gump lay. glinda and princess ozma mounted first, and sat upon the sofas. then the scarecrow and his friends climbed aboard, and still there was room for a captain and three soldiers, which glinda considered sufficient for a guard. [illustration] now, at a word from the princess, the queer thing they had called the gump flopped its palm-leaf wings and rose into the air, carrying the party of adventurers high above the walls. they hovered over the palace, and soon perceived jinjur reclining in a hammock in the courtyard, where she was comfortably reading a novel with a green cover and eating green chocolates, confident that the walls would protect her from her enemies. obeying a quick command, the gump alighted safely in this very courtyard, and before jinjur had time to do more than scream, the captain and three soldiers leaped out and made the former queen a prisoner, locking strong chains upon both her wrists. that act really ended the war; for the army of revolt submitted as soon as they knew jinjur to be a captive, and the captain marched in safety through the streets and up to the gates of the city, which she threw wide open. then the bands played their most stirring music while glinda's army marched into the city, and heralds proclaimed the conquest of the audacious jinjur and the accession of the beautiful princess ozma to the throne of her royal ancestors. [illustration] at once the men of the emerald city cast off their aprons. and it is said that the women were so tired eating of their husbands' cooking that they all hailed the conquest of jinjur with joy. certain it is that, rushing one and all to the kitchens of their houses, the good wives prepared so delicious a feast for the weary men that harmony was immediately restored in every family. ozma's first act was to oblige the army of revolt to return to her every emerald or other gem stolen from the public streets and buildings; and so great was the number of precious stones picked from their settings by these vain girls, that every one of the royal jewelers worked steadily for more than a month to replace them in their settings. meantime the army of revolt was disbanded and the girls sent home to their mothers. on promise of good behavior jinjur was likewise released. ozma made the loveliest queen the emerald city had ever known; and, although she was so young and inexperienced, she ruled her people with wisdom and justice. for glinda gave her good advice on all occasions; and the woggle-bug, who was appointed to the important post of public educator, was quite helpful to ozma when her royal duties grew perplexing. the girl, in her gratitude to the gump for its services, offered the creature any reward it might name. "then," replied the gump, "please take me to pieces. i did not wish to be brought to life, and i am greatly ashamed of my conglomerate personality. once i was a monarch of the forest, as my antlers fully prove; but now, in my present upholstered condition of servitude, i am compelled to fly through the air--my legs being of no use to me whatever. therefore i beg to be dispersed." so ozma ordered the gump taken apart. the antlered head was again hung over the mantle-piece in the hall, and the sofas were untied and placed in the reception parlors. the broom tail resumed its accustomed duties in the kitchen, and finally, the scarecrow replaced all the clotheslines and ropes on the pegs from which he had taken them on the eventful day when the thing was constructed. you might think that was the end of the gump; and so it was, as a flying-machine. but the head over the mantle-piece continued to talk whenever it took a notion to do so, and it frequently startled, with its abrupt questions, the people who waited in the hall for an audience with the queen. the saw-horse, being ozma's personal property, was tenderly cared for; and often she rode the queer creature along the streets of the emerald city. she had its wooden legs shod with gold, to keep them from wearing out, and the tinkle of these golden shoes upon the pavement always filled the queen's subjects with awe as they thought upon this evidence of her magical powers. "the wonderful wizard was never so wonderful as queen ozma," the people said to one another, in whispers; "for he claimed to do many things he could not do; whereas our new queen does many things no one would ever expect her to accomplish." jack pumpkinhead remained with ozma to the end of his days; and he did not spoil as soon as he had feared, although he always remained as stupid as ever. the woggle-bug tried to teach him several arts and sciences; but jack was so poor a student that any attempt to educate him was soon abandoned. after glinda's army had marched back home, and peace was restored to the emerald city, the tin woodman announced his intention to return to his own kingdom of the winkies. "it isn't a very big kingdom," said he to ozma, "but for that very reason it is easier to rule; and i have called myself an emperor because i am an absolute monarch, and no one interferes in any way with my conduct of public or personal affairs. when i get home i shall have a new coat of nickel plate; for i have become somewhat marred and scratched lately; and then i shall be glad to have you pay me a visit." "thank you," replied ozma. "some day i may accept the invitation. but what is to become of the scarecrow?" "i shall return with my friend the tin woodman," said the stuffed one, seriously. "we have decided never to be parted in the future." "and i have made the scarecrow my royal treasurer," explained the tin woodman. "for it has occurred to me that it is a good thing to have a royal treasurer who is made of money. what do you think?" "i think," said the little queen, smiling, "that your friend must be the richest man in all the world." "i am," returned the scarecrow; "but not on account of my money. for i consider brains far superior to money, in every way. you may have noticed that if one has money without brains, he cannot use it to advantage; but if one has brains without money, they will enable him to live comfortably to the end of his days." "at the same time," declared the tin woodman, "you must acknowledge that a good heart is a thing that brains can not create, and that money can not buy. perhaps, after all, it is i who am the richest man in all the world." "you are both rich, my friends," said ozma, gently; "and your riches are the only riches worth having--the riches of content!" [illustration: the end ] the oz books by l. frank baum _the wizard of oz_ [originally published as _the wonderful wizard of oz_] it is in this book that oz is "discovered." a little kansas girl--dorothy gale--is carried in her house to oz when a cyclone whisks it through the sky. as the house lands in the munchkin country (one of the four great countries of oz) it destroys a wicked witch and sends dorothy off on her first adventure in oz. she finds the scarecrow, meets the tin woodman and the cowardly lion, melts a second wicked witch with a pail of water and finds her way home. since this book appeared a half-century ago, we have learned many marvelous things about the land of oz. _the land of oz_ [originally published as _the marvelous land of oz_] this sequel to _the wizard of oz_ deals entirely with the early history of oz. no one from the united states or any other part of the "great outside world" appears in it. it takes its readers on a series of incredible adventures with tip, a small boy who runs away from old mombi, the witch, taking with him jack pumpkinhead and the wooden saw-horse. the scarecrow is king of the emerald city until he, tip, jack, and the tin woodman are forced to flee the royal palace when it is invaded by general jinjur and her army of rebelling girls. the _land of oz_ ends with an amazing surprise, and from that moment on ozma is princess of all oz. _ozma of oz_ few of the oz books are as crowded with exciting oz happenings as this one. not only does it bring dorothy back to oz on her second visit, but it introduces dorothy to ozma, relates ozma's first important adventure, and introduces for the first time such famous oz characters as tik-tok, the mechanical man, billina the hen, the hungry tiger, and--_the nome king_! most of the adventures in this book take place outside oz, in the land of ev and the nome kingdom. scarcely a page fails to quiver with excitement, magic and adventure. _dorothy and the wizard in oz_ of course, everyone always predicted it would happen! and in this book it does--the wizard comes back to oz to stay. best of all, he comes with dorothy, who is having adventure number three that leads her to oz, this time via a california earthquake. in this book we meet dorothy's pink kitten, eureka, whose manners need adjusting badly, and two good friends who we are sorry did not remain in oz--jim the cabhorse, and zeb, dorothy's young cousin, who works on a ranch as a hired boy. _the road to oz_ we like to think of this volume as "the party book of oz." almost everyone loves a party, and when ozma has a birthday party with notables from every part of fairyland attending--well! it is just like attending ozma's party in person. you meet the famous of oz, and lots of others, such as queen zixi of ix, john dough, chick the cherub, the queen of merryland, para bruin the rubber bear and--best of all--santa claus himself! of course there are lots of adventures on that famous road to oz before the party, during which dorothy, on her way to oz for the fourth time, meets such heart-warming characters as the shaggy man, button-bright, and lovely polychrome, daughter of the rainbow. _the emerald city of oz_ here is a "double" story of oz. while dorothy, her aunt em and uncle henry experience the events that lead to their going to oz to make their home in the emerald city, the wicked nome king is plotting to conquer oz and enslave its people. later we go with dorothy and her friends in the red wagon on a grand tour of oz that is simply packed with excitement and events. while this transpires, we learn also of the nome king's elaborate preparations to conquer oz. as dorothy and her friends return to the emerald city, the nome king and his hordes of warriors are about to invade it. how oz is saved is an ending that will amaze and delight you. _the patchwork girl of oz_ here, the patchwork girl is brought to life by dr. pipt's magic powder of life. from that moment on the action never slows down in this exciting book. it tells of ojo's quest for the strange ingredients necessary to brew a magic liquid that will release his unk nunkie from a spell--the spell cast by the liquid of petrifaction, which has turned him into a marble statue. in addition to the patchwork girl, ojo and unk nunkie, this book introduces those famous oz creatures, the woozy, and bungle the glass cat. oz certainly has become a merrier, happier land since the patchwork girl came to life, and this is the book that tells how scraps came to be made, how she was brought to life, and all about her early adventures. _tik-tok of oz_ for the second time a little girl from the united states comes to oz. betsy bobbin is shipwrecked in the nonestic ocean with her friend hank the mule. the two drift to shore in the rose kingdom on a fragment of wreckage. betsy meets the shaggy man and accompanies him to the nome kingdom, where shaggy hopes to release his brother, a prisoner of the nome king. on their way to the nome kingdom, one fascinating adventure follows another. they meet queen ann soforth of oogaboo and her army, and lovely polychrome, who had lost her rainbow again; they rescue tik-tok from a well; and are dropped through a hollow tube to the other side of the world where they meet quox, the dragon. you'll find it one of the most exciting of all the oz books. _the scarecrow of oz_ this is the oz book which l. frank baum considered his best. it starts quietly enough with trot and cap'n bill rowing along a shore of the pacific ocean to visit one of the many caves near their home on the california coast. suddenly, a mighty whirlpool engulfs them. the old sailorman and the little girl are miraculously saved and regain consciousness to find themselves in a sea cavern. (to this day, trot asserts she felt mermaid arms about her during those terrible moments under water.) from here on, one perilous adventure crowds in upon another. in jinxland they meet the scarecrow who takes charge of things once cap'n bill is transformed into a tiny grasshopper with a wooden leg. an exciting royal reception greets the adventurers upon their return to the emerald city. _rinkitink in oz_ prince inga of pingaree is the boy hero of this fine story of peril-filled adventure in the islands of the nonestic ocean. king rinkitink provides comic relief, and by the time you reach the final page you will love this fat, jolly little king. bilbil the goat, with his surly disposition, provides a fine contrast to rinkitink's merriment and prince inga's bravery and courage in the face of danger. some may say that the three magic pearls are the real heroes of this story, but the pearls would have been of little use to king kitticut and queen garee if prince inga hadn't used them wisely and courageously. _the lost princess of oz_ talk about _button-bright_ getting lost--_ozma_ is almost as bad! this is actually the second time ozma has been lost. as you know, once she was "lost" for many years. but in this book she is lost for only a short time. as soon as it is discovered that the ruler of oz is lost--and with her all the important magical instruments in oz--search parties, one for each of the four countries of oz, set out to find her. we follow the adventures of the party headed by dorothy and the wizard, who explore unknown parts of the winkie country in search of ozma. how ozma is found, and where she has been, will surprise you. frogman, a new character, is introduced in this book. _the tin woodman of oz_ woot the wanderer causes this chapter of oz history to transpire. when woot wanders into the splendid tin castle of nick chopper, the tin woodman and emperor of the winkies, he meets the scarecrow, who is visiting his old friend. the tin woodman tells woot the story of how he had once been a flesh-and-blood woodman in love with a maiden named nimmie aimee. woot suggests that since the tin woodman now has a kind and loving heart, it is his duty to find nimmie aimee and make her empress of the winkies. the scarecrow agrees, so the three set off to search for the girl. no less surprising than the adventures encountered on the journey is nimmie aimee's reception of her former suitor. _the magic of oz_ old ruggedo, the former nome king, comes to oz for the second time, and makes more trouble than he did on his first visit. ruggedo never gives up the idea of conquering oz, and this time he has the advantage of being in the country without ozma's knowledge. also, he has the magic and somewhat grudging help of kiki aru, the munchkin boy who is illegally practicing the art. if you like magic, then this is a book for you. there's magic on every page, and everyone in the story eventually is transformed into something else, or bewitched in one way or another. even the wild animals in the great forest of gugu do not escape. _glinda of oz_ this is the last oz book written by l. frank baum. it is one of the best in the series, with dorothy, ozma, and glinda in an adventure that takes them to an amazing crystal-domed city on an enchanted island. this island is situated in a lake in the gillikin country. ozma and glinda are confronted by powerful magic and determined enemies. for a time dorothy and ozma are prisoners in the crystal-domed city which is able to submerge below the surface of the lake. few of the oz books equal this one in suspense and mystery--a story that is truly "out of this world." [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] * * * * * +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | transcriber notes: | | | | p.6. 'ecstacy.' changed to 'ecstasy.' | | p.208. 'nickle-plate' changed to 'nickel-plate' | | p.285. 'liquid of petrefaction' changed to 'liquid of petrifaction'.| | taken hypen out of pumpkinhead or pumpkinheads. | | fixed various punctuation. | | | | text surrounded by _this_ indicated italics, and text surrounded | | by =this= indicates bold. | | | +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ 