Ozma's Odd Home-Coming
While the dummy King and his friends were making their way to the Emerald City from the North, Ozma and her faithful followers were plodding wearily up from the South through a lonely section of the Quadling Country. The red house in the hunting park had been totally deserted but the Scarecrow, climbing an old wind-mill nearby, had seen dimly through the tree-tops the glittering spires of the capital. Considerably cheered therefore, the little party had continued its journey home.
At about the time Kabumpo was making his grand entry into the city, Scraps, turning to ask Sir Hokus a question, noticed that the Knight was fidgeting about in an extremely odd and alarming manner. They were a bit ahead of the others and for a time Scraps regarded her companion with her head on one side. But silence is not one of the Patch Work Girl's strong points and as the Knight continued to squirm and bounce, she stopped short in the road.
"Why do you jump from side to side and rattle about like a salt shaker? Have you fleas?" inquired Scraps, looking sharply at Sir Hokus. "Is there an ant in your armor, or what?"
"Something—something's tickling me," confessed the Knight, wriggling his shoulders desperately. "Something like—like a sparrow. Ouch!" gasped Sir Hokus, giving himself a shake that unfastened the top buckle of his mailed shirt.
At Sir Hokus' cry, Scraps, too, gave a startled shriek, for out of the Knight's shirt sped the golden goose feather he had tucked there for safe-keeping. Before either of them had recovered from their surprise it poised in the air and began to write furiously on the Knight's burnished shield, while Scraps and Sir Hokus watched breathlessly.
"The King of Oz is in the palace," announced the feather with a flourish, then fluttered down lifelessly in the dust.
"Odds blood! It thinks I'm a blackboard," grunted Sir Hokus indignantly, and nearly bending double to get a glimpse of the writing. "Ozma, Betsy, Trot, Wizard, come quickly!"
At the excited cries, the others, who were just around a bend in the road, broke into a run. Sir Hokus, puffing and still indignant, pointed to his shield. The second message of the magic quill was as amazing as the first, which had sent them to Morrow.
"Well, that saves us hunting for him," observed the Scarecrow, cheerfully picking up the goose quill. "He must have found himself, you know. Shall I keep this my dear?"
"Please do," sighed Ozma, staring hard at the message, which the Knight was vainly trying to rub from his shield, "and let's hurry. Just think, my father is in the castle! Hurry! Hurry! We're almost home!" And setting an example herself, the little fairy girl fairly flew down the road.
"I for one shall not recognize this King," shouted Scraps, running awkwardly after Ozma.
"I wonder whether he'll let us live in the castle?" puffed Trot, who was running hand in hand with Betsy Bobbin. "I kinda wish he'd never turned up, don't you?"
Betsy nodded emphatically, and it must be confessed that all of the others shared Trot's wish. But as Ozma herself seemed so happy at her father's restoration, such thoughts seemed almost treasonable and no one but Scraps voiced his real opinion.
Ozma, being a fairy, did not tire as easily as the rest, but even Ozma had to slacken her pace before they came to the Emerald City. Indeed, it was a hard two-hour journey before they reached the outskirts of the capital. Hot, tired and dusty, they hurried through the quiet streets. No one in the city had discovered Ozma's absence, for the searchers in the palace had gone off without notifying anyone, so they stared in surprise at the breathless little company. Without stopping to explain, the royal party hurried on to the palace itself, for was not the King already there and waiting for them?
Sir Hokus was the first to burst through the tall hedge enclosing the royal residence. He paused, brushed his mailed fist across his eyes and then fell with a crash to the jewelled walk. The Scarecrow, close behind, promptly fell on top of him and Scraps, the Wizard and the little girls, bumping into the two, stopped short in their tracks. For where the castle had stood, there was nothing at all excepting a stretch of lawn, a little greener, perhaps, than in other parts of the garden, but so smooth, no one would have suspected that a castle everhadstood there!
"The King is in the castle, but where is the castle?" groaned the Scarecrow, raising his head and peering over the Knight's shoulder.
"Gone!" wailed the little Queen, rushing forward in dismay. "Everything's gone!" And overcome by the fatigues and disappointments of the day, Ozma threw herself down upon the grass and wept as if her heart would break. Betsy and Trot did their best to comfort her, but what could they say? What could anyone say in the face of so amazing a calamity?
"Come out you villain King and thief!Bring back our home, you robber Chief!"
"Come out you villain King and thief!Bring back our home, you robber Chief!"
"Come out you villain King and thief!
Bring back our home, you robber Chief!"
screamed Scraps, making little dashes backward and forward. Of course Scraps did not expect the King to come out but, as if in answer to her call, there was a shudder and rumble below.
The rumbling continued, grew worse and worse and finally, with an explosion like forty-nine roman candles going off at once, the towers, turrets and gleaming roof of the castle burst through the earth and, impaling the frightened company upon its spires, carried them kicking and struggling into the air. Up, up, and up shot the castle, till the entire structure was standing on its proper foundations. The flag pole had caught Sir Hokus between his mailed shirt and his armor and the Knight was spinning around like a weather cock in a gale. Ozma and the little girls had fortunately been carried aloft on one of the rounded domes and while their position was extremely precarious it was at least comfortable. Scraps hung limply over a filigreed balcony, the Wizard beside her, and the Scarecrow dangled from a spire.
"Wait! Don't move any of you," coughed the straw man. "Wait, I'll fall down and get a ladder!"
And down he plunged!
The Wizard Takes a Hand
The people clinging to the roof of the palace were no more puzzled and alarmed than the ones rattling around beneath the roof. To understand all of these strange and confusing events, we must go back to Mombi's incantation. Mombi, you see, had used the magic formula without the King's robe. Indeed, Mombi had forgottenthatpart of the transformation entirely, and in consequence the great disaster predicted by the Fairy Queen Lurline had occurred.
When the palace had sunk so suddenly into the earth, Dorothy and her companions had been too startled to even move. But when it finally settled down and things grew quiet again, Dorothy, feeling her way cautiously, pressed a small radio button in the wall. Fortunately the lighting system had not been thrown out of order and, as the emerald lamps flooded the throne room with their reassuring glow, everyone gave a sigh of relief.
Kabumpo had wound his trunk around one of the palace pillars and closed his eyes. Now he let go and looked fearfully around him. Mombi had rolled into a corner and Pajuka lay flat on his back with his feet in the air. Tora's ears had flown off from the shock, carrying his spectacles with them, and the poor tailor was uncertainly groping his way toward the door. Snip, who suffered nothing worse than a bump over the eye, ran hastily to his assistance, leading him gently to a large arm chair. Sinking into its comfortable depths, Tora pulled out a red handkerchief and began mopping first his cheeks and then his brow and muttering unintelligibly to himself.
Humpy was sprawled on the floor, his crown jammed down over his nose and his head resting on the last step of the dais. As Dorothy ran to help him up, he made a feeble gesture of protest.
"The kingdom has fallen," puffed the dummy indignantly, "and that lets me out. Ifthisis the way you treat your sovereigns, I'm through. I resign! I abdicate. Let me be the bell boy, or the furnace man. Why even in the movies I have never been treated like this. It's a crime. It's an outrage!" coughed Humpy, struggling to a sitting position and trying to pry his crown upward.
"Now Humpy," began Dorothy reprovingly, "you're talking like a dummy instead of a King. Just wait—"
"Iama dummy," insisted the poor fellow, feeling of himself to make sure. "Has that old wretch changed me one hair's breadth by her villainous magic? Oh, to think I should have sunk so low!"
"She's a fraud," hissed Pajuka, who had also picked himself up. "Woman, how dare you sink the castle in this shocking and informal manner? Where are we and what is to become of his Majesty?"
"Look out, she's trying to get away," warned Snip. The little button boy was right, for at each question Mombi was creeping nearer to the door.
"No you don't!" shrilled Kabumpo, snatching her back with his trunk. "I'll teach you to sink elephants like a ship and play such tricks upon the King!" He began shaking her backward and forward till her very bones rattled.
"Undo this mischief at once. Give me back my own shape. Restore the King!" screamed Pajuka, flapping his wings in Mombi's face.
"Raise up this castle or I'll step on you!" promised Kabumpo furiously.
Mombi looked pleadingly at Dorothy and Snip, but the little boy and girl felt now that any punishment was too good for the old witch.
"Give me time," muttered Mombi, casting uneasy glances from one to the other. "The formula should have restored the King, but something went wrong. I must have more time."
"Here, take it." Stumbling across the room, Humpy pressed a dollar watch into the old witch's hands. "Here's all the time in the world," said the dummy dolefully, "but don't askmeto be King again. Let Kabumpo sit on the throne and see how he likes it."
Turning his back upon the company, Humpy began to run after Tora's ears. Fastened together by the tailor's spectacles, they were flapping wildly around the apartment. Pajuka groaned and covered his eyes with his wing, for the honest goose could not bear to see his old master conducting himself so foolishly.
"Well, what shall I do with her?" Kabumpo shook Mombi again and snapped his eyes angrily at Dorothy.
"She got us into this trouble and now she must get us out," decided the little girl wisely. "Do you think you can?"
The old witch nodded and, at a sign from Dorothy, Kabumpo let her go, at the same time keeping a close guard upon her. Mombi, it must be confessed, was as surprised at the fall of the castle as anyone else, nor could she account for the failure of the magic formula. Hemmed in a corner by the gigantic Kabumpo, she began mumbling in magic and making queer passes in the air just to gain time.
Dorothy watched anxiously, but Snip, who had already had an idea of his own, tiptoed across the room and picked up Mombi's basket. In a sudden flash Snip recalled the skyward flight of the cats in Catty Corners. Was there any more of the marvelous baking powder? Tumbling everything out of the basket, Snip fumbled hurriedly among its contents and with a little cry of triumph found what he was looking for—a small purple can of the magical powder. And, better still, printed in Mombi's crooked writing, were the directions for its use. This is what Snip read:
"To raise hair—one drop in water."To raise the roof—one pinch down the chimney."To raise the rent—five teaspoons full in vinegar."To raise a castle or city empty entire contents of can on spot desired. Sprinkle with water and count ten."
"To raise hair—one drop in water.
"To raise the roof—one pinch down the chimney.
"To raise the rent—five teaspoons full in vinegar.
"To raise a castle or city empty entire contents of can on spot desired. Sprinkle with water and count ten."
Seizing a flower vase from a nearby stand, Snip dumped out the powder and moistened it from the vase. Then, hardly daring to think what would happen, the little button boy began to count.
With a roar as sudden and frightful as when it had fallen, the castle shot upward, gaining speed as it went, up, up, up, till the dark earth was left far below and the massive structure stood on its rightful foundations again.
How Ozma and her friends were caught upon its roof, we already know, for Snip had set off the powder, just as the Little Queen flung herself upon the grass to weep.
While the Scarecrow, with a long ladder from the garden, was helping those on the roof to get down, Snip was hurrying around the throne room helping those inside to get up, for the final jar as the castle settled had knocked everyone over—even Kabumpo.
"Is this exciting enough for you?" asked Dorothy, crawling out from beneath a sofa. The Elegant Elephant groaned, but made no attempt to arise, and Dorothy, rushing over to Mombi, dragged her hurriedly to her feet.
"Now that you've raised the castle," puffed the little girl determinedly, "suppose you transform the King and Pajuka!"
"Mombi didn't raise the castle, I did it myself!" cried Snip delightedly.
"You did!" gasped Kabumpo, rolling over in astonishment. "How?"
Snip held up the empty can and, while Mombi glowered angrily, he explained his use of the marvelous baking powder. Tora's ears were still off so the poor tailor was as bewildered as ever, but Snip nodded to him encouragingly and had just finished his recital when the door in the hall burst open and Ozma, in a perfect flutter of excitement, swept into the throne room—Ozma and everyone who had accompanied her to Morrow.
"The King!" gasped Ozma faintly, for she was rather short of breath. "Where is the King?" Her glance travelled in alarm from Mombi to Pajuka. The goose was waddling after Humpy. Paying no attention to the rise of the castle, the dummy was mounted on a chair in a last effort to capture Tora's ears.
"Dorothy," wailed the sorely tried and tired little fairy, "where is my father?"
"Here! Here!" honked Pajuka, doing his best to make Humpy turn 'round. "This is the King of Oz!"
Dorothy, astonished though she was by Ozma's sudden entry, hastened to break the shock of her disappointment. "You must remember," she explained hastily, "he is not quite himself!"
"He's bewitched—we're all bewitched!" groaned the goose, flapping his wings despairingly.
"Well, who hit me with the castle?" demanded Scraps, staring around indignantly. "I told you the King was a dunce!"
The little girls, Sir Hokus and the Wizard were regarding the stuffed man's actions with horror and dismay.
"Areyoumy father?" faltered Ozma, approaching the dummy timidly. "Why, where have you been all these years?"
"In the pictures," answered Humpy in a matter-of-fact voice. With a final snatch he had captured the tailor's ears and was more interested in them than in his daughter. "I double for the stars, my dear. I fall and die and all that sort of thing. Ask Dorothy, she knows all about me."
"He's been leading a double life," murmured the Scarecrow, looking solemnly at Sir Hokus of Pokes. Then, facing the King, he asked frankly, "Are you a dub or a double?"
"He's bewitched, I tell you," puffed Pajuka, trying to get some attention. "Make her disenchant us!" He shot his neck angrily in Mombi's direction and immediately everyone's attention was directed to the old witch, whom the Elegant Elephant still guarded in the corner.
"Why, there's Kabumpo!" cried Ozma and then, catching her first glimpse of the tailor without ears, she sank limply into a chair and began to fan herself with a doily. "Everything, everything's so queer," murmured the little Queen, looking appealingly at Betsy and Trot.
"Fetch the Green Book of Magic from the library," ordered the Wizard, giving Sir Hokus a push. "Fetch the book and I will put an end to this nonsense!"
Sir Hokus made haste to obey and, before Dorothy could explain all that had happened or introduce her friends, the Knight came back with the green book.
"Here, give me my ears," cried the tailor, who had missed most of the excitement. Snatching them from Humpy, he clapped them quickly in place and turned toward the Wizard. The Wizard looked slightly cross-eyed from astonishment, but swallowing quickly and, determined not to delay the King's restoration another minute, began to flip over the leaves of the book.
"This is it, Incantation No. 980!" panted the little man joyfully. "Two ought to be eaten before seven."
"That's not an incantation, that's Humpy's number," cried Dorothy, pulling out the white tag on the dummy's collar.
"Why, that's what Mombi tried," put in Snip anxiously. "Look out! Something else awful will happen!"
But the Wizard waved them impatiently aside and, throwing the royal robe he had carried all the way from Morrow about Humpy's shoulders, pushed him down upon the throne.
"All but seven leave the room," he ordered crisply and after a short delay the order was carried out. The seven who remained watched tensely as the Wizard approached the stuffed King. Popping two small crackers into his mouth, he gazed fixedly at the dummy. "I command you to assume your natural shape," choked the Wizard, throwing up his arms impressively.
"The King's himself! Long live the King!" shrieked Pajuka, falling flat upon his bill.
Everyone crowded forward to see what happened to Humpy—but the dummy remained as he was.
"Why he's not changed at all," cried Scraps scornfully, and the Patch Work Girl was perfectly right. Except for a slight slump to the left, Humpy had not even changed his position.
"Two ought to be eaten before seven! Two ought to be eaten before seven!" muttered the Wizard, beginning to pace anxiously up and down.
"Two what?" asked Snip. "Are you sure you've eaten the right thing? Mombi swallowed buttons."
"Well, I'm no ostrich and the foot note says two of anything," answered the little man, keeping his place in the book with his forefinger and gazing at the dummy in exasperation.
The Lost King Is Found
The Wizard of Oz was puzzled and mortified. His magic seemed to be no magic at all. The little man was silent. He could think of nothing but his failure.
"Let's all sit down in a circle and think," proposed the Scarecrow, taking Ozma's hand, for he could see the little fairy was ready to cry with disappointment. "The goose feather said the King was in the castle, so he must be here," he insisted cheerfully. "Let Dorothy tell her story and we'll tell ours and then perhaps we can find out what's wrong with our magic."
"Now you're talking sense," approved Scraps, plumping down beside the straw man. "Have Dorothy explain this old goose, this button-button-who's-got-the-button boy and the fellow with the fluttering ears."
"I guess thatwouldbe best," sighed Dorothy. So in less than a wink that whole strange company, with Humpy in the center, dropped down in a circle upon the floor. Kabumpo, holding Mombi fast in his trunk, stood just behind Dorothy, putting in a word now and then or giving Mombi a shake when she objected to any part of the story.
Ozma and her friends could scarcely repress their astonishment and surprise as Dorothy recounted her wonderful adventures with the dummy and told of Snip's exciting journey with the goose and the old witch. Indeed, as the story proceeded, they began to regard Snip and Pajuka with growing admiration and respect, for certainly these two had played an unforgettable part in the history of Oz.
When Dorothy told how Snip had raised the castle with Mombi's baking powder, the company burst into such loud cheers and cries of approval that the little button boy tried to hide behind the tailor. Tora, himself, came in for a goodly share of the interest too, and he smiled pleasantly as Dorothy explained his singular ears and described his escape from the Blanks.
When Dorothy had finished, Ozma quickly related all that had happened in the Emerald City and in Morrow. She told of the deserted castle and the mysterious messages, and the Scarecrow gravely passed around the golden quill.
"I seem to remember this," puffed Pajuka when it had come to him. "Ah, I know! It is the magic quill the King gave me on my last birthday in the castle. It always warned one or the other when either was in danger and I had it in my pocket when Mombi turned me to a goose."
"And I pulled it out when I fell down the well!" cried Snip excitedly.
"And it returned to the spot where the old castle had stood," put in the Wizard, leaning forward sagely.
"Well, that explains the feather, but who will explain the King?" demanded the Scarecrow, looking at the dummy with his head on one side.
"I'm about tired of being explained," mumbled Humpy sulkily. "If you don't pretty soon decide something, I'll go back to America. I've fallen and I've risen and now I want to sit still."
"Perhaps," suggested the tired tailor timidly, for he felt shy in the presence of so many celebrities, "perhaps Humpy is not the lost King at all! The feather said the King was in the palace, but it did not say the dummy was King."
"Bless me," cried the Scarecrow tossing up his hat, "his brain works as fast as his ears. That is an idea!" It had not occurred to any of them that Humpy might not be the King, but now they began to look at one another questioningly.
"But he's the image of Pastoria!" insisted Pajuka. "Don't you suppose I know my own sovereign? Ozma my dear, is this dummy not like your father?"
Ozma nodded: "But it wouldn't do any harm to look around," she added thoughtfully.
"Come on," cried the Scarecrow waving his hat, "we'll hunt from cellar to garret!"
"Keep a trunk on that witch!" called Scraps to the Elegant Elephant, as they all jumped up and started to follow the Scarecrow from the room.
"But wait!" exclaimed the tired tailor, catching hold of the straw man's arm. "How do you know you are not the King yourself?"
"Me the King!" ejaculated the Scarecrow falling back against a pillar.
"Well, Mombi could easily have changed you to a Scarecrow," mused Tora, but Dorothy hastily shook her head, for the Scarecrow's past was well known and though he had been proved an Emperor of Silver Island, she felt he could not be the lost King of Oz.
"Well, somebody in this castle is King," insisted Tora positively.
"But how shall we know?" gasped Dorothy, while the others looked equally puzzled.
"Find the man who fits the King's robe," cried Tora, waving his tape measure. "Try him," he finished, indicating Sir Hokus of Pokes.
"How did you ever think of that?" asked the Wizard admiringly. "Find the man who fits the robe! Why it's as simple as arithmetic. But how did you ever think of it?"
"Well, being a tailor, it occurred to me at once," answered Tora modestly. "The robe fits the dummy perfectly, so I thought at first he must be the King, but when the magic failed to work I concluded that he wasn't."
Mombi sniffed scornfully as the Knight stepped forward but Dorothy and Ozma, remembering Sir Hokus's strange history, felt that he might easily be the lost King of Oz.
Again all but seven left the throne room, and the tailor placed the King's robes carefully about the Knight's shoulders. Then The Wizard, taking two more crackers, gravely repeated the magic formula.
Ozma kept her eyes fixed intently on Sir Hokus. She rather hoped he would turn out to be her father, for she was very fond of the blustery Knight. But nothing at all happened after the Wizard's incantation and Sir Hokus stepped down from the throne with real relief.
"Odds buckles and bonnets, my dear, I would like to be your father but not your King," sighed the Knight. "I prefer fighting to governing any day."
The Wizard cast his eye about for another candidate of proper size and shape to fit the robe, but no one in the room seemed to qualify.
"You're wasting time," grunted Kabumpo irritably. "This person," he waved loftily at the old tailor, "this person had better have kept out of it. What does a tailor know of magic?"
Dorothy looked reprovingly at the Elegant Elephant and just then, catching a glimpse of the Soldier with the Green Whiskers in the doorway, rushed over and pulled him into the room. The Soldier with the Green Whiskers is the entire army of Oz and, while not noted for his bravery, is a great favorite in the Emerald City. Ever since the disappearance of Ozma, he had been hiding in the castle cellar, terribly frightened by its fall and rise. Finally he had screwed up enough courage to venture forth and investigate. Too astonished to move, he had listened to the proceedings in the throne room and watched the Wizard's magic experiments.
"Try him!" puffed Dorothy, hurrying him toward the throne. As the tailor carefully adjusted the robe, everyone gasped at the fit and becomingness of the green garment. It quite transformed the timid old soldier and, complacently stroking his beard, he waited for the Wizard's formula to take effect. But again, nothing at all happened and, dashing the green book of magic into a corner, the Wizard rushed out of the room. At last he had had an idea of his own. He would look in the magic picture and discover at once who was the missing King.
Meanwhile Tora, looking very apologetic, had taken the cloak from the grand army's shoulders. "I was wrong," sighed the tailor shaking his head sorrowfully, "and now there is no one else to try."
Everyone joined in the tailor's sigh, for the afternoon had lengthened into evening and they were still as far as ever from solving the mystery. At each disappointment Pajuka had grown more gloomy and now, waddling up to Mombi, he cried angrily, "Woman, what have you done with the king? Speak! Speak, or I'll peck off your nose!"
"Yes, say something!" shrilled Kabumpo, shaking her violently.
"I remember nothing! I remember nothing! Let me go!" wailed the old witch, howling dismally.
Mombi's screams, Pajuka's threats and Kabumpo's trumpeting almost drowned out another voice that had risen triumphantly above the confusion. It was Snip. Jumping to his feet and running across the room, the little button boy flung his arms 'round the old tailor.
"You never tried it on yourself! You never tried it on yourself!" panted Snip, trembling with impatience. "Here, give it to me!"
While Kabumpo sniffed and the others watched half heartedly, the little boy wrapped the King's robe around the tired tailor, popped two sugar lumps into his mouth and shouted hoarsely, "Two ought to be eaten before seven! I command you to resume your natural shape!"
For as long as you could count ten there was absolute silence. Then a deep voice, very rough and husky, called wildly, "The King! Long live the King!"
"Pajuka!" cried the tired tailor. Rushing joyously down the steps of the throne, he threw both arms 'round a fat, jolly old gentleman. The tired tailor, did I say? But no! He was the tired tailor no longer! The rounded shoulders had straightened up under the velvet robe, the tired eyes sparkled with pleasure and kindliness. Tora, the tailor, no longer, but Pastoria, the King, stood embracing his prime minister, for the same green formula that had restored his majesty had also released Pajuka from his weary enchantment.
"I remember! I remember! I turned him to a tailor and flung him down a well!" squealed Mombi, but in the excitement no one even heard her. The suddenness of the King's restoration had taken even Snip by surprise, but recovering quickly they all pressed forward.
Humpy was the first to reach the throne. "Glad you got the job," grinned the dummy cheerfully. "But let me be your double, old fellow. I'll fall or die for you any time." Making his word good at once, Humpy tripped over the King's foot and fell flat upon his nose.
"Why heisyour double," gasped Dorothy eagerly. "The very image of you."
"King, King, double King, never get him back again!" screamed the Patch Work Girl, and from then on the uproar was tremendous. The courtiers and servants, back from the long day's search, came crowding into the throne room, and when they heard the whole story from the Soldier with the Green Whiskers they added their voices to the general clamor.
"Why the names should have told us," whispered Dorothy to Snip, whom she had dragged into a corner for the confidence. "Tora the tailor and Pastoria, the King. How did we ever miss it?"
Snip shook his head and looked over contentedly at his two best friends. It seemed as if Ozma and her father would never stop hugging one another but at last, with his little daughter on his right and faithful Pajuka on his left, with Humpy standing importantly behind him and Snip in his lap, the King sat down upon his throne and insisted upon hearing all that had happened during his weary exile—for the years he had been in Blankenburg had been blank indeed.
Taking turns, Dorothy, Trot and Ozma did their best to satisfy him. Then Pastoria, himself, told how Lurline, Queen of the Fairy Band, had come to his shop, tried to disenchant him and when she found Mombi's magic too strong for her, had bestowed upon him his remarkable flying ears.
"I'm going to miss those ears," sighed the King, touching his tight-on ones regretfully, "but it's fine to be back just the same and to find my own dear little girl again!"
"There are still two things I don't understand," mused Dorothy, as Pastoria finished speaking. "Why did I change size in California, and how was it you could not get away from Blankenburg till Snip helped you?"
"Both very easy to account for," explained the Wizard of Oz, who was glad to have some part in clearing up the mysteries. "If you had lived in America as long as you have lived in Oz, you would be quite a young lady by now, so of course, when you reached California, you resumed your proper age."
"Then I'm never going back," decided Dorothy, recalling her strange experience with a shudder, "for I'm never going to grow up at all."
"The King was released by Snip," continued the Wizard, paying no attention to Dorothy's remarks, "because kindness and generosity always dull green magic, and, while Snip could not entirely restore the King, he broke part of the enchantment."
There was still so much to wonder and exclaim about and they were all by this time so famished with hunger that Ozma ordered up a splendid feast and in all the annals of Oz there has never been a more delightful nor a merrier one.
The King and Ozma sat at the head of the long table, Snip and Pajuka at the foot, while ranged between were all of the adventurers and all the dear celebrities of Oz. Mombi had been securely locked up in the cellar with a supper of bread and milk and Kabumpo, free from his troublesome charge, had three bales of hay, nicely mixed with peanuts.
Snip, looking sideways at Pajuka, marvelled to think how he had once carried the huge Prime Minister through the forest. There was still something in Pajuka's walk and expression that reminded Snip of the white goose, for all during the evening he was at some pains to conceal his yawns.
Well, with one dainty coming after the other, and one story following the next, the dinner proceeded gaily enough, till no one, not even the Hungry Tiger, could eat another bite. And then it was that Pastoria rose and, turning to Ozma, furnished the last surprise of that exceedingly surprising day.
"I am rejoiced," began the King in his deep, pleasant voice, "to find this beautiful castle and city, built during my absence by our clever Wizard, and to see that the prosperity and greatness of Oz have increased during my exile. Feeling that this is largely due to the wise rule of my lovely little daughter, I now and hereby abdicate in her favor!"
Removing the emerald crown the Scarecrow had hastily brought from the treasury, the King placed it solemnly on Ozma's dark curls.
"But you're not going away!" cried Ozma, catching hold of his arm in great distress.
"Has your Majesty considered this enough?" protested Pajuka, jumping up in a hurry. "What are you—what are we—going to do?"
"Open a tailor shop," smiled the King, "right here in the Emerald City—the finest tailoring shop in Oz. You see," continued his Majesty, looking a trifle embarrassed, "I've grown awfully fond of tailoring and I think on the whole I'm a better tailor than a King!"
There was a moment's silence after this singular announcement. Then, realizing the generosity and wisdom of the decision, the whole company burst into thunderous applause.
"Then everything will be the same. Oh, goody goody!" exulted Betsy Bobbin, squeezing Trot's hand under the table. "Isn't he a perfect dear?"
"Instead of a King's double, I'm a tailor's dummy," sighed Humpy resignedly. "Oh well, I don't care, but you'll have to make me another suit."
"I'll make you a tailored suit. I'll make youallsuits," promised the King enthusiastically.
"Put plenty of pockets in mine!" puffed Pajuka, sinking into his seat with another yawn.
"I'll need a boy in my shop, too," smiled the King, looking down the long table. "How about it, Snip? Will you stay?"
"A good place for a button boy," giggled Scraps, while Snip himself blushed with pleasure and excitement.
"Oh, I'd love to!" cried Snip. "But may I go back to Kimbaloo first and tell Kinda Jolly where I am?"
"Of course, of course," promised the royal tailor, beaming upon everyone. "And now, as we are all tired and sleepy (the King winked at Pajuka who was trying to hide another monstrous yawn) I move that we all retire."
"That will be the second time you've retired to-day," laughed Snip, pushing back his chair and running to open the door for his Majesty. For in spite of his abdication they all felt that Pastoria was a real King.
"Oh, isn't everything turning out splendidly?" sighed Dorothy, pressing the Scarecrow's arm. "The King will be a lot happier as a tailor and every tailor needs a dummy, so that takes care of Humpy. And won't it be fun to have Snip in the Emerald City?"
"I should say!" grinned the Scarecrow, and then, because nobody could stay awake another minute, they bade each other good night and hurried off to bed.
Snip and the Prime Minister shared a sumptuous apartment in the east wing and, hearing a strange noise in the night, Snip sat up in alarm. Pajuka's bed was empty, but standing on one leg over by the window and snoring like a goodfellow (which indeed he was) stood the huge Prime Minister, his head resting peacefully on his shoulder.
"He thinks he's still a goose," smiled Snip, snuggling down under the covers.
The Grand Procession
The next day there was a grand procession through the streets of the Emerald City, in honor of the long lost King of Oz. The Elegant Elephant led off, the King and Humpy—dressed exactly alike—riding proudly on his back. Next rode Ozma upon the famous Saw Horse; then came the Cowardly Lion, carrying Dorothy and Snip; then the Hungry Tiger with Betsy and Trot.
Pajuka, astride the Comfortable Camel, was a sight worth seeing, for the huge Prime Minister was splendidly costumed. Besides this, he had a pipe in each hand, taking first a puff from one and then a puff from the other, so that he was almost hidden in clouds of smoke. Sir Hokus, upon the Doubtful Dromedary, bowed politely to his many friends and acquaintances. Scraps and the Scarecrow followed the Knight and after them marched Tik Tok, the Soldier with the Green Whiskers and all the other famous folk from the palace, down to the smallest page. Slowly and majestically they circled the city, returning tired out, but well satisfied, to the cool and fragrant gardens of the palace.
"Now," sighed Ozma, sliding down from the Saw Horse, "there is nothing left to do but punish Mombi. What shall we do with Mombi?"
"Turn her to a cooky, and then I can eat her up without my conscience troubling me," purred the Hungry Tiger, thumping his tail lazily up and down in the grass.
"She'd make an awfully stale cooky," sniffed Scraps, swinging herself expertly up into a tree. "Turn her into a rock and throw her away."
"Why not put her out like I did the other witches?" asked Dorothy, fanning herself with her best crown, which she had worn in honor of the occasion. "Water will finish her once and forever!"
"I believe I will," mused Ozma. "That is, if father thinks it is all right?" The King, with a huge pair of gold specs on his nose, was busily measuring Snip for a suit, and nodded absently at his royal daughter. "Anything you say, my dear," said the royal tailor, writing down the measurements in a little book.
So off ran Sir Hokus and the Scarecrow to carry out the sentence, returning in a few minutes with Mombi's buckled shoes, all that remained of the old Gilliken Witch and her temper. She had been washed out with water, and would never bother anyone in Oz again.
Just as the royal party was trooping into the palace for lunch, a page rushed out to announce a visitor. It was General Whiffenpuff and a loud noise whom he introduced as the Invisible Cook. Travelling night and day, and searching everywhere for Mombi and Snip, he had finally reached the Emerald City and found the famous cook recommended by the Town Laugher of Kimbaloo. His delight at seeing the little button boy safe and sound was only exceeded by his astonishment at Snip's marvelous adventures, but as the cook, for all her invisibility, had a bad habit of treading on the general's toes, he was anxious to return to Kimbaloo and turn her over to Kinda Jolly.
"I'll take you back," volunteered Kabumpo carelessly. "It's on my way home anyhow." The Elegant Elephant was also anxious to be off and acquaint the court of Pumperdink with the important events that had transpired. He wished to display the emerald head-piece Ozma had given him, and dazzle the courtiers with the silver robe bestowed upon him by the kingly tailor of Oz. So after a quick luncheon, a quick exchange of good-byes and good wishes, the pompous old elephant took his departure, carrying on his back brave General Whiffenpuff, the Invisible Cook and the gallant little button boy of Kimbaloo.
"Hurry back!" called the King, waving his silver shears anxiously at Snip. "I need you!"
"Hurry back," called Pajuka, blinking his eyes to keep from crying, "I'll miss you!"
"I will!" promised Snip, nearly crying himself. "I will!" The last thing the little button boy saw was the Prime Minister diving fully dressed into the pond. Pajuka had again forgotten he was no longer a goose.
If you could peek into the Emerald City this very minute you would see that a splendid tailoring shop has been set up next to the palace—a splendid shop, where the retired King and Snip work happily for part of the day and hold court for the rest. And wherever you find the royal tailor you'll be pretty sure to see his cheerful double.