L. Frank Baum - Oz 35 Read online

  The Scalawagons Of Oz - Oz 35

  L. Frank Baum

  CHAPTER 1

  In the Wizard’s Workroom

  IN the Emerald City of Oz stands Ozma’s palace. In a high tower of the palace is a workshop. Here the Wizard of Oz, a great magician, makes the tools for his magic. His helper is Number Nine, a bright blue-faced boy from the land of the Munchkins. The sun was already up, sparkling on the many gems and precious stones of theEmeraldCity, when Number Nine came up the palace stairs. The large emeralds set in the walls and towers of the city made a soft green glow.

  Number Nine began to pant as he climbed the palace stairs to the highest tower. Reaching the top, he paused for breath. A voice came at him:

  “Three minutes, four-and-a-half seconds late!” Number Nine turned to see who was scolding him. It was a tall clock that stood in the hallway.

  “You’ll have to be more prompt!” the Clock went on, pointing its hands at Number Nine. “You’re always late, and it’s got to stop1”

  “Why don’t you stop?” Number Nine said good-

  naturedly.

  “What good would I be if I stopped?” answered the Clock crossly.

  Number Nine said, “You can’t alarm me. You aren’t an alarm clock!”

  T he boy started toward the door of the Wizard’s

  workroom. But the Clock thumped after him, remaining at his heels and continuing its scolding.

  “Three minutes, four-and-a-half seconds! The Wizard won’t stand for it!”

  Number Nine was already taking off his coat and rolling up his sleeves. He tried to slip through the workroom door, but the angry clock pushed at him.

  “Get out of my way,” cried the boy. “I have work

  to do.”

  “Not until you promise to be like me—right up to the minute!”

  “Instead of talking, you should be ticking,” Number Nine said. Then he quickly opened the workroom door and shut it in the clock’s face. Inside, the boy saw the Wizard quietly at work. The room was filled with apparatus, magical tools, vials, and other paraphernalia. In the center stood one of the Wizard’s most important inventions. It was a large teletable, equipped with a compound gazabo, goggle-optics, and a trumpet eye. With this machine, one could see and hear to any part of the Land of Oz, and the stars beyond. It was very useful in locating missing things and people.

  “Good morning,” the Wizard said. He was a short, round man with a bald head and a remarkable twinkle in his eye.

  “I’m a little late,” Number Nine apologized. “But I couldn’t get my blue mule to walk fast”

  The Wizard chuckled. “Still riding that slowpoke?”

  “He’s a good mule,” Number Nine said. “But the trouble is, he stops to talk to everyone on the way.”

  “A regular blue freak, eh?” said the Wizard. Just then the clock’s face appeared at the open transom above the door.

  “Three minutes, four-and-a-half seconds late!”

  “Go away!” Number Nine called. “What makes you so cranky?”

  “I’m wound with a crank,” the clock answered proudly. “A tick-lish business, too.”

  Tired of talking with the clock, the boy turned back to the Wizard. But the little man no longer there. He had vanished quietly through the window.

  “Get to work,” advised the clock. “I’ll stay here and oversee you.”

  “Why don’t you just overlook me?” said Number Nine, as he began to work. First he took a broom and swept the floor. There was a litter of star-and-diamond dust left from one of the Wizard’s experiments. As the boy worked, a shiny wastebasket jumped out of the corner and followed him around. From time to time it lay on its

  side to allow Number Nine to sweep the dust into it. In a few minutes the floor was clean.

  The wastebasket returned to its corner and Number Nine took up a dust cloth. He went to the teletable and carefully dusted the fine gear wheels and levers, the dials, and the wonderful trumpet eye. When one placed his ear to it, one could see far-off. And by putting one’s eye to it, one could hear far-off. He dusted and polished the swinging telescope mirrors. He tightened the silencer caps on the loud-speaker tanks, so no noise could leak out.

  All this time the clock watched the worker. But Number Nine was doing his work faithfully. At last the clock yawned loudly, slid down from the door, and marched back to its corner.

  Just then Number Nine noticed an ozmic ray lying on the teletable. It was a short line of light not coming from anywhere. “I’ll take this home for my thirteen sisters and brothers to play with,” Number Nine said, reaching for the ray. But it jumped from his hand. At the same time the trumpet eye began to buzz.

  Dropping everything, the boy placed his ear to the trumpet and watched the screen of the teletable. An image appeared there. It became clearer. He saw a

  high, carrot-shaped mountain. The top appeared covered with a red glass dome. Everything around was red, so Number Nine knew that he was looking at the land of the Quadlings, to the south of Oz. Moving the lever, he brought the image close. Now he could see inside the red glass dome. There was the Wizard, talking to Tik-Tok, a copper mechanical man. Tik-Tok seemed pleased, for there was a bright smile on his copper face.

  Number Nine didn’t want to listen to other people’s conversation. He was just lowering the lever to shut out the image, when he saw something peculiar on the screen. He heard his own name mentioned. “Number Nine won’t be late to work any more,” the Wizard was saying. “For he won’t have to ride his blue mule. This new invention of mine will put all mules out of work.”

  As Number Nine tuned out this scene, he could not believe his trumpet eye.

  The Wizard’s newest invention was the strangest thing he had ever seen.

  CHAPTER 2

  The Scalawagons of Oz

  THEY’RE better than blue mules, don’t you think?” the Wizard went on to Tik-Tok, as the two stood under the glass dome of the Carrot Mountain.

  “Bet-ter-and-more-beau-ti-ful,” tocked the mechanical man. There was joy in his voice.

  The two were standing in a large room. All around them stood brightly colored little motor cars.

  “Yes,” said the Wizard, “these scalawagons can do more than blue mules. Just think, there’ll be a free taxi for everyone in Oz!”

  “And-those-with-spiked-wheels-will-be-trac-tors-for-the-farm-ers,” said Tik-Tok.

  “What’s more,” went on the Wizard, rubbing his hands with satisfaction, “when you extend their running boards to the breeze, you have excellent gliders!”

  “Mar-vel-ous,” ticked the copper man.

  “But that isn’t all,” the Wizard continued, opening the door of one of the scalawagons. “Look here.” Tik-Tok bent to see what the Wizard was pointing at. “With this rubber foam on the inside, they’ll be comfortable on rough roads. They’re absolutely unbreakable. And their motors are no bigger than goose eggs.”

  “Con-grat-u-la-tions!”

  The Wizard’s eyes were sparkling. “Look at this center button. Just push it, and out comes LUNCH! Think of it! People will go on picnics in lunch wagons!”

  “Re-mark-able!”

  The little Wizard was beaming so hard that his bald head glistened. “I’ve explained how to pound sense into them. Then they’ll know enough to obey traffic rules. And they won’t need garages, for they’ll understand how to keep out of danger.”

  “In-deed!”

  “Tik-Tok, I appoint you Superintendent of this Scalawagon Factory. For with your mechanical brain, you understand such things.”

  “I-am-proud-of-my-re-spon-Si-bil-i-ty,” Tik-Tok said, lifting his metal chest.

  “Promptly at six o’clock tomorrow, our gracious Queen
Ozma, will see our surprise,” said the Wizard happily.

  “This~will-please-her-bet-ter-than-all-your-for-mer-in-ven-tions.”

  “It was really Number Nine who gave me the idea, though he-doesn’t know it. That slow blue mule of

  his-”

  “Lookout!” warned Tik-Tok.

  The Wizard looked up in time to see a dark, birdshaped object winging around his head.

  “It’s nothing to get in a flutter about,” he said quietly. “Only a peli-can trying to fill the tank with motor-fluid.”

  As he spoke, the peli-can swooped down and thrust its straight beak into a scalawagon’s tank. As the tank filled, the scalawagon reared up on its hind wheels, its engine spitting.

  “You’re getting it too full,” the Wizard said to the peli-can; whereupon the creature flew back to its

  shelf.

  “Great-bolts-and-riv-ets!” exclaimed the mechanical man.

  “Now you know how the tanks are filled,” said the Wizard. He pointed to a large drum in the corner. “But let me warn you: NEVER TOUGH THE FLAB-

  BER-GAS!”

  “Why?” asked the mechanical man. But there was no answer. The Wizard had vanished.

  CHAPTER 3 Tik-Tok Sets to Work

  NOW, let me see,” said Tik-Tok to himself. “What-sign-is-there-that-I-am-Sup-er-in-tendent-of-this-Scalawagon-Factory? Hm-that’s-what-I-need: a-sign.”

  He looked around, every little wheel in him clicking with excitement. Near the desk he found painting materials– a brush, some colors, and a drawing board. With green paint he lettered a sign:

  TIK-TOK,

  MANAGER-IN-CHIEF

  “I-guess-that’s-on-the-right-tack,” he said, as he hung it on the factory door. Then, remembering what the Wizard had told him, he made a second sign:

  HANDS OFF-DON’T TOUCH

  He placed this sign near the drum filled with the dangerous flabbergas.

  “I~don’t-know-just-what-can-hap-pen-and-I’m-not-go-ing-to-find-out,” he said, backing away from the drum.

  Meanwhile, more scalawagons came rolling out from a door marked PRODUCTION ROOM at the side of the factory. The floor was soon covered with

  the small new cars. Tik-Tok stepped quickly to the door and closed it.

  From behind the closed door there came a clanking noise like that of crumpling fenders.

  “Oh-my-oh-my-they’re-pil-ing-up-in-side,” c r i e d

  Tik-Tok.

  He looked around and saw a lever sticking through the wall of the Production Room. Hurriedly he pushed down the lever. The clanking and crashing stopped.

  Tik-Tok nodded with satisfaction. “My-fine-mech-an-i-cal-brain-is-working-well-this-morning.” 28

  The scalawagons filled the floor space and shone in a variety of colors. They were very much alike. Built into their tops were small turrets, with hinged lids.

  Tik-Tok touched the nearest scalawagon and tried to open its lids. But they could not be moved. Then Tik-Tok went to a chest and took out a hammer. It was made of rubber. He tapped gently on the turret of the scalawagon, murmuring,

  “I’ve-got-to-knock-some-sense-in-to-your-head.”

  The result was surprising. The scalawagon’s lids swung open, revealing a pair of large, straight-forward looking eyes. The eyes were filled with sense and good humor.

  Tik-Tok pounded the turrets of the other scalawagons, until all lids were open, and hundreds of scalawagon eyes were fixed on him. Some gave the copper man a friendly wink. Tik-Tok could not return the wink, for his own lids were riveted in place.

  “I-want-you-all-to-feel-welcome-here,” Tik - Tok ticked quickly. His inner machinery was running at high speed with his excitement. Every cog and wheel inside him was strained to the limit. But he did not notice this.

  “There’s-a-dull-look-ing-one,” he said. Going to a scalawagon, he gave it a smart blow with his hammer. Immediately the scalawagon brightened.

  There was no doubt that the Wizard had chosen the best person in Oz as manager. Everything about Tik-Tok was mechanical, even his inclinations. And he was a tireless worker. With one hand he lifted a scalawagon and placed it on a scale. “Twenty-five-pounds,” he said to himself. Replacing it, he went on:

  “No-won-der-the-Wiz-ard-is-won-der-ful.-He’s-al-ways-per-forming-wonders.”

  He saw a scalawagon looking sleepy, and going to it, smacked it so hard that it fell on its side. When he righted it, he saw a look of amazement in its large blue eyes.

  “Kind-ly-come-to-your-senses,” said Tik-Tok.

  With his rubber hammer under his arm, Tik-Tok went about examining the cars. With a tap here and a smack there, he got them all in condition. At last he was satisfied, and started to tell them so. But the strain of the work was telling on his copper constitution. His machinery was running more and more slowly.

  Grasping his rubber hammer, Tik-Tok placed his feet firmly on the floor and leaned against the open door. The door was close to the edge of the steep carrot-shaped mountain.

  He tried to speak, but after a few faint clicks he became rigid.

  He had worked too hard and was completely rundown.

  CHAPTER 4

  In Lolly-Pop Village

  WHILE Tik-Tok stood helpless, the day brightened about Carrot Mountain and the land of Oz that spread all around. To the north, through the bright air, the Emerald City glittered in green splendor. Beyond lay the purple land of the Gillikans. To the east, in a

  yellow glow, was the land of the Winkies. To the west, a blue haze revealed the Munchkin country. And all around them, spread like a red quilt, the land of the Quadlings. In these countries, people and things were all of one color-purple, yellow, blue, or red.

  Close by the base of Carrot Mountain ran a red road. On this road was the castle of Glinda, the fair sorceress who ruled the Quadlings. The road ended in a curious little village. It was on this village that Tik-Tok’s eyes were fixed. His last thought, before his machinery had ceased, had been: “If-only-someone-there-could-help!”

  The village had only six houses, and a sign-post which read:

  THE LOLLY-POPS Just as the new day was brightening, the doors of all the houses burst open, and six little Lollies pushed their six Pops out into the street. The Lollies were no older than five years, with pink, chubby hands and sweet faces. Their Pops were lazy old fellows, who stood in the middle of the road, leaning together. No one thought of looking up at Carrot Mountain. Even if they had, they would not have been able to see Tik-

  Tok.

  One Lolly, a determined tot, stood in the doorway

  with her hands on her hips, calling,

  “Go along now, Pop. With the wash to be done, you can’t sit on my washtub any longer!”

  “Aw, now, Minty,” said the old fellow, “1et me just loll along in my own way! If only you weren’t so peppery, but sweet, like your cousin Scotchy.”

  “That butter-ball! Pooh. At least I’m not a sour-face, like my lemon-flavored cousin. Or always black in the face, like Choco.”

  Pop shook his head and began to shuffle down the road. When he got to the sign-post, he was joined by the other Pops, who had been pushed out of their houses by their industrious daughters. The six lazy old fellows leaned against each other, remaining Silent. They knew that their talk had no flavor.

  Meanwhile, the Lollies got busy with their housework. Minty, who seemed the most industrious Lolly in the village, took a bucket and started up the road. The five other Lollies came out of their houses, each with a bucket on her head, and followed Minty.

  They came to a broad red brook, shaded by red pine trees. From out of the brook came a lively, low music. The Lollies knelt and dipped their buckets. No water, but a host of tiny water fairies floated into the buckets. As the Lollies lifted their filled buckets

  and started back, the water fairies put their bright little heads over the edges and smiled delightedly at getting a ride.

  Little Minty was the first to reach home. She went directly into the livin
g room. There she lowered her bucket, and with a swish, spread the water fairies all over the room. They rippled across the rug and into every corner. As they leaped to their feet, they gathered every speck of dust and dirt.

  Then the fairies started for the door. Their faces and arms were covered with grey and pink dust streaks. As they reached the doorway, Minty held her bucket down and caught every one of them. Next she went to the kitchen, where she again tumbled the fairies over the floor. Again they set to work gathering up the dust and dirt. When they were ready to hop back into the bucket, they seemed made of mud.

  ‘I can’t get any more cleaning from such soiled little fairies,” Minty said. “Back to the brook you go!”

  Carrying the bucketful of fairies, Minty returned to the brook. The shade was pleasant under the red trees, and the red water sang delightfully.

  Gently, Minty stooped and lowered the bucket, letting the fairies escape. They slipped into the water and quickly washed themselves clean. No sooner were they clean, than they began to scramble back into the

  bucket. They were ready to do more work. But Minty had had enough of housework. She shooed the fairies back into the brook, overturned her bucket, and sat on it. She was careful to keep her feet out of the water, for she did not care to dissolve.

  Just then a pompous red bull-frog came strutting along the opposite bank— He was singing at the bottom of his deep voice. A gold watch-chain swung from his pocket, and this seemed to make him feel important