L. Frank Baum - Oz 34 Read online

  “He’s a hog for learning,” said Dorothy. “And besides, I don’t think he’d mind. Go ahead, Uncle Henry, and give your best hog call.”

  “Hold on, everybody. Here I go!” said Uncle Henry, and he cupped his hands around his mouth and emitted the loudest, strangest cry that Jenny had ever heard. It was a yodel and a whoop and a siren scream all in one. It echoed through the empty floors below and was carried up again on the reversible chute.

  “Sakes alive!” said Aunt Em admiringly. “Too bad our old neighbors back in Kansas couldn’t hear that! I’m proud of you, Henry.”

  They heard the key turn in the door, and, as the door opened, they saw Professor Wogglebug standing there, yawning and stretching.

  “Haz, hum!” he said. “I trust this interruption is due to no trivial cause.”

  The Professor opened his eyes wider. “Our Queen

  herself! Then I know this disturbance is for a worthy reason. I was lost in thought, and for three days I’ve been trying to find my way back. Then I heard a sound and guided myself back by it.”

  “That was Uncle Henry’s hog call,” said Dorothy. “No matter.” The Professor waved his antennae with dignity. “Pray enter, and break the solitude of my sanctum.”

  The Wogglebug stood aside, and the royal party entered, walking carefully so as not to stumble over the books and papers that overflowed the table and the chairs and lay in piles on the floor.

  “I must ask you to leave everything in exactly the disorder in which you see it,” said the Professor. “Please seat yourselves as best you can. You, gracious Queen, may have my chair.”

  While Ozma occupied the only vacant chair, the others sat on piles of books. The two beasts crouched quietly in two corners.

  “We are sorry to disturb you, Professor,” said Ozma, “but we want to discuss the ozlection. This was the best place to meet.”

  “Meat? Did someone say meat?” the Hungry Tiger leaped up.

  Everyone smiled at the beast, and the Tin Woodman said kindly, “Here you will find only food for

  thought.” The Tiger sank back in his corner.

  “A-humph!” said the Professor. “The first thing to decide on is a new method of voting. Has anyone thought of a way?”

  The others were silent and shook their heads. The Professor took off his spectacles, breathed on them, and polished them with his handkerchief.

  Ozma said, “We have come here to get your advice. This time nothing must happen to the votes.”

  Princess Dorothy spoke up, “We must hold the ozlection soon.”

  The Professor said, “This is a matter of great weight. But the wait need not be great.”

  “But what will be the way to vote?”

  The Professor smiled wisely. “The way is to

  weigh.”

  “My, he sure talks like a professor,” said Aunt Em, looking blank.

  “Humph! Thank you, madam.” The Wogglebug bowed, upsetting the pile of books on which he was sitting. With undisturbed dignity, he seated himself on another pile.

  Uncle Henry said, “It sounds mighty learned, but for my part, I don’t know what it means.”

  “Neither do I,” said Glinda.

  “Wait !” said the Wogglebug. “You’ll soon understand that we’re discussing weight.”

  Aunt Em looked blanker than ever. Jenny spoke up, “The Professor means that the voters will step on a scale and be weighed!”

  “Excellent, dear child!” said the Professor. He went on, looking from one to the other, “In spite of the good things that Jenny has done for our people, and her being well liked, there is no doubt that Ozma will get most of the votes. When a candidate gets almost all the votes in an ozlection, there occurs a landslide. And a landslide in such a well-laid city as ours would be nothing short of a Catastrophe!”

  “That would be dreadful!” said Glinda the Good, shuddering.

  “To prevent a landslide,” the Professor went on, “we must see that the candidates’ votes are almost evenly balanced.”

  “But how can we do that?” asked the Scarecrow, whose straw brains were poking out of his head from the effort to understand the Professor.

  The Tin Woodman added, “You just said yourself that most of the people will vote for Ozma.”

  “I think what the Professor means,” said Jenny, “is that we must leave the ozlection to CHANCE.”

  The Professor beamed and bowed toward Jenny. “Exceedingly bright! If Ozma were not such a beloved Queen, I might wish that you could take her place. But of course that is unthinkable.”

  “Unthinkable!” said everybody else in a chorus, except Jenny.

  “I am more in the dark than ever,” said Uncle

  Henry.

  “That is not surprising,” said Aunt Em. “The lamp is burning low.”

  “Dear me,” said the Professor, “I’m all out of midnight oil. We’ll have to adjourn the meeting. Leave everything to me. You, Queen Ozma, order the Town Crier to cry to every household that the people must find their way to the Public Square next Choose Day early, when the weighing will get under way. Each in his way will weigh himself. There will be entertainment for those who must wait to leave their weight.”

  Dorothy clapped her hands and cried, “I can’t wait till next Choose Day. This ozlection is going to be a lot of fun,”

  CHAPTER 25

  The Great Ozlection

  ALL ROADS running toward the Emerald City from the four countries of Oz were filled with traffic. Everyone was coming to vote and shop. Every kind and color of wagon was rolling along. On the Gillikin high road there were odd little carts drawn by purple goats and spotted dogs covered with bells and tassels.

  On the main Quadling thoroughfare a farmer who was very red in the face rode a roan horse with his wife and three children in a single saddle. There was a jostle and a clatter of happy family parties. When these travelers reached the top of a hill from which they could get a clear view of the Emerald City, they all stopped to admire the sight.

  The towers and spires were sparkling in the sun. Colored banners snapped and rolled in the morning breeze. The green, yellow, red, purple, and blue visitors in the streets looked like moving flowers. In the center of the city, the palace and its lawns looked like a jewel set on green velvet.

  After the travelers had passed the Guardian of the Gate, they saw the city houses smiling with welcome. Flowers of gay colors showed from every yard and house. The trees were fussing and primping

  and arranging their fruit and branches to look more attractive.

  The Town Crier kept wandering around the city, wailing, “Weigh in at the Public Square! All out for the ozlection!”

  A few people were still asleep. But the houses, hearing his sobs, shook them out of their beds. The visiting voters left their carts in the pumpkin field and proceeded on foot toward the Public Square, close to the palace.

  A broad path led to the heart of the Square, where there were two platforms. On one platform sat Queen Ozma, and on the other, Jenny. Both girls were dressed alike in gold-spangled dresses covered with small question marks and X’s in honor of the ozlection. The dresses had just been turned out of the turn-style.

  Beside each girl stood a large weighing scale of pure silver, inlaid with emeralds, in the best Oz-ish manner. Between the two platforms stood Professor Wogglebug. In one hand he held a speaking-tube.

  “Humph!” he cleared his throat, and raised the

  speaking-tube to his lips. “ATTENTION, EVERYBODY!”

  The laughter and talk in the Public Square ended,

  and the people listened to the Wogglebug. The Professor bowed in appreciation of the silence. Then he raised his speaking-tube again.

  “With full use of my wisdom and forethought, I have arranged this ozlection. The candidates are our gracious Queen, Ozma, and Miss Jenny Jump, Stylist. To avoid any mistake, I have decided that Chance alone will rule. You good people from our fair lands will form a single line. The first person in the line
will step onto Ozma’s platform scale and weigh himself. The second person will step on Miss Jenny Jump’s scale. The third will go to Ozma’s, the fourth, to Miss Jenny Jump’s, and so forth.

  “I shall keep a record of the weights. The candidate who has in her favor the most poundage of our noble citizenry will be our future Ruler. Now, will a line please form.?”

  The Wogglebug ran among the people, directing them to take their places. Then, looking at his watch, he said, “It is now seven fifteen, A. M. The time for voting has come. You, Winkie girl”-he pointed to the first person in the line”—proceed to Ozma’s scale.”

  Professor Wogglebug hurried after the Winkie girl. As she stepped onto the scale, the Professor took out his notebook and said, “Sixty-seven pounds.

  Sixty-seven votes for Ozma.” He wrote “67” in his notebook under the name of Ozma.

  “Next, you Gillikin boy. Don’t be bashful. Step right up to Miss Jenny Jump’s scale. It is not only your right, but your duty, to vote!”

  The boy timidly approached Jenny Jump’s platform and stepped on the scale. “Ahz,” cried the Professor. “Eighty-seven pounds.” He wrote the number in his notebook under the name of Jenny.

  “Let me see-sixty-seven subtracted from eighty-seven leaves twenty-that’s twenty votes in Miss Jenny Jump’s favor!”

  But after two more people had been weighed, the Professor cried out, “Our Queen is now leading by nine votes!”

  Jenny felt strange, there before so many people. Now she knew exactly how a queen must feel.

  “It’s not all fun,” she said to herself. “But just the same, I want to be Queen. If I win, I intend to move into the royal palace. But I’ll hate to give up the Style Shop.”

  There were many faces in the crowd that gave Jenny a friendly smile. She could see many of her styles on the people. At this point, the Soldier with the Green Whiskers was directed by the Wogglebug

  to Jenny’s scale. A huge gold medal covered half the Soldier’s chest. He stepped on Jenny’s scale, and the Wogglebug shouted, “One hundred fifty-five pounds of Army vote.”

  The Soldier turned indignantly. “I beg your pardon, Professor Wogglebug, T.E. But according to the Records of the Army, my weight has always been one hundred twenty-five. There is no reason why I should be twenty-five pounds overweight today!” The Soldier was still standing on the scale, and the pointer touched 155. The Professor put his hand on the scale.

  “Do you dispute the accuracy of this instrument?”

  he said.

  The Soldier turned greener with anger. “Are you calling the Army Records false?” he shouted.

  The Wogglebug drew back, studying the Soldier. His eyes fell on the large medal.

  “Ah, haz!” he said, pointing at the Soldier’s chest. “That explains everything!” The Soldier’s eyes fell on the medal, and his face broke into a smile. “Ahz, yes, I had forgotten. My decoration for saving the city from the chocolate army.”

  He marched away from the scale, and Ozma leaned toward Jenny’s platform.

  “I have been thinking of-” said Ozma, when the Wogglebug stepped between the two platforms. “Ladies, ladies! I beg to remind you that you are holding up the line!”

  “I beg your pardon, Professor,” said Jenny and

  Ozma.

  The Wogglebug called, “Next, please. Keep the line moving.”

  The weighing-in continued. The votes kept closely balanced. First Ozma would be ahead, then Jenny would overtake her, or pass her. The people were in a state of great excitement, not knowing how the ozlection would turn out at the end.

  As noon approached, the footmen from the palace set up picnic tables in the Public Square. Someone said to Jenny, “Could you tell me what the score is now?” But Jenny could not see anyone speaking to her.

  “It is 15,009 votes for Ozma, and 15,010 for myself.” She looked around, “Are you the Voice That Lost His Man?”

  “The same. Has my Man been weighed in yet?” asked the Voice.

  “I don’t know,” said Jenny.

  “Oh, here he comes. My vacation is over !” The

  Voice had both disappointment and pleasure in its tone.

  Coming from the front of the line and stepping around the Wogglebug, Jenny saw a stout, dark man with pointed, waxed mustaches. He waved his hands as he walked, and when he stepped on the platform he wiggled his fingers, as if he were trying to shape words with them.

  “I don’t know what you are trying to say,” said Jenny. Then she heard the Voice, “Here I am, Master! Is that horrid Cold out of your throat?” The dark, round man rolled his eyes and exposed his even rows of teeth in a grin. He waved his arms and danced, his face radiant with joy. But not a sound did he utter.

  “Oh, Master! I know what you would sing if you had me inside you.” The Voice burst into song beside the singer 5 head, “0, Sole Mio!”

  The man clapped his hands and seemed speechless with delight. Then the Voice said, “Farewell, freedom! Farewell, the open road!” The next time it spoke, it came from the throat of the man.

  “Ahz !” cried the man. “At last my golden voice is with me again! Never, never do I fish in the drafts again! To you, Miss Jenny Jump, I am so happy, I give my weight and my heart!”

  The Professor said, “Just the weight, if you

  please.”

  The singer bounded on the scale. The pointer went swinging to three hundred pounds!

  “Thank you,” cried Jenny. “If all my voters weighed as much as you, I’d be sure to win the ozlection.”

  As the singer was departing, his mouth wide open in song, a midget came up. While the fattest woman in Oz stepped on Ozma’s scale, the midget weighed in on Jenny’s.

  Jenny was ready to cry. For Ozma was now in the lead. A few minutes later the Wogglebug announced that lunch was ready for everyone. After lunch the voting was resumed. The score kept teetering between Ozma and Jenny. Everyone known to the people of Oz was weighed in-Sir Hokus, Princess Dorothy, Aunt Em, Uncle Henry, Jellia Jamb, Polychrome, and many others. At night a full moon hghted the Public Square. All over the city, fireworks and entertainments were going on. No one thought of sleeping. The houses remained wide awake, sharing the excitement. There was only a small line of voters remaining unweighed. The score still was so close that it looked as if the

  ozlection would be decided with the last votes. Number Nine and his family stood patiently near the end of the line. When the office boy stepped on Jenny’s scale, he grinned and leaned close to Jenny, saying, “I’m glad I’m voting for you, Boss.”

  “If I become Queen,” said Jenny, “you shall be my front page boy.”

  “Thanks, Boss. I’d like that. But if you don’t get to be Queen, don’t feel bad.”

  Jenny tossed her head. “I guess my chance is as good as Ozma’s.”

  Each member of Number Nine’s family was weighed in and then vanished into the crowd. As the last people in the line drew closer, word began to spread over the city that the ozlection was soon to be decided. The people left their fireworks and games and massed in the Public Square.

  “A-humph!Attention, everybody!” The Professor stepped to the front of Ozma’s platform. He held up his notebook, reading aloud. “The score between the candidates is now: Queen Ozma, one million, six hundred thousand and seven pounds. Miss Jenny Jump, one million, six hundred thousand and twelve pounds. Miss Jenny Jump is leading by five pounds. And there are only two voters left to cast their weight!”

  The crowd burst into a tremendous shout. The Wogglebug held up his hand.

  “Please, please! Save your shouting for the ozlected Ruler of our fair land. Voter, step up to Queen Ozma’s scale.”

  Jenny’s heart was beating fast. Two more votes, and the ozlection would be decided! She might be Queen!

  The next to the last voter stepped onto Ozma’s scale. A tense silence hung over the Public Square. When the Wogglebug spoke, his voice trembled with excitement.

  “This voter weighs eighty
-three pounds, bringing Ozma’s total votes to one million, six hundred thousand and ninety pounds. And now, the last voter, who will decide the future destiny of Oz !” Jenny was so excited, her feet kept twitching.

  “Am I to be Queen of Oz?” she whispered to herself. A weary old man stepped on Jenny’s scale. “Seventy-eight pounds!” announced the Wogglebug. “Bringing Jenny Jump’s total to one million, six hundred thousand and ninety pounds. Great Socrates’

  socks! IT’S A TIE!”

  The people went wild. “A tie, a tie,” they cried, and many took off their neckties and waved them in

  the air.

  Jenny jumped from her chair. “What are we to do?” she cried.

  The Wogglebug shook his head. “The same number of people voted for Ozma as for Jenny. And there is no one left to vote.”

  “Does that mean we are both to be Queen?” asked Jenny, her heart bobbing in her throat.

  “Not an ant’s chance! Only one person can be Queen in Oz. That is the unwritten law of the land!” declared the Wogglebug.

  “Must we have another ozlection?” asked Ozma, sounding a little tired.

  The Professor joined his hands behind him and paced up and down. “Your Majesty, I am confounded and dumfounded! We have the problem-but where is the answer?”

  “Here!” came a cheery voice. Jenny, Ozma, and the Wogglebug stared toward the place from which the voice had come. There, walking down the moon path on Ozma’s platform, came a tiny man with a beard as bushy as a porcupine and a battered old hat with an owl’s feather.

  “It’s Siko Pompus!” cried Jenny. “He can decide the ozlection.”

  “And that I am meanin’ to do, my dear,” said

  the Leprechaun. “It’s glad I am to see ye all!” He spun around on his toe, nodding to everyone. The people crowded closer to see the queer little man, and to learn how he would determine the outcome of the ozlection.