L. Frank Baum - Oz 34 Read online

  The shape at which he had shouted moved closer. Sir Hokus could hear a slobbery breathing in grass around his feet. The good knight struck out with his sword.

  “Have at you!” he cried. “Are you a dragon ‘Tis a long time since I’ve fought one!”

  Slash, slash, went his sword through the air. Suddenly Sir Hokus went sprawling on his back 5omething funnel4ike had knocked him over.

  “Help! Ho!” cried the knight, as he felt the funnel close around his right foot and begin to suck at it. He felt the rivets that held the iron shoe to his armor begin to break. “The Heelers! The Heelers!” he cried.

  From every side the cry was taken up. “The Heelers! The Heelers!” screamed the people, running to find safety where they could.

  The Heelers sprang at them, knocking them down and sucking off their right shoes! No one was really hurt, but everyone was frightened. The air was filled with screams, barking, babies’ cries, and the hoggish SHLUSH! SHLUSH! of wet snouts.

  People, running in the darkness, bumped together and fell, rolling in the street. When they picked themselves up, they were unharmed, except for the loss of one shoe. But they kept running and screaming.

  In Pancake Park, the Heeler that had attacked Sir Hokus was coughing and choking on the knight’s

  iron shoe. It had caught in his throat, where it rasped like a file. Sir Hokus got to his feet shouting, “I’ll pinion thee beneath my blade!”

  He thrust his sword at the choking shape, but the Heeler slithered away in the darkness. Sir Hokus hopped after him, in his one shoe. Down on Strawberry Street, Jenny and Whistlebreeches were just finishing counting the day’s votes in the basement.

  “If we hurry, we can get to the concert before it is over,” Jenny was saying to Whistlebreeches. “Ho, hum!” yawned the office boy. “This overtime work is wearing me out. Music hath charms, but give me my sleep. Ho, hah, hum!” He yawned and stretched his arms.

  Jenny stopped counting and held up her head. “Do you hear some screaming?” she said. The sleepy boy jumped up, instantly wide awake. “I certainly do! Something terrible is happening. Let’s hide in the coal bin!”

  “Who’s afraid?” asked Jenny, starting up the basement stairs. “I’m going out and see what’s

  the—YEEOW! WHAT’S THAT?”

  A dozen Heelers were sliding down the stairs. Number Nine jumped into the coal bin and covered himself with coal.

  “Get out of here!” Jenny yelled. A long snout was reaching for her right foot. She gave the snout a kick, but her right foot was caught. Jenny pulled and pulled. “Let go!” she screamed. But her foot was held fast in the snout. When at last she pulled it free, the shoe was gone.

  The Heelers rushed past her and with disgusting grunts and snorts fell to eating the pile of votes.

  SHLUSH! SHLUSH! SHLUSH!

  “I must go and warn Ozma,” thought Jenny. Stealing around the busy Heelers, she ran up the stairs and out to the street. It was completely dark, and hundreds of shapes seemed to be rolling around her. Several Heelers sniffed at her shoeless right foot and slunk away. Jenny ran, pushing her way through the crowd, toward the pumpkin field, where she knew Ozma was.

  The Heelers had now eaten all the right shoes in the city and were poking their snouts in all the corners and vacant lots. They were coming closer to the pumpkin field. Jenny was running as hard as she could, but it seemed that she would never get there. Then she remembered her fairy foot.

  “Leaping Leprechauns! I can be there in a bounce!” She stopped running and stamped down

  on her fairy foot, and went sailing through the darkness, right into the pumpkin field.

  She came down close to Ozma, just in time to hear the Queen say, “Dorothy, Jellia, Aunt Em, and Uncle Henry, jump into the carriage, quickly! We must dash back and ask Professor Wogglebug how to handle the Heelers, since our magic will have no Ieffect on them.”

  “Your Highness, it’s too late!” Jenny cried. “The Heelers are right on the edge of the pumpkin field now!”

  “Mercy sakes! What shall we do?” exclaimed

  Aunt Em.

  The people around Ozma were crying, “Save us! Save us, gracious Queen!” And the clatter of Sawhorse’s hooves could be heard as the wooden animal began galloping around in excitement an calling, “Help! Thieves!”

  Ozma was close to tears. “If only there were some light,” she said. “Then the Heelers’ shadows would come out. The professor said that Heelers are afraid of their shadows.”

  From the far edge of the pumpkin field a few screams came.

  “They are already attacking the audience!” cried Dorothy. “Quick, Ozma, think of something!”

  “I shall command the Cowardly Lion to roar. That ought to hold them off for a few minutes,” Ozma said. Stepping forward to where the carriage stood, Ozma placed her hand on the head of the blindfolded Cowardly Lion.

  “Dear friend, roar as you have never roared

  before!”

  “What’s the matter?” asked the Cowardly Lion, beginning to shake with fear.

  “Don’t worry. Just roar as loudly as you can.” The Cowardly Lion opened his mouth and gave a tremendous roar. It was heard in the farthest corners of the city. The cries and screams stopped.

  Ozma turned to Jenny. “Could you jump to the palace gardens?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Jenny.

  “Then you can save us,” said Ozma. “Jump to the gardens, wake the firefly fairies, and tell them to light up the whole city as brightly as in the afternoon, when the shadows are long.”

  With a bounce of her magic foot, Jenny was off. The Cowardly Lion kept roaring, but the screams had begun again. The cunning Heelers had seen that no harm came from these roars.

  “Can’t you roar louder?” Ozma said to the Cow-Page 85

  ardly Lion.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?” asked the Cowardly Lion. “If I thought there was danger close by, I would faint!”

  “Don’t think of danger. Just roar as loudly as you can,” replied Ozma.

  “Oh, look! There, by the palace!” exclaimed Jellia. Everyone looked upward. Far off, a path of light was rising from the ground and streaming over the city. The air became bright with the lanterns of a million trillion firefly fairies. There was a constant stream coming from the palace garden. The river of light came toward the pumpkin field. The field became as bright as dawn.

  In the new light, Ozma, Dorothy, and the rest saw the horde of Heelers stop in their hunt and look behind them. Their shadows were growing! The Heelers began to shiver and whine with fright. The firefly fairies kept flying about, lighting up the air, and the shadows kept growing larger and larger. Soon they were larger than the Heelers! Then the shadows flung themselves upon the Heelers, biting them, yanking their tails, chewing their ears and snouts. The Heelers bellowed with pain and fright. They turned and went racing toward the city gate. Their shadows, in hot pursuit, drove them forward

  and through the gate.

  Not a single Heeler was left in the Emerald City! Then through the air came Jenny, returning to the pumpkin patch.

  “Well done!” cried Ozma, putting her arms around

  Jenny.

  Jenny smiled with pleasure at this embrace, and then suddenly she began to weep.

  “They ate up all my votes!”

  “Never mind,” said Ozma. “Professor Wogglebug will think of some other way to vote. Shoes won’t count after this. I’ll let Jack Pumpkinhead keep my votes for his Glee Club.”

  Jenny felt better. She smiled. “That’s good of you, Ozma. You have enough votes now to win this ozlection.”

  “Oh, no,” said Ozma. “If I won now, the ozlection would be ended. And the people are enjoying it so much!”

  The shoes that had run in fright and hidden in the ozoplane now came out and gathered up their pieces and instruments. The Sawhorse once more stationed itself near the ozoplane door. From all parts of the pumpkin field, the audience were leading their cats home
ward. Jack Pumpkinhead took a bow before

  the empty seats.

  Ozma said, “Jenny, you must ride home with us in the carriage.”

  Jenny and the royal party got into the carriage, and Tik Tok drove them to the palace. When all dismounted, Dorothy took her handkerchief from the eyes of the Cowardly Lion.

  “Now,” she said, “we want to thank you for your brave deed.”

  “What brave deed?” asked the Cowardly Lion in

  surprise.

  “Your splendid roars frightened back the Heelers, who were ready to jump upon us.”

  “What! Were the Heelers there all the time I was

  roaring?”

  “Right next to us!” said Dorothy.

  There was a thud. The Cowardly Lion had fainted!

  Now the firefly fairies were returning to the palace gardens. The city was darkening once more. As the last person went through the city gate, the old Guardian awoke, looked out on the Land of Oz, and said to himself, “My, what a peaceful night this has

  been!”

  CHAPTER 14

  An Unexpected Visitor

  NUMBER NINE’S Uncle, the emerald cutter, was sitting before his window and admiring an emerald that he had cut four months ago. There was nothing more for him to do. He had inlaid every walk and gatepost in the city with emeralds. Since there was no more work, he sat around and got very lazy.

  He no longer even prepared the meals, and Number Nine was late for work many mornings because he had to fix breakfast for himself and his uncle. This morning, Number Nine stood before the stove, turning the pecan pancakes. His eyes were half open, and he was yawning as he worked. Finally he said, “Breakfast—ready!”

  He brought the coffee pot to the table and began pouring his Uncle’s coffee. Only water came from the pot.

  “You forgot to put in the coffee grounds,” his Uncle said. “But it’s too much bother to do that. We’ll just drink hot water this morning.”

  At last Number Nine started for Jenny’s Style Shop. “Goodbye, Uncle!” He was already twenty minutes late. His breeches had begun to whistle. He

  would have to run all the way, or Jenny’s temper would boil.

  “If only Jenny were younger,” thought Number Nine, “she would think more about playing and less about working.”

  As he was walking up Pudding Place, he saw a street magician pulling rabbits out of his hat. Number Nine stopped. The magician was a dapper little man with ruddy cheeks and twinkling eyes. He wore a high checkered silk hat. When he saw Number Nine, he pulled a fruit cake out of his hat, broke it in two, and offered half to the boy, saying, “Just a little magic snack between friends. What do you say?” As he spoke, the magician examined the boy’s whistlebreeches. “These breeches of yours look like real hand-made magic. I ought to know. I’m a bit of an expert in that line, myself!”

  “I don’t know much about magic,” answered Number Nine. “But I can take you to my Boss. She knows a lot. I can’t see how she does it. She is from New Jersey, U.S.A.”

  “Well, well, well! New Jersey, eh? My, my! U.S.A.!” exclaimed the magician. “Not long ago I smelled some trouble coming from New Jersey. I’d like to meet your Boss, and get just such a pair of whistlebreeches as yours-for mornings, you understand. In fact, for such a morning as this. Come along!”

  Off they went, toward the Style Shop. The boy was thankful that his breeches simmered down while they walked, for he noticed that many people bowed low to his new friend.

  Meanwhile, in the Style Shop, Jenny was pacing back and forth. She was dressed in a shining peach colored creation she had designed herself. “That boy! An hour late!” she exclaimed in a huff. She glanced at the moon-faced clock. The clock was friendly to the office boy and always did its best to help him escape Jenny’s temper.

  When Jenny looked away, the clock began pushing its hands backward, until it had gone back to the time when Number Nine was due to arrive each morning.

  Jenny set to work making more display styles to hang on the trees outside. She unrolled a bolt of sunset cloth and ran her fairy finger over it this way and that, watching the material fall apart in the pattern of an evening gown. As she was working, she looked up at the clock and said, “Well, how late is he now?”

  It was an hour earlier than it had been before!

  “What !” exclaimed Jenny to the clock. “Are you trying to cover up that lazy boy’s lateness again? I’ve been put out enough! Now you are going to be Put out!”

  Jenny pointed her finger toward the door.

  “Get down from that wall. Go and run somewhere

  else!”

  The kindly clock slid off the wall and marched out of the door. It stopped long enough for its gong to Sound a loud BONG! Then it crossed the street to the bakery, climbed up a wall there, and hung itself on a friendly nail. It then set its hands to the correct time and continued to tick away as if nothing had happened.

  Into the Style Shop trotted Number Nine, with the magician behind him. Snatching a dust cloth, the boy began to whistle and work, keeping his face turned away from Jenny’s angry eyes. The magician began poking around the shop, examining everything. Jenny looked away from the office boy and watched to see what this little man would do. He was too inquisitive for her liking. “I am busy,” she said snappishly. “If you don’t want any new styles, please don’t take up my time.”

  The magician spun around on his toe. “Ho, ho, what a temper!” he said. “I’ve come for some whistlebreeches.”

  He pointed to Number Nine’s. “Like those.”

  “We’re out of that pattern. It’s last week’s style. We don’t make them any more,” Jenny said crossly.

  “My, my, isn’t that too bad! I guess I’ll have to make a pair for myself!” With this, the mysteious little man slipped past Jenny, made a few magic passes in the air before the turn-style, and walked calmly into it.

  Jenny’s face got redder and redder. She was almost boiling with anger. The boy watched his Boss and edged closer and closer to the door. When the little man came through the turn-style, sure enough, he had on a pair of loud whistlebreeches. But his had improvements. This pair had eight notes instead of four, and cute little shut-off stops like mufflers on each whistle.

  “A later model,” the little man said quietly to Jenny, as he took Number Nine by the arm. “I want to have a talk with your office boy. I’ll send him back in a little while.”

  Saying this, the magician led Number Nine out of the shop and up the street toward the palace. As they walked, the two pairs of whistlebreeches played a harmonious tune. This greatly amused the

  magician.

  “Rather an interesting Boss you have. If her face weren’t so cross, it would be nice looking.”

  “Yes,” said the boy. “And if she were younger, she would think more of playing and less of working.”

  “Do you want her to be your age—about twelve?’ asked the magician.

  Number Nine said eagerly, “Yes, indeed!”

  “Well, I’ll see what can be done about it when I have the time. Leave everything to me! Goodbye.”

  They had reached the grand entrance of the palace. “Goodbye,” said Whistlebreeches, and he turned back toward the Style Shop.

  The little man entered the palace and ran nimbly up the first flight of stairs. Then he stopped, made a few passes in the air, and next moment he was standing in the middle of his own laboratory at the top of the palace.

  “Now, let me see. Jenny has a godfather, and I think he should be summoned at a time like this.”

  Going to a table, the little man laid down his high checkered hat and picked up a piece of paper and a pencil. On the paper he wrote in large letters: SIKO POMPUS

  Then he made more magic passes in the air over the

  paper.

  “Now, I shall call the roll,” he said, and he proceeded to roll up the paper. Holding it to his mouth, he called through it, “Hi, Siko Pompus!”

  “Present!” answered
a voice.

  Standing in the open window was the Leprechaun. his blue eyes danced merrily, and his bushy beard shone red. “Hello, Wizard, I heard ye callin’.”

  He thrust his foot and a hairy hand downward and leaped lightly to the ground. Then he stood, even smaller than a gnome, but quick and good natured.

  “Hello, Siko,” the Wizard greeted him gladly. “I called you because I want to talk to you about Jenny Jump, your godchild.”

  “Oh, shure !” said the Leprechaun in his Irish brogue. “‘Twas her I gave fairy eyes and fingers, and ears and a foot. For she let me have all her pepper-cheese. But I know it’s disgracin’ me she is.” The tiny man shook his head and sighed. “Her temper, now, is a wonder! To tell ye the real truth, she got beyond me control!”

  “How would it be,” asked the Wizard, “if I turned her age back a few years, and made her about eleven?”

  “Go ahead! It’s a good thing to do. Shure, an’

  she’ll lose her fairy gifts, though, for I hadn’t given ‘em to her when she was eleven. She’ll be better off without ‘em. I’ll keep ‘em and give ‘em back to her when she’s afther learnin’ to hold in her temper,” said the Leprechaun.

  “All right, Siko. Now she is too nasty tempered to be even a part-fairy.”

  “Shure, an’ it’s right ye are, Wizard,” said Siko Pompus. “Will that be all you’ll be wantin’ today?”