L. Frank Baum - Oz 40

by Merry Go Round In Oz

  “From kennel-boy to king, in one easy step, Robin mumbled as the populace began a group of round-dances in their honor. “Anyway, Merry, you can’t say I haven’t come up in the world.”

  “But my goodness, Robin, what’ll we do?” Merry whinnied. “I don’t even know how to be a Royal Symbol!”

  “I don’t know how to be a king, either—especially the kind they want, that’s going to take care of them all their lives, and solve all their problems! Why, Merry, not even real kings do that! We’ll just have to convince them, somehow, that they’re wrong about us-but there’s no sense trying now. They’re making too much noise to hear a single word we say.” “Anyway, we’ve already tried, and they won’t believe us!”

  “Oh, they’re bound to when the excitement dies down little. I’m sure they mean well, Merry. They’re awfully nice.”

  “All except that Seer,” Merry muttered, rolling an eye toward Roundelay, who was watching the dancing from the foot

  of the dais, and still rubbing his hands.

  Robin glanced at him too, and nodded. In his opinion Roundelay smiled too much, and there was something curiously sly about his manner-especially when he had mentioned that Shining Circle, whatever it was. But the other Roundheads seemed honest, hard-working people, and they wanted so badly to have a king and be glamorous and interesting that Robin felt a little sorry for them.

  “Tell you what, Merry,” he suggested as the dancing drew to a close. “We might stay for a day or two, just to please them. After that, we can go on to the Emerald City and see Princess Ozma and the Wizard.”

  “All right,” Merry agreed. “I can wait that much longer to be a Real Horse. And I do kind of like this velvet cape,” she confided.

  “Then as soon as everybody goes home, I’ll tackle that Roundelay, and tell him what we’re going to do,” Robin said firmly.

  He had to wait some time before he could carry out this plan, because the moment the floor was cleared of dancers, the kitchen doors burst open and huge trays of steaming food were borne in by blue-liveried servants. To Robin, who had eaten nothing all morning but raspberries and a seed cookie, the banquet was the best part yet of being king. There was round steak, ground-round formed into meat balls with a delicious sauce, and the even

  more delicious National Dish of Roundabout, called Pi. This was a light pastry tart stuffed with prickly pears, and had a flavor unlike anything Robin had ever tasted. He prudently ate two helpings of everything-and three of Pi-since he didn’t know when he would get anything else.

  “Because once we explain that the prophecy didn’t really mean us,” he whispered to Merry, “they might not even want us to stay for dinner.”

  He was wrong. When the citizens departed to their homes and he at last had a chance to tell Roundelay that he couldn’t be king, though he wouldn’t mind staying for a day or two, he was informed that he had no choice in the matter.

  “The prophecy says the ring will bring the king, and the king will bring the Thing, and that you’ll both make Roundabout prosperous forever,” Roundelay declared.

  “Forever?” Robin cried. “But listen here! We’re on our way to the Emerald City to see Princess Ozma! I’ve got to get back to Oregon!”

  “And I’ve got to get changed to a Real Horse!” Merry

  wailed.

  “Besides, your old prophecy doesn’t even mean us! And where does it say anything about making Roundabout prosperous forever?” Robin added suspiciously. “There’s another verse,” Roundelay said, evading his eye. “I’ll bet there’s not! Recite it to us!”

  “Never mind. You’re king of Roundabout and this horse is

  the Royal Thing-I mean Symbol. You came exactly according to the prophecy. And now you’re here, you’ll stay!” Roundelay said stubbornly.

  “Oh, no we won’t! And you can’t make us!” Robin shouted.

  “Can’t I?” inquired Roundelay, beginning to chuckle and back toward the door, his shifty eyes gleaming. “Can’t I, indeed? Just take a look out there, if you don’t believe me!”

  He waved toward the window, and Robin and Merry rushed over to peer out. What they saw was the dangerous glass road, flashing ‘round and ‘round as far as they could see. The bridge which was the only means of exit from the city had been shut like a dresser drawer into some cavity beneath the Sphere, and the wrought iron gates were shut and padlocked.

  “We’ve no need for a bridge, now that we can stay home and be ladies and gentlemen,” came Roundelay’s sly voice “From this moment on, Roundabout’s welfare is up to you. I’ll be back in half an hour to show you around the Round House and to hear your plans for our future prosperity. Good-day, Your Majesty!” He burst into gleeful chuckles, and the great glass door slammed shut.

  Whirling around, Robin and Merry found themselves alone. And, after futilely shaking and pounding on every door in the room, they found that they were royal prisoners, as well.

  Chapter 13

  DOROTHY, Fess, Prince Gules, Fred, the Cowardly Lion, the Unicorn, and the Flittermouse were still stand mg in a puzzled row, staring up at the brass plate that read “HOME”, when they heard childish laughter, and a burst of singing in treble voices. Peering through the iron gates, they saw hundreds of small children, all dressed in crisp, clean, starchy pinafore or short white linen pants, playing merrily on vast green lawns A few taller figures, in full blue skirts and tiny caps with fluttering white ribbons, strolled here and there among them; in the background, a long, white-columned building stood among shade trees. It was such a pretty sight that Dorothy exclaimed aloud in pleasure, the Cowardly Lion began to purr, and even Fred nickered softly and cocked his head in a sentimental manner. “What charming little tots!” Prince Gules said cordially. “What clean ones!” Fess added incredulously. “Fess, dear,” squeaked the Flittermouse, poking his head through the popinjay feather, “what rhymes with beautiful? Can anybody think what rhymes with beautiful?”

  “Dutiful,” the Unicorn said amiably. “I wonder if those little maidens would make me a daisy chain? I believe I’ll ask them to let me in.”

  There was no need to ask. Their voices had attracted the attention of the nearest group of children, who instantly broke off their game and ran with delighted cries to open the gates.

  “Come in! Come in and play!” cried half a dozen shrill little

  voices.

  “Oh, look, a horsey!” shrieked one little girl.

  “Horsey?” snorted Fred, switching from sentimentality to indignation. “See here, Miss-er-Tot, I am a Steed, not a-”

  “And a itty-bitty white donkey!” cried several others.

  “Could they mean me?” the Unicorn gasped.

  “And a big, big pussycat!” shouted a little boy.

  The Cowardly Lion, who had been chuckling under his breath at Fred’s outraged expression, abruptly assumed one of his own. “Pussycat!” he growled. “Take that back, Moppet, or I’ll pussycat you!”

  Oh, hush-they’re only little children!” Dorothy begged. “We’re Good Children,” a little golden-haired girl informed

  her.

  “I’m sure you are,” the Prince said graciously. “Ah-will you be so kind as to show us the way through your charming-ah

  park?”

  “If you’ll play a game with us,” piped the child Fred had called “Miss Tot.”

  “I suppose we could play just one game with them, couldn’t we?” Dorothy said to her companions. Smiling at the children, she added, “What shall we play? Blindman’s Buff? Tag? Ring Around

  the Rosy?”

  “Oh, no!” the children chorused, turning shocked, wide eyes

  upon her. “Those are naughty, rough games!”

  “Ring Around the Rosy is naughty and rough?” the Cowardly Lion said incredulously.

  “Oh, yes! We might get our hands dirty!” exclaimed the boy he had called “Moppet”.

  “Or muss our hair!” several little girls cried in dismay.

  “Or wrinkl
e our pretty, clean clothes!” added the Moppet, carefully smoothing his spotless and absolutely wrinkle-free jacket.

  “My!” said Dorothy, rather dashed. “You certainly are good children, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yes. This is Good Children’s Land,” Miss Tot said primly. She pointed to the white building among the trees. “That’s the Nursery. We live there.”

  “With the Nannies,” added a boy.

  “That’s a Nannie,” offered another, pointing to one of the strolling figures in the white-ribboned caps.

  “And we’re little Ladies and Gent’mun, and always mind our Nannies, and do as we’re bid, and drink up all our milk. And we have lovely porridge for breakfus, and bread-and-jam for lunch,” the Moppet announced.

  “Well! Now we know all about you, don’t we?” Fess said, trying not to laugh.

  “Oh, no!” Miss Tot informed him. “You don’t know what we’re going to have for dinner!”

  Immediately all the children’s faces lighted up, and they began giving little hops and handclaps of delight, shouting, “Parsnips!”

  “Spinach!” “Mashed carrots!” “Bread-pudding!” “Oh, goody, goody!”

  “Ugh,” Fess said frankly, exchanging a revolted look with

  Dorothy.

  The Flittermouse whispered, “At least they didn’t invite us to stay, Fess dear! In fact, let’s go!”

  The Cowardly Lion, who had sat down and closed his eyes in a nauseated way at the sound of the dinner menu, hastily opened them again and got up. “Yes, we must go. I’ve just remembered some urgent business. I-”

  Paying no attention, the children continued their hopping and goodying and hand-clapping. “And then do you know what we get to do?” the Moppet shrieked joyfully.

  “No, but I can see you’re going to tell us,” sighed the Lion, sitting down again.

  “We get to Clean Our Teeth!” “Yes, and Scrub Our Hannies!” (“Hannies!” the Lion groaned, lashing his tail.) “And have our Ears Washed!” “And then it’ll be Bedtime!”

  “Never,” Prince Gules remarked thoughtfully to Fred, as the happy anticipatory little cries of “Bedtime! Oooo, goody! Bedtime!” shrilled around him, “Never have I encountered such insufferable little namby-pambys. Let us continue our journey.”

  “Yes, let’s!” Dorothy said with feeling.

  Since all the travelers were heartily bored with the Good Children, there was an immediate chorus of agreement, and the Flittermouse-who had so far remained unnoticed behind the popinjay feather-fluttered down to his traveling position on Fess’s shoulder. Instantly several children spotted the little creature, and clustered around Fess, making little snatches and shouting, “Oh, look! A mouse! A teeny blue mouse!”

  “A mouse? First a bat, and then a mouse!” Flitter squeaked as he tried to avoid the chubby fingers. “Help! Don’t do that! Oh, dear!” Wildly flapping his wings, he beat off a clutching little hand and hurled himself in the air, where he skittered about a moment in confusion, squeaking, “Oh, dear me,” and finally landed on the highest thing he could find, which happened to be the tip of the Unicorn’s horn. “Do you mind if I sit here, Unicorn dear?” he quavered breathlessly. “If I can hang on, that is?”

  “Not at all,” the Unicorn assured him. “I have every sympathy for you, and I’ll hold my head very still.”

  “Oh, I like you. You’re nice,” Flitter told her tearfully. “Not at all like those beautiful, dutiful, namby-pamby … Oh, my, that’s a little rhyme, isn’t it? They clutch too much,” he then exclaimed, “Oh, My!” and fell silent, almost overcome by own brilliance.

  “Beautiful is as beautiful does,” the Unicorn sniffed as she began to pick her way through the crowd of children.

  This was extremely difficult, as they were still hopping, bing, chattering in their piercing trebles, and getting so successfully underfoot that the travelers could scarcely move. Fess the Prince tried to clear a way through the mass for Fred, who

  hardly dared put a hoof down for fear of treading on a child Dorothy, attempting to do the same for the Cowardly Lion, lifted the Egg-basket high, thus unintentionally-and most unfortunately-revealing the stains and smudges her white dress had acquired in the rabbit-hole. This produced a concerted shriek of horror from the children.

  “Her clothes are dirty!” they gasped to each other, pointing trembling fingers at Dorothy’s skirt. “Oh, look, look! The Big Girl’s clothes are dirty!” For an instant they shrank back in dis-may-for only for an instant.

  “Poor Big Girl! We’ll save her!” the Moppet shouted.

  “Oh, yes! Take her to a Nannie!” the others chorused.

  The next thing the stunned travelers knew, the entire mob of tots had rushed at Dorothy, knocked the Egg-basket from her hands in a shower of peanut-butter-and-crackers, and were hurrying her off across the lawns toward the nearest Nannie, still uttering loud, shocked noises of concern and sympathy.

  “G-reat golliwogs!” the Cowardly Lion stuttered. “Come on!”

  Fess snatched up the Egg-basket, and the entire party pelted across the grass in pursuit, but the Nannie, after one horrified glance at Dorothy, seized her wrist and rushed her into the great colonnaded Nursery building, slamming the door in the faces of her breathless and consternated companions.

  Prince Gules tried the door at once, and found it locked fast.

  “They can’t do this!” Fred neighed hysterically. “Don’t they

  know who we are? Don’t they realize-”

  “Oh, hush, Federigo,” Fess begged. “Don’t stand there whinnying about your dignity, try to kick that door down!”

  “I?” Fred stared, dumbfounded. “I, a Steed of Halidom, so forget my education and my manners as to kick?”

  “Then stand aside, or I’ll forget mine and have horsemeat for dinner,” snarled the Cowardly Lion, preparing to hurl himself at the door.

  “Wait-perhaps I can break the lock with my horn,” the Unicorn put in.

  At that moment they heard the rattle of a window sash, and a faint hail from somewhere above and to their left. Dashing around the corner of the building, they saw Dorothy’s distressed face framed in a second story window.

  “Here I am,” she called, “and don’t be worried, because I’m perfectly all right, only I’m locked in this play room, and I can’t get out!”

  “For heavens sakes, jump! I’ll catch you!” the Cowardly Lion promised recklessly.

  “I can’t-they’ve taken my dress away to wash! What’s more, that Nannie is coming in a minute to give me a shampoo and a bath whether I want it or not! It’s perfec’ly infuriating!”

  “Isn’t there any way we can get your dress?” Fess asked

  anxiously.

  “Not that I know of, and I think you’d all better run before any more of those bossy Nannies show up. You’re none too clean

  yourselves, you know, after falling off that fire-escape and getting hot chocolate spilled down your neck in the woods, and-Oh, hurry! Here they come!”

  Looking hastily in the direction she was pointing, they saw a whole new crowd of children running and skipping toward the Nursery, herded along by a dozen Nannies.

  “Hurry, nothing! We’re not going to run away and leave you here to face those parsnips and mashed carrots!” Fess said indignantly.

  “Perish the thought!” the Lion said with a shudder. “Come on, jump! Never mind your dress!”

  “Mightn’t you climb down those vines?” Prince Gules suggested vaguely, squinting at a very small creeper clinging to the side of the building.

  “Or just fly?” the Flittermouse coaxed. “Just this once? It’s easy, truly it is, Dorothy dear! See me?” He fluttered about acrobatically to show how easy it was, but Dorothy only wrung her hands and begged them all to run.

  “I’ll get away somehow, and find you outside the fence, I promise, but-Oh, please hurry, they’re almost here!”

  “Here, hold this, Your Highness!” Fess thrust the Egg-basket into the Prince’s hands an
d dashed toward the vine. Whether he would have succeeded in climbing up it or not he never knew, for at that moment the Nannies and children arrived, and the whole party was not only surrounded, but nearly deafened.

  “Naptime! Naptime! Naptime!” the shrill little voices chanted.

  “Come along, now, come along now, time to take your nice naps,” the Nannies cried briskly.

  Struggle as they might, the travelers found themselves swept irresistibly back toward the front door of the building. It did no good at all to protest that they must go on, that they were engaged in an important Quest, that Dorothy must be released immediately, if not sooner. Both Nannies and children were merely shocked, and announced disapprovingly that they could not possibly go now! It was Naptime!

  At this the Cowardly Lion lost his temper completely. Snarling, “It’s not my naptime!” he stopped in his tracks, opened his mouth, and roared deafeningly.

  The effect was devastating. Nannies and children screeched, flung up their hands and scattered in every direction; the Unicorn backed full tilt into a tree: the Flittermouse dived headfirst into the Egg-basket; and Fred sat down. Indeed, the travelers were almost as startled as the Nannies and children-even the Cowardly Lion had to lean against a column for a moment with his ears flattened and his legs trembling panting as the echoes died away.