Sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of the beautiful houses and the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds. Even the green marble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a grand and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time.
However, the Pumpkinhead and the Saw-Horse, knowing nothing of wealth and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw through their green spectacles. They calmly followed after the green soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of green people who stared at them in surprise. When a green dog ran out and barked at them the Saw-Horse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg and sent the little animal howling into one of the houses; but nothing more serious than this happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace.
The Pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight into the Scarecrow’s presence; but the soldier would not permit that. So Jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant led the Saw-Horse around to the rear while the Soldier with the Green Whiskers escorted the Pumpkinhead into the palace, by the front entrance.
The stranger was left in a handsomely furnished waiting room while the soldier went to announce him. It so happened that at this hour His Majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of something to do, so he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room.
Jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting the ruler of this magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs. But when he entered the room and saw for the first time His Majesty the Scarecrow seated upon his glittering throne, he stopped short in amazement.
His Majesty the Scarecrow
I suppose every reader of this book knows what a scarecrow is; but Jack Pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at meeting the remarkable King of the Emerald City than by any other one experience of his brief life.
His Majesty the Scarecrow was dressed in a suit of faded blue clothes, and his head was merely a small sack stuffed with straw, upon which eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to represent a face. The clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly or carelessly that his Majesty’s legs and arms seemed more bumpy than was necessary. Upon his hands were gloves with long fingers, and these were padded with cotton. Wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch’s coat and also from his neck and boot-tops. Upon his head he wore a heavy golden crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this crown caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thoughtful expression to the painted face. Indeed, the crown alone betokened majesty; in all else the, Scarecrow King was but a simple scarecrow — flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial.
But if the strange appearance of his Majesty the Scarecrow seemed startling to Jack, no less wonderful was the form of the Pumpkinhead to the Scarecrow. The purple trousers and pink waistcoat and red shirt hung loosely over the wooden joints Tip had manufactured, and the carved face on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer considered life the jolliest thing imaginable.
At first, indeed, His Majesty thought his queer visitor was laughing at him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not without reason that the Scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the wisest personage in the Land of Oz. He made a more careful examination of his visitor, and soon discovered that Jack’s features were carved into a smile and that he could not look grave if he wished to.
The King was the first to speak. After regarding Jack for some minutes he said, in a tone of wonder:
“Where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?”
“I beg your Majesty’s pardon,” returned the Pumpkinhead; “but I do not understand you.”
“What don’t you understand?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Why, I don’t understand your language. You see, I came from the Country of the Gillikins, so that I am a foreigner.”
“Ah, to be sure!” exclaimed the Scarecrow. “I myself speak the language of the Munchkins, which is also the language of the Emerald City. But you, I suppose, speak the language of the Pumpkinheads?”
“Exactly so, your Majesty” replied the other, bowing; “so it will be impossible for us to understand one another.”
“That is unfortunate, certainly,” said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. “We must have an interpreter.”
“What is an interpreter?” asked Jack.
“A person who understands both my language and your own. When I say anything, the interpreter can tell you what I mean; and when you say anything the interpreter can tell me what you mean. For the interpreter can speak both languages as well as understand them.”
“That is certainly clever,” said Jack, greatly pleased at finding so simple a way out of the difficulty.
So the Scarecrow commanded the Soldier with the Green Whiskers to search among his people until he found one who understood the language of the Gillikins as well as the language of the Emerald City, and to bring that person to him at once.
When the Soldier had departed the Scarecrow said:
“Won’t you take a chair while we are waiting?”
“Your Majesty forgets that I cannot understand you,” replied the Pumpkinhead. “If you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to do so.” The Scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair to a position behind the Pumpkinhead. Then he gave Jack a sudden push that sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awkward a fashion that he doubled up like a jackknife, and had hard work to untangle himself.
“Did you understand that sign?” asked His Majesty, politely.
“Perfectly,” declared Jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head to the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that supported it.
“You seem hastily made,” remarked the Scarecrow, watching Jack’s efforts to straighten himself.
“Not more so than your Majesty,” was the frank reply.
“There is this difference between us,” said the Scarecrow, “that whereas I will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend.”
At this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand. She seemed very sweet and modest, having a pretty face and beautiful green eyes and hair. A dainty green silk skirt reached to her knees, showing silk stockings embroidered with pea-pods, and green satin slippers with bunches of lettuce for decorations instead of bows or buckles. Upon her silken waist clover leaves were embroidered, and she wore a jaunty little jacket trimmed with sparkling emeralds of a uniform size.
“Why, it’s little Jellia Jamb!” exclaimed the Scarecrow, as the green maiden bowed her pretty head before him. “Do you understand the language of the Gillikins, my dear?”
“Yes, your Majesty,” she answered, “for I was born in the North Country.”
“Then you shall be our interpreter,” said the Scarecrow, “and explain to this Pumpkinhead all that I say, and also explain to me all that he says. Is this arrangement satisfactory?” he asked, turning toward his guest.
“Very satisfactory indeed,” was the reply.
“Then ask him, to begin with,” resumed the Scarecrow, turning to Jellia, “what brought him to the Emerald City”
But instead of this the girl, who had been staring at Jack, said to him:
“You are certainly a wonderful creature. Who made you?”
“A boy named Tip,” answered Jack.
“What does he say?” inquired the Scarecrow. “My ears must have deceived me. What did he say?”
“He says that your Majesty’s brains seem to have come loose,” replied the girl, demurely.
The Scarecrow moved uneasily upon his throne, and felt of his head with his left hand.
“What a fine thing it is to understand two different languages,” he said, with a perplexed sigh. “Ask him, my dear, if he has any objection to being put in jail for insulting the ruler of the Emerald City.”
“I didn’t insult you!” protested Jack, indignantly.
“Tut — t
ut!” cautioned the Scarecrow “wait, until Jellia translates my speech. What have we got an interpreter for, if you break out in this rash way?”
“All right, I’ll wait,” replied the Pumpkinhead, in a surly tone — although his face smiled as genially as ever. “Translate the speech, young woman.”
“His Majesty inquires if you are hungry,” said Jellia.
“Oh, not at all!” answered Jack, more pleasantly, “for it is impossible for me to eat.”
“It’s the same way with me,” remarked the Scarecrow. “What did he say, Jellia, my dear?”
“He asked if you were aware that one of your eyes is painted larger than the other,” said the girl, mischievously.
“Don’t you believe her, your Majesty,” cried Jack.
“Oh, I don’t,” answered the Scarecrow, calmly. Then, casting a sharp look at the girl, he asked:
“Are you quite certain you understand the languages of both the Gillikins and the Munchkins?”
“Quite certain, your Majesty,” said Jellia Jamb, trying hard not to laugh in the face of royalty.
“Then how is it that I seem to understand them myself?” inquired the Scarecrow.
“Because they are one and the same!” declared the girl, now laughing merrily. “Does not your Majesty know that in all the land of Oz but one language is spoken?”
“Is it indeed so?” cried the Scarecrow, much relieved to hear this; “then I might easily have been my own interpreter!”
“It was all my fault, your Majesty,” said Jack, looking rather foolish, “I thought we must surely speak different languages, since we came from different countries.”
“This should be a warning to you never to think,” returned the Scarecrow, severely. “For unless one can think wisely it is better to remain a dummy — which you most certainly are.”
“I am! — I surely am!” agreed the Pumpkinhead.
“It seems to me,” continued the Scarecrow, more mildly, “that your manufacturer spoiled some good pies to create an indifferent man.”
“I assure your Majesty that I did not ask to be created,” answered Jack.
“Ah! It was the same in my case,” said the King, pleasantly. “And so, as we differ from all ordinary people, let us become friends.”
“With all my heart!” exclaimed Jack.
“What! Have you a heart?” asked the Scarecrow, surprised.
“No; that was only imaginative — I might say, a figure of speech,” said the other.
“Well, your most prominent figure seems to be a figure of wood; so I must beg you to restrain an imagination which, having no brains, you have no right to exercise,” suggested the Scarecrow, warningly.
“To be sure!” said Jack, without in the least comprehending.
His Majesty then dismissed Jellia Jamb and the Soldier with the Green Whiskers, and when they were gone he took his new friend by the arm and led him into the courtyard to play a game of quoits.
Gen. Jinjur’s Army of Revolt
Tip was so anxious to rejoin his man Jack and the Saw-Horse that he walked a full half the distance to the Emerald City without stopping to rest. Then he discovered that he was hungry and the crackers and cheese he had provided for the Journey had all been eaten.
While wondering what he should do in this emergency he came upon a girl sitting by the roadside. She wore a costume that struck the boy as being remarkably brilliant: her silken waist being of emerald green and her skirt of four distinct colors — blue in front, yellow at the left side, red at the back and purple at the right side. Fastening the waist in front were four buttons — the top one blue, the next yellow, a third red and the last purple.
The splendor of this dress was almost barbaric; so Tip was fully justified in staring at the gown for some moments before his eyes were attracted by the pretty face above it. Yes, the face was pretty enough, he decided; but it wore an expression of discontent coupled to a shade of defiance or audacity.
While the boy stared the girl looked upon him calmly. A lunch basket stood beside her, and she held a dainty sandwich in one hand and a hard-boiled egg in the other, eating with an evident appetite that aroused Tip’s sympathy.
He was just about to ask a share of the luncheon when the girl stood up and brushed the crumbs from her lap.
“There!” said she; “it is time for me to go. Carry that basket for me and help yourself to its contents if you are hungry.”
Tip seized the basket eagerly and began to eat, following for a time the strange girl without bothering to ask questions. She walked along before him with swift strides, and there was about her an air of decision and importance that led him to suspect she was some great personage.
Finally, when he had satisfied his hunger, he ran up beside her and tried to keep pace with her swift footsteps — a very difficult feat, for she was much taller than he, and evidently in a hurry.
“Thank you very much for the sandwiches,” said Tip, as he trotted along. “May I ask your name?”
“I am General Jinjur,” was the brief reply.
“Oh!” said the boy surprised. “What sort of a General?”
“I command the Army of Revolt in this war,” answered the General, with unnecessary sharpness.
“Oh!” he again exclaimed. “I didn’t know there was a war.”
“You were not supposed to know it,” she returned, “for we have kept it a secret; and considering that our army is composed entirely of girls,” she added, with some pride, “it is surely a remarkable thing that our Revolt is not yet discovered.”
“It is, indeed,” acknowledged Tip. “But where is your army?”
“About a mile from here,” said General Jinjur. “The forces have assembled from all parts of the Land of Oz, at my express command. For this is the day we are to conquer His Majesty the Scarecrow, and wrest from him the throne. The Army of Revolt only awaits my coming to march upon the Emerald City.”
“Well!” declared Tip, drawing a long breath, “this is certainly a surprising thing! May I ask why you wish to conquer His Majesty the Scarecrow?”
“Because the Emerald City has been ruled by men long enough, for one reason,” said the girl.
“Moreover, the City glitters with beautiful gems, which might far better be used for rings, bracelets and necklaces; and there is enough money in the King’s treasury to buy every girl in our Army a dozen new gowns. So we intend to conquer the City and run the government to suit ourselves.”
Jinjur spoke these words with an eagerness and decision that proved she was in earnest.
“But war is a terrible thing,” said Tip, thoughtfully.
“This war will be pleasant,” replied the girl, cheerfully.
“Many of you will be slain!” continued the boy, in an awed voice.
“Oh, no”, said Jinjur. “What man would oppose a girl, or dare to harm her? And there is not an ugly face in my entire Army.”
Tip laughed.
“Perhaps you are right,” said he. “But the Guardian of the Gate is considered a faithful Guardian, and the King’s Army will not let the City be conquered without a struggle.”
“The Army is old and feeble,” replied General Jinjur, scornfully. “His strength has all been used to grow whiskers, and his wife has such a temper that she has already pulled more than half of them out by the roots. When the Wonderful Wizard reigned the Soldier with the Green Whiskers was a very good Royal Army, for people feared the Wizard. But no one is afraid of the Scarecrow, so his Royal Army don’t count for much in time of war.”
After this conversation they proceeded some distance in silence, and before long reached a large clearing in the forest where fully four hundred young women were assembled. These were laughing and talking together as gaily as if they had gathered for a picnic instead of a war of conquest.
They were divided into four companies, and Tip noticed that all were dressed in costumes similar to that worn by General Jinjur. The only real difference was that while those girls from the Mun
chkin country had the blue strip in front of their skirts, those from the country of the Quadlings had the red strip in front; and those from the country of the Winkies had the yellow strip in front, and the Gillikin girls wore the purple strip in front. All had green waists, representing the Emerald City they intended to conquer, and the top button on each waist indicated by its color which country the wearer came from. The uniforms were Jaunty and becoming, and quite effective when massed together.
Tip thought this strange Army bore no weapons whatever; but in this he was wrong. For each girl had stuck through the knot of her back hair two long, glittering knitting-needles.
General Jinjur immediately mounted the stump of a tree and addressed her army.
“Friends, fellow-citizens, and girls!” she said; “we are about to begin our great Revolt against the men of Oz! We march to conquer the Emerald City — to dethrone the Scarecrow King — to acquire thousands of gorgeous gems — to rifle the royal treasury — and to obtain power over our former oppressors!”
“Hurrah!” said those who had listened; but Tip thought most of the Army was too much engaged in chattering to pay attention to the words of the General.
The command to march was now given, and the girls formed themselves into four bands, or companies, and set off with eager strides toward the Emerald City.
The boy followed after them, carrying several baskets and wraps and packages which various members of the Army of Revolt had placed in his care. It was not long before they came to the green granite walls of the City and halted before the gateway.
The Guardian of the Gate at once came out and looked at them curiously, as if a circus had come to town. He carried a bunch of keys swung round his neck by a golden chain; his hands were thrust carelessly into his pockets, and he seemed to have no idea at all that the City was threatened by rebels. Speaking pleasantly to the girls, he said:
“Good morning, my dears! What can I do for you?”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 16