Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

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by L. Frank Baum


  “He seems a nice boy, now that all the wickedness has gone from him,” said Ozma. “So we will keep him here with us and teach him our ways — to be true and considerate of others.”

  “Why, in that case, it’s lucky for him he drank the Water of Oblivion,” said Dorothy.

  “It is indeed,” agreed the Wizard. “But the remarkable thing, to me, is how such a young boy ever learned the secret of the Magic Word of Transformation. Perhaps his companion, who is at present this walnut, was the real magician, although I seem to remember that it was this boy in the beast’s form who whispered the Magic Word into the hollow tree, where I overheard it.”

  “Well, we will soon know who the other is,” suggested Ozma. “He may prove to be another Munchkin boy.”

  The Wizard placed the walnut near the fountain and said, as slowly and solemnly as before:

  “I want you to resume your natural form, and to be very thirsty — Pyrzqxgl!”

  Then the walnut disappeared and Ruggedo the Nome stood in its place. He also was facing the fountain, and he reached for the cup, filled it, and was about to drink when Dorothy exclaimed:

  “Why, it’s the old Nome King!”

  Ruggedo swung around and faced them, the cup still in his hand.

  “Yes,” he said in an angry voice, “it’s the old Nome King, and I’m going to conquer all Oz and be revenged on you for kicking me out of my throne.” He looked around a moment, and then continued: “There isn’t an egg in sight, and I’m stronger than all of you people put together! I don’t know how I came here, but I’m going to fight the fight of my life — and I’ll win!”

  His long white hair and beard waved in the breeze; his eyes flashed hate and vengeance, and so astonished and shocked were they by the sudden appearance of this old enemy of the Oz people that they could only stare at him in silence and shrink away from his wild glare.

  Ruggedo laughed. He drank the water, threw the cup on the ground and said fiercely:

  “And now — and now — and — ”

  His voice grew gentle. He rubbed his forehead with a puzzled air and stroked his long beard.

  “What was I going to say?” he asked, pleadingly.

  “Don’t you remember?” said the Wizard.

  “No; I’ve forgotten.”

  “Who ARE you?” asked Dorothy.

  He tried to think. “I — I’m sure I don’t know,” he stammered.

  “Don’t you know who WE are, either?” questioned the girl.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Nome.

  “Tell us who this Munchkin boy is,” suggested Ozma.

  Ruggedo looked at the boy and shook his head.

  “He’s a stranger to me. You are all strangers. I — I’m a stranger to myself,” he said.

  Then he patted the Lion’s head and murmured, “Good doggie!” and the Lion growled indignantly.

  “What shall we do with him?” asked the Wizard, perplexed.

  “Once before the wicked old Nome came here to conquer us, and then, as now, he drank of the Water of Oblivion and became harmless. But we sent him back to the Nome Kingdom, where he soon learned the old evil ways again.

  “For that reason,” said Ozma, “we must find a place for him in the Land of Oz, and keep him here. For here he can learn no evil and will always be as innocent of guile as our own people.”

  And so the wandering ex-King of the Nomes found a new home, a peaceful and happy home, where he was quite content and passed his days in innocent enjoyment.

  GLINDA OF OZ

  Glinda of Oz is the fourteenth and final book in L. Frank Baum’s original Oz series, published by Reilly & Lee in 1920, illustrated by John R. Neill. The novel features two journeys, that of Princess Ozma and Dorothy Gale, who set out to avert a war between the Flatheads and the Skeezers, and by Glinda the Good and friends, who must rescue Ozma and Dorothy. As is typical in many of the Oz books, the adventurers encounter a great variety of magical creatures, both benign and dangerous. Among others, in Glinda of Oz, the reader meets gigantic purple spiders and lovely Mist Maidens, as well as the strange and frightening Flatheads, who wear their brains in canisters in their pockets.

  A first edition copy of Glinda of Oz

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  A copy of the 1959 edition

  GLINDA OF OZ

  In which are related the Exciting Experiences of Princess

  Ozma of Oz, and Dorothy, in their hazardous journey

  to the home of the Flatheads, and to the Magic

  Isle of the Skeezers, and how they were

  rescued from dire peril by the sorcery

  of Glinda the Good.

  BY

  L. FRANK BAUM

  “Royal Historian of Oz”

  TO OUR READERS

  Glinda the Good, lovely Sorceress of the Land of Oz and friend of Princess Ozma and Dorothy, has lots of personal acquaintances who want to know more about her. So, in the new Oz story, Mr. L. Frank Baum, Royal Historian of Oz, has written a whole book about how Glinda and the Wizard worked with all their might to save the Princess and Dorothy from the dire dangers which threatened them when they went among the warring tribes of the Flatheads and Skeezers.

  The wicked Queen Coo-ee-oh, a vain and evil witch, was really to blame for all the trouble. She surely succeeded in getting every one on the magic, glass-domed island of the Skeezers into amazing difficulties. When Mr. Baum tells you how worried everybody in the Land of Oz felt about the Princess Ozma and Dorothy and what wonderful sorcery Glinda had to perform to save them, you’ll be thrilled with excitement and admiration. He reveals the most hidden mysteries of magic.

  Mr. Baum did his best to answer all the letters from his small earth-friends before he had to leave them, but he couldn’t answer quite all, for there were very many. In May, nineteen hundred nineteen, he went away to take his stories to the little child-souls who had lived here too long ago to read the Oz stories for themselves.

  We are sorry he could not stay here and we are sad to tell you this is his last complete story. But he left some unfinished notes about the Princess Ozma and Dorothy and the Oz people and we promise that some day we will put them all together like a picture puzzle and give you more stories of the wonderful Land of Oz.

  Cordially, your friends,

  The Publishers.

  CHAPTER 1

  The Call to Duty

  Glinda, the good Sorceress of Oz, sat in the grand court of her palace, surrounded by her maids of honor — a hundred of the most beautiful girls of the Fairyland of Oz. The palace court was built of rare marbles, exquisitely polished. Fountains tinkled musically here and there; the vast colonnade, open to the south, allowed the maidens, as they raised their heads from their embroideries, to gaze upon a vista of rose-hued fields and groves of trees bearing fruits or laden with sweet-scented flowers. At times one of the girls would start a song, the others joining in the chorus, or one would rise and dance, gracefully swaying to the music of a harp played by a companion. And then Glinda smiled, glad to see her maids mixing play with work.

  Presently among the fields an object was seen moving, threading the broad path that led to the castle gate. Some of the girls looked upon this object enviously; the Sorceress merely gave it a glance and nodded her stately head as if pleased, for it meant the coming of her friend and mistress — the only one in all th
e land that Glinda bowed to.

  Then up the path trotted a wooden animal attached to a red wagon, and as the quaint steed halted at the gate there descended from the wagon two young girls, Ozma, Ruler of Oz, and her companion, Princess Dorothy. Both were dressed in simple white muslin gowns, and as they ran up the marble steps of the palace they laughed and chatted as gaily as if they were not the most important persons in the world’s loveliest fairyland.

  The maids of honor had risen and stood with bowed heads to greet the royal Ozma, while Glinda came forward with outstretched arms to greet her guests.

  “We’ve just come on a visit, you know,” said Ozma. “Both Dorothy and I were wondering how we should pass the day when we happened to think we’d not been to your Quadling Country for weeks, so we took the Sawhorse and rode straight here.”

  “And we came so fast,” added Dorothy, “that our hair is blown all fuzzy, for the Sawhorse makes a wind of his own. Usually it’s a day’s journey from the Em’rald City, but I don’t s’pose we were two hours on the way.”

  “You are most welcome,” said Glinda the Sorceress, and led them through the court to her magnificent reception hall. Ozma took the arm of her hostess, but Dorothy lagged behind, kissing some of the maids she knew best, talking with others, and making them all feel that she was their friend. When at last she joined Glinda and Ozma in the reception hall, she found them talking earnestly about the condition of the people, and how to make them more happy and contented — although they were already the happiest and most contented folks in all the world.

  This interested Ozma, of course, but it didn’t interest Dorothy very much, so the little girl ran over to a big table on which was lying open Glinda’s Great Book of Records.

  This Book is one of the greatest treasures in Oz, and the Sorceress prizes it more highly than any of her magical possessions. That is the reason it is firmly attached to the big marble table by means of golden chains, and whenever Glinda leaves home she locks the Great Book together with five jeweled padlocks, and carries the keys safely hidden in her bosom.

  I do not suppose there is any magical thing in any fairyland to compare with the Record Book, on the pages of which are constantly being printed a record of every event that happens in any part of the world, at exactly the moment it happens. And the records are always truthful, although sometimes they do not give as many details as one could wish. But then, lots of things happen, and so the records have to be brief or even Glinda’s Great Book could not hold them all.

  Glinda looked at the records several times each day, and Dorothy, whenever she visited the Sorceress, loved to look in the Book and see what was happening everywhere. Not much was recorded about the Land of Oz, which is usually peaceful and uneventful, but today Dorothy found something which interested her. Indeed, the printed letters were appearing on the page even while she looked.

  “This is funny!” she exclaimed. “Did you know, Ozma, that there were people in your Land of Oz called Skeezers?”

  “Yes,” replied Ozma, coming to her side, “I know that on Professor Wogglebug’s Map of the Land of Oz there is a place marked ‘Skeezer,’ but what the Skeezers are like I do not know. No one I know has ever seen them or heard of them. The Skeezer Country is ‘way at the upper edge of the Gillikin Country, with the sandy, impassable desert on one side and the mountains of Oogaboo on another side. That is a part of the Land of Oz of which I know very little.”

  “I guess no one else knows much about it either, unless it’s the Skeezers themselves,” remarked Dorothy. “But the Book says: ‘The Skeezers of Oz have declared war on the Flatheads of Oz, and there is likely to be fighting and much trouble as the result.’“

  “Is that all the Book says?” asked Ozma.

  “Every word,” said Dorothy, and Ozma and Glinda both looked at the Record and seemed surprised and perplexed.

  “Tell me, Glinda,” said Ozma, “who are the Flatheads?”

  “I cannot, your Majesty,” confessed the Sorceress. “Until now I never have heard of them, nor have I ever heard the Skeezers mentioned. In the faraway corners of Oz are hidden many curious tribes of people, and those who never leave their own countries and never are visited by those from our favored part of Oz, naturally are unknown to me. However, if you so desire, I can learn through my arts of sorcery something of the Skeezers and the Flatheads.”

  “I wish you would,” answered Ozma seriously. “You see, Glinda, if these are Oz people they are my subjects and I cannot allow any wars or troubles in the Land I rule, if I can possibly help it.”

  “Very well, your Majesty,” said the Sorceress, “I will try to get some information to guide you. Please excuse me for a time, while I retire to my Room of Magic and Sorcery.”

  “May I go with you?” asked Dorothy, eagerly.

  “No, Princess,” was the reply. “It would spoil the charm to have anyone present.”

  So Glinda locked herself in her own Room of Magic and Dorothy and Ozma waited patiently for her to come out again.

  In about an hour Glinda appeared, looking grave and thoughtful.

  “Your Majesty,” she said to Ozma, “the Skeezers live on a Magic Isle in a great lake. For that reason — because the Skeezers deal in magic — I can learn little about them.”

  “Why, I didn’t know there was a lake in that part of Oz,” exclaimed Ozma. “The map shows a river running through the Skeezer Country, but no lake.”

  “That is because the person who made the map never had visited that part of the country,” explained the Sorceress. “The lake surely is there, and in the lake is an island — a Magic Isle — and on that island live the people called the Skeezers.”

  “What are they like?” inquired the Ruler of Oz.

  “My magic cannot tell me that,” confessed Glinda, “for the magic of the Skeezers prevents anyone outside of their domain knowing anything about them.”

  “The Flatheads must know, if they’re going to fight the Skeezers,” suggested Dorothy.

  “Perhaps so,” Glinda replied, “but I can get little information concerning the Flatheads, either. They are people who inhabit a mountain just south of the Lake of the Skeezers. The mountain has steep sides and a broad, hollow top, like a basin, and in this basin the Flatheads have their dwellings. They also are magic-workers and usually keep to themselves and allow no one from outside to visit them. I have learned that the Flatheads number about one hundred people — men, women and children — while the Skeezers number just one hundred and one.”

  “What did they quarrel about, and why do they wish to fight one another?” was Ozma’s next question.

  “I cannot tell your Majesty that,” said Glinda.

  “But see here!” cried Dorothy, “it’s against the law for anyone but Glinda and the Wizard to work magic in the Land of Oz, so if these two strange people are magic-makers they are breaking the law and ought to be punished!”

  Ozma smiled upon her little friend.

  “Those who do not know me or my laws,” she said, “cannot be expected to obey my laws. If we know nothing of the Skeezers or the Flatheads, it is likely that they know nothing of us.”

  “But they ought to know, Ozma, and we ought to know. Who’s going to tell them, and how are we going to make them behave?”

  “That,” returned Ozma, “is what I am now considering. What would you advise, Glinda?”

  The Sorceress took a little time to consider this question, before she made reply. Then she said:

  “Had you not learned of the existence of the Flatheads and the Skeezers, through my Book of Records, you would never have worried about them or their quarrels. So, if you pay no attention to these peoples, you may never hear of them again.”

  “But that wouldn’t be right,” declared Ozma. “I am Ruler of all the Land of Oz, which includes the Gillikin Country, the Quadling Country, the Winkie Country and the Munchkin Country, as well as the Emerald City, and being the Princess of this fairyland it is my duty to make all my people �
� wherever they may be — happy and content and to settle their disputes and keep them from quarreling. So, while the Skeezers and Flatheads may not know me or that I am their lawful Ruler, I now know that they inhabit my kingdom and are my subjects, so I would not be doing my duty if I kept away from them and allowed them to fight.”

  “That’s a fact, Ozma,” commented Dorothy. “You’ve got to go up to the Gillikin Country and make these people behave themselves and make up their quarrels. But how are you going to do it?”

  “That is what is puzzling me also, your Majesty,” said the Sorceress. “It may be dangerous for you to go into those strange countries, where the people are possibly fierce and warlike.”

  “I am not afraid,” said Ozma, with a smile.

  “‘Tisn’t a question of being ‘fraid,” argued Dorothy. “Of course we know you’re a fairy, and can’t be killed or hurt, and we know you’ve a lot of magic of your own to help you. But, Ozma dear, in spite of all this you’ve been in trouble before, on account of wicked enemies, and it isn’t right for the Ruler of all Oz to put herself in danger.”

  “Perhaps I shall be in no danger at all,” returned Ozma, with a little laugh. “You mustn’t imagine danger, Dorothy, for one should only imagine nice things, and we do not know that the Skeezers and Flatheads are wicked people or my enemies. Perhaps they would be good and listen to reason.”

  “Dorothy is right, your Majesty,” asserted the Sorceress. “It is true we know nothing of these faraway subjects, except that they intend to fight one another, and have a certain amount of magic power at their command. Such folks do not like to submit to interference and they are more likely to resent your coming among them than to receive you kindly and graciously, as is your due.”

  “If you had an army to take with you,” added Dorothy, “it wouldn’t be so bad; but there isn’t such a thing as an army in all Oz.”

  “I have one soldier,” said Ozma.

 

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