For her Prime Minister the Queen selected Ervic, for the three Adepts had told of his good judgment, faithfulness and cleverness, and all the Skeezers approved the appointment.
Glinda, the Wizard and the Adepts stood on the bridge and recited an incantation that quite filled the lake with water again, and the Scarecrow and the Patchwork Girl climbed to the top of the Great Dome and replaced the pane of glass that had been removed to allow Glinda and her followers to enter.
When evening came Ozma ordered a great feast prepared, to which every Skeezer was invited. The village was beautifully decorated and brilliantly lighted and there was music and dancing until a late hour to celebrate the liberation of the people. For the Skeezers had been freed, not only from the water of the lake but from the cruelty of their former Queen.
As the people from the Emerald City prepared the next morning to depart Queen Aurex said to Ozma:
“There is only one thing I now fear for my people, and that is the enmity of the terrible Su-dic of the Flatheads. He is liable to come here at any time and try to annoy us, and my Skeezers are peaceful folks and unable to fight the wild and wilful Flatheads.”
“Do not worry,” returned Ozma, reassuringly. “We intend to stop on our way at the Flatheads’ Enchanted Mountain and punish the Su-dic for his misdeeds.”
That satisfied Aurex and when Ozma and her followers trooped over the bridge to the shore, having taken leave of their friends, all the Skeezers cheered them and waved their hats and handkerchiefs, and the band played and the departure was indeed a ceremony long to be remembered.
The three Adepts at Magic, who had formerly ruled the Flatheads wisely and considerately, went with Princess Ozma and her people, for they had promised Ozma to stay on the mountain and again see that the laws were enforced.
Glinda had been told all about the curious Flatheads and she had consulted with the Wizard and formed a plan to render them more intelligent and agreeable.
When the party reached the mountain Ozma and Dorothy showed them how to pass around the invisible wall — which had been built by the Flatheads after the Adepts were transformed — and how to gain the up-and-down stairway that led to the mountain top.
The Su-dic had watched the approach of the party from the edge of the mountain and was frightened when he saw that the three Adepts had recovered their natural forms and were coming back to their former home. He realized that his power would soon be gone and yet he determined to fight to the last. He called all the Flatheads together and armed them, and told them to arrest all who came up the stairway and hurl them over the edge of the mountain to the plain below. But although they feared the Supreme Dictator, who had threatened to punish them if they did not obey his commands, as soon as they saw the three Adepts they threw down their arms and begged their former rulers to protect them.
The three Adepts assured the excited Flatheads that they had nothing to fear.
Seeing that his people had rebelled the Su-dic ran away and tried to hide, but the Adepts found him and had him cast into a prison, all his cans of brains being taken away from him.
After this easy conquest of the Su-dic, Glinda told the Adepts of her plan, which had already been approved by Ozma of Oz, and they joyfully agreed to it. So, during the next few days, the great Sorceress transformed, in a way, every Flathead on the mountain.
Taking them one at a time, she had the can of brains that belonged to each one opened and the contents spread on the flat head, after which, by means of her arts of sorcery, she caused the head to grow over the brains — in the manner most people wear them — and they were thus rendered as intelligent and good looking as any of the other inhabitants of the Land of Oz.
When all had been treated in this manner there were no more Flatheads at all, and the Adepts decided to name their people Mountaineers. One good result of Glinda’s sorcery was that no one could now be deprived of the brains that belonged to him and each person had exactly the share he was entitled to.
Even the Su-dic was given his portion of brains and his flat head made round, like the others, but he was deprived of all power to work further mischief, and with the Adepts constantly watching him he would be forced to become obedient and humble.
The Golden Pig, which ran grunting about the streets, with no brains at all, was disenchanted by Glinda, and in her woman’s form was given brains and a round head. This wife of the Su-dic had once been even more wicked than her evil husband, but she had now forgotten all her wickedness and was likely to be a good woman thereafter.
These things being accomplished in a satisfactory manner, Princess Ozma and her people bade farewell to the three Adepts and departed for the Emerald City, well pleased with their interesting adventures.
They returned by the road over which Ozma and Dorothy had come, stopping to get the Sawhorse and the Red Wagon where they had left them.
“I’m very glad I went to see these peoples,” said Princess Ozma, “for I not only prevented any further warfare between them, but they have been freed from the rule of the Su-dic and Coo-ee-oh and are now happy and loyal subjects of the Land of Oz. Which proves that it is always wise to do one’s duty, however unpleasant that duty may seem to be.”
THE ROYAL BOOK OF OZ by Ruth Plumly Thompson
After L. Frank Baum’s death in 1919, there were two extant manuscripts on hand, published over the next two years. Since sales had mushroomed in recent years, Baum’s publisher, Reilly & Lee, decided to continue the series. They published their first effort, The Royal Book of Oz, under Baum’s name, but he had nothing to do with it. Ruth Plumly Thompson was the author. She would go on to write twenty more Oz books. The Royal Book of Oz appeared in 1921, illustrated by John R. Neill, who had done the artwork for most of Baum’s Oz books. The Scarecrow, saddened by Professor Woggle-Bug’s comment that he has no family, travels to his old cornfield, in search of his “roots.” Dorothy Gale and the Cowardly Lion go looking for him and meet such newly introduced characters as the knight, Sir Hokus, the Comfortable Camel, and the Doubtful Dromedary. The Scarecrow makes a startling discovery about his past and makes a momentous decision about his future.
A copy of the first edition of ‘The Royal Book 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
Ruth Plumly Thompson, circa 1972, with some of the Oz books she authored
A map of Oz from 1920, given away by publishers Reilly & Lee
THE ROYAL BOOK OF OZ
In which the Scarecrow goes to search for his family tree and
discovers that he is the Long Lost Emperor of the
Silver Island, and how he was rescued and
brought back to Oz by Dorothy
and the Cowardly Lion
Dear Children:
You will remember that, in the front part of Glinda of Oz, the Publishers told you that when Mr. Baum went away from this world he left behind some unfinished notes about the Princess Ozma and Dorothy and the jolly people of the Wonderful Land of Oz. The Publishers promised that they would try to put these notes together into a new Oz book for you.
Well, here it is — The Royal Book of Oz.
I am sure that Mr. Baum would be pleased that Ruth Plumly Thompson, who has known and loved the Oz Stories ever since she was a little girl, has made this new Oz story, with all the Oz folks in it and true to life.
You see I am Mrs. Baum, the wife of the Ro
yal Historian of Oz, and so I know how he feels about everything.
Now, about the story:
Of course, we all knew the Scarecrow was a very fine fellow, but surely we never guessed he ascended from an emperor. Most of us descend from our ancestors, but the Scarecrow really ASCENDED.
The Scarecrow had a most exciting and adventurous time on the Silver Isle and Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion just ran out of one adventure into another trying to rescue him. They made some charming new friends in their travels — Sir Hokus of Pokes, the Doubtful Dromedary, and the Comfortable Camel. You’ll find them very unusual and likable. They have the same peculiar, delightful and informal natures that we love in all the queer Oz people.
Of course every one of us is happy that John R. Neill has drawn the funny and lovely pictures for the new book. Mr. Neill surely is the Royal Painter of Oz.
This note is intended for all the children of America, who knew and loved Mr. Baum, and it goes to each of you with his love and mine.
MAUD G. BAUM.
OZCOT
HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA
IN THE SPRING, 1921
CHAPTER 1
PROFESSOR WOGGLEBUG’S GREAT IDEA
“The very thing!” exclaimed Professor Wogglebug, bounding into the air and upsetting his gold inkwell. “The very next idea!”
“Who — me?” A round-faced little Munchkin boy stuck his head in the door and regarded Professor Wogglebug solemnly. He was working his way through the Professor’s Athletic college, and one of his duties was to wait upon this eminent educator of Oz.
“Certainly not!” snapped Professor Wogglebug. “You’re a nobody or a nothing. Stop gaping and fetch me my hat. I’m off to the Emerald City. And mind the pupils take their history pills regularly while I’m gone,” he added, clapping his tall hat Zif held out to him on the back of his head.
“Yes, sir!” said the little Munchkin respectfully.
“Don’t hurry back, sir!” This last remark the Professor did not hear, for he was already half way down the college steps.
“Ozma will be delighted with the idea. How clever I am!” he murmured, twirling his antennae and walking rapidly down the pleasant blue lane.
The Professor, whose College of Art and Athletic Perfection is in the southwestern part of the Munchkin country, is the biggest bug in Oz, or in anyplace else, for that matter. He has made education painless by substituting school pills for books. His students take Latin, history and spelling pills; they swallow knowledge of every kind with ease and pleasure and spend the rest of their time in sport. No wonder he is so well thought of in Oz! No wonder he thinks so well of himself!
Swinging his cane jauntily, the Professor hurried toward the yellow brick road that leads to the Emerald City, and by nightfall had reached the lovely capital of Oz.
Oz! — that marvelous country where no one grows old — where animals and birds talk as sensibly as people, and adventures happen every day. Indeed, of all fairylands in the world, Oz is the most delightful, and of all fairy cities, the Emerald City is the most beautiful. A soft green light shone for miles about, and the gemmed turrets and spires of the palace flashed more brightly than the stars. But its loveliness was familiar to Professor Wogglebug, and without a pause he proceeded to Ozma’s palace and was at once admitted to the great hall.
A roar of merriment greeted his ears. Ozma, the lovely girl ruler of Oz, was having a party, and the room was full of most surprising people — surprising to some, that is, but old friends to most of us.
Jack, holding tightly to his pumpkin head, was running as fast as his wooden feet and wobbly legs would take him from Dorothy. A game of blind-man’s-buff was in full swing, and Scraps and Tik-Tok, the Scarecrow and Nick Chopper, the Glass Cat and the Cowardly Lion, the Wizard of Oz and the wooden Sawhorse, Cap’n Bill and Betsy Bobbin, Billina and the Hungry Tiger were tumbling over each other in an effort to keep away from the blindfolded little girl.
But Dorothy was too quick for them. With a sudden whirl, she spun ‘round and grasped a coatsleeve.
“The Scarecrow!” she laughed triumphantly. “I can tell by the way he skwoshes — and now he’s it!”
“I’m always it!” chuckled the droll person. “But — hah! Behold the learned Professor standing so aloofly in our midst.”
No one had noticed Professor Wogglebug, who had been quietly watching the game.
“I don’t like to interrupt the party,” he began, approaching Ozma’s throne apologetically, “but I’ve just had a most brilliant idea!”
“What? Another?” murmured the Scarecrow, rolling up his eyes.
“Where did you lose it?” asked Jack Pumpkinhead, edging forward anxiously.
“Lose it! Who said I’d lost it?” snapped the Professor, glaring at poor Jack.
“Well, you said you’d had it, and had is the past tense, so — ” Jack’s voice trailed off uncertainly, and Ozma, seeing he was embarrassed, begged the Professor to explain.
“Your Highness!” began Professor Wogglebug, while the company settled down in a resigned circle on the floor, “As Oz is the most interesting and delightful country on the Continent of Imagination and its people the most unusual and talented, I am about to compile a Royal Book which will give the names and history of all our people. In other words, I am to be the Great, Grand Genealogist of Oz!”
“Whatever that is,” the Scarecrow whispered in Dorothy’s ear.
“And,” the Professor frowned severely on the Scarecrow, “with your Majesty’s permission, I shall start at once!”
“Please do,” said the Scarecrow with a wave toward the door, “and we will go on with the party!”
Scraps, the Patchwork Girl, who had been staring fixedly at the Professor with her silver suspender-button eyes, now sprang to her feet:
“What is a genealogist?
It’s something no one here has missed;
What puts such notions in your head?
Turn out your toes — or go to bed!”
she shouted gaily, then, catching Ozma’s disapproving glance, fell over backwards.
“I don’t understand it at all,” said Jack Pumpkinhead in a depressed voice. “I’m afraid my head’s too ripe.”
“Nor I,” said Tik-Tok, the copper clockwork man. “Please wind me up a lit-tle tight-er Dor-o-thy, I want to think!”
Dorothy obligingly took a key suspended from a hook on his back and wound him up under his left arm. Everybody began to talk at once, and what with the Cowardly Lion’s deep growl and Tik-Tok’s squeaky voice and all the rest of the tin and meat and wooden voices, the confusion was terrible.
“Wait!” cried Ozma, clapping her hands.
Immediately the room grew so still that one could hear Tik-Tok’s machinery whirring ‘round.
“Now!” said Ozma, “One at a time, please, and let us hear from the Scarecrow first.”
The Scarecrow rose. “I think, your Highness,” he said modestly, “that anyone who has studied his Geozify already knows who we are and — ”
“Who you are?” broke in the Wogglebug scornfully — ”Of course they do — but I shall tell them who you were!”
“Who I were?” gasped the Scarecrow in a dazed voice, raising his cotton glove to his forehead. “Who I were? Well, who were I?”
“That’s just the point,” said Professor Wogglebug. “Who were you? Who were your ancestors? Where is your family? Where is your family tree? From what did you descend?”
At each question, the Scarecrow looked more embarrassed. He repeated the last one several times.
“From what did I descend? From what did I descend? Why, from a bean pole!” he cried.
This was perfectly true, for Dorothy, a little girl blown by a Kansas cyclone to the Kingdom of Oz, had discovered the Scarecrow in a farmer’s cornfield and had lifted him down from his pole. Together they had made the journey to the Emerald City, where the Wizard of Oz had fitted him out with a fine set of brains. At one time, he had ruled Oz and was genera
lly considered its cleverest citizen.
Before he could reply further, the Patchwork Girl, who was simply irrepressible, burst out:
“An ex-straw-ordinary man is he!
A bean pole for his family tree,
A Cornishman, upon my soul,
Descended from a tall, thin Pole!”
“Nonsense!” said Professor Wogglebug sharply, “Being stuffed with straw may make him extraordinary, but it is quite plain that the Scarecrow was nobody before he was himself. He has no ancestors, no family; only a bean pole for a family tree, and is therefore entitled to the merest mention in the Royal Book of Oz!”
“How about my brains?” asked the Scarecrow in a hurt voice. “Aren’t they enough?”
“Brains have simply nothing to do with royalty!” Professor Wogglebug waved his fountain pen firmly. “Now — ”
“But see here, wasn’t I ruler of Oz?” put in the Scarecrow anxiously.
“A Ruler but never a royalty!” snapped out the Professor. “Now, if you will all answer my questions as I call your names, I’ll get the necessary data and be off.”
He took out a small memorandum book.
“Your Highness,” he bowed to Ozma, “need not bother. I have already entered your name at the head of the list. Being descended as you are from a long line of fairies, your family tree is the oldest and most illustrious in Oz.”
“Princess Dorothy!”
At the sound of her name, the little girl stood up.
“I know you are from Kansas and were created a Princess of Oz by our gracious Ruler, but can you tell me anything of your ancestors in America?” demanded the Professor, staring over the top of his thick glasses.
“You’ll have to ask Uncle Henry and Aunt Em,” said Dorothy rather sulkily. The Professor had hurt the feelings of her best friend, the Scarecrow, and ancestors did not interest her one little bit.
“Very well,” said the Professor, writing industriously in his book. “I’ll just enter you as ‘Dorothy, Princess of Oz and sixth cousin to a President!’“
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 199