Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

“If you’ll send to the boat for our basket, I think we will prefer to eat the things we brought with us,” declared Dot.

  “Certainly!” answered the Prince, and immediately sticking his head through the trapdoor, he asked a Clown who stood outside to fetch the basket.

  It came in a remarkably short time, and then Flippityflop assisted Dot to lay the cloth on the blue and silver table, while the children proceeded to eat of the sandwiches, cake and apple-tarts that remained in the basket.

  “Wouldn’t you like something to drink?” asked the Prince.

  “I am rather thirsty,” admitted Dot; “have you any milk?”

  “No, we do not use milk in this Valley,” he answered. “But we have some excellent green paint, or, if you prefer it, I can give a bottle of red mucilage.”

  “No, thank you,” said Dot; “we couldn’t drink those. Perhaps you will bring us some fresh water from the river.”

  “But the water is quite wet,” exclaimed the Clown, “and is liable to make you damp. Surely you won’t think of drinking it!”

  “Oh, yes; we’re accustomed to drinking water,” said the girl.

  So the water was sent for, and Dot and Tot took long and refreshing drinks, although their action alarmed Flippityflop, who urged them to eat a few handfuls of sawdust afterward to absorb the dampness.

  “Do all the Clowns live in this Valley?” asked the girl, when the table was cleared.

  “Yes, all except those we send into the world to amuse the children,” answered Flippityflop. “You see, we train them all very carefully, and every year one is selected to go into the world.”

  “How do they get there?” asked the child.

  “At the upper edge of our Valley there is one place not so steep as the rest. The Clown who is leaving us climbs to this place and finds himself on the top of a mountain. So he makes himself into a ball, as he has been taught to do, and rolls down the mountain into the outside world, where he travels around until he finds a circus to join.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Dot. “I’ve seen ‘em — in circuses.”

  “To be sure; that’s the proper place for Clowns. Do they make the children laugh?”

  “Sometimes,” said the girl.

  “When they do not,” said Flippityflop, gravely, “they are imitation Clowns, and were never trained in this Valley of Merryland. The real Clowns are sure to make you laugh. But come, it is time our people were gathering on the platforms for their evening practice. Would you like to watch them?”

  “Yes, indeed!” cried Dot, joyfully; and Tot clapped his hands and echoed: “‘Deed, yes!”

  So Flippityflop lifted them through the hole to the top of the padded platform, where they saw a strange and merry sight.

  All the platforms on both sides of the street were now occupied by Clowns, who were performing in a most marvelous manner. The trees were full of electric lights, which shed brilliant rays over the scene and enabled the children to see everything distinctly.

  “Come with me,” said their friend, “and I will lead you through the street, that you may see what my brothers are doing.”

  They left the Prince’s platform and came to the next, where three gaily dressed Clowns were bounding into the air and whirling around before they came down again. Every time they jumped they cried: “All right, Mr. Johnson!” in their shrill voices, and often one of them would fall on his head or back instead of landing on his feet. When this happened they were not hurt, for the platform was soft and yielding; so they sprang up at once and tried it over again, laughing at their own mishaps.

  At the next platform were some juggling Clowns. One of these placed a light ladder on his shoulders, and another ran up it and stood upon his head on the top rung.

  In another place the Clowns threw small silver balls into the air, one after the other, and then caught them cleverly as they came down.

  Near the end of the street a Clown, dressed in a costume of scarlet with green spots upon it, and wearing a white, pointed cap upon his head, was singing a comic song. They stopped to listen while he sang as follows:

  A goat to a barber went one day;

  “Just trim my beard,” the goat did say,

  “And cut my hair in a stylish way” —

  Sing shivvy, shovvy, shavey!

  The barber then began to snip,

  But soon he let the scissors slip,

  And cut the goat upon his lip —

  Sing shivvy, shovvy, shavey!

  Then Mr. Goat, with angry bleat,

  Gave one big jump from out his seat,

  And knocked the barber off his feet —

  Sing shivvy, shovvy, shavey!

  “Enough!” he cried, “I’ll have you know,

  If barbers treat their patrons so,

  I’ll just allow my beard to grow!”

  Sing shivvy, shovvy, shavey!

  After each verse another Clown cracked a long whip at the singer, which made him leap into the air and screw his face up in such a comical way that Dot and Tot were greatly amused, and applauded him rapturously.

  Just across the street was another singing Clown; but this one was dressed in a curious costume that was all white on one side of his body and all red on the other side. This fellow balanced the point of his cap upon the end of his nose, and then, making a bow, sang the following song:

  Little Tommy Harris

  Made a trip to Paris.

  There he went within a tent,

  Saw a convex firmament;

  Then he peered within a booth,

  Saw a shark without a tooth,

  Heard a dumb man sing and chant,

  Saw a crimson elephant.

  Next he walked into a street,

  Saw a lamp-post drink and eat,

  Heard a turtle loudly roar,

  Saw a rainbow through a door.

  Then a man without a leg

  Danced upon a horse’s egg.

  Then a steeple on a dome

  Cried, “My boy, you’d best go home.”

  But as Tommy homeward sped,

  He awoke — and was in bed!

  Little Tommy Harris

  Never went to Paris!

  This singer had so droll an expression on his face that Tot yelled with rapture, and Dot found herself laughing heartily. Indeed, the whole performance was a delight to the children, and they were sorry when a bell rang and put a stop to the antics of the Clowns.

  At once the they all dived into the trapdoors of their platforms, and Flippityflop said they had gone to bed and would not appear until the next morning.

  The children were somewhat tired by the adventures of the day, so when Flippityflop helped them to gain the room under his platform, they crept to the soft-cushioned benches that lined the walls and lay down. In less than a minute Dot and Tot were fast asleep, curled up side by side, with their arms entwined.

  Next morning they were awakened by the strains of sweet music. Dot at once sat up and asked, “What is that?”

  “That is my alarm clock,” answered Flippityflop, who had been reclining upon a bench at the other side of the room. “It tells me when it is time to get up.”

  “It’s a queer alarm clock,” said the girl.

  “But a very good one,” returned the Clown. “It is really a big music-box under the bench, which starts playing every morning at seven o’clock. So, instead of being awakened by a rattling and clanging of bells, such as most alarm clocks make, I open my eyes with a sensation of pleasure, and get up feeling jolly and content.

  “I think it’s a lovely clock,” said Tot.

  “Won’t you join me at breakfast?” asked the prince. “I’m going to have a dish of scrambled egg-shells and a few fried buttons. The eggshells make our complexion white and chalky, and we are very fond of them.”

  “I prefer to eat something from our basket,” replied the girl. “But Tot may eat the egg-shells and buttons, if he wants them.”

  “Don’t want ‘em!” cried Tot. “Want bread and butter.”


  “Well, I declare!” said the Clown. “What peculiar tastes you children have!”

  But he allowed them to breakfast from their own stock of food, and when the meal was finished Dot said, “We must be going now; but first I wish to thank you for the pleasant time we have had in your Valley. We enjoyed the Clowns very much indeed.”

  “Nice Clowns,” declared Tot, with emphasis.

  “I’m sorry to have you go,” said Flippityflop, “but I suppose you cannot stay here always, especially as you are going to visit our Queen.”

  Then he carried the big basket down to the boat for them, and all the Clowns came to the river bank in a long procession, to bid them good-bye.

  After they were seated in the boat and had begun to float out into the river again, the Clowns started singing a comic song, in one big chorus, as a farewell entertainment.

  Dot and Tot laughed and waved their handkerchiefs at the jolly fellows until the archway leading into the next Valley was reached, and as the shadow of the rocks fell upon them and shut out their view of the First Valley of Merryland, they sighed and turned wonderingly to face whatever adventures might lie before them.

  VIII. — The Second Valley

  Gliding out of the archway into the Second Valley of Merryland, our little voyagers saw before them a big enclosure shaped like a diamond. Along two sides of this diamond the river ran very slowly, and upon the bank at their left rose a huge, straight wall of solid rock, that seemed, as they looked up, to reach to the clouds.

  Upon the bank at their right hand, however, was a broad, flat country, which seemed at first sight to resemble any other beautiful valley, having trees and meadow, roads and fences, and a few pretty houses clustered near the river bank.

  But on looking closer, Dot and Tot saw that all the trees had smooth trunks, with bright colors twisted around them like sticks of candy. The branches, though smaller than the trunks, had the same stick-candy appearance; while the leaves, which were of various colors, looked soft and thick, as if they were made of candy, too.

  The houses were many-colored, being pink and brown and white and lavender, and the walls of all of them were as smooth as taffy. One big house, that was built exactly at the bend in the river, seemed to Dot to be made entirely of molasses candy, for it had the same color and appearance.

  The trees and houses and fences were all smaller than one usually sees, but the brilliant colors made them look very pretty indeed.

  The boat floated slowly toward the bend in the stream, and finally came close to the bank in front of the big molasses-candy house, where it stopped. Dot stepped out upon the bank and fastened the boat, and then Tot jumped out beside her. There was a little path, brown in color and rather rough, that led past the house and down to the river where they stood, and as Tot jumped upon this path he stubbed his toe and fell down. Then Dot saw him pick up a piece of the brown path that had become loosened, and after looking at it a moment put it into his mouth.

  “Don’t do that, Tot!” called the girl, in horror. “You mustn’t eat mud.”

  “T’ain’t mud,” said Tot, with his mouth full. “It’s fudge.”

  “Fudge!” echoed Dot. “You must be crazy, Tot.” But she tasted a small piece herself and found that Tot was right. It was very nice fudge, too.

  Just then as Dot was looking curiously toward the house, she saw the door open and a little man come out, followed the next moment by a little woman. They were not only very little, but short and very fat. The man wore a tall hat, a swallow-tail coat and tight breeches; but all his garments seemed fastened to him in some way, as if they were not made to come off, and their bright colors looked to have been painted on. The woman’s dress had the same appearance, and the big Shaker bonnet she wore seemed really a part of her head.

  When these people saw Dot and Tot, they stopped short and looked at each other in surprise; but the man seemed soon to recover himself and walked quickly toward the children, swinging a candy cane in his hand as he came.

  “Good morning, my dears,” he said, pleasantly.

  “Good morning,” answered Dot.

  “Mornin’,” said Tot.

  “Will you kindly tell us how you came here?” continued the fat little man. “You must excuse my curiosity, but I cannot remember ever having seen any real children before.”

  “Our boat brought us,” said Dot. “We’re drifting down the river and have to go wherever it takes us.”

  “Oh, I see,” said the man. “Well, since you are here, permit me to welcome you to the Valley of Bonbons,” and he reached out his hand, with a graceful bow, to the little girl.

  Dot shook hands with him, of course; but it made her shiver a little, the hand felt so soft and flabby; and when she withdrew her own hand she noticed upon it a fine white powder like flour. This she brushed off, but the little man laughed and said. “It’s only powdered sugar, my dear. I’m obliged to keep myself covered with it, you know, so I won’t stick to things.”

  “But — but I don’t understand,” stammered the girl. “Aren’t you made like other people?”

  “Certainly; I am made like everyone I have ever seen until I met you and this little boy. It strikes me you are the ones who are queerly made. You don’t seem to be candy at all.”

  “Oh no!” said Dot, in a matter-of-fact way. “We’re just flesh and blood and bones.”

  “And clothes,” added Tot, who was looking with greedy eyes at the strange little man.

  “Well, well!” said the man, thoughtfully tapping the ground with his cane; “what strange creatures you must be. In this Valley everyone is made of candy.”

  “And everything else is candy,” exclaimed the little woman, who was peering over the man’s shoulder and had not spoken before.

  “Oh yes; everything we know of is candy except the river,” continued the man.

  “Are you candy?” asked Tot, with wide open eyes.

  “To be sure. My bones are all made of stick candy and my flesh is marshmallow. That is why I must keep myself covered with powdered sugar; otherwise I would melt or stick to everything I touched. My wife is made in the same way, and we are very proud to know we are very pure and wholesome.”

  “What do you eat?” asked Tot, curiously.

  “We eat candy, of course; that is what makes us so fat. Candy is very fattening, you know,” said the little man cheerfully.

  “But you haven’t any teeth,” remarked Dot, who had noticed this fact.

  “Teeth! Certainly not. No one can eat much candy and still have teeth. Haven’t you heard that candy always destroys a person’s teeth?”

  “I’ve been told so,” replied Dot.

  “But we get along very nicely without them. Indeed, our lives are decidedly sweet and peaceful.”

  Just then they heard a shrill scream, and at once the woman rushed toward the house, running in a very comical manner because she was so short and fat.

  “That’s the voice of our youngest child, the baby,” explained the man. “I fear some accident has happened to it. One of our greatest troubles is that we cannot depend upon our colored servants, who are chocolate. Chocolates can seldom be depended on, you know.”

  “I hope nothing serious has happened to your baby,” said Dot, with ready sympathy.

  “Probably not,” answered the candy man. “But I hope you will now permit me to escort you to my house. You must be hungry; and I will have luncheon served at once.”

  “Thank you,” said Dot.

  So, led by their fat little host, who waddled as he walked in a way that made Tot laugh, they went to the house and were ushered into the front parlor.

  The room was beautifully furnished; but the chairs, tables, pictures and ornaments were all composed of candy of some sort, and there was a fragrant odor of wintergreen, peppermint and rose about the room that made Tot’s mouth water in delightful anticipation. The boy seated himself in a pretty pink and white chair, and Dot sat down upon a small sofa; but happening to remember th
e sofa was candy, she quickly arose and remained standing, although she was also a little afraid of the sticky floor, which seemed to be well powdered.

  Soon the woman entered the room and, having welcomed them, she said, “Our colored nurse, Aunt Lowney, had left the baby, little Huyler, out in the sun, and before she noticed he was getting warm, his left hand had all melted away. That was what made him cry.”

  “Oh, that is terrible!” cried Dot, clasping her hands in horror at the sad accident. “What can you do for the poor child?”

  “I have sent Aunt Lowney into the marshmallow field to get him some more fingers. We shall be able to patch him up all right, I think, so do not let it distress you. Accidents are always happening in our Valley. But I will order luncheon served at once, for you must be hungry after your journey.”

  She then left the room, but soon returned, followed by two serving maids, with complexions so dark brown in color that Dot was almost afraid of them.

  “They are only chocolate, you know,” whispered the man, “and quite harmless when taken in moderation.”

  Dot hardly understood what he meant, but felt more at ease after the explanation.

  The maids brought many candy dishes to the table all filled with delicious bonbons and sugar-plums of every description. There were apples, pears, oranges and grapes, berries and peaches, rose-leaves and violets; but all were composed of candy and proved delightful eating. For drink they had pink lemonade, served in dainty candy cups.

  “This pink lemonade,” said the woman, “is one of the features of our Valley, through which it flows in a pretty stream. Sometimes we also drink the river water, but not often, for it is hardly sticky enough for our taste. Our luncheon is now ready, so please draw your chairs to the table.”

  Tot tried to rise then, but found he was stuck fast to his chair, owing to the heat of his body having warmed the candy. Finding he could not get up he began to cry, but Dot helped him, and by carefully pulling his clothes away, an inch at a time, she managed to get him loose. His clothes left a soft fuzz upon the seat and back of the chair, and to avoid further trouble, the candy man scattered powdered sugar over the chairs in which Dot and Tot sat at the table.