The wall was higher than their heads when they stood up in the boat, and upon its top Dot noticed several little wooden soldiers, with guns on their shoulders, walking stiffly back and forth, as if they were keeping guard. Each of these soldiers was seemingly made out of one piece of wood, and wore a high black hat and a red coat with black buttons, while his trousers were painted white. The guns did not look very dangerous, and Dot remembered that once she had owned a box of just such looking soldiers as these.
But the soldiers on the wall were moving around, and Dot’s soldiers had never moved at all — at least, while she was looking at them. What they might have done when she was not looking she, of course, could not tell.
The wooden soldiers paid no attention to the boat, which glided slowly down the stream, while the children looked for a place to land.
“Perhaps we’ll float right through the Valley,” whispered Dot, “and then the Queen will never know we’ve been in her country at all.”
In a few moments, however, they saw a gate in the wall, made of wood and nearly covered with gold and silver plates that shone brightly in the sun. In front of this gate was a little landing place and some steps leading down to the river. They floated up to the steps and stopped, so Dot and Tot got out and tied the boat to a silver ring in the wall. Then they walked to the gate, where Dot was just putting out her hand to open it, when she heard a voice cry:
“Halt!”
She looked up and saw that on each side of the gate was standing one of the wooden soldiers. Their guns were pointed straight at Dot and Tot, and although the soldiers were not much taller than Tot’s knee, the children were startled at their warlike attitude and stood still in surprise.
“Can’t we open the gate?” asked the girl, after a moment.
“No!” answered one of the soldiers, in a voice he tried to make gruff, but which sounded rather squeaky, as if it needed oiling.
“Why not?” inquired Tot.
“It’s against orders,” replied the soldier. “The Queen has commanded me to shoot any stranger who tries to open the gate.”
“But your gun is only wood,” said Dot, who was annoyed at the soldier’s interference.
“Wooden guns can’t shoot!” shouted Tot, gleefully.
The soldier seemed somewhat embarrassed at this and Dot thought he blushed a little.
“It does not matter whether my gun will shoot or not,” he answered, stiffly. “I am ordered not to let anyone open the gate.”
“But you have no right to give me orders,” said the girl. “I don’t belong to Merryland, so your Queen has no authority over either Tot or me.”
“Then why are you here, if you don’t belong here?” asked the soldier.
Dot hesitated to reply, for she felt the rebuke this question implied.
“We couldn’t help coming,” she explained, at last; “the boat brought us.”
“Well, since you are here,” said the soldier, “you must obey the laws of this country and the Queen who rules it.”
“That’s rubbish!” cried Dot, now thoroughly provoked. “You can’t obey the orders of your Queen yourself.”
“Why not?” inquired the soldier, in surprise.
“You were ordered to shoot, were you not?”
“Certainly.”
“Well, you can’t shoot, for your gun is made of wood. So you cannot obey orders.”
“But if you had not come here,” protested the soldier, “I should have had no occasion to shoot. So it is all your fault.”
“Perhaps so,” replied Dot; “but I mean to open the gate in spite of your orders.”
She raised the latch and the gate began to swing slowly back upon its hinges; but when it had partly opened, she saw standing before her another wooden soldier, dressed like a Captain, who held in his hand a wooden sword.
“Stand back!” cried the Captain. “If you advance another step I will stick my sword into you.”
Dot looked at the sword and saw that the point of it was really sharp. So she stopped short and said, “Does the Queen of Merryland live here?”
“She does,” replied the Captain.
“Then please let her know that I have come to call upon her,” continued Dot. She was a wise little girl, and knew that while she might safely argue with the helpless soldiers, it was far better to be polite to the Captain with the sharp sword.
At her request the officer bowed courteously and blew upon a pewter whistle that hung around his neck. In answer to the summons another soldier appeared, who saluted his Captain respectfully.
“Go to her Majesty the Queen,” commanded the officer, “and tell her there are two strangers at the gate who wish to see her.”
At once the soldier started upon his mission, and the little wooden Captain turned to Dot and Tot, saying, “You may come within the gate and sit down while you await the commands of our Queen; but if she will not receive you, of course you must go out again.”
So the children passed through the gateway, which the Captain closed behind them, and sat down upon a small wooden bench built against the wall. Then they began to look around, for now before their eyes was the Fourth Valley of Merryland, the home of the Queen.
“Why, it’s just like a toy village!” cried Dot, after the first look.
It really was something like a toy village. There were several pretty streets, with rows of little houses facing them, and each house was much ornamented and brightly painted. Before the houses were rows of trees which seemed to have been whittled out of wood, for the leaves looked like shavings. These trees were colored a bright emerald green, and each one stood upon a little round platform of its own. The grass also looked like wood shavings, and was dyed the same bright green color as the trees.
Dot gazed dreamily at the houses and thought they resembled the big doll’s playhouse her papa had once given her for Christmas, and which now was standing in the attic of her city home.
At the far end of the main street, which ran down to the gate where they sat, was a house much bigger than the others, having for a roof a round dome which shone in the sun as if made of gold. This house was built in a remarkably beautiful and artistic manner, and before it, upon a bright green lawn, stood many trees and flowering shrubs.
“Who lives there?” Dot asked the wooden Captain.
“That is the palace of her Majesty the Queen,” was the reply.
“Oh!” said Dot; “is she very big?”
“Quite big,” answered the Captain, proudly.
“But,” he added, “of course she is not so extremely large as you are.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Dot again, and before he had time to say anything more she saw a carriage drive around to the front of the palace. Then the door quickly opened, and what looked to be a lady came out and entered the carriage.
It was so far away she could not see the lady clearly at first; but soon the carriage came rolling swiftly toward them, and both Dot and Tot stood up that they might see plainly who was coming.
In a remarkably short time the carriage reached the gate and stopped short, and now the children’s eyes were big with wonder as they looked upon it and its occupants.
The carriage itself was of the kind that are sold in toy shops, and it was drawn by two horses standing upon wooden platforms with rollers underneath, so that instead of the horses themselves running, the wheels of the platforms whirled around, taking the carriage wherever the driver might direct. This driver looked for all the world like a rag doll dressed in a coachman’s uniform. His neck was rather weak, and that caused his head to lean slightly to one side, giving him a somewhat broken-down appearance; but he held the reins firmly in his stuffed hands and looked straight ahead, like a well-trained servant.
Seated in the carriage was the loveliest Wax Doll the children had ever looked upon. She was nearly as big as Tot, and was exquisitely dressed in a gown of soft, fluffy white material, with many pink ribbons upon her shoulders and sleeves, and a broad sash around her waist
. Her silken hair was long and of a golden color, while her eyes were blue, and had in their depths a sweet and gentle expression. As for her complexion, it was a dainty pink-and-white, delicately blended. Upon her head she wore a golden crown with seven points upon it, and each point was tipped with a gleaming jewel.
Almost at first sight Dot longed to hold the Wax Doll in her arms and love and fondle her, and Tot suddenly became so bashful that he took off his hat and bowed his head to the “sweet lady” (as he called her), with his eyes bent upon the ground.
Yet scarcely had the children taken a good look at this delightful creature, when the Wax Doll leaped lightly from the carriage and stood before them, showing, as she did so, that her feet were clad in white satin slippers, embroidered with silver.
“Who are you?” she asked, in a pleasant voice, but with some anxiety, Dot thought; “and how did you ever get to Merryland?”
“We came in a boat,” replied the girl; “and this is my friend, Tot Thompson, and I am Dot Freeland.”
“Dot F’eelun,” murmured Tot, shyly lifting his eyes and nodding his head.
“But you shouldn’t have come here,” said the little lady. “This is private property, and I have placed guards to prevent anyone entering my Valleys.”
“Are you the Queen?” asked the girl.
“Yes, I am Queen of all Merryland; and I cannot understand why my guards have disobeyed my orders.”
“Oh, the guards were all right,” said Dot. “It was we who disobeyed. But we really couldn’t help it, for we had to go wherever the boat carried us.”
Then she told the Queen all the story of their adventures, and of how they had been carried by accident into the Valleys of Merryland.
After she had heard the story, the little lady looked puzzled for a moment and then said, “No one who enters my kingdom should ever be allowed to leave it again, for if they did the world should soon know all about me and my people. If that happened, all our comfort and fun would be spoiled, for strangers would be coming here every day.”
“Have strangers been here before?” asked Dot, timidly.
“Never,” answered the Queen.
“Then what are you going to do with us?” inquired the girl.
“Really, I do not know. You see, I am so perplexed that I have stopped smiling, and that will never do in the world; for should the weather change and cool my wax, I would remain solemn until it warmed up again, and my people would then think me unworthy to be the Queen of Merryland.”
“I’m sorry to have caused you so much trouble,” said Dot, softly. “I’d much rather be at home again, if I could, although your Valleys are so queer and delightful.”
Then the Queen again smiled upon them.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” she exclaimed, brightly, “I’ll find some way out of our difficulty when I have used my thinking machine. Until then you must come to my palace and be treated as my guests.”
“Thank you,” said Dot and Tot together.
The Queen turned to the wooden Captain and commanded:
“Escort these strangers to my royal palace, and see that you treat them most politely; for although they are in reality my prisoners, they have been guilty of no intentional wrong and seem to be nice children.”
The wooden Captain removed his wooden hat and bowed very low, so low indeed that Tot could see the peg on the top of his head that held the hat on when it was in place.
“Your Majesty’s commands shall be obeyed,” he said.
Then the Queen stepped into her carriage, the rag coachman cracked his whip, and the wheels of the horses’ platform began spinning around. Then the Queen rode swiftly up the street to her royal palace.
Dot and Tot followed more slowly, for the Captain who escorted them was exceedingly small and walked stiffly, having no joints in his knees. As they trudged along Tot asked the Captain:
“Why do the horses go on wheels?”
“Because they’re made that way, I suppose,” was the reply.
“Why don’t they make ‘em to walk on their legs?” continued the boy.
“It would tire them too much,” answered the Captain. “Being on platforms, the horses never get tired, you see, for the wheels do all the work.”
“Oh!” said Tot, “I see.” Then, after a pause, he asked:
“What do you feed ‘em?”
“Cotton,” answered the Captain. “We keep them quite full of it all the time. That’s what makes them look so plump and healthy. What do they feed horses on in your country?”
“Hay,” said Tot.
“We tried stuffing ours with hay once,” remarked the Captain; “but it made their skins look lumpy, it was so coarse; so now we use cotton altogether.”
“I see,” said Tot again, in a rather bewildered voice.
The street they were walking upon was smooth and level, and the houses they passed were neat and pretty; but both the children noticed there were no people to be seen anywhere about the village. This seemed strange, and Dot was about ask who lived in the houses, when they arrived at the gate of the palace, upon which the Captain knocked three times with the handle of his wooden sword.
Thereupon the gate opened slowly, and they passed into a beautiful flower garden, and walked along the green-bordered paths until they came to the high-arched doorway of the palace.
Dot had only time to notice that there were seven golden stars above the doorway, when the Queen herself appeared and led them through a hall into her drawing room, having dismissed the wooden Captain with a nod of her royal head.
Although the house was by far the biggest one in the Valley, the tops of the doors were only a little way above Dot’s head, and when the children sat down in the drawing room they chose the biggest chairs, and found them just about the right size.
“Now, my dears,” said the pretty Queen, “it is almost dinner time, and I know you must be nearly starved; so I will have you shown at once to your rooms, and when you have bathed your faces and brushed your clothes you shall have something nice to eat.”
She touched a bell that stood upon a table near by, and at once there came into the room a little boy doll, dressed in a brown suit with brass buttons. He was larger in size than any doll Tot had seen outside of Merryland, yet he was not so big as the Queen herself. When the children looked at him closely, they could see that his face and hands and feet were knitted from colored worsteds, while his eyes were two big black beads.
This curious doll walked straight up to the Queen and bowed before her, while she said, “Scollops, show this young man to the laughing chamber, and wait upon him while he arranges his toilet.”
Scollops, as the knitted boy seemed named, bowed again and murmured, “Your Majesty shall be obeyed.” Then, turning to Tot, he took his hand and led him from the room. The hand felt soft and woolly to Tot, but he did not object to it, for Scollops had a merry expression to his face that won the little boy’s heart at once.
“Where are we going?” he asked, as they began to mount the stairs.
“To the laughing chamber,” replied Scollops; and having reached the top of the stairs, they walked down a long hallway and entered a room so odd and pretty that Tot stopped short and gazed at it in astonishment.
In many ways it was like an ordinary room, for it contained a dresser, a bed, chairs and a table. But upon the wall were painted hundreds of heads of children — boys and girls of all countries, with light and dark hair, straight and curly hair, blue and black and brown and gray eyes, and all with laughing faces. The posts of the bed were also carved into laughing baby faces; the chairs and the dresser showed a face upon every spot where there was a place for one, and every face throughout the whole room had a smile upon it. To match the rest of the furniture, the carpet had woven upon it in bright colors all kinds of laughing children’s faces, and the effect of the queer room was to make Tot himself laugh until the tears roll down his cheeks.
When the boy had looked the room over and seen all the faces
, Scollops helped him to wash his hands and face, to comb his hair and to brush his clothes, and when this task was finished, the woolly doll said:
“I will now show you why this room is called the laughing chamber. Lie down upon the bed a moment — but don’t get your shoes against the clean covers.”
Tot lay down upon the bed, and at once heard a sweet, tinkling chorus of laughter coming from every part of the room. It was so delightful and soothing that he listened to it rapture. Softly his eyes closed, and in another moment he would have been sound asleep had not Scollops raised him to his feet and said:
“It is not time for sleep yet, for you haven’t had your dinner. But the laughing faces will make you slumber peacefully when the time comes, and give you pleasant dreams, too.”
XI. — The Palace of Wonders
No sooner had Scollops taken Tot from the drawing room than the Queen touched her bell a second time, and in answer to the summons a neatly dressed doll maid entered the room and made her bow before her pretty mistress. This maid was a pleasant looking little person; but Dot noticed her eyebrows were painted upon her face, and her hair seemed painted on, too, only the little white cap nearly covered it, so it didn’t show much.
“Twinkle,” said the Queen, “show this young lady to the musical chamber and wait upon her as she dresses for dinner.” Then, turning to Dot, she added, “I shall retire to my own room and use my thinking machine while you are gone, so that I may know what to do with you. Your coming has completely upset my life, for I never thought to see strangers in Merryland. But you must not worry. Doubtless, my thinking machine will show me exactly what to do with you, and in any event I could not harm two such gentle children as you and Tot.”
She nodded smilingly and left the room, while the maid Twinkle led Dot up the stairs and along the hallway to her room.
The girl thought she had never seen a prettier chamber, although she had always been daintily cared for by her wealthy parents. The bedstead was of pure ivory, and the pillows were covered with creamy-white silk, embroidered with white flowers. The bedspread was of pure white, too, and over it were thickly sewn many brilliant diamonds, while the fringe along the edges was made of diamond beads. The chairs and sofas were covered with white brocaded silks, and the velvet carpet was scattered with lilies-of-the-valley on a delicate green groundwork.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 227