“Now they are fast asleep again, and will remain so until I choose to awaken them.”
“They are lovely dolls,” said Dot, sighing to think the entertainment was ended, “and I should love to play with them all day long.”
“Sometimes I have kept them awake all day myself,” replied the Queen; “but that is when I am lonely and need amusement. No one can be dull while those laughing, romping, mischievous dolls are awake. But I must have a talk with my new Prince and Princess this evening, so I could devote but little time to my people, and only awakened them to satisfy your curiosity.”
“Can’t I have a doll to keep?” asked Tot, as they drove back to the palace.
“Yes, my dear Prince,” answered the Queen. “I’ll give you Scollops. You will find him very useful and a jolly playmate.”
Tot nodded his thanks, and soon they reached the palace and accompanied the Queen to her room. When all were seated the Wax Doll said, “Tomorrow I must leave you here alone, for I am going upon a journey.”
“Where to?” enquired Dot, greatly surprised at this announcement.
“I shall go up the river to the end of Merryland, where you entered the First Valley. Since you have found a way to enter my kingdom from the big outside world, I have been greatly worried for fear others would also come here. To prevent this I must visit the Watch-Dog of Merryland, and tell him how to keep anyone from passing the archway.”
“Oh, the Watch-Dog cannot keep people out,” said Dot. “He’s too polite and good-natured. When we said we would not mind him he was sorry, but he didn’t try to stop us.”
“Well,” replied the Queen, “that is why I must make the journey. I shall command the Watch-Dog to sit hereafter upon a rocky shelf above the arch, and then if people will not obey him, and try to get through the arch in spite of my orders, the old man must jump into the river in front of the opening. As soon as he touches the water he will be turned into a great rock, which will block up the archway and prevent anyone from entering my kingdom.”
“Oh, I see,” said Dot. “Then the Watch-Dog may be of some use, after all.”
“I hope so,” declared the Queen.
“But what shall we do while you are away?” asked the girl, anxiously.
“You may amuse yourselves by running about the palace, and all my household will wait upon you and obey your orders; for you are now Prince Tot and Princess Dot of Merryland, and your power is second only to my own.”
“That’s nice,” said Tot.
Twinkle now led Dot to her room and helped her prepare for bed. The diamond coverlet was rather heavy to sleep under, so Twinkle laid it aside and covered the girl with a soft, fleecy robe.
Tot also went to his laughing chamber, accompanied by Scollops, who helped him undress and threw over his head a pretty pink silk nightgown. Tot wanted the door between his room and Dot’s left open while they slept, so Scollops opened it and the children called good-night to each other.
When Dot lay down upon her bed, the fairy chorus began to sing softly and sweetly; and when Tot lay down the invisible laughter of childish voices rang out like chimes, keeping time to the tinkling chorus from Dot’s bed. This was all so soothing and delightful that in less than a minute the children’s eyes had closed, and soon they were fast asleep and dreaming sweet dreams of the wonders of Merryland.
XIII. — The Revolt of the Dolls
Dot and Tot awoke early, but the sun was already flooding the palace with its silver rays, and they made haste to dress and join the Queen at breakfast.
This meal was as dainty and satisfying as the one they had partaken of the night before, and the wax Queen laughed and talked so pleasantly that no one would have suspected she was about to undertake a long journey.
“I shall try to return by sundown,” she said to them, “so you will only be alone during the day. I advise you to pass the time by exploring the Valley, and if you wish to ride, the royal coachmen will take you wherever you wish to go.”
“May I ask a favor?” said Dot, timidly.
“Certainly, Princess; ask whatever you will,” returned the Queen, as she threw a scarlet cloak over her shoulders and prepared to start.
“I would like you to waken the dolls of the village before you go, so that Tot and I may play with them,” said the girl.
The Queen reflected a moment before she replied, “The dolls are often mischievous when they have a whole day to themselves, and you might find them troublesome. However, as you will be sure to enjoy their merry pranks, I’ll do as you wish, and leave you the dolls for playmates.”
“Oh, thank you ever so much!” cried Dot, gratefully.
The Queen now called the carriages and they all rolled down to the main street of the village. Here her Majesty waved the magic wand three times, and the dolls immediately awoke and began such a chattering and such romping play that the Queen herself became bewildered and ordered the coachman to hasten to the river bank.
Dot and Tot went with her to see her start upon her journey, and when they had passed out of the big gate, which the wooden soldiers opened for them with respectful salutes, the Queen said:
“I am going to borrow your boat, for it will be the easiest way for me to reach the Valley of the Watch-Dog.”
“But you can never row it up stream,” said Dot; “and there is but one oar.”
“Oh, I shall not need the oars at all,” responded the Wax Doll, and seated herself in the boat.
“Do you know,” said the girl, “that you have not yet told us your name?”
“Didn’t I tell you yesterday?” returned the Queen, as if surprised.
“No, indeed,” said the girl.
“Well, that was very careless of me. I am so busy that sometimes I forget to do things. But I must be going, so goodbye my dears; I hope the dolls won’t bother you too much.”
“We shall enjoy them,” replied Dot.
The Queen now waved her fairy wand and at once the boat glided from the shore.
“Good-bye, your Majesty!” cried Dot and Tot together.
Swiftly the boat floated up the stream — so swiftly, indeed, that the water rippled like music against the bow. The children waved their handkerchiefs at the fairy doll until she had reached the arch leading to the Valley of Babies, when they passed through the gateway and, dismissing their coachmen, walked up the village street to visit the dolls.
These were really becoming rather boisterous and ran about in circles, playing “I spy,” and blind-man’s buff, and London Bridge with much laughter and noise. When they saw Dot and Tot they ran up to them and cried:
“Start the music box! We want to dance.”
“I do not know how. The Queen has the key with her,” answered Dot, shouting loudly that she might be heard above the tumult.
The dolls seemed greatly disappointed at this, and one saucy-looking wooden-jointed doll said crossly:
“The Queen has no right to go away and take the key. How are we to amuse ourselves all day unless we can dance?”
“Tot and I will play with you,” answered Dot.
“Very well,” said a big China doll which wore a rather soiled and ragged dress. “What new games do you know?”
Dot mentioned several; but the dolls laughed at her, crying out: “That’s old! We’re tired of that! Give us something new!”
“The old games are very nice games,” said the girl, “and I do not see why you should object to playing them.”
“We’ll object if we want to!” declared a worn-looking kid doll, whose joints were so ripped that they scattered sawdust whenever it moved. “You’re not our Queen.”
“But I’m your Princess,” said Dot, with dignity, “and while the Queen is away I have the right to rule in this Valley.”
“So have I,” said Tot.
“Then rule!” shouted the saucy wooden doll. “Rule as the Queen does, and give us music to dance by.”
“Yes! yes!” they all cried. “We want to dance!” And they flung t
heir arms over their heads, and leaped and pranced so energetically that the ground was quite strewn with sawdust that leaked out of them.
Dot was much troubled at the noisy demands of the dolls. She had expected a quiet and happy day playing with these pretty creatures, and now, even in the first hour of their awakening, they were proving very troublesome. Tot seemed to enjoy the excitement, however, and stood behind Dot, with his hands in his pockets, smiling gleefully.
While she was thinking what was best to be done, the rag doll Scollops came up to Dot and said:
“Since the music box is locked up, why do you not order out the pewter band to play for them?”
“That is a good idea,” she exclaimed, her face brightening. “Go at once, Scollops and tell the musicians to come and play.”
While Scollops was on this errand the dolls became more noisy than ever, and one of them tried to knock Tot’s crown off. But the boy gave the naughty doll such a strong push that he pushed over a dozen or more that stood behind it.
“Don’t hurt them, Tot,” said the girl; “remember they are not strong and will break easily.”
“I’ll smash ‘em if they touch me!” cried the boy, indignantly; “I’m Prince Tot.”
Fortunately, the pewter band now made its appearance, and at Dot’s command they stood in a circle at one edge of the road and began to play a waltz.
The effect of the music upon the dolls was laughable. They immediately began waltzing around as merrily as could be, and paid no further attention to Dot and Tot. While they danced the dolls kept up a continual chattering and laughter, and they looked so sweet and happy that the children could hardly realize they had been so cross and unreasonable a short time before.
“If they are kept busy they won’t get into mischief,” said Scollops, who had come back with the band; “but even her Majesty the Queen cannot manage them when they have nothing to amuse themselves with. I’m a doll myself and I know.”
“What does she do when they are naughty?” asked Dot.
“She puts them to sleep,” was the answer.
Dot had almost regretted asking the Queen to leave the village dolls awake all day; but she loved to watch them dance, and they seemed quite contented now.
“Don’t they ever remain quiet, and visit with each other, and rest?” asked the girl.
“Never,” replied Scollops. “They always are unhappy unless they are rushing around or playing or dancing.”
“They wouldn’t make very comfortable playmates, would they, Tot?” she said.
“No,” he answered, gravely; “don’t like live dolls.”
But it amused them to watch the little creatures capering about, so the children sat down upon a door-step and enjoyed the dancing until Twinkle came to tell them their luncheon was ready. Then they quietly stole away, unnoticed by the dolls, and walked to the palace, where they had a delightful luncheon and were waited upon by Scollops and Twinkle.
While they were yet at the table they suddenly heard a great noise and clamor at the palace gate, so they at once ran out to see what was the matter. Crowding before the gates was an excited throng of dolls, screaming and stamping and waving their hands in the air as if they had really become crazy.
At first Dot could make nothing of their cries, for all were talking at the same time; but she asked Twinkle what the trouble was about and the maid answered:
“The musicians must have stopped playing.”
“I wonder why they did that,” said the girl.
Here Scollops, who had been down to the gate and spoken to the dolls, came up to Dot, bringing with him the leader of the pewter band.
“What caused this trouble?” she asked.
“They are so unreasonable,” replied the musician, in a complaining voice, “that no one can manage them except the Queen. We had played dance music for several hours and were all tired out, for our lungs are only pewter, and no true musician likes to play such common music continually. So we thought we would rest ourselves by playing something slow and really classical — for all classical music is slow, you know. But no sooner had we started the introduction than those soulless dolls became violent. They rushed at my poor musicians, threw them down, and trampled upon them! Every member of my band is either bent or broken. Even I have a bent back and a twisted leg, and my horn is badly damaged.”
Dot looked at him and saw that he spoke truly.
“I’m very sorry,” she said, nervously. “I’m sure I don’t know what to do with them, for the Queen will not return before sundown.”
The dolls had remained outside the palace gates until now; but as Dot looked anxiously toward them, the gate flew open and one of the rebellious creatures ran up the path to where the children stood. She was dressed in a rather fussy way, and had big black eyes that stared straight at one. Her hair was tangled and matted, and she had lost one shoe and worn a great hole in her stocking, through which her toes peeped out.
“What do you want?” asked Dot, as this doll came near.
“We want our dinner, of course,” answered the doll, saucily.
“But I didn’t know dolls could eat,” said the girl.
“Well we do, and now we want to be fed. Do you think it is right and proper to keep us awake all day and then refuse to give us any dinner?”
“What do you eat?” enquired Dot.
“What could a doll eat but sawdust? Nearly all of us have danced more or less sawdust out of our bodies, and now we want them filled up again,” continued the doll.
“But I have no sawdust, nor do I know where to get it,” answered the child.
“The Queen has a house full of it in the village. Give us the key and we will help ourselves,” said the doll.
“The Queen must have taken the key with her,” returned Dot, helplessly; “I know nothing about it.”
“Then we shall break down the door,” declared the doll, and stamping her feet with anger she rushed back to her companions.
When they learned that the Queen had carried away the key to the sawdust house the dolls became much excited and ran off with loud shouts to tear down the door of the house.
Dot was both vexed and worried, for Twinkle declared the Queen would be much provoked if her pretty house was battered and broken.
“Let’s call out the army,” exclaimed Tot, suddenly.
“That’s a good idea, Tot,” said the girl, and at once sent Scollops to order the pewter soldiers to march into the village and preserve order. But the rag boy soon returned with the news that the soldiers refused to obey.
“They are not used to fighting,” explained Scollops, “and they fear the dolls will treat them as they did the pewter band. Besides, they declare the Queen detests fighting, and would blame them for interfering with the people of the village.”
“The soldiers are toys and the people are dolls,” added Twinkle; “so they sympathize with each other.”
“They didn’t seem to sympathize with the band,” said Dot.
“No, but the band had no right to play classical music in public.”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Dot, thoughtfully.
She saw now that she must let the naughty dolls have their own way; but she went down the street with Tot and Scollops and watched the crowd break down the door of the house. They took away quantities of the Queen’s sawdust and carried it to their homes, where they made it into pies and cakes and feasted merrily upon this queer food.
This gave them something to do and made them happy for a while, and Dot was profoundly grateful for a period of rest and quiet; but she feared the dolls would break forth into more mischief before the day passed, and so it proved.
For toward evening they again became restless, and as there was no music to be had they decided to make some of their own. So they gathered up a lot of tin pans for drums and pot covers for cymbals, and several of the dolls got combs and put paper over them. When they blew upon these combs and hummed a tune it sounded almost like music; so they form
ed a procession, with the doll musicians at the head of it, and marched all over the village, singing loudly:
Tum, tum — tum!
Tum, tum — tum!
Here comes the band with a tin-pan drum;
Here come the cymbals, clangety-clang!
Here come the combs with their twang, twang, twang!
Here come the marchers, happy and gay,
Strangers must keep out of our way!
Tum, tum — tum!
Tum, tum — tum!
Clatter the cymbals and bang the drum!
They marched up to the palace gate and back again, and when they came to the house in which was the big music box, one of the cried:
“Let us break the door down and start the music!”
“Good, we will!” screamed some of the most mischievous dolls.
“What do we care for the Queen?” yelled others.
They made a rush for the house, and Dot, now angry and determined that the Queen’s music box should not be spoiled, ran to the door and placed her back against it, while she cried out, “If any of you dare to come nearer I will whip you soundly!”
The dolls hung back at this, but they threw a shower of tin pans and combs and pot covers at her, which rattled against the house, but did not hurt her a bit. Suddenly, amidst all this riot and turmoil, the girl was amazed to see every doll become silent and motionless. They ran in all directions to their homes, and as the street became clear Dot saw, standing there alone, the Queen of Merryland, who was waving for the third and last time the fairy wand which would put every doll in the village fast asleep.
“Oh, your Majesty!” cried the girl, running to her, “I’m so glad you’ve come home again!”
XIV. — The Queen’s Fairy Wand
You see, Princess,” said the Queen, when they were safely within the palace, “it is rather dangerous to leave the dolls awake while I am away. I feared, after I had started, you might have trouble with them, and so hurried back as soon as I could. Did they frighten you?”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 229