But every one bowed low, and stood aside for them to pass, and they walked through beautiful halls and reception rooms where the sugar was cut into panels and scrolls and carved to represent all kinds of fruit and flowers.
“Isn’t it sweet!” said Twinkle.
“Sure it is,” answered Chubbins.
And now they were ushered into a magnificent room, where a stout little sugar man was sitting near the window playing upon a fiddle, while a group of sugar men and women stood before him in respectful attitudes and listened to the music.
Twinkle knew at once that the fiddler was the king, because he had a sugar crown upon his head. His Majesty was made of very white and sparkling cut loaf-sugar, and his clothing was formed of the same pure material. The only color about him was the pink sugar in his cheeks and the brown sugar in his eyes. His fiddle was also of white sugar, and the strings were of spun sugar and had an excellent tone.
When the king saw the strange children enter the room he jumped up and exclaimed:
“Bless my beets! What have we here?”
“Mortals, Most Granular and Solidified Majesty,” answered the Captain, bowing so low that his forehead touched the floor. “They came in by the ancient tunnel.”
“Well, I declare,” said the king. “I thought that tunnel had been stopped up for good and all.”
“The stone above the door slipped,” said Twinkle, “so we came down to see what we could find.”
“You must never do it again,” said his Majesty, sternly. “This is our own kingdom, a peaceful and retired nation of extra refined and substantial citizens, and we don’t wish to mix with mortals, or any other folks.”
“We’ll go back, pretty soon,” said Twinkle.
“Now, that’s very nice of you,” declared the king, “and I appreciate your kindness. Are you extra refined, my dear?”
“I hope so,” said the girl, a little doubtfully.
“Then there’s no harm in our being friendly while you’re here. And as you’ve promised to go back to your own world soon, I have no objection to showing you around the town. You’d like to see how we live, wouldn’t you?”
“Very much,” said Twinkle.
“Order my chariot, Captain Brittle,” said his Majesty; and the Captain again made one of his lowly bows and strutted from the room to execute the command.
The king now introduced Chubbins and Twinkle to the sugar ladies and gentlemen who were present, and all of them treated the children very respectfully.
Chapter V. Princess Sakareen
“SAY, play us a tune,” said Chubbins to the king. His Majesty didn’t seem to like being addressed so bluntly, but he was very fond of playing the fiddle, so he graciously obeyed the request and played a pretty and pathetic ballad upon the spun sugar strings. Then, begging to be excused for a few minutes while the chariot was being made ready, the king left them and went into another room.
This gave the children a chance to talk freely with the sugar people, and Chubbins said to one man, who looked very smooth on the outside:
“I s’pose you’re one of the big men of this place, aren’t you?”
The man looked frightened for a moment, and then took the boy’s arm and led him into a corner of the room.
“You ask me an embarrassing question,” he whispered, looking around to make sure that no one overheard. “Although I pose as one of the nobility, I am, as a matter of fact, a great fraud!”
“How’s that?” asked Chubbins.
“Have you noticed how smooth I am?” inquired the sugar man.
“Yes,” replied the boy. “Why is it?”
“Why, I’m frosted, that’s the reason. No one here suspects it, and I’m considered very respectable; but the truth is, I’m just coated over with frosting, and not solid sugar at all.”
“What’s inside you?” asked Chubbins.
“That,” answered the man, “I do not know. I’ve never dared to find out. For if I broke my frosting to see what I’m stuffed with, every one else would see too, and I would be disgraced and ruined.”
“Perhaps you’re cake,” suggested the boy.
“Perhaps so,” answered the man, sadly. “Please keep my secret, for only those who are solid loaf-sugar are of any account in this country, and at present I am received in the best society, as you see.”
“Oh, I won’t tell,” said Chubbins.
During this time Twinkle had been talking with a sugar lady, in another part of the room. This lady seemed to be of the purest loaf-sugar, for she sparkled most beautifully, and Twinkle thought she was quite the prettiest person to look at that she had yet seen.
“Are you related to the king?” she asked.
“No, indeed,” answered the sugar lady, “although I’m considered one of the very highest quality. But I’ll tell you a secret, my dear.” She took Twinkle’s hand and led her across to a sugar sofa, where they both sat down.
“No one,” resumed the sugar lady, “has ever suspected the truth; but I’m only a sham, and it worries me dreadfully.”
“I don’t understand what you mean,” said Twinkle. “Your sugar seems as pure and sparkling as that of the king.”
“Things are not always what they seem,” sighed the sugar lady. “What you see of me, on the outside, is all right; but the fact is, I’m hollow!”
“Dear me!” exclaimed Twinkle, in surprise. “How do you know it?”
“I can feel it,” answered the lady, impressively. “If you weighed me you’d find I’m not as heavy as the solid ones, and for a long time I’ve realized the bitter truth that I’m hollow. It makes me very unhappy, but I don’t dare confide my secret to any one here, because it would disgrace me forever.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” said the child. “They’ll never know the difference.”
“Not unless I should break,” replied the sugar lady. “But if that happened, all the world could see that I’m hollow, and instead of being welcomed in good society I’d become an outcast. It’s even more respectable to be made of brown sugar, than to be hollow; don’t you think so?”
“I’m a stranger here,” said Twinkle; “so I can’t judge. But if I were you, I wouldn’t worry unless I got broke; and you may be wrong, after all, and as sound as a brick!”
Chapter VI. The Royal Chariot
JUST then the king came back to the room and said:
“The chariot is at the door; and, as there are three seats, I’ll take Lord Cloy and Princess Sakareen with us.”
So the children followed the king to the door of the palace, where stood a beautiful white and yellow sugar chariot, drawn by six handsome sugar horses with spun sugar tails and manes, and driven by a brown sugar coachman in a blue sugar livery.
The king got in first, and the others followed. Then the children discovered that Lord Cloy was the frosted man and Princess Sakareen was the sugar lady who had told Twinkle that she was hollow.
There was quite a crowd of sugar people at the gates to watch the departure of the royal party, and a few soldiers and policemen were also present to keep order. Twinkle sat beside the king, and Chubbins sat on the same seat with the Princess Sakareen, while Lord Cloy was obliged to sit with the coachman. When all were ready the driver cracked a sugar whip (but didn’t break it), and away the chariot dashed over a road paved with blocks of cut loaf-sugar.
The air was cool and pleasant, but there was a sweet smell to the breeze that was peculiar to this strange country. Sugar birds flew here and there, singing sweet songs, and a few sugar dogs ran out to bark at the king’s chariot as it whirled along.
“Haven’t you any automobiles in your country?” asked the girl.
“No,” answered the king. “Anything that requires heat to make it go is avoided here, because heat would melt us and ruin our bodies in a few minutes. Automobiles would be dangerous in Sugar-Loaf City.”
“They’re dangerous enough anywhere,” she said. “What do you feed to your horses?”
“They eat a fine
quality of barley-sugar that grows in our fields,” answered the king. “You’ll see it presently, for we will drive out to my country villa, which is near the edge of the dome, opposite to where you came in.”
First, however, they rode all about the city, and the king pointed out the public buildings, and the theaters, and the churches, and a number of small but pretty public parks. And there was a high tower near the center that rose half-way to the dome, it was so tall.
“Aren’t you afraid the roof will cave in some time, and ruin your city?” Twinkle asked the king.
“Oh, no,” he answered. “We never think of such a thing. Isn’t there a dome over the place where you live?”
“Yes,” said Twinkle; “but it’s the sky.”
“Do you ever fear it will cave in?” inquired the king.
“No, indeed!” she replied, with a laugh at the idea.
“Well, it’s the same way with us,” returned his Majesty. “Domes are the strongest things in all the world.”
Chapter VII. Twinkle Gets Thirsty
AFTER they had seen the sights of the city the carriage turned into a broad highway that led into the country, and soon they began to pass fields of sugar corn and gardens of sugar cabbages and sugar beets and sugar potatoes. There were also orchards of sugar plums and sugar apples and vineyards of sugar grapes. All the trees were sugar, and even the grass was sugar, while sugar grasshoppers hopped about in it. Indeed, Chubbins decided that not a speck of anything beneath the dome of Sugar-Loaf Mountain was anything but pure sugar — unless the inside of the frosted man proved to be of a different material.
By and by they reached a pretty villa, where they all left the carriage and followed the sugar king into the sugar house. Refreshments had been ordered in advance, over the sugar telephone, so that the dining table was already laid and all they had to do was to sit in the pretty sugar chairs and be waited upon by maple-sugar attendants.
There were sandwiches and salads and fruits and many other sugar things to eat, served on sugar plates; and the children found that some were flavored with winter-green and raspberry and lemon, so that they were almost as good as candies. At each plate was a glass made of crystal sugar and filled with thick sugar syrup, and this seemed to be the only thing to drink. After eating so much sugar the children naturally became thirsty, and when the king asked Twinkle if she would like anything else she answered promptly:
“Yes, I’d like a drink of water.”
At once a murmur of horror arose from the sugar people present, and the king pushed back his chair as if greatly disturbed.
“Water!” he exclaimed, in amazement.
“Sure,” replied Chubbins. “I want some, too. We’re thirsty.”
The king shuddered.
“Nothing in the world,” said he gravely, “is so dangerous as water. It melts sugar in no time, and to drink it would destroy you instantly.”
“We’re not made of sugar,” said Twinkle. “In our country we drink all the water we want.”
“It may be true,” returned the king; “but I am thankful to say there is no drop of water in all this favored country. But we have syrup, which is much better for your health. It fills up the spaces inside you, and hardens and makes you solid.”
“It makes me thirstier than ever,” said the girl. “But if you have no water we must try to get along until we get home again.”
When the luncheon was over, they entered the carriage again and were driven back towards the city. On the way the six sugar horses became restless, and pranced around in so lively a manner that the sugar coachman could scarcely hold them in. And when they had nearly reached the palace a part of the harness broke, and without warning all six horses dashed madly away. The chariot smashed against a high wall of sugar and broke into many pieces, the sugar people, as well as Twinkle and Chubbins, being thrown out and scattered in all directions.
The little girl was not at all hurt, nor was Chubbins, who landed on top the wall and had to climb down again. But the king had broken one of the points off his crown, and sat upon the ground gazing sorrowfully at his wrecked chariot. And Lord Cloy, the frosted man, had smashed one of his feet, and everybody could now see that underneath the frosting was a material very like marshmallow — a discovery that was sure to condemn him as unfit for the society of the solid sugar-loaf aristocracy of the country.
But perhaps the most serious accident of all had befallen Princess Sakareen, whose left leg had broken short off at the knee. Twinkle ran up to her as soon as she could, and found the Princess smiling happily and gazing at the part of the broken leg which she had picked up.
“See here, Twinkle,” she cried; “it’s as solid as the king himself! I’m not hollow at all. It was only my imagination.”
“I’m glad of that,” answered Twinkle; “but what will you do with a broken leg?”
“Oh, that’s easily mended,” said the Princess, “All I must do is to put a little syrup on the broken parts, and stick them together, and then sit in the breeze until it hardens. I’ll be all right in an hour from now.”
It pleased Twinkle to hear this, for she liked the pretty sugar princess.
Chapter VIII. After the Runaway
NOW the king came up to them, saying: “I hope you are not injured.”
“We are all right,” said Twinkle; “but I’m getting dreadful thirsty, so if your Majesty has no objection I guess we’ll go home.”
“No objection at all,” answered the king.
Chubbins had been calmly filling his pockets with broken spokes and other bits of the wrecked chariot; but feeling nearly as thirsty as Twinkle, he was glad to learn they were about to start for home.
They exchanged good-byes with all their sugar friends, and thanked the sugar king for his royal entertainment. Then Captain Brittle and his soldiers escorted the children to the archway through which they had entered Sugar-Loaf City.
They had little trouble in going back, although the tunnel was so dark in places that they had to feel their way. But finally daylight could be seen ahead, and a few minutes later they scrambled up the stone steps and squeezed through the little doorway.
There was their basket, just as they had left it, and the afternoon sun was shining softly over the familiar worldly landscape, which they were both rejoiced to see again.
Chubbins closed the iron door, and as soon as he did so the bolts shot into place, locking it securely.
“Where’s the key?” asked Twinkle.
“I put it into my pocket,” said Chubbins, “but it must have dropped out when I tumbled from the king’s chariot.”
“That’s too bad,” said Twinkle; “for now no one can ever get to the sugar city again. The door is locked, and the key is on the other side.”
“Never mind,” said the boy. “We’ve seen the inside of Sugar-Loaf Mountain once, and that’ll do us all our lives. Come on, Twink. Let’s go home and get a drink!”
POLICEMAN BLUEJAY
Some critics consider Policeman Bluejay to be one of Baum’s finest fantasies. The main character first appeared in one of Baum’s “Twinkle” stories, “Bandit Jim Crow.” Reilly & Britton published Policeman Bluejay in 1907 under Baum’s pseudonym, Laura Bancroft. Maginel Wright Enright provided the illustrations, as she had for Twinkle and Chubbins. The novel appeared again in 1911 under the title Babes in Birdland, and the 1917 edition replaced the pseudonym with Baum’s name. Kindness to animals was Baum’s theme in all of his “Twinkle” tales and especially in this novel. Lost in a great forest, Twinkle and Chubbins meet a “tuxix,” an evil magician in the shape of a spiny turtle. The tuxix transforms the children into skylarks, though they retain their heads. Policeman Bluejay assists the children in their new lives and adventures follow as they learn about their fellow creatures and deal with their rivalries and even violence, while absorbing some of the splendors of the natural world. They also seek a way to return to human form.
A first edition copy of ‘Policeman Bluejay’
> CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
I MUST admit that the great success of the “TWINKLE TALES” has astonished me as much as it has delighted the solemn-eyed, hard working publishers. Therefore I have been encouraged to write a new “TWINKLE BOOK,” hoping with all my heart that my little friends will find it worthy to occupy a place beside the others on their pet bookshelves. And because the children seem to especially love the story of “Bandit Jim Crow,” and bird-life is sure to appeal alike to their hearts and their imaginations, I have again written about birds.
The tale is fantastical, and intended to amuse rather than instruct; yet many of the traits of the feathered folk, herein described, are in strict accordance with natural history teachings and will serve to acquaint my readers with the habits of birds in their wildwood homes. At the same time my birds do unexpected things, because I have written a fairy tale and not a natural history.
The question is often asked me whether Twinkle and Chubbins were asleep or awake when they encountered these wonderful adventures; and it grieves me to reflect that the modern child has been deprived of fairy tales to such an extent that it does not know--as I did when a girl--that in a fairy story it does not matter whether one is awake or not. You must accept it as you would a fragrant breeze that cools your brow, a draught of sweet water, or the delicious flavor of a strawberry, and be grateful for the pleasure it brings you, without stopping to question too closely its source.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 373