“What year was it?” asked the Scarecrow, much interested.
And the Woggle-Bug, after a moment’s thought, told him truly that the exact year was 1858.
JACK PUMPKINHEAD PAWNS THE SAW-HORSE
As Jack Pumpkinhead rode his wooden steed along the street one day, he passed by a department store, where his attention was arrested by a fine Mexican saddle displayed in the window. It at once occured to Jack that this saddle would be quite pretty and comfortable upon the back of the Saw-horse, and he longed to posess it. But upon the saddle was a card reading: “Only $7.93,” and Jack reflected, with a sigh, that he did not own a single penny of that money which the people in America demand in exchange for merchandise. So he continued upon his way, until, presently, he noticed a peculiar emblem swinging above the door to the shop. This symbol, so remarkable to the man from Oz, was composed of three golden balls arranged in the form of a triangle, and our Pumpkinhead halted the Saw-Horse while he stared at it curiously. Then he allowed his to wander the shop window, which bore upon the glass this inscription: “A. Jackson Lily, Money Lender.”
“Why, here is a way provided for me to purchase that pretty saddle,” said Jack, with real pleasure; “I have only to ask this Mr. Lily to lend me the money, and then return to the store and get the saddle. These queer American ways are not at all difficult to understand, if one tries to be intelligent!”
So he boldly rode the Saw-Horse through the doorway over which the three golden balls hung, and the wooden hoofs of the Saw-Horse clattered merrily upon the floor and soon brought a man from a little room in the rear.
“Here, you fellow! Don’t you know better than to ride into a gentleman’s shop?” exclaimed the man.
“No, indeed,” responded Jack. “If I knew better I would not do such a thing.”
“What do you want?” asked the man.
“I wish to borrow $7.93,” returned the Pumpkinhead readily.
“Very well, sir,” said the man. “Where is your security?”
“My security?” answered Jack, puzzled. “My security? Ah! My security lies in keeping my head fresh as long as possible.”
The man stared at him and shook his curly head as if perplexed.
“You must give me something that is worth $7.93 as a pledge that you will return the money,” he explained; and your head won’t do at all, as I can get better pumpkins for a nickel apiece.”
“I am sure you underestimate my worth,” replied the Pumpkinhead, stiffly. With these words he turned the Saw-Horse around in order to leave the shop; but as soon as the wooden animal began to move, the money lender expressed great interest and cried out: “Stop, my friend! I will gladly lend you the money you wish, if you will leave this wooden horse with me as a pledge.”
“That seems fair and reasonable,” answered Jack, and he at once dismounted from the back of the Saw-Horse. The man counted him out the sum of $7.93 and gave it to Jack, together with a little green ticket.
Greatly pleased with his sucess, Jack Pumpkinhead walked from the shop of the money lender and retraced his steps to the department store. The pretty saddle, surrounded by many other articles, was still displayed in the window, and, standing before the glass, Jack found no less a personage that Mr. H.M. Woggle-Bug, T.E.
“Hullo!” said he to his friend. “Come inside with me while I get a saddle for the Saw-Horse.”
“You cannot get it without money,” answered the Woggle-Bug. “These Americans want money for everything.”
“I am not so ignorant as you suppose,” declared Jack, proudly. “See! Here is the sum of money require ‹ exactly $7.93.”
“Where did you get it?” inquired his friend, curiously.
“From a money lender down the street,” replied Jack.
“And what did you give him in exchange?”
“The Saw-Horse,” said Jack.”
“Dear me!” sighed the Woggle-Bug; “why did I not keep an eye upon you? You need a guardian, friend Jack.”
“Why so?” asked Jack, wonderingly.
“Because you have given away the Saw-Horse for money to buy him a saddle. When you have bought the saddle, you will have no Saw-Horse to put it on. Does not that strike you as being an absurd act?”
“Yes, it really does,” admitted Jack.
“Then, instead of buyinh the saddle, return the money to the man and get back your Saw-Horse, which is of great value to you during your travels.”
So Jack, accompanied by the Woggle-Bug, returned to the shop of the money lender. Mr. Lily had placed the Saw-Horse in his show window, where it had attracted great attention. Somewhat dazed at being abandone by it’s master, the Saw-Horse stood with outspread legs in a patient attitude, while around it was arranged a profusion of old guitars, teapots, second-hand eye glasses and last year’s straw hats.
Jack entered the shop and handed the gentleman the money and the green ticket and asked for the Saw-Horse. But the money lender refused to make the exchange without more money.
“I must have interest,” said he, “to pay me for making the loan. One more dollar, please!”
“I have no more money,” answered Jack; “and, as I have returned to you the full sum that I recieved, I now demand my Saw-Horse.”
“I shall keep both the Saw-Horse and the money until you pay me the interest,” declared Mr. Lily.
So Jack and the Woggle-Bug returned to the street, where they gazed sadly though the glass at the beloved form of the Saw-Horse.
Goodbye, dear friend!” said Jack, wiping a tear from his left eye. “Through my ignorance I have lost your companionship forever!”
But, as they turned away, the Saw-Horse solved the problem by dashing his wooden heels against the glass so forcibly that the pane was shattered to fragments. Next moment he leaped through the opening to the sidewalk, and Jack mounted to his back rode away before the astonished Mr. Lily could recover from his astonishment.
“It is always well to avoid those shops where the three golden balls are displayed,” said the Woggle-Bug, when they were at a safe distance.
“Why do money lenders display three golden balls?” asked Jack.
“It is an ancient custom,” replied the wise Insect; “for the three balls were taken from the armorial bearings of a famous and nocle Lombard family of the thirteenth century, the head of which family was among the first money lenders.
“What was the name of that famous Lombard family?” inquired the Pumpkinhead, as he patted the neck of his Saw-Horse.
“I’ll tell you,” said the Woggle-Bug, and at once gave Jack the desired information: that it was the de Medici family.
DOROTHY SPENDS AN EVENING WITH HER OLD FRIENDS AND IS ENTERTAINED WITH WONDERFUL EXHIBITIONS
Dorothy had come to spend an evening with her old friends from Oz, who were occupying pleasant rooms provided for them by the Mayor of the city.
“It does seem like old times to be with folks from the Land of Oz again,” said she. “I think the reason I love you all is because you are so different.”
“Yes,” remarked the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. “I have learned since we came to visit America that we are quite different from your earth people. They call us fairies, and think everything we do is the result of magic.”
“But, really, you are fairies, in a way,” declared little Dorothy, “and you do wonderful things.”
“You people also do wonderful things,” said the Woggle-Bug, who was present; “but no one here seems surprised at moving-pictures, talking- machines, or telephones ‹ which surely owe their origin to magical arts.”
“That is because we are used to them,” the little girl replied. “The things that interest us are those we seldom see. Won’t you perform some of your own magic for me this evening?”
“With great pleasure,” answered the Scarecrow, “it is our duty to strive to amuse our guests, and we will attempt to do some things you seldom see in America.”
As he spoke he looked around the room and noticed, hanging up
on the wall, a full-length picture of an old gentleman standing in a gilt frame. Folding his arms behind hs back the Scarecrow uttered the magic word: “Naubau!”
At once the old gentleman stepped from the background of the picture and made a polite bow to the company. The he unfastened the empty frame from the wall, caught it under his left arm, and began to dance a graceful and dignified jig, while the Woggle-Bug whistled a tune for accompaniment.
Dorothy watched him with great delight, and when he had completed his dance the old gentleman wiped his brow with his handkerchief, made another bow, hung the gilt frame upon its nail, and then stepped back into it. Next moment he was a picture again, flat and motionless as before.
“That was very interesting,” said Dorothy.
The Tin Woodman now stepped forward and made three magic signs, one after the other.
“Look out,” said he, “but don’t get frightened.”
The he took off his funnel-shaped hat and held it in front of him, and immediately a stream of water gushed from the funnel and fell upon the carpet. Dorothy screamed a little and stood upon her chair to keep from getting wet. Faster and faster came the water from the funnel, flooding all the floor of the room, and rising steadily until it almost reached the seats of the chairs on which all the party were now perched.
The Tin Woodman spoke a queer word that sounded like “chugaremolumchug!” and at once the little girl perceived enormous fishes swimming in the water. They were of many brilliant colors and all were lighted from within themselves, so that their bright colored scales glowed like the stained-glass windows of churches.
While the girl looked on wonderingly the Tin Woodman spoke another word and replaced the funnel upon his head. At once the gorgeous fish disappeared; the flood subsided, and ‹ strange to say ‹ not a drop of moisture remained upon the carpet or furniture to show where the water had been.
“That was strange and beautiful!” said Dorothy, with a sigh, as she resumed her seat upon the chair.
It was now the Woggle-Bug’s turn. The wise Insect took a flower-pot filled with fresh earth and proceeded to bury a seed within the soil. Then he set the flower-pot upon the floor and said:
“Usually, as you know, it takes many years for a tree to grow from a seed. That is because Nature supplies very slowly the elements of chemistry required to enable the tree to increase in size, and therefore it is obliged to grow just as slowly. But tonight I shall give the seed a large quantity of food it requires to make it grow, and you will be surprised at the result.”
He now crossed two fingers of his right upper hand, three fingers of his left upper hand, and four fingers of his right lower hand. Then with his left lower hand he made rapid circles above the flower-pot. At once a plant sprang into sight, rising higher and higher and spreading its breadth until it reached the ceiling, while it many branches nearly filled the room. Birds then appeared upon the limbs of this magic tree, warbling sweet songs; and although the night without was cold and dreary, this beautiful tree seemed to breathe a fragrance of summer and sunshine.
Dorothy’s eyes were fixed admiringly upon the tree when the Woggle-Bug made a quick movement with all his four arms ‹ a signal well known in magic by the people of Oz.
At once the tree shrank down into the pot and disappeared, and the room resumed its former appearance.
“That was indeed wonderful!” exclaimed the little girl. “What kind of a tree was it that you made to grow?”
“I’ll tell you,” said the Woggle-Bug, and he whispered to her that the name of the tree was Banyan.
HOW THE WOGGLE-BUG AND HIS FRIENDS VISITED SANTA CLAUS
“It’s nearly Christmas time,” said the Scarecrow, yesterday, “and I really think we ought to do something for the children of America who have welcomed us so kindly.”
“What can we do?” asked the Tin Woodman.
“Why, it seems that on every Christmas Santa Claus brings the children toys for presents. So it strikes me that we also ought to furnish toys for the little ones, to prove our love for them,” returned the Scarecrow.
“But where can we get the toys?” the Woggle-Bug inquired. “We have no money with which to purchase such things.”
“True,” acknowledged the Straw Man; “but in Oz we do without money, because when we want a thing we create it by means of the magical arts we are learned in. Let us therefore provide, by means of our magic, the toys we require for the children.”
This suggestion being agreed to, they all retired to private rooms, that they might create the toys undisturbed and before long the Tin Woodman came back with an armful of tiny tin men that were exact duplicates of himself. They were all jointed in their legs and arms, and their heads could be made to turn to right or left.
Soon after, the Scarecrow entered the room carrying a lot of rag dolls that were small images of himself. These baby scarecrows were very quaint and amusing, and there was no doubt the children would like them. Then Jack Pumpkinhead brought in a number of small pumpkin heads, made out of paper, but with features exactly resembling Jack himself.
“They’re hollow inside,” said Jack; “but the children can fill them with candy.”
When the Woggle-Bug entered the room he brought quantities of wee wogglebugs, dressed just like himself, and having their four arms and their legs made of wire and covered with fuzzy worsted. These toys were so comical that all the party laughed when they saw them.
“But our friend the Saw-Horse must not be neglected,” said the Scarecrow; so he went away and did a little more magic, and soon returned with a drove of small wooden sawhorses, which had wheels under each of their legs, so that the children could draw them over the floor by means of strings.
“Let us carry them to Santa Claus,” suggested the Tin Woodman. “He can take them in his sleigh and distribute them with his other Christmas gifts.”
This plan being approved, the entire party mounted aboard the Gump, which flew with them far away to the Laughing Valley where Santa Claus lives. They found the dear old man sitting in an easy chair before the fire, and smoking a short pipe. He had finished his yearly labors, and his sleigh was already loaded with packages of toys for the children’s Christmas, while thw ten reindeer stamped impatiently to be off and away upon their journey.
“You are just in time!” exclaimed Santa, “and I will gladly carry your toys to the little ones.”
“We would like every child to have one of them,” said the Scarecrow.
“But ‹ good gracious, my friends!” cried the bluff old Santa, “you haven’t enough for a quarter of the children I shall visit.”
This news made the people from Oz very sad and downcast; but, noticing this, the good old man added: “Never mind; I’ll make them go as far as I can, and these toys are so pretty that next year I will make a lot of them myself, so that every child may get one for Christmas. But now I must be off, or I shall never get my journey finished by Christmas morning.”
So Santa Claus placed the toys in his sleigh and himself mounted the seat. The people of Oz also got into the Gump again, and then Santa said, with a sly wink:
“Let’s have a race.”
“To be sure,” agreed the Scarecrow; “but nothing can go so swiftly as the flight of the Gump.”
Santa Claus made no answer in words, but he cracked his long whip, and away shot the reindeer ‹ swift as the wind.
The Gump flew as it had never flown before, but every effort to keep pace with the sleigh of jolly Santa was in vain, and presently the people of Oz looked down through the moonlight and saw a tiny speck far ahead of them, which was their last view of the sleigh-load of toys destined for the children’s Christmas.
“We are beaten,” remarked the Scarecrow. “But I imagine Santa Claus is a greater magician than any that has ever lived in our Land of Oz.”
And the Woggle-Bug quoted, impressively, these lines:
“ ‘Around the man who seeks a noble end, Not angels, but divinities attend.’
&nb
sp; “That,” said he, “was written by a famous American poet.”
“What was his name?” asked the Scarecrow, curiously.
And the Woggle-Bug told him that it was Ralph Waldo Emerson.
HOW THE WOGGLE-BUG FOUND A LOST CHILD AND GAVE A LESSON IN HERALDRY
One day, while the queer visitors from the marvelous Land of Oz were strolling along the street, a woman ran up to them, crying in a loud voice:
“Help, kind people! Good people, help!”
“Certainly,” answered the Scarecrow. “Give us but an idea of how we may assist you and we will gladly be of service.”
“My child is lost!” sobbed the woman. “Please ‹ oh, please help me to find her.”
“I’ll go!” cried the sympathetic Jack Pumpkinhead, and at once he put spurs to the Saw-Horse and dashed down the street.
“Now, that is just like a pumpkinhead,” remarked the Woggle-Bug, looking after him. “He has gone to find a child he has never seen. Nor has he any description to guide him.”
“My child! My child!” wailed the mother. “Please help me to find her. You are fairies from Oz; you can do anything! Please find her.”
“Be patient, my poor woman,” said the Tin Woodman, “and tell us in what way you lost your child.”
“I was walking down the street with her, and stopped to look in a shop window. It was only for a moment, kind sirs, but during that time my little girl disappeared in the crowd, and I cannot find her anywhere. Oh ‹ boo hoo! ‹ what shall I do?”
“Stop crying, for one thing,” suggested the Woggle-Bug, “and tell us what your little girl looks like.”
“She wears a white dress and a pink bonnet,” said the woman, trying hard to suppress her tears.
“All right, I’ll find her!” exclaimed the kind-hearted Tin Woodman; and away he rushed up the street.
“Another foolish one,” remarked the Woggle-Bug. “There may be a dozen little girls running around loose and dressed in white, with pink bonnets. Tell me, madam, the color of your child’s hair and eyes.”
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 839