Complete Works of L. Frank Baum

by L. Frank Baum

  Rhymes by L. Frank Baum. Illustrations by Harry Kennedy. Hand lettering by C. J. Costello.

  These two books, to be published September 1st, will be exceedingly handsome and attractive. Of uniform size, 10 ½ x 12 ½ inches, printed in four colors on heavy paper and strongly bound in ornamental boards, they will appeal especially to youngsters. Mr. Baum’s rhymes are up to the standard set by himself in “Father Goose.” Mr. Kennedy’s pictures are of the highest merit, being both spirited and full of fun, while correct in all details of military and naval uniforms, equipments, etc.

  Price, $1.00 per volume.

  The Origin of the Name ‘Oz’

  From: The Publisher’s Weekly, April 18, 1903

  NOTES ON AUTHORS.

  L. Frank Baum, author of "The Wizard of Oz," thus explains how he found the title for his very popular book: "I have a little cabinet letter file on my desk that is just in front of me. I was thinking and wondering about a title for the story, and had settled on 'Wizard' as part of it. My gaze was caught by the gilt letters on the three drawers of the cabinet. The first was A-G; the next drawer was labelled H-N, and on the last were the letters O-Z. And 'Oz' it at once became." A new edition of "The Wizard of Oz" will shortly be issued by the Bobbs-Merrill Company.

  Obituary

  From: Holly Leaves V. VII No. 44 May 10, 1919

  FRANK BAUM IS DEAD

  Author of “Wizard of Oz” and Other Books and Plays Passes Away at Hollywood Home

  The funeral of L. Frank Baum, famous author of books for children, was held Friday morning at 10:30 at the “Little Church of the Flowers” at Forest Lawn. Rev. E. P. Ryland of the Mt. Hollywood Congregational church officiated and the “Uplifters” quartet of the Los Angeles Athletic club, all warm personal friends of Mr. Baum, sang several selections. Many of the club and literary friends of the deceased were present.

  Mr. Baum died Tuesday night at his home, 1749 Cherokee avenue, where he has lived for the last eight years, and where he has been bedridden for fifteen months with an affection of the heart. He leaves four sons, two of whom served in the United States Army during the war. Kenneth, the younger of the two, having received his discharge, was at his father’s death bed, as was Robert, but Capt. Frank J. Baum of the Coast Artillery is still in France. The remaining son, Harry, is a resident of Chicago.

  Mr. Baum leaves a book dedicated to every one of his children and grandchildren. The “Wizard of Oz,” perhaps the most liked of all his juvenile stories, was dedicated to his wife. For more than twenty years he had written children’s and other stories for various magazines, including Harper’s, Youth’s Companion and others, as well as plays.

  He was born in Chittenango, N. Y., on May 15, 1856, and received an academic education at Syracuse. In 1882 he married Miss Maud Gage of Fayetteville, N.Y., at which time he had been engaged for two years in newspaper work. He edited the Dakota Pioneer, of Aberdeen, S. D., from 1888 to 1890 and the Show Window, Chicago, from 1897 to 1902.

  His first book was “Mother Goose in Prose,” which appeared in 1897. His other books, in chronological order, were: “By the Candelabra’s Glare” (poems): “Father Goose — His Book,” “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz,” “A New Wonderland.” “The Songs of Father Goose,” “The Army Alphabet.” “The Navy Alphabet,” “American Fairy Tales,” “Dot and Tot of Merryland.” “The Art of Decorating,” “The Master Key,” “The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus,” “Enchanted Isle of Yew,” “The Magical Monarch of Mo.” “The Marvelous Land of Oz,” “The Woggle-Bug Book,” “Queen Zixi of Ix,” ‘Animal Fairy Tales,” “John Dough and the Cherub,” “Ozma of Oz,” “Dorothy and the Wizard,” “Baum’s Fairy Tales,” “The Road to Oz,” “The Emerald City of Oz,” “Baum’s Juvenile Speaker,” “The Sea Fairies,” “The Darling Twins,” “Phoebe Daring,” “Conspirator,” “Sky Island,” “Little Wizard Series,” “Patchwork Girl of Oz,” “Tik-Tok Man of Oz,” “Scarecrow of Oz,” “Rinkitink in Oz,” “Babes in Birland,” “The Lost Princess of Oz,” “The Tin Woodman of Oz.”

  His plays included “The Maid of Arran,” produced in New York in 1881; “‘Matches,” produced in New York in 1882; “Kilmore,” produced in Syracuse in 1884; “The Queen of Killarney,” produced in Rochester in 1885; “The Wizard of Oz,” a musical extravaganza, produced in Chicago in 1902; “The Woggle-Bug,” produced in Chicago in 1905; “The Radio-Play” (motion pictures of “Baum’s Fairy Tales”), produced in Chicago and New York in 1908 and 1909; “Tik-Tok Man of Oz,” produced in Los Angeles in 1913.

  Mr. Baum was a member of the Los Angeles Athletic club, the Chicago Athletic club and the Lambs club of New York, and was greatly beloved by a large circle of friends.

  The Biography

  Maud on her wedding day, 1882

  IN OTHER LANDS THAN OURS by Maud Gage-Baum

  A SERIES OF LETTERS FROM ABROAD

  Edited by L. Frank Baum

  The famous author’s wife, Maud Gage Baum (1861-1953), was the daughter of the suffragist Matilda Joslyn Gage. She was a headstrong and dependable young lady, who lived in Fayetteville, New York, with her aging parents until she married Baum in 1882, sacrificing her college education at Cornell University. At the beginning of their marriage, she accompanied her husband’s acting troupe throughout the United States. After she became pregnant, Maud and Frank settled down in a rented house, where she gave birth to Frank Joslyn in 1883. Due to complications with the birth of her second son Robert Stanton, Maud suffered from peritonitis. Unwell for two years, she recovered following a visit to her mother and siblings.

  Described by her children as a no-nonsense mother, Maud took charge of the family finances and the disciplining of her children. Following the success of the picture book Father Goose: His Book, the family enjoyed financial security for the first time. They began spending their summers at a cottage in Macatawa Park, Michigan. In November of that year, Frank transferred to Maud the literary rights of his most recent books, including Father Goose and From Kansas to Fairyland (destined to be called The Wonderful Wizard of Oz).

  Due to Frank’s literary success and profitable royalties from the 1902 musical Wizard of Oz, Maud and Frank were financially secure enough to tour Egypt, Greece, Italy, North Africa, Switzerland and France for six months. Maud was fascinated by Egypt, where she explored a harem and enthusiastically climbed the Great Pyramid of Giza. As Frank was frequently occupied with writing stories for his publishers, Maud was left to write the numerous letters home. These letters were published a year later under the title In Other Lands Than Ours. Released in a modest quantity, the book was originally intended for friends and family, revealing an intimate portrayal of the couple’s extraordinary adventures.

  Maud Gage, 1880

  Maud Gage Baum and her four sons, Robert, Harry, Kenneth and Frank, 1900

  CONTENTS

  A NOTE BY THE EDITOR

  LETTER I. OUTWARD BOUND — THE AZORES

  LETTER II. GIBRALTAR

  LETTER III. FROM ITALY TO EGYPT

  LETTER IV. CAIRO

  LETTER V. UP THE NILE

  LETTER VI. THE TEMPLES OF EGYPT

  LETTER VII. NUBIA AND THE CATARACT

  LETTER VIII. TAORMINA AND MT. ETNA

  LETTER IX. ANCIENT SYRACUSE

  LETTER X. THROUGH SICILY TO PALERMO

  LETTER XI. NAPLES AND VESUVIUS

  LETTER XII. POMPEII

  LETTER XIII. SORRENTO AND AMALFI

  LETTER XIV. ROME

  LETTER XV. FLORENCE

  LETTER XVI. VENICE

  LETTER XVII. THROUGH SWITZERLAND

  LETTER XVIII. PARIS

  LETTER XIX. SOMEWHERE AT SEA

  LETTER XX. FINAL WORDS AT HOME

  L. Frank and Maud Gage Baum in Egypt, 1906

  A NOTE BY THE EDITOR

  Here is no book of travel to be studied critically by the blasé globe-trotter, but a simple record of a first trip abroad, wherein the sights and scenes are described for the benefit of personal friends
who were involuntary stay-at-homes.

  While we were away my dear wife deemed it a duty as well as a pleasure to write home a series of “general letters” which were passed from one to another of the family circle and read with interest. They have all clamored for copies of some of the letters, which no individual could claim to own; so I decided to have them privately printed, that all members of the family might have a copy “for keeps.”

  My lady has asked me to “edit” her letters, since I have had more experience in writing for publication; but on looking over her simple, straightforward and expressive language I find little chance to improve it. In her enthusiasm she sometimes got a sentence a bit involved, and in a few instances I have straightened out these places; but practically the entire story remains as it should remain — in her own words.

  Her observation of details is to me remarkable, and her artistic instinct rings positive and true. No bit of natural beauty escaped her eager eyes, and much that I had myself forgotten or overlooked comes back to me as I read her letters.

  Others have perhaps written of these things and places in a more scholarly way, but her vivid descriptions of what her own eyes beheld will, I am sure, be treasured by those near and dear friends who love her and rejoice that she had such opportunity to witness these old world scenes, which so evidently delighted her generous and appreciative heart.

  L. FRANK BAUM

  LETTER I. OUTWARD BOUND — THE AZORES

  On Board the “Princess Irene.”

  We delayed our sailing a little to take passage on the steamer “Princess Irene,” of the North German Lloyd Line, because Dr. Harry Baum had praised it so much that we were anxious to test his judgment. So far his judgment is all right. This being our first trip we know nothing about ocean steamers, but this trim craft of some ten thousand tons ought to get us across very comfortably and safely. We have one of the two best staterooms on the ship and seats at a small table in the dining hall.

  Mr. Ellsworth, of the “Century Company,” Dr. Harry and Rob saw us off at the pier, and instead of watching the harbor we went into the writing room as soon as we lost sight of our friends and wrote hasty letters to the folks to be sent back by the pilot. By the time we had finished them and lunched, the shore line was a hazy mist and we realized that our voyage had really begun.

  This is our sixth day at sea, and notwithstanding the fact that we have had stormy weather and high seas neither L. F. nor I have been sea-sick. It was sunny and pleasant when we left New York, but we ran into NorthEast gales and big waves immediately. Sunday was our worst day. Today the sun shines for the first time, but the ocean is still rough — and very beautiful. A large share of the passengers have been ill, and many still have their meals served on deck; so I congratulate myself upon having taken every meal in the dining room and enjoyed them all, too.

  “Life on the ocean wave” is a very lazy existence. A bugle blows at eight to waken us. It gives us half an hour to prepare for breakfast, but generally we don’t get up until the second bugle, which announces breakfast at nine. After eating we go on deck to walk, read or doze, as the mood strikes us. At ten o’clock there is a band concert; at eleven we are served bouillon, crackers, cheese and tongue sandwiches; at one o’clock luncheon is ready, and strange as it may seem we are ready for it. Again we lounge around, reading, writing or chatting with fellow passengers, until afternoon tea overtakes us at four thirty. Then we dress leisurely for a ten or twelve course dinner at seven o’clock, which we devour eagerly because we feel we are nearly famished. Afterward they serve us coffee in the smoking-room, a pleasant place where many of the ladies go with their husbands or escorts to play cards until bed-time.

  That is the way one day follows another. The salt breeze makes us lazy and hungry, and no one is ashamed because we are all in the same boat, so to speak.

  We are due at the Azores tomorrow, but the “Irene” doesn’t stop there. Owing to persistent “head winds” we are behind time, and if we are unable to make it up, we shall only stop at Gibraltar long enough to deliver mail. Otherwise we are scheduled to stay there four or five hours, which would give everyone a chance to go ashore.

  The voyage has rested me and so restored my strength that I am feeling quite myself again. L. F. is thoroughly enjoying himself. We are due to reach Naples February 8th, and leave on the ninth for Alexandria on another boat of the same line. It is a three days’ trip across the end of the Mediterranean, after which we take rail from Alexandria to Cairo. I shall not write again until we get there, but will probably add to this letter from time to time.

  Just now we are fourteen hours late, and the head winds still continue; so we do not yet know whether we shall stop at Gibraltar or not.

  We have now been more than a week on the ocean, and it will be a week longer before we set eyes on Cairo. If we are on time we may stop a day in Naples, but it now looks as though we would just be able to catch our boat there.

  Yesterday we sailed past the Azores, to the enjoyment of every one on board. Part of the time we were so near the land that we were able to see the people distinctly.

  I have learned some very interesting things about these islands, which may entertain you as much as they did me. They have a total population of 259,790. San Miguel is the largest island, but we did not get very near to that one. First we passed Fayal, its principal town being Hutre, which showed plainly, lying as it does close to the shore. Most of the houses are white, with square windows — such as the children draw. Every inch of ground is cultivated, even to the tops of the mountains. The farms are divided into small patches surrounded by hedges, and from the boat the effect is unique. The tiny squares reminded me of a crazy-quilt — all in browns and greens — but it seemed very Picturesque and beautiful, and restful to the eyes after so many days of “watery landscape.”

  The Azores are doubtless of volcanic origin, and the craters must have been active up to a comparatively recent date. There are also evidences of the Glacial Epoch in their wonderful rocks. Near Fayal, for example, was a most peculiar rock — an immense round grey mass with a hollow or dent in the top which must have been at one time a crater. It was separate from the island and stood alone in the water. L. F. took some snap shots of the islands, which I hope will prove good.

  We passed quite near to the island of Pico, which has the highest mountain in all the group. The clouds rested upon its top while the slanting sun brightened the white houses scattered upon its slopes. Another island we saw plainly was San Jorge, and here the mail was thrown overboard, after being placed in a tin box tightly enclosed in a wooden one to allow it to float. A boat is supposed to put out from San Jorge and pick up this odd mail box; but sometimes the boat fails to find it. On account of the postal service being so uncertain at this point we merely entrusted it with some postals for the boys.

  The climate of the Azores is delightful; the air is clear and brisk and the soil very fertile. Both European and tropical fruits flourish there, and the oranges of San Miguel are considered the finest in all the world. Grain is harvested twice a year, in May and October. We found the fields already a beautiful green, and the islands were certainly very charming to the view. They seem to fit our dreamy mood, and we would like to land and wander for a few days amid the hedge-rows and fields, and forget the busy world we have just left and the famous one for which we are bound.

  LETTER II. GIBRALTAR

  L. F. and I, half reclining in our comfortable deck chairs, are sailing on the bosom of the Mediterranean, with the band playing gaily and the bright sunshine all around us. But my thoughts are flown to all the dear ones at home, and especially to my boys, from whom it will be some time before I can hear. I find myself wondering what you are all doing, and it seems strange that I should be so far away and removed from the life with which we are all so familiar.

  We should have been in Naples this morning, but are over twenty-four hours late; so when we reach there we will not land at all, but get aboard a lighter and be trans
ferred with our baggage to the “Hohenzollern,” which is the steamer that will carry us to Alexandria. It will be waiting, and at once start on the three or four days’ trip across the stormiest end of the Mediterranean. We shall not stop at Alexandria now, but board a train for a few hours’ run to Cairo.

  Monday night we left the Atlantic and entered the Straits of Gibraltar. We are glad we arrived there at night, for it was a pretty sight to watch the two or three lighthouses on either side of us — Spain on the left and Africa with its mountains on the right. A full moon was over us, and the effect was beautiful.

  We reached Gibraltar at midnight, and anchored until morning. We were up early, you may be sure, and saw the sun rise on the great Rock. It was an imposing sight, for then the Rock of Gibraltar impresses you with its majesty and vastness. I do not wonder the ancients thought it was the end of the world.

  A lighter left our steamer at eight o’clock and took nearly every passenger over to “Gib.” L. F. and I were the first to enter the town. It was our first step upon the soil of the old world. We found the place very quaint and “foreign” in appearance. The streets were wonderfully narrow. One little girl told her father the streets were “thin,” which expressed it very neatly, I think. Two of the funny little carts they have there can barely pass each other. We walked through the town, stopped at the post-office and shopped a little. Then we took a carriage and drove all over the town. The carriage was yellow and had two seats with a queer hood over them. It is so low and open that one can easily step out upon the pavement. In front is the driver’s seat, and our jehu was a very accommodating Englishman who pointed out everything of interest and explained it to us. We drove an hour and a half for one dollar. We were allowed to enter only a bit of the fortress and were forbidden to take pictures of it or any part of the fortifications. The Rock is pierced from top to bottom on all sides, and a gun placed in each opening. It does not seem to me that it could possibly be taken by an enemy, and while England holds it, it holds the key to the Mediterranean. Inside the rock are tunnels so that the soldiers can pass from one part of it to another without showing themselves.