“Who are you, little ones?”
“We’re the Graham Gems,” replied one; “and we’re all twins.”
“I wonder if your mother could spare one or two of you?” asked Billina, who decided that they were fresh baked; but at this dangerous question the six little gems ran away as fast as they could go.
“You musn’t say such things, Billina,” said Dorothy, reprovingly. “Now let’s go into Pop Over’s back yard and get the waffles.”
“I sort of hate to let that fence go,” remarked Mr. Over, nervously, as they walked toward his house. “The neighbors back of us are Soda Biscuits, and I don’t care to mix with them.”
“But I’m hungry yet,” declared the girl. “That wheelbarrow wasn’t very big.”
“I’ve got a shortcake piano, but none of my family can play on it,” he said, reflectively. “Suppose you eat that.”
“All right,” said Dorothy; “I don’t mind. Anything to be accommodating.”
So Mr. Over led her into the house, where she ate the piano, which was of an excellent flavor.
“Is there anything to drink here?” she asked.
“Yes; I’ve a milk pump and a water pump; which will you have?” he asked.
“I guess I’ll try ‘em both,” said Dorothy.
So Mr. Over called to his wife, who brought into the yard a pail made of some kind of baked dough, and Dorothy pumped the pail full of cool, sweet milk and drank it eagerly.
The wife of Pop Over was several shades darker than her husband.
“Aren’t you overdone?” the little girl asked her.
“No indeed,” answered the woman. “I’m neither overdone nor done over; I’m just Mrs. Over, and I’m the President of the Bunbury Breakfast Band.”
Dorothy thanked them for their hospitality and went away. At the gate Mr. Cinnamon Bunn met her and said he would show her around the town. “We have some very interesting inhabitants,” he remarked, walking stiffly beside her on his stick-cinnamon legs; “and all of us who are in good health are well bred. If you are no longer hungry we will call upon a few of the most important citizens.”
Toto and Billina followed behind them, behaving very well, and a little way down the street they came to a handsome residence where Aunt Sally Lunn lived. The old lady was glad to meet the little girl and gave her a slice of white bread and butter which had been used as a door-mat. It was almost fresh and tasted better than anything Dorothy had eaten in the town.
“Where do you get the butter?” she inquired.
“We dig it out of the ground, which, as you may have observed, is all flour and meal,” replied Mr. Bunn. “There is a butter mine just at the opposite side of the village. The trees which you see here are all doughleanders and doughderas, and in the season we get quite a crop of dough-nuts off them.”
“I should think the flour would blow around and get into your eyes,” said Dorothy.
“No,” said he; “we are bothered with cracker dust sometimes, but never with flour.”
Then he took her to see Johnny Cake, a cheerful old gentleman who lived near by.
“I suppose you’ve heard of me,” said old Johnny, with an air of pride. “I’m a great favorite all over the world.”
“Aren’t you rather yellow?” asked Dorothy, looking at him critically.
“Maybe, child. But don’t think I’m bilious, for I was never in better health in my life,” replied the old gentleman. “If anything ailed me, I’d willingly acknowledge the corn.”
“Johnny’s a trifle stale,” said Mr. Bunn, as they went away; “but he’s a good mixer and never gets cross-grained. I will now take you to call upon some of my own relatives.” They visited the Sugar Bunns, the Currant Bunns and the Spanish Bunns, the latter having a decidedly foreign appearance. Then they saw the French Rolls, who were very polite to them, and made a brief call upon the Parker H. Rolls, who seemed a bit proud and overbearing.
“But they’re not as stuck up as the Frosted Jumbles,” declared Mr. Bunn, “who are people I really can’t abide. I don’t like to be suspicious or talk scandal, but sometimes I think the Jumbles have too much baking powder in them.”
Just then a dreadful scream was heard, and Dorothy turned hastily around to find a scene of great excitement a little way down the street. The people were crowding around Toto and throwing at him everything they could find at hand. They pelted the little dog with hard-tack, crackers, and even articles of furniture which were hard baked and heavy enough for missiles.
Toto howeled a little as the assortment of bake stuff struck him; but he stood still, with head bowed and tail between his legs, until Dorothy ran up and inquired what the matter was.
“Matter!” cried a rye loafer, indignantly, “why the horrid beast has eaten three of our dear Crumpets, and is now devouring a Salt-rising Biscuit!”
“Oh, Toto! How could you?” exclaimed Dorothy, much distressed.
Toto’s mouth was full of his salt-rising victim; so he only whined and wagged his tail. But Billina, who had flown to the top of a cracker house to be in a safe place, called out:
“Don’t blame him, Dorothy; the Crumpets dared him to do it.”
“Yes, and you pecked out the eyes of a Raisin Bunn—one of our best citizens!” shouted a bread pudding, shaking its fist at the Yellow Hen.
“What’s that! What’s that?” wailed Mr. Cinnamon Bunn, who had now joined them. “Oh, what a misfortune—what a terrible misfortune!”
“See here,” said Dorothy, determined to defend her pets, “I think we’ve treated you all pretty well, seeing you’re eatables an’ reg’lar food for us. I’ve been kind to you and eaten your old wheelbarrows and pianos and rubbish, an’ not said a word. But Toto and Billina can’t be ‘spected to go hungry when the town’s full of good things they like to eat, ‘cause they can’t understand your stingy ways as I do.”
“You must leave here at once!” said Mr. Bunn, sternly.
“Suppose we won’t go?” said Dorothy, who was now much provoked.
“Then,” said he, “we will put you into the great ovens where we are made, and bake you.”
Dorothy gazed around and saw threatening looks upon the faces of all. She had not noticed any ovens in the town, but they might be there, nevertheless, for some of the inhabitants seemed very fresh. So she decided to go, and calling to Toto and Billina to follow her she marched up the street with as much dignity as possible, considering that she was followed by the hoots and cries of the buns and biscuits and other bake stuff.
18. How Ozma Looked into the Magic Picture
Princess Ozma was a very busy little ruler, for she looked carefully after the comfort and welfare of her people and tried to make them happy. If any quarrels arose she decided them justly; if any one needed counsel or advice she was ready and willing to listen to them.
For a day or two after Dorothy and her companions had started on their trip, Ozma was occupied with the affairs of her kingdom. Then she began to think of some manner of occupation for Uncle Henry and Aunt Em that would be light and easy and yet give the old people something to do.
She soon decided to make Uncle Henry the Keeper of the Jewels, for some one really was needed to count and look after the bins and barrels of emeralds, diamonds, rubies and other precious stones that were in the Royal Storehouses. That would keep Uncle Henry busy enough, but it was harder to find something for Aunt Em to do. The palace was full of servants, so there was no detail of housework that Aunt Em could look after.
While Ozma sat in her pretty room engaged in thought she happened to glance at her Magic Picture.
This was one of the most important treasures in all the Land of Oz. It was a large picture, set in a beautiful gold frame, and it hung in a prominent place upon a wall of Ozma’s private room.
Usually this picture seemed merely a country scene, but whenever Ozma
looked at it and wished to know what any of her friends or acquaintances were doing, the magic of this wonderful picture was straightway disclosed. For the country scene would gradually fade away and in its place would appear the likeness of the person or persons Ozma might wish to see, surrounded by the actual scenes in which they were then placed. In this way the Princess could view any part of the world she wished, and watch the actions of any one in whom she was interested.
Ozma had often seen Dorothy in her Kansas home by this means, and now, having a little leisure, she expressed a desire to see her little friend again. It was while the travelers were at Fuddlecumjig, and Ozma laughed merrily as she watched in the picture her friends trying to match the pieces of Grandmother Gnit.
“They seem happy and are doubtless having a good time,” the girl Ruler said to herself; and then she began to think of the many adventures she herself had encountered with Dorothy.
The image of her friends now faded from the Magic Picture and the old landscape slowly reappeared.
Ozma was thinking of the time when with Dorothy and her army she marched to the Nome King’s underground cavern, beyond the Land of Ev, and forced the old monarch to liberate his captives, who belonged to the Royal Family of Ev. That was the time when the Scarecrow nearly frightened the Nome King into fits by throwing one of Billina’s eggs at him, and Dorothy had captured King Roquat’s Magic Belt and brought it away with her to the Land of Oz.
The pretty Princess smiled at the recollection of this adventure, and then she wondered what had become of the Nome King since then. Merely because she was curious and had nothing better to do, Ozma glanced at the Magic Picture and wished to see in it the King of the Nomes.
Roquat the Red went every day into his tunnel to see how the work was getting along and to hurry his workmen as much as possible. He was there now, and Ozma saw him plainly in the Magic Picture.
She saw the underground tunnel, reaching far underneath the Deadly Desert which separated the Land of Oz from the mountains beneath which the Nome King had his extensive caverns. She saw that the tunnel was being made in the direction of the Emerald City, and knew at once it was being dug so that the army of Nomes could march through it and attack her own beautiful and peaceful country.
“I suppose King Roquat is planning revenge against us,” she said, musingly, “and thinks he can surprise us and make us his captives and slaves. How sad it is that any one can have such wicked thoughts! But I must not blame King Roquat too severely, for he is a Nome, and his nature is not so gentle as my own.”
Then she dismissed from her mind further thought of the tunnel, for that time, and began to wonder if Aunt Em would not be happy as Royal Mender of the Stockings of the Ruler of Oz. Ozma wore few holes in her stockings; still, they sometimes needed mending. Aunt Em ought to be able to do that very nicely.
Next day, the Princess watched the tunnel again in her Magic Picture, and every day afterward she devoted a few minutes to inspecting the work. It was not especially interesting, but she felt that it was her duty.
Slowly but surely the big, arched hole crept through the rocks underneath the deadly desert, and day by day it drew nearer and nearer to the Emerald City.
19. How Bunnybury Welcomed the Strangers
Dorothy left Bunbury the same way she had entered it and when they were in the forest again she said to Billina:
“I never thought that things good to eat could be so dis’gree’ble.”
“Often I’ve eaten things that tasted good but were disagreeable afterward,” returned the Yellow Hen. “I think, Dorothy, if eatables are going to act badly, it’s better before than after you eat them.”
“P’raps you’re right,” said the little girl, with a sigh. “But what shall we do now?”
“Let us follow the path back to the signpost,” suggested Billina. “That will be better than getting lost again.”
“Why, we’re lost anyhow,” declared Dorothy; “but I guess you’re right about going back to that signpost, Billina.”
They returned along the path to the place where they had first found it, and at once took “the other road” to Bunnybury. This road was a mere narrow strip, worn hard and smooth but not wide enough for Dorothy’s feet to tread. Still, it was a guide, and the walking through the forest was not at all difficult.
Before long they reached a high wall of solid white marble, and the path came to an end at this wall.
At first Dorothy thought there was no opening at all in the marble, but on looking closely she discovered a small square door about on a level with her head, and underneath this closed door was a bell-push. Near the bell-push a sign was painted in neat letters upon the marble, and the sign read:
NO ADMITTANCE
EXCEPT ON BUSINESS
This did not discourage Dorothy, however, and she rang the bell.
Pretty soon a bolt was cautiously withdrawn and the marble door swung slowly open. Then she saw it was not really a door, but a window, for several brass bars were placed across it, being set fast in the marble and so close together that the little girl’s fingers might barely go between them. Back of the bars appeared the face of a white rabbit—a very sober and sedate face—with an eye-glass held in his left eye and attached to a cord in his button-hole.
“Well! what is it?” asked the rabbit, sharply.
“I’m Dorothy,” said the girl, “and I’m lost, and—”
“State your business, please,” interrupted the rabbit.
“My business,” she replied, “is to find out where I am, and to—”
“No one is allowed in Bunnybury without an order or a letter of introduction from either Ozma of Oz or Glinda the Good,” announced the rabbit; “so that settles the matter,” and he started to close the window.
“Wait a minute!” cried Dorothy. “I’ve got a letter from Ozma.”
“From the Ruler of Oz?” asked the rabbit, doubtingly.
“Of course. Ozma’s my best friend, you know; and I’m a Princess myself,” she announced, earnestly.
“Hum—ha! Let me see your letter,” returned the rabbit, as if he still doubted her.
So she hunted in her pocket and found the letter Ozma had given her. Then she handed it through the bars to the rabbit, who took it in his paws and opened it. He read it aloud in a pompous voice, as if to let Dorothy and Billina see that he was educated and could read writing. The letter was as follows:
“It will please me to have my subjects greet Princess Dorothy, the bearer of this royal missive, with the same courtesy and consideration they would extend to me.”
“Ha—hum! It is signed ‘Ozma of Oz,’” continued the rabbit, “and is sealed with the Great Seal of the Emerald City. Well, well, well! How strange! How remarkable!”
“What are you going to do about it?” inquired Dorothy, impatiently.
“We must obey the royal mandate,” replied the rabbit. “We are subjects of Ozma of Oz, and we live in her country. Also we are under the protection of the great Sorceress Glinda the Good, who made us promise to respect Ozma’s commands.”
“Then may I come in?” she asked.
“I’ll open the door,” said the rabbit. He shut the window and disappeared, but a moment afterward a big door in the wall opened and admitted Dorothy to a small room, which seemed to be a part of the wall and built into it.
Here stood the rabbit she had been talking with, and now that she could see all of him, she gazed at the creature in surprise. He was a good sized white rabbit with pink eyes, much like all other white rabbits. But the astonishing thing about him was the manner in which he was dressed. He wore a white satin jacket embroidered with gold, and having diamond buttons. His vest was rose-colored satin, with tourmaline buttons. His trousers were white, to correspond with the jacket, and they were baggy at the knees—like those of a zouave—being tied with knots of rose ribbons. His shoes
were of white plush with diamond buckles, and his stockings were rose silk.
The richness and even magnificence of the rabbit’s clothing made Dorothy stare at the little creature wonderingly. Toto and Billina had followed her into the room and when he saw them the rabbit ran to a table and sprang upon it nimbly. Then he looked at the three through his monocle and said:
“These companions, Princess, cannot enter Bunnybury with you.”
“Why not?” asked Dorothy.
“In the first place they would frighten our people, who dislike dogs above all things on earth; and, secondly, the letter of the Royal Ozma does not mention them.”
“But they’re my friends,” persisted Dorothy, “and go wherever I go.”
“Not this time,” said the rabbit, decidedly. “You, yourself, Princess, are a welcome visitor, since you come so highly recommended; but unless you consent to leave the dog and the hen in this room I cannot permit you to enter the town.”
“Never mind us, Dorothy,” said Billina. “Go inside and see what the place is like. You can tell us about it afterward, and Toto and I will rest comfortably here until you return.”
This seemed the best thing to do, for Dorothy was curious to see how the rabbit people lived and she was aware of the fact that her friends might frighten the timid little creatures. She had not forgotten how Toto and Billina had misbehaved in Bunbury, and perhaps the rabbit was wise to insist on their staying outside the town.
“Very well,” she said, “I’ll go in alone. I s’pose you’re the King of this town, aren’t you?”
“No,” answered the rabbit, “I’m merely the Keeper of the Wicket, and a person of little importance, although I try to do my duty. I must now inform you, Princess, that before you enter our town you must consent to reduce.”
“Reduce what?” asked Dorothy.
The Classic Children's Literature Collection: 39 Classic Novels Page 189