The Classic Children's Literature Collection: 39 Classic Novels

by Various Authors

  “Ladies and gentlemen and beasts,” he said, “I beg to announce that our Gracious Ruler has permitted me to obey the commands of the great Sorceress, Glinda the Good, whose humble Assistant I am proud to be. We have discovered that the Crooked Magician has been indulging in his magical arts contrary to Law, and therefore, by Royal Edict, I hereby deprive him of all power to work magic in the future. He is no longer a crooked magician, but a simple Munchkin; he is no longer even crooked, but a man like other men.”

  As he pronounced these words the Wizard waved his hand toward Dr. Pipt and instantly every crooked limb straightened out and became perfect. The former magician, with a cry of joy, sprang to his feet, looked at himself in wonder, and then fell back in his chair and watched the Wizard with fascinated interest.

  “The Glass Cat, which Dr. Pipt lawlessly made,” continued the Wizard, “is a pretty cat, but its pink brains made it so conceited that it was a disagreeable companion to everyone. So the other day I took away the pink brains and replaced them with transparent ones, and now the Glass Cat is so modest and well behaved that Ozma has decided to keep her in the palace as a pet.”

  “I thank you,” said the cat, in a soft voice.

  “The Woozy has proved himself a good Woozy and a faithful friend,” the Wizard went on, “so we will send him to the Royal Menagerie, where he will have good care and plenty to eat all his life.”

  “Much obliged,” said the Woozy. “That beats being fenced up in a lonely forest and starved.”

  “As for the Patchwork Girl,” resumed the Wizard, “she is so remarkable in appearance, and so clever and good tempered, that our Gracious Ruler intends to preserve her carefully, as one of the curiosities of the curious Land of Oz. Scraps may live in the palace, or wherever she pleases, and be nobody’s servant but her own.”

  “That’s all right,” said Scraps.

  “We have all been interested in Ojo,” the little Wizard continued, “because his love for his unfortunate uncle has led him bravely to face all sorts of dangers, in order that he might rescue him. The Munchkin boy has a loyal and generous heart and has done his best to restore Unc Nunkie to life. He has failed, but there are others more powerful than the Crooked Magician, and there are more ways than Dr. Pipt knew of to destroy the charm of the Liquid of Petrifaction. Glinda the Good has told me of one way, and you shall now learn how great is the knowledge and power of our peerless Sorceress.”

  As he said this the Wizard advanced to the statue of Margolote and made a magic pass, at the same time muttering a magic word that none could hear distinctly. At once the woman moved, turned her head wonderingly this way and that, to note all who stood before her, and seeing Dr. Pipt, ran forward and threw herself into her husband’s outstretched arms.

  Then the Wizard made the magic pass and spoke the magic word before the statue of Unc Nunkie. The old Munchkin immediately came to life and with a low bow to the Wizard said: “Thanks.”

  But now Ojo rushed up and threw his arms joyfully about his uncle, and the old man hugged his little nephew tenderly and stroked his hair and wiped away the boy’s tears with a handkerchief, for Ojo was crying from pure happiness.

  Ozma came forward to congratulate them.

  “I have given to you, my dear Ojo and Unc Nunkie, a nice house just outside the walls of the Emerald City,” she said, “and there you shall make your future home and be under my protection.”

  “Didn’t I say you were Ojo the Lucky?” asked the Tin Woodman, as everyone crowded around to shake Ojo’s hand.

  “Yes; and it is true!” replied Ojo, gratefully.

  Little Wizard Stories of Oz L. Frank Baum

  THE COWARDLY LION AND THE HUNGRY TIGER

  In the splendid palace of the Emerald City, which is in the center of the fairy Land of Oz, is a great Throne Room, where Princess Ozma, the Ruler, for an hour each day sits in a throne of glistening emeralds and listens to all the troubles of her people, which they are sure to tell her about. Around Ozma’s throne, on such occasions, are grouped all the important personages of Oz, such as the Scarecrow, Jack Pumpkinhead, Tiktok the Clockwork Man, the Tin Woodman, the Wizard of Oz, the Shaggy Man and other famous fairy people. Little Dorothy usually has a seat at Ozma’s feet, and crouched on either side the throne are two enormous beasts known as the Hungry Tiger and the Cowardly Lion.

  These two beasts are Ozma’s chief guardians, but as everyone loves the beautiful girl Princess there has never been any disturbance in the great Throne Room, or anything for the guardians to do but look fierce and solemn and keep quiet until the Royal Audience is over and the people go away to their homes.

  Of course no one would dare be naughty while the huge Lion and Tiger crouched beside the throne; but the fact is, the people of Oz are very seldom naughty. So Ozma’s big guards are more ornamental than useful, and no one realizes that better than the beasts themselves.

  One day, after everybody had left the Throne Room except the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger, the Lion yawned and said to his friend:

  “I’m getting tired of this job. No one is afraid of us and no one pays any attention to us.”

  “That is true,” replied the big Tiger, purring softly. “We might as well be in the thick jungles where we were born, as trying to protect Ozma when she needs no protection. And I’m dreadfully hungry all the time.”

  “You have enough to eat, I’m sure,” said the Lion, swaying his tail slowly back and forth.

  “Enough, perhaps; but not the kind of food I long for,” answered the Tiger. “What I’m hungry for is fat babies. I have a great desire to eat a few fat babies. Then, perhaps, the people of Oz would fear me and I’d become more important.”

  “True,” agreed the Lion. “It would stir up quite a rumpus if you ate but one fat baby. As for myself; my claws are sharp as needles and strong as crowbars, while my teeth are powerful enough to tear a person to pieces in a few seconds. If I should spring upon a man and make chop suey of him, there would be wild excitement in the Emerald City and the people would fall upon their knees and beg me for mercy. That, in my opinion, would render me of considerable importance.”

  “After you had torn the person to pieces, what would you do next?” asked the Tiger sleepily.

  “Then I would roar so loudly it would shake the earth and stalk away to the jungle to hide myself, before anyone could attack me or kill me for what I had done.”

  “I see,” nodded the Tiger. “You are really cowardly.”

  “To be sure. That is why I am named the Cowardly Lion. That is why I have always been so tame and peaceable. But I’m awfully tired of being tame,” added the Lion, with a sigh, “and it would be fun to raise a row and show people what a terrible beast I really am.”

  The Tiger remained silent for several minutes, thinking deeply as he slowly washed his face with his left paw. Then he said:

  “I’m getting old, and it would please me to eat at least one fat baby before I die. Suppose we surprise these people of Oz and prove our power. What do you say? We will walk out of here just as usual and the first baby we meet I’ll eat in a jiffy, and the first man or woman you meet you will tear to pieces. Then we will both run out of the city gates and gallop across the country and hide in the jungle before anyone can stop us.”

  “All right; I’m game,” said the Lion, yawning again so that he showed two rows of dreadfully sharp teeth.

  The Tiger got up and stretched his great, sleek body.

  “Come on,” he said. The Lion stood up and proved he was the larger of the two, for he was almost as big as a small horse.

  Out of the palace they walked, and met no one. They passed through the beautiful grounds, past fountains and beds of lovely flowers, and met no one. Then they unlatched a gate and entered a street of the city, and met no one.

  “I wonder how a fat baby will taste,” remarked the Tiger, as they stalked majesticall
y along, side by side.

  “I imagine it will taste like nutmegs,” said the Lion.

  “No,” said the Tiger, “I’ve an idea it will taste like gumdrops.”

  They turned a corner, but met no one, for the people of the Emerald City were accustomed to take their naps at this hour of the afternoon.

  “I wonder how many pieces I ought to tear a person into,” said the Lion, in a thoughtful voice.

  “Sixty would be about right,” suggested the Tiger.

  “Would that hurt any more than to tear one into about a dozen pieces?” inquired the Lion, with a little shudder.

  “Who cares whether it hurts or not?” growled the Tiger.

  The Lion did not reply. They entered a side street, but met no one.

  Suddenly they heard a child crying.

  “Aha!” exclaimed the Tiger. “There is my meat.”

  He rushed around a corner, the Lion following, and came upon a nice fat baby sitting in the middle of the street and crying as if in great distress.

  “What’s the matter?” asked the Tiger, crouching before the baby.

  “I—I—I-lost my m-m-mamma!” wailed the baby.

  “Why, you poor little thing,” said the great beast, softly stroking the child’s head with its paw. “Don’t cry, my dear, for mamma can’t be far away and I’ll help you to find her.”

  “Go on,” said the Lion, who stood by.

  “Go on where?” asked the Tiger, looking up.

  “Go on and eat your fat baby.”

  “Why, you dreadful creature!” said the Tiger reproachfully; “would you want me to eat a poor little lost baby, that doesn’t know where its mother is?” And the beast gathered the little one into its strong, hairy arms and tried to comfort it by rocking it gently back and forth.

  The Lion growled low in his throat and seemed very much disappointed; but at that moment a scream reached their ears and a woman came bounding out of a house and into the street. Seeing her baby in the embrace of the monster Tiger the woman screamed again and rushed forward to rescue it, but in her haste she caught her foot in her skirt and tumbled head over heels and heels over head, stopping with such a bump that she saw many stars in the heavens, although it was broad daylight. And there she lay, in a helpless manner, all tangled up and unable to stir.

  With one bound and a roar like thunder the huge Lion was beside her. With his strong jaws he grasped her dress and raised her into an upright position.

  “Poor thing! Are you hurt?” he gently asked.

  Gasping for breath the woman struggled to free herself and tried to walk, but she limped badly and tumbled down again.

  “My baby!” she said pleadingly.

  “The baby is all right; don’t worry,” replied the Lion; and then he added: “Keep quiet, now, and I’ll carry you back to your house, and the Hungry Tiger will carry your baby.”

  The Tiger, who had approached the place with the child in its arms, asked in astonishment:

  “Aren’t you going to tear her into sixty pieces?”

  “No, nor into six pieces,” answered the Lion indignantly. “I’m not such a brute as to destroy a poor woman who has hurt herself trying to save her lost baby. If you are so ferocious and cruel and bloodthirsty, you may leave me and go away, for I do not care to associate with you.”

  “That’s all right,” answered the Tiger. “I’m not cruel—not in the least—I’m only hungry. But I thought you were cruel.”

  “Thank heaven I’m respectable,” said the Lion, with dignity. He then raised the woman and with much gentleness carried her into her house, where he laid her upon a sofa. The Tiger followed with the baby, which he safely deposited beside its mother. The little one liked the Hungry Tiger and grasping the enormous beast by both ears the baby kissed the beast’s nose to show he was grateful and happy.

  “Thank you very much,” said the woman. “I’ve often heard what good beasts you are, in spite of your power to do mischief to mankind, and now I know that the stories are true. I do not think either of you have ever had an evil thought.”

  The Hungry Tiger and the Cowardly Lion hung their heads and did not look into each other’s eyes, for both were shamed and humbled. They crept away and stalked back through the streets until they again entered the palace grounds, where they retreated to the pretty, comfortable rooms they occupied at the back of the palace. There they silently crouched in their usual corners to think over their adventure.

  After a while the Tiger said sleepily:

  “I don’t believe fat babies taste like gumdrops. I’m quite sure they have the flavor of raspberry tarts. My, how hungry I am for fat babies!”

  The Lion grunted disdainfully.

  “You’re a humbug,” said he.

  “Am I?” retorted the Tiger, with a sneer. “Tell me, then, into how many pieces you usually tear your victims, my bold Lion?”

  The Lion impatiently thumped the floor with his tail.

  “To tear anyone into pieces would soil my claws and blunt my teeth,” he said. “I’m glad I didn’t muss myself up this afternoon by hurting that poor mother.”

  The Tiger looked at him steadily and then yawned a wide, wide yawn.

  “You’re a coward,” he remarked.

  “Well,” said the Lion, “it’s better to be a coward than to do wrong.”

  “To be sure,” answered the other. “And that reminds me that I nearly lost my own reputation. For, had I eaten that fat baby I would not now be the Hungry Tiger. It’s better to go hungry, seems to me, than to be cruel to a little child.”

  And then they dropped their heads on their paws and went to sleep.

  LITTLE DOROTHY AND TOTO

  DOROTHY was a little Kansas girl who once accidentally found the beautiful Land of Oz and was invited to live there always. Toto was Dorothy’s small black dog, with fuzzy, curly hair and bright black eyes. Together, when they tired of the grandeur of the Emerald City of Oz, they would wander out into the country and all through the land, peering into queer nooks and corners and having a good time in their own simple way. There was a little Wizard living in Oz who was a faithful friend of Dorothy and did not approve of her traveling alone in this way, but the girl always laughed at the little man’s fears for her and said she was not afraid of anything that might happen.

  One day while on such a journey, Dorothy and Toto found themselves among the wild wooded hills at the southeast of Oz—a place usually avoided by travelers because so many magical things abounded there. And, as they entered a forest path, the little girl noticed a sign tacked to a tree, which said: “Look out for Crinklink.”

  Toto could not talk, as many of the animals of Oz can, for he was just a common Kansas dog; but he looked at the sign so seriously that Dorothy almost believed he could read it, and she knew quite well that Toto understood every word she said to him.

  “Never mind Crinklink,” said she. “I don’t believe anything in Oz will try to hurt us, Toto, and if I get into trouble you must take care of me.”

  “Bow-wow!” said Toto, and Dorothy knew that meant a promise.

  The path was narrow and wound here and there between the trees, but they could not lose their way, because thick vines and creepers shut them in on both sides. They had walked a long time when, suddenly turning a curve of the pathway, they came upon a lake of black water, so big and so deep that they were forced to stop.

  “Well, Toto,” said Dorothy, looking at the lake, “we must turn back, I guess, for there is neither a bridge nor a boat to take us across the black water.”

  “Here’s the ferryman, though,” cried a tiny voice beside them, and the girl gave a start and looked down at her feet, where a man no taller than three inches sat at the edge of the path with his legs dangling over the lake.

  “Oh!” said Dorothy; “I didn’t see you before.”

  Toto
growled fiercely and made his ears stand up straight, but the little man did not seem in the least afraid of the dog. He merely repeated: “I’m the ferryman, and it’s my business to carry people across the lake.”

  Dorothy couldn’t help feeling surprised, for she could have picked the little man up with one hand, and the lake was big and broad. Looking at the ferryman more closely she saw that he had small eyes, a big nose, and a sharp chin. His hair was blue and his clothes scarlet, and Dorothy noticed that every button on his jacket was the head of some animal. The top button was a bear’s head and the next button a wolf’s head; the next was a cat’s head and the next a weasel’s head, while the last button of all was the head of a field-mouse. When Dorothy looked into the eyes of these animals’ heads, they all nodded and said in a chorus: “Don’t believe all you hear, little girl!”

  “Silence!” said the small ferryman, slapping each button head in turn, but not hard enough to hurt them. Then he turned to Dorothy and asked: “Do you wish to cross over the lake?”

  “Why, I’d like to,” she answered, hesitating; “but I can’t see how you will manage to carry us, without any boat.”

  “If you can’t see, you mustn’t see,” he answered with a laugh. “All you need do is shut your eyes, say the word, and—over you go!”

  Dorothy wanted to get across, in order that she might continue her journey.

  “All right,” she said, closing her eyes; “I’m ready.”

  Instantly she was seized in a pair of strong arms—arms so big and powerful that she was startled and cried out in fear.