The Classic Children's Literature Collection: 39 Classic Novels

by Various Authors

  CHAPTER 17.THE MEETING

  While the Frogman and his party were advancing from the west, Dorothy and her party were advancing from the east, and so it happened that on the following night they all camped at a little hill that was only a few miles from the wicker castle of Ugu the Shoemaker. But the two parties did not see one another that night, for one camped on one side of the hill while the other camped on the opposite side. But the next morning, the Frogman thought he would climb the hill and see what was on top of it, and at the same time Scraps, the Patchwork Girl, also decided to climb the hill to find if the wicker castle was visible from its top. So she stuck her head over an edge just as the Frogman’s head appeared over another edge, and both, being surprised, kept still while they took a good look at one another.

  Scraps recovered from her astonishment first, and bounding upward, she turned a somersault and landed sitting down and facing the big Frogman, who slowly advanced and sat opposite her. “Well met, Stranger!” cried the Patchwork Girl with a whoop of laughter. “You are quite the funniest individual I have seen in all my travels.”

  “Do you suppose I can be any funnier than you?” asked the Frogman, gazing at her in wonder.

  “I’m not funny to myself, you know,” returned Scraps. “I wish I were. And perhaps you are so used to your own absurd shape that you do not laugh whenever you see your reflection in a pool or in a mirror.”

  “No,” said the Frogman gravely, “I do not. I used to be proud of my great size and vain of my culture and education, but since I bathed in the Truth Pond, I sometimes think it is not right that I should be different from all other frogs.”

  “Right or wrong,” said the Patchwork Girl, “to be different is to be distinguished. Now in my case, I’m just like all other Patchwork Girls because I’m the only one there is. But tell me, where did you come from?”

  “The Yip Country,” said he.

  “Is that in the Land of Oz?”

  “Of course,” replied the Frogman.

  “And do you know that your Ruler, Ozma of Oz, has been stolen?”

  “I was not aware that I had a Ruler, so of course I couldn’t know that she was stolen.”

  “Well, you have. All the people of Oz,” explained Scraps, “are ruled by Ozma, whether they know it or not. And she has been stolen. Aren’t you angry? Aren’t you indignant? Your Ruler, whom you didn’t know you had, has positively been stolen!”

  “That is queer,” remarked the Frogman thoughtfully. “Stealing is a thing practically unknown in Oz, yet this Ozma has been taken, and a friend of mine has also had her dishpan stolen. With her I have traveled all the way from the Yip Country in order to recover it.”

  “I don’t see any connection between a Royal Ruler of Oz and a dishpan!” declared Scraps.

  “They’ve both been stolen, haven’t they?”

  “True. But why can’t your friend wash her dishes in another dishpan?” asked Scraps.

  “Why can’t you use another Royal Ruler? I suppose you prefer the one who is lost, and my friend wants her own dishpan, which is made of gold and studded with diamonds and has magic powers.”

  “Magic, eh?” exclaimed Scraps. “THERE is a link that connects the two steals, anyhow, for it seems that all the magic in the Land of Oz was stolen at the same time, whether it was in the Emerald City of in Glinda’s castle or in the Yip Country. Seems mighty strange and mysterious, doesn’t it?”

  “It used to seem that way to me,” admitted the Frogman, “but we have now discovered who took our dishpan. It was Ugu the Shoemaker.”

  “Ugu? Good gracious! That’s the same magician we think has stolen Ozma. We are now on our way to the castle of this Shoemaker.”

  “So are we,” said the Frogman.

  “Then follow me, quick! And let me introduce you to Dorothy and the other girls and to the Wizard of Oz and all the rest of us.”

  She sprang up and seized his coatsleeve, dragging him off the hilltop and down the other side from that whence he had come. And at the foot of the hill, the Frogman was astonished to find the three girls and the Wizard and Button-Bright, who were surrounded by a wooden Sawhorse, a lean Mule, a square Woozy, and a Cowardly Lion. A little black dog ran up and smelled at the Frogman, but couldn’t growl at him.

  “I’ve discovered another party that has been robbed,” shouted Scraps as she joined them. “This is their leader, and they’re all going to Ugu’s castle to fight the wicked Shoemaker!”

  They regarded the Frogman with much curiosity and interest, and finding all eyes fixed upon him, the newcomer arranged his necktie and smoothed his beautiful vest and swung his gold-headed cane like a regular dandy. The big spectacles over his eyes quite altered his froglike countenance and gave him a learned and impressive look. Used as she was to seeing strange creatures in the Land of Oz, Dorothy was amazed at discovering the Frogman. So were all her companions. Toto wanted to growl at him, but couldn’t, and he didn’t dare bark. The Sawhorse snorted rather contemptuously, but the Lion whispered to the wooden steed, “Bear with this strange creature, my friend, and remember he is no more extraordinary than you are. Indeed, it is more natural for a frog to be big than for a Sawhorse to be alive.”

  On being questioned, the Frogman told them the whole story of the loss of Cayke’s highly prized dishpan and their adventures in search of it. When he came to tell of the Lavender Bear King and of the Little Pink Bear who could tell anything you wanted to know, his hearers became eager to see such interesting animals.

  “It will be best,” said the Wizard, “to unite our two parties and share our fortunes together, for we are all bound on the same errand, and as one band we may more easily defy this shoemaker magician than if separate. Let us be allies.”

  “I will ask my friends about that,” replied the Frogman, and he climbed over the hill to find Cayke and the toy bears. The Patchwork Girl accompanied him, and when they came upon the Cookie Cook and the Lavender Bear and the Pink Bear, it was hard to tell which of the lot was the most surprised.

  “Mercy me!” cried Cayke, addressing the Patchwork Girl. “However did you come alive?”

  Scraps stared at the bears.

  “Mercy me!” she echoed, “You are stuffed, as I am, with cotton, and you appear to be living. That makes me feel ashamed, for I have prided myself on being the only live cotton-stuffed person in Oz.”

  “Perhaps you are,” returned the Lavender Bear, “for I am stuffed with extra-quality curled hair, and so is the Little Pink Bear.”

  “You have relieved my mind of a great anxiety,” declared the Patchwork Girl, now speaking more cheerfully. “The Scarecrow is stuffed with straw and you with hair, so I am still the Original and Only Cotton-Stuffed!”

  “I hope I am too polite to criticize cotton as compared with curled hair,” said the King, “especially as you seem satisfied with it.”

  Then the Frogman told of his interview with the party from the Emerald City and added that the Wizard of Oz had invited the bears and Cayke and himself to travel in company with them to the castle of Ugu the Shoemaker. Cayke was much pleased, but the Bear King looked solemn. He set the Little Pink Bear on his lap and turned the crank in its side and asked, “Is it safe for us to associate with those people from the Emerald City?”

  And the Pink Bear at once replied,

  “Safe for you and safe for me;

  Perhaps no others safe will be.”

  “That ‘perhaps’ need not worry us,” said the King, “so let us join the others and offer them our protection.”

  Even the Lavender Bear was astonished, however, when on climbing over the hill he found on the other side the group of queer animals and the people from the Emerald City. The bears and Cayke were received very cordially, although Button-Bright was cross when they wouldn’t let him play with the Little Pink Bear. The three girls greatly admired the toy bears, and especiall
y the pink one, which they longed to hold.

  “You see,” explained the Lavender King in denying them this privilege, “he’s a very valuable bear, because his magic is a correct guide on all occasions, and especially if one is in difficulties. It was the Pink Bear who told us that Ugu the Shoemaker had stolen the Cookie Cook’s dishpan.”

  “And the King’s magic is just as wonderful,” added Cayke, “because it showed us the Magician himself.”

  “What did he look like?” inquired Dorothy.

  “He was dreadful!”

  “He was sitting at a table and examining an immense Book which had three golden clasps,” remarked the King.

  “Why, that must have been Glinda’s Great Book of Records!” exclaimed Dorothy. “If it is, it proves that Ugu the Shoemaker stole Ozma, and with her all the magic in the Emerald City.”

  “And my dishpan,” said Cayke.

  And the Wizard added, “It also proves that he is following our adventures in the Book of Records, and therefore knows that we are seeking him and that we are determined to find him and reach Ozma at all hazards.”

  “If we can,” added the Woozy, but everybody frowned at him.

  The Wizard’s statement was so true that the faces around him were very serious until the Patchwork Girl broke into a peal of laughter.

  “Wouldn’t it be a rich joke if he made prisoners of us, too?” she said.

  “No one but a crazy Patchwork Girl would consider that a joke,” grumbled Button-Bright.

  And then the Lavender Bear King asked, “Would you like to see this magical shoemaker?”

  “Wouldn’t he know it?” Dorothy inquired.

  “No, I think not.”

  Then the King waved his metal wand and before them appeared a room in the wicker castle of Ugu. On the wall of the room hung Ozma’s Magic Picture, and seated before it was the Magician. They could see the Picture as well as he could, because it faced them, and in the Picture was the hillside where they were not sitting, all their forms being reproduced in miniature. And curiously enough, within the scene of the Picture was the scene they were now beholding, so they knew that the Magician was at this moment watching them in the Picture, and also that he saw himself and the room he was in become visible to the people on the hillside. Therefore he knew very well that they were watching him while he was watching them.

  In proof of this, Ugu sprang from his seat and turned a scowling face in their direction; but now he could not see the travelers who were seeking him, although they could still see him. His actions were so distinct, indeed, that it seemed he was actually before them. “It is only a ghost,” said the Bear King. “It isn’t real at all except that it shows us Ugu just as he looks and tells us truly just what he is doing.”

  “I don’t see anything of my lost growl, though,” said Toto as if to himself.

  Then the vision faded away, and they could see nothing but the grass and trees and bushes around them.

  CHAPTER 18.THE CONFERENCE

  “Now then,” said the Wizard, “let us talk this matter over and decide what to do when we get to Ugu’s wicker castle. There can be no doubt that the Shoemaker is a powerful Magician, and his powers have been increased a hundredfold since he secured the Great Book of Records, the Magic Picture, all of Glinda’s recipes for sorcery, and my own black bag, which was full of tools of wizardry. The man who could rob us of those things and the man with all their powers at his command is one who may prove somewhat difficult to conquer, therefore we should plan our actions well before we venture too near to his castle.”

  “I didn’t see Ozma in the Magic Picture,” said Trot. “What do you suppose Ugu has done with her?”

  “Couldn’t the Little Pink Bear tell us what he did with Ozma?” asked Button-Bright.

  “To be sure,” replied the Lavender King. “I’ll ask him.” So he turned the crank in the Little Pink Bear’s side and inquired, “Did Ugu the Shoemaker steal Ozma of Oz?”

  “Yes,” answered the Little Pink Bear.

  “Then what did he do with her?” asked the King.

  “Shut her up in a dark place,” answered the Little Pink Bear.

  “Oh, that must be a dungeon cell!” cried Dorothy, horrified. “How dreadful!”

  “Well, we must get her out of it,” said the Wizard. “That is what we came for, and of course we must rescue Ozma. But how?”

  Each one looked at some other one for an answer, and all shook their heads in a grave and dismal manner. All but Scraps, who danced around them gleefully. “You’re afraid,” said the Patchwork Girl, “because so many things can hurt your meat bodies. Why don’t you give it up and go home? How can you fight a great magician when you have nothing to fight with?”

  Dorothy looked at her reflectively.

  “Scraps,” said she, “you know that Ugu couldn’t hurt you a bit, whatever he did, nor could he hurt ME, ‘cause I wear the Gnome King’s Magic Belt. S’pose just we two go on together and leave the others here to wait for us.”

  “No, no!” said the Wizard positively. “That won’t do at all. Ozma is more powerful than either of you, yet she could not defeat the wicked Ugu, who has shut her up in a dungeon. We must go to the Shoemaker in one mighty band, for only in union is there strength.”

  “That is excellent advice,” said the Lavender Bear approvingly.

  “But what can we do when we get to Ugu?” inquired the Cookie Cook anxiously.

  “Do not expect a prompt answer to that important question,” replied the Wizard, “for we must first plan our line of conduct. Ugu knows, of course, that we are after him, for he has seen our approach in the Magic Picture, and he has read of all we have done up to the present moment in the Great Book of Records. Therefore we cannot expect to take him by surprise.”

  “Don’t you suppose Ugu would listen to reason?” asked Betsy. “If we explained to him how wicked he has been, don’t you think he’d let poor Ozma go?”

  “And give me back my dishpan?” added the Cookie Cook eagerly.

  “Yes, yes, won’t he say he’s sorry and get on his knees and beg our pardon?” cried Scraps, turning a flip-flop to show her scorn of the suggestion. “When Ugu the Shoemaker does that, please knock at the front door and let me know.”

  The Wizard sighed and rubbed his bald head with a puzzled air. “I’m quite sure Ugu will not be polite to us,” said he, “so we must conquer this cruel magician by force, much as we dislike to be rude to anyone. But none of you has yet suggested a way to do that. Couldn’t the Little Pink Bear tell us how?” he asked, turning to the Bear King.

  “No, for that is something that is GOING to happen,” replied the Lavender Bear. “He can only tell us what already HAS happened.”

  Again, they were grave and thoughtful. But after a time, Betsy said in a hesitating voice, “Hank is a great fighter. Perhaps HE could conquer the magician.”

  The Mule turned his head to look reproachfully at his old friend, the young girl. “Who can fight against magic?” he asked.

  “The Cowardly Lion could,” said Dorothy.

  The Lion, who was lying with his front legs spread out, his chin on his paws, raised his shaggy head. “I can fight when I’m not afraid,” said he calmly, “but the mere mention of a fight sets me to trembling.”

  “Ugu’s magic couldn’t hurt the Sawhorse,” suggested tiny Trot.

  “And the Sawhorse couldn’t hurt the Magician,” declared that wooden animal.

  “For my part,” said Toto, “I am helpless, having lost my growl.”

  “Then,” said Cayke the Cookie Cook, “we must depend upon the Frogman. His marvelous wisdom will surely inform him how to conquer the wicked Magician and restore to me my dishpan.”

  All eyes were now turned questioningly upon the Frogman. Finding himself the center of observation, he swung his gold-headed cane, adjusted his big specta
cles, and after swelling out his chest, sighed and said in a modest tone of voice:

  “Respect for truth obliges me to confess that Cayke is mistaken in regard to my superior wisdom. I am not very wise. Neither have I had any practical experience in conquering magicians. But let us consider this case. What is Ugu, and what is a magician? Ugu is a renegade shoemaker, and a magician is an ordinary man who, having learned how to do magical tricks, considers himself above his fellows. In this case, the Shoemaker has been naughty enough to steal a lot of magical tools and things that did not belong to him, and he is more wicked to steal than to be a magician. Yet with all the arts at his command, Ugu is still a man, and surely there are ways in which a man may be conquered. How, do you say, how? Allow me to state that I don’t know. In my judgment, we cannot decide how best to act until we get to Ugu’s castle. So let us go to it and take a look at it. After that, we may discover an idea that will guide us to victory.”

  “That may not be a wise speech, but it sounds good,” said Dorothy approvingly. “Ugu the Shoemaker is not only a common man, but he’s a wicked man and a cruel man and deserves to be conquered. We mustn’t have any mercy on him till Ozma is set free. So let’s go to his castle as the Frogman says and see what the place looks like.”

  No one offered any objection to this plan, and so it was adopted. They broke camp and were about to start on the journey to Ugu’s castle when they discovered that Button-Bright was lost again. The girls and the Wizard shouted his name, and the Lion roared and the Donkey brayed and the Frogman croaked and the Big Lavender Bear growled (to the envy of Toto, who couldn’t growl but barked his loudest), yet none of them could make Button-Bright hear. So after vainly searching for the boy a full hour, they formed a procession and proceeded in the direction of the wicker castle of Ugu the Shoemaker.