L. Frank Baum - Oz 40 - Merry Go Round In Oz

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Merry Go Round In Oz – Oz 40
L. Frank Baum
by Eloise Jarvis McGraw and Lauren McGraw
Chapter 1
IT WAS a fine April evening, and the little
carnival that had pitched its tents on the outskirts of Cherryburg,
Oregon, was doing a rushing business and making as much
noise as possible about it. The calliope blared, the banners
snapped in the breeze, the rifles banged in the shooting gallery, the
grease sizzled in the hamburger stand, the children shrieked with
excitement, the cash registers chimed vigorously, and the manager
rubbed his hands together with a sound like sandpaper scraping
a board.
An ancient pickup truck added to the din as it bumped and
jolted and clattered its way into the carnival grounds and across
the parking area, subsiding with a final backfire under a huge oak
tree. Instantly its doors and tailgate flew open and disgorged
nine tow-headed McGudgey brothers, and one small rusty-haired
foster brother named Robin Brown.
"Okay, everybody, eyes front!" yelled Big Tim, the tenth
tow-headed McGudgey brother, who had been in the army. He
climbed out of the driver's seat, collected his young charges into
a squirming, chattering group, and demanded to know where
each one was going.
"Ferris wheel!" shrieked three McGudgeys.
"Fortune teller!" yelled another.
"Hamburger stand! Rocket cars! Dodgems!" whooped several
more.
"Merry-go-round," said Robin Brown-in a calm voice, as
usual. Nobody heard him, also as usual.
"Okay, 'tention!" shouted Tim. "Got your money? Everybody
show me! Tommy, come back here! Allen, 'bout face!
Let's see your money. Okay, company report back here at nine-
thirty sharp, understand? Where's Robin?"
"Where's Robin? Where's Robin?" cried the others impatiently,
milling around.
"Here I am," said Robin, but nobody heard him.
"Never mind him, let's go!" yelled various McGudgeys.
"Now just wait a minute, company halt! Where's Robin got
to? Let go my sleeve, whoever that is-oh, it's Robin! Where've
you been, anyhow? You got your money? Okay, break ranks
everybody, back at nine-thirty, remember!"
The last warning was uttered in a drill-sergeant's bellow, as
the nine McGudgeys scattered in all directions, whooping with
anticipation. Big Tim himself set off at a trot for the shooting
gallery, leaving Robin standing alone under the oak tree, able at
last to hear the music of the merry-go-round.
Clutching his one precious coin, he hurried in the direction
of the calliope, wondering if the merry-go-round could possibly
be as glorious as he remembered it from last year, and warning
himself not to be disappointed if it weren't. Robin often issued
these severe little warnings to himself, though he scarcely needed
them. In the ten years of his orphan's life-spent chiefly in shuttling
from one foster home to another-very few things had turned
out to be as interesting as he had hoped.
He did not find the McGudgeys interesting at all, but they
were no worse than any other of the foster families he had lived
with-though noisier than most. He was quite accustomed to
being solitary, belonging to no one and having no one that truly
belonged to him. Mr. and Mrs. MeGudgey were kind enough,
in an absentminded way. They bellowed good-naturedly at him
whenever they happened to notice him, sent him along with their
own sons to enjoy an occasional treat such as this carnival, and
took him to the dentist twice a year. Once every two weeks he
was required to line up with the other boys for the regular nose
counting, temperature-taking, and gumdrop distributing, a procedure
which was conducted along army lines by Tim. The rest of
the time the McGudgeys went noisily about their business, and
left Robin to go quietly about his own, thinking his own thoughts
and warning himself about disappointments.
Tonight there was no disappointment in store. The merry-
go-round was a glorious sight, and it made a glorious, if
deafening, noise-exactly as he remembered. He stood gazing raptly at the
gilt-and-scarlet canopy glittering under its colored lights, and
the prancing horses circling below it. Even the music sounded
gilt-and-scarlet, and the saddles and bridles were fully as
gorgeous as the ones in his King Arthur book. If there was anything Robin
liked as well as merry-go-rounds, it was his King Arthur book.
And if there was anything he liked better than either one, it was
horses-any kind of horses. He preferred real ones, but had yet
to meet one personally. Until he did, wooden ones would do.
He began to walk all around the spinning merry-go-round,
studying the horses through narrowed eyes. He had money for
only one ride, and he meant to choose the very handsomest horse
to take that one ride on. But how to choose? They were all the
handsomest! Dapple-gray with a blue and silver saddle, black
with fiery eyes, snow-white, yellow, spotted .
Robin was still biting his lip anxiously, looking from one
horse to another, when the merry-go-round began to slow down.
"My ticket!" he exclaimed. "For heaven's sakes, I forgot to
buy my ticket!"
As he whirled, glancing around to find the ticket booth, there
was a cackle of laughter behind him, and a voice said, "Here's
your ticket, Sonny, I've got your ticket! This way, this way!"
The voice faded slowly with the turning of the merry-go-
round, but Robin caught a glimpse of a bent little man clinging
to one of the gilded poles, and ran quickly after him. He had
to follow another half turn before the merry-go-round glided
slowly to a halt, and the man stepped down in front of him.
He was a very strange little man, fat as a butterball, no taller
than Robin himself, and dressed in the oddest possible collection
of rags and tatters. He seemed amiable enough, however, for he
was grinning and chuckling as he peered intently into Robin's
face.
"Here's your ticket, Sonny! Where's your money? Where's
your money? You pay-this way-I say-you pay-"
He must be a little touched, Robin thought, hastily holding
out his coin and receiving a ticket in return. He had a fleeting
impression that the ticket was as odd as the ticket-seller, but he
had no time to examine it, for the little man was tugging him onto
the merry-go-round, talking all the time.
"There you are, Sonny, one ticket one ride, grab the ring and
have a fling, grab the ring, grab the ring-free ride, whee ride,
spree ride, glee ride, grab the ring, free ride .
"Wait a minute!" puffed Robin, trying to wriggle away from
the little man, who was pulling him along between the horses
as fast as he could go. "Please-wait a minute, Sir. I want to
choose my horse!"
"No need, no need, there's your steed, there's your steed,
light feed, such speed-"
The calliope gave a shrill blast, the little man a shrill laugh
that sounded almost like it, and Robin found himself staring in
delight at the very handsomest horse on the merry-go-round.
It was a dainty, high-stepping little mare, painted scarlet, with
a tossing carved mane and flowing long tail of snowy white. Her
saddle and bridle were shining gilt, as was the twisted pole
rising up out of her withers to the canopy above. Her hooves were
black and polished, and her glass eyes dark and soft.
"Why, how did I miss you before?" Robin said happily, patting
her wooden neck and climbing quickly onto her back. He was
sure he hadn't seen her before, though he couldn't think why,
since she was in the outside ring of horses and plainly visible.
"Never mind, I've found you now, thanks to that funny little
man-where did he go, I wonder?"
The little man had certainly vanished-probably, thought
Robin, he was on the other side of the merry-go-round selling
tickets to someone else. For the first time, he examined his own
ticket, and found that it 'was a curious one, as he had thought.
It was as large as a postcard, and scarlet, like the mare. Across
one side of it in shining gilt letters was printed:
GRAB THE BRASS RING FOR A FREE RIDE
"Well, I'll certainly try," Robin told his mare. "I'd like two
rides on you better than anything I can think of! . . . Oh-oh,
here we go!"
Hastily gathering the gilded reins, Robin thrust his feet into
the stirrups and sat up very straight and stern, deciding he would
be Sir Gareth on this ride, and-if he managed to grab the brass
ring-Sir Lancelot on the next. The merry-go-round slowly began
its gliding circle, and the scarlet mare rose slowly in her
bounding canter, sank again, rose more swiftly, sank, rose,
dropped, leaped, dropped, leaped . . .
"It's just like flying!" Robin thought, laughing with excitement
as he watched the lights and tents of the carnival flick
'round and 'round. "Here I come, ye knights and ladies, I, Sir
Gareth, will slay the Black Knight and rescue the damsel and-"
"The ring, grab the ring, have a fling, free ride, glee ride..."
It was the funny little man's voice, all right, though Robin
couldn't see him anywhere. Never mind, there was the brass ring
just ahead, a tiny object clipped to the end of a long metal arm
that extended toward the merry-go-round. It was just out of
reach.
"Missed it!" Robin said disgustedly. "Oh, well, it'll come
around again in a minute . . . Shucks! Missed it again!"
After the fourth or fifth failure, Robin began to grow stubborn,
as he always did when he failed at something. Then he grew
ingenious, as he always did when he became stubborn. While
his little red mare was leaping and bounding around the rest of
the circle, he prepared hastily for the moment at which he would
pass that tantalizing metal arm again. With some difficulty, since
the merry-go-round was now whirling at top speed and his mare
was very spirited, he stood up in his stirrups, wound his left arm
tightly around the mare's pole to brace himself, and leaned perilously
far out, with his right arm stretched full length.
Now! Here came the arm again-why, there was the little
man, standing right under it, stamping one foot and shouting as
he stamped. Reach, Sonny! Reach! Reach! Reach! Reach!"
"I'm t-trying-" Robin panted, reaching with all his might . . .Click!
"I got it, I got it!" Robin shouted, holding the ring high. He
had one swift glimpse of the little man throwing his hat triumphantly
in the air, then-CRACK!!!!
"Wh-what's happening?" Robin gasped, flinging both arms
around the pole and hanging on for dear life. The merry-go-
round seemed to have gone crazy-or else something had made
him fearfully dizzy-or else all the lights in the carnival were
really whirling and swaying and jouncing and bouncing, as if the world
were turning over and over. As he shut his eyes giddily, he heard
a shrill neigh, and the little man's voice shrieked, "Free ride,
glee ride, ski ride, 'wheee ride .
WHOOOOOOOOSMMHHHHHH!
"My g-goodness, it's just like flying," Robin gulped, feeling
the wind whistle through his hair. Fearfully he opened one eye
and peeped-backward and downward. One peep was enough.
He was flying, he and the little red horse. "Free" ride indeed!
This ride had shot him free of the merry-go-round itself, free of
the lights, the tents, the whole carnival! There they all were,
clustered below him in the darkness, already so far away they
looked like toys, and getting smaller every second. Even as he
watched, they dwindled to a bright pinpoint and then vanished
entirely.
"Jeepers W. Creepers!" Robin groaned, squeezing his eyes
shut again and gripping the pole convulsively. "What happens
when we land?"
For a long while, it seemed they were never going to land at
all. Once or twice Robin opened his eyes a crack, but there was
absolutely nothing but darkness to see-not even any stars-and
the cold gale that blew against his eyelids made them sting, so
he soon gave up, closed them tight and devoted himself to hanging on.
Finally, after what seemed an age and a half of freezing wind
and rocket-like speed, there was a curious sound, like tissue-
paper tearing. Instantly he felt his speed decrease, and warm sunshine
touch his face. The next moment the pole was jerked from
his hands and he was falling-gently, slowly, somersaulting over
and over-down, down, down, to land with a splintering, crackling
sort of crash in something twiggy and uncomfortable.
sp
Chapter 2
FOR a few minutes, Robin did nothing at
all but pant. Then very cautiously, he opened one eye. Seeing
nothing more alarming than a patch of blue sky and a couple of
clouds, he opened the other eye and tried to sit up. This proved
difficult, both because he was dizzy and because whatever it was
he had fallen into didn't seem to want to be sat upon. Peering
down at it, he perceived that it was a mass of leaves and twigs
and thorns; as his head cleared, he realized he was sprawled in
the middle of a hawthorn hedge.
His dizziness replaced by lively curiosity, Robin climbed out
of the hedge and looked around him. The night had gone, somehow
or other; there was a fresh feel of morning in the air. Early
sunshine sparkled over a pleasant, rolling countryside, which was
marked by hedgerows and stone walls and ditches, and dotted
with patches of woodland. It didn't look much like Oregon; there
were no fir trees, no orchards, no mountains in the distance,
摘要：

    MerryGoRoundInOz–Oz40 L.FrankBaum               byEloiseJarvisMcGrawandLaurenMcGraw Chapter1     ITWASafineAprilevening,andthelittlecarnivalthathadpitcheditstentsontheoutskirtsofCherryburg,Oregon,wasdoingarushingbusinessandmakingasmuchnoiseaspossibleaboutit.Thecalliopeblared,thebannerssnappedint...

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