L. Frank Baum - Oz 21 - Gnome King Of Oz

Gnome King Of Oz – Oz 21

L. Frank Baum

This Book Is Dedicated to My Nephew

Richard Shuff Thompson, Jr.

With lots of love and a little laugh,

For a little boy almost three and a half!

If I had a wish, I'd wish it quick

And keep him always "Little Dick."

Ruth Plumly Thompson

The Gnome King of Oz

List of Chapters

Chapter

1 Queen Cross Patch Flits

2 The New Queen of the Quilties

3 Duties of the Quilty Queen

4 Peter Flies with an Odd Bird

5 Sea Tips Upside Down in Quake

6 Ruggedo Discovers Pirate's Treasure

7 KalikoFallsas King of Gnomes

8 Peter Meets Kuma Party

9 Queen Scraps Meets Peter

10 Escape from Patch at Last

11 Scraps Meets Sultan of Suds

12 Friend Oztrich Offers to Help

13 TuneTownSings the Wanderers Onward

14 Ozwold and His Friends Rush On

15 Wumbo, Wonder Worker, at Home

16 Kuma's Hand Is at Work Again

17 Mystery in theEmeraldCity

18 The Theft of the Magic Belt

19 The Wizard Makes the Gnome King Visible

20 Peter Is Made a Prince of Oz

CHAFTER 1

Queen Cross Patch Flits

QUEEN CROSS PATCH, the Sixth, stood at her castle window staring crossly down at her

cross-patch country. From above it looked like a huge patch-work quilt, spread over the rolling hills of

the Winkie Country in Oz. Each of her subjects had a separate cotton-patch, and as each patch

produced a different color of cotton and each patch-worker dressed himself and his family in the color of

his patch and painted his house the same color too, you can imagine the odd appearance of the Kingdom

itself. The Quilties, as the people of Patch were pleased to call themselves, did most of the patch-work in

Oz and, as the Kingdoms of Oz are nearly all old-fashioned enough to use and appreciate patch-work

quilts, there was plenty of work to be done. Not only did the industrious Quilties gather the small

cotton-patches from their garden patches and stitch them into gay quilts but they did mending and darning

as well.

For miles around people brought their old clothes to Queen Cross Patch for repairs, so that

Patch was as busy and prosperous a little Kingdom as you would find anywhere, but by no means a

pleasant one. Constant picking of the scraps in their garden patches had made the Quilty men

exceedingly scrappy, and constant stitching upon the patch-work quilts had made the Quilty ladies

extremely cross and crotchety. Indeed, everything about this little country was cross and patchy. All the

roads were cross roads, and the houses as patched and shabby as the clothes of the people who lived in

them.

But perhaps, of all the Quilties, the Queen, herself, was the crossest and patchiest. She even

had a patch over her eye. She had strained it from too much fine sewing. Just now she was straining the

other one in an effort to see that all of her subjects were hard at work. Finding that they were, she

flounced across the room and sat down at her sewing table. Here, grumbling and scolding to herself, she

began sorting patches into separate piles, according to their size and color. Except for her Majesty's

mumbles and the occasional snores of a scissor bird, who dozed on a perch by the window, there was

not a sound in the great chamber. But suddenly, with a shrill scream, the Queen flung a handful of patches

into the air, toppled off her three-legged throne and went entirely to pieces extremely small pieces, too.

"Help!" shrieked the Scissor Bird, wakening with a bounce. "Help! Help! The Queen has gone

to pieces!" At the Scissor Bird's sharp outcries, the Prime Piecer and Chief Scrapper of Patch fairly

rushed through the doorway.

"I've been expecting this!" groaned the Prime Piecer, and taking a huge bite from the chunk of

beeswax he held in one hand began to chew it gloomily.

"Well, if you've been expecting it you're not surprised," sniffed the Chief Scrapper crossly, "but

it's too bad to have it happen at the busiest season of the year. Now we'll have to stop everything and

find a new ruler. Hold your bill, Nipper!"

Stamping his foot at the Scissor Bird, the Chief Scrapper of Patch marched stiffly from the

room. Neither the Prime Piecer nor the Chief Scrapper seemed to think it queer for the Queen to go to

pieces. And no doubt this is because, sooner or later, all of the Quilties do this very thing. Living in a fairy

country and being magically constructed they cannot die, so when they wear out, they simply go to

pieces. When a Quilty goes to pieces, his relatives or friends sweep up the scraps and put them away in'

a tidy scrap-bag and in ten years or so he comes out of the bag as good as ever. This does seem a

curious custom, but curious or not, that is exactly what happens, and while Scrapper went to fetch the

Royal scrap-bag and Piecer the Royal dust-pan, the Scissor Bird flew out of the window to break the

news to the patchworking populace.

In a huge sewing circle, the Quilty Dames were stitching upon a quilt and in their separate

garden patches, the Quilty men were busily picking cottonpatches. But as the Scissor Bird flew

screaming overhead and they realized that Queen Cross Patch had gone to pieces at last, they all

stopped working and looked fearfully at one another. Who would be the next ruler of Patch? Whenever

a ruler went to pieces another was immediately chosen by the method laid down in the Imperial Scrap

Book and always one of the Quilties had been chosen.

Now, curiously enough, no one wanted to be King or Queen, for the ruler of this cross little

country had to work six times as hard as anyone else and consequently went to pieces six times faster.

Therefore, dropping their thimbles and scissors, the Quilties started to run in every direction, pelting into

houses and down cellars, creeping into barrels and hiding themselves behind trees-so that when Piecer

and Scrapper issued from the palace not a person was in sight. They had carefully swept up Queen

Cross Patch and hung her in a closet, and now, grumbling a little for choosing a new sovereign was

always a troublesome matter-they stepped sternly toward the cotton-wood to the left of the palace. In

this wood grew hundreds of spool cotton-trees enough, in fact, to furnish all the thread used in the

Kingdom. There were pink spool cotton-trees, red spool cotton-trees, green spool cotton-trees, orange

spool cotton-trees, and every other color you could imagine. In the center of the little cottonwood grew a

somewhat taller tree, bearing always one golden spool. It was to this tree that the Prime Ministers of

Patch hurried, for this golden spool was the royal spool of succession, and when cut from the tree led

directly to the next ruler of the Kingdom.

Piecer had a large rag-bag over his shoulder, for it was usually necessary to capture a ruler by

force; Scrapper had a pair of gold shears and now, standing on tiptoe, he snipped the golden spool from

the golden branch and held it expectantly in his hand. There was a regular speech written out in the Royal

Scrap Book, and as Scrapper had already chosen three rulers, he knew it by heart.

"Unwind, Oh, Royal Spool of Succession," commanded the little Quilty importantly, "Un-wind

and lead us to the Imperial Potentate of Patch!" As he came to the word "patch," Scrapper set the spool

on the ground and, keeping hold of the golden thread, waited solemnly for something to happen. For a

moment the spool lay quietly where he had placed it-then with a little bounce it began to unwind. Letting

the gold thread slip through his fingers, Scrapper skipped nimbly after the spool, Piecer following

earnestly behind him. Up one cross road and down another rolled the Royal Spool of Succession, past

the patched palace, past a dozen patched cottages, on and on and on.

As it passed each cottage, the Quilties within would give a roar of relief, for they knew that for

the present the danger of being King or Queen had passed the members of their household. Sometimes

the golden spool would roll right into the front door of a cottage and Scrapper and Piecer, thinking their

search over, would prepare to seize a sovereign but, just as they did, the spool would whirl out the back

door and roll on merrily down the road. But never before in the history of Patch had it gone so far nor so

fast, so that soon the fat Quilty ministers, panting along after it, were completely out of breath and

temper. Now the cotton-patches grew thinner and thinner, the little cottages farther and farther apart, and

before they half realized it, the golden spool was rolling briskly down a yellow brick highway and the

Kingdom of Patch lay far behind them.

"Stop!" grunted Piecer, letting go Scrapper's coat-tails to which he up to this time had dutifully

clung. "Stop! I can go no farther."

"Don't leave me," wailed poor Scrapper, rolling his eyes backward in great distress. Neither of

the Quilties had been out of Patch before and the prospect was truly terrifying. Now, whether the magic

spool heard the two conversing is hard to tell but, quite suddenly, it stopped and sinking down by the

roadway, Piecer and Scrapper began to mop their foreheads with their patched handkerchiefs and fan

themselves with their hats.

"Let's go back," quavered Piecer in a low voice.

"But we cannot go back without a ruler," objected Scrapper, who was the bolder of the two.

"If we do not find a ruler in four days you very well know that Patch and all of the Quilties will go to

pieces. Do you want to go to pieces?" he asked severely.

"No!" said Piecer mournfully, "I don't, but we'll go to pieces anyway, running on at this rate.

Something is wrong," puffed the Prime Piecer dolefully. "The spool never took us out of the Kingdom

before. It's twisted, I tell you, and dear knows where it will take us."

"It will take us to the next ruler," declared Scrapper, who had recovered some of his breath

and most of his courage. "It is our duty to follow. Come!"

"Oh, very well," sighed Piecer, rising to his feet with a great groan, "but don't blame me if it

leads us into a forest and we are torn to bits by bears."

As Piecer finished this cheering speech the thread in Scrapper's hand gave a little pull. The

golden spool had started off again. This time, however, it rolled along more slowly and, in spite of their

uneasiness, the two Quilties cast interested glances to the right and left. It was all so different from their

own patched and shabby little Kingdom. Pleasant yellow cottages and farms dotted the landscape, and

the fields and meadows, full of buttercups and daisies, did not look a bit dangerous. On the hill a splendid

tin castle shone and glittered in the sun, and though Scrapper and Piecer were quite unaware of it, this

was the residence of the Tin Woodman, who ruled over the Land of the East.

Nowhere in Oz is there a more cheerful land than the Country of the Winkies. But just as the

two travellers were beginning to enjoy themselves, the spool turned sharply off the highway and plunged

down a steep hill. The first jerk flung Scrapper on his face, and as Piecer had hold of his coat-tails he lost

his balance too, and over and over they rolled to the bottom.

"Now for the next ruler!" gasped Scrapper. Scrambling to his feet, and without pausing to

brush off the dust, he bounded after the spool. It was fairly whistling ahead now, bouncing over rocks

and tree stumps, so that the two Patchy Statesmen, in their endeavor to keep up with it, looked like a

couple of boys playing leap frog. When it did stop Piecer was too giddy to see, but Scrapper gave a loud

roar of anger.

"I don't care what it says," shouted the little Quilty angrily, "I refuse to take orders from a cow.

Is this our future sovereign?" he demanded indignantly. The spool had stopped indeed, and under the

very horns of a cross brown cow.

"Moo!" bellowed the cow, lowering her head threateningly.

"That's just what we will do," sniffed Scrapper, "move on!" At Scrapper's words, the Spool of

Succession, as if it had been waiting for a signal, zipped under the cow, dragging both ministers along,

and from the way it behaved in the next half hour, I am convinced that some mighty bad magic had gone

into its making. It rushed furiously under fences, over which the breathless Quilties were forced to climb,

'round and 'round trees, till they were almost too dizzy to stand, up hills and down hills, through stickery

bushes and over sharp stones. It even dragged them head first into a muddy river.

"Let's go home," blubbered Piecer, shaking himself like a big dog. Fortunately the Quilties

could swim, but swimming in quilted trousers and coats was no fun at all and, dripping water and mud,

the two sovereign seekers felt more depressed than ever.

"It's bewitched," insisted Piecer, tugging at Scrapper's coat-tails. "Let's go back!"

But Scrapper stubbornly shook his head and trudged stubbornly after the mischievous Spool

of Succession. It was unwinding quite deliber-ately now, but leading them deep into a dangerous looking

forest.

"I wish Cross Patch had never gone to pieces," moaned Piecer dismally. "I don't care who's

Imperial Potentate. I wish someone else had my position. I wish-"

"There's a sign," interrupted Scrapper. "Look! It says 'Emerald City, thirty-five miles'."

"Emerald City!" panted Piecer, forgetting his weariness for a moment. "Why, that's the capital

of Oz. Patches and pincushions! Why, I never expected to see the Emerald City! Maybe our next

Queen's in the capital, old fellow!"

"Well, then she ought to make a capital Queen," sighed Scrapper, leaning over to untwine a

bramble from his left shin, "but who wants to walk thirty-five miles?"

As he straightened up, the gold spool whirled between two tall trees and came to a complete

standstill on a short foot-path. A rustic railing ran along the edge of the path and, taking hold of the

railing, Scrapper began looking anxiously around for the future ruler of Patch.

"Do you see anything?" he queried, looking over his shoulder.

"No, but I feel something," grunted Piecer, peering anxiously down at his feet. "Beeswax and

basting threads!"

Next instant both Quilties leapt into the air. Then, taking a firmer hold upon the railing and on

each other, they clung desperately together, for the foot-path, rising up on its hundred broad feet, was

rushing like the wind through the gloomy forest.

"Are-we-going-to-pieces?" shouted the Prime Piecer, not daring to open his eyes.

Cautiously Scrapper opened one eye and the first thing that met his gaze was a neat notice

tacked on the rustic railing. It was only a blur, so fast were they travelling, but opening the other eye he

managed to decipher it.

"This foot-path runs straight to the Emerald City. Hold tight. No stamping or kicking allowed.

"Private Property of the Wizard of Oz."

"Well, hurrah!" exclaimed Scrapper, thump-ing his companion on the chest. "We're not going

to pieces, we're going to the Emerald City! Going! Going! Why, here we are!"

And they were too. Right at the gates of the loveliest city in Oz. The foot-path, having

accomplished its journey in less than a minute, now tilted its passengers rudely off and, coiling up like a

serpent, went to sleep under a lime drop tree. Too overcome to do anything but blink at the gleaming

spires and turrets of the capital, the two simple Quilties stood stunned and still. But a business-like tug

from the gold thread brought them out of their trance.

The Spool of Succession had slid off the path with them and was now rolling gaily through the

gates of the city. Holding fast to one another, and scarcely daring to breathe, the fat little ministers of

Patch went tiptoeing after the golden spool.

######################## CHAPTER 2

The New Queen of the Quilties

THE EMERALD CITY, which Scrapper and Piecer were now entering, is the capital of Oz

and lies in the exact center of that merry and magical Kingdom. Oz, as many of you know, is a funny and

fascinating fairyland, oblong in shape and surrounded, for protection, by a deadly desert of sand. There

are four large countries in Oz; the yellow Winkie Land of the East, the purple Gillikin country of the

North, the blue Munchkin country of the West and the red lands of the Quadlings in the South. Each of

these four countries is divided into many smaller countries of which Patch is the seven hundred and fifth,

but all are subject to one ruler and governed by laws laid down by the Queen of the realm.

The rulers of Oz always lived in the capital, not only because it is so central and convenient,

but because it is the most beautiful and enchanting city in the whole fairy world. Its cottages and castle

fairly twinkle with emeralds and these precious stones, studding the walls and even the marble walks, give

the air a soft glow and shimmer, making gardens greener, fountains more sparkling and everything more

glittering and gay.

Ozma, a little girl fairy, is the present ruler of Oz and the wisest and gentlest sovereign the fairy

country has ever known. With her in the Emerald City live fifty seven thousand, three hundred and

eighteen gay Ozites and nearly a hundred celebrities, for Ozma has invited to her court the most

interesting characters from her four fairy kingdoms.

The Scarecrow, a lively fellow stuffed with straw, is perhaps the most famous, He has a palace

of his own, but is a frequent visitor at the capital. Then there is the Tin Woodman, who rules over the

Winkies and is a splendidly polished gentleman of tin, and Sir Hokus of Pokes, a knight seven centuries

old, Jack Pumpkinhead, a singular person carved from wood with a large pumpkin for a head, Tik Tok,

a machine man who winds up like a clock and does everything but live, the famous Wizard of Oz and so

many more that twenty histories have already been written about their queer doings.

On this late afternoon, as the two bewildered Quilties trod timidly down the streets of the

capital, Ozma was busily conferring with Princess Dorothy about curtains. Dorothy is a little Kansas girl,

who was blown to Oz in a cyclone and later was made a Princess and invited to live in the palace. She is

Ozma's favorite adviser and not only helps her rule over the turbulent tribes of Oz, but is consulted about

everything, even such small matters as new ribbons for the palace pets or, as now, about castle curtains.

Choosing curtains is fun and there were so many colors and fabrics, it took the two girls quite a long time

to decide. They had about settled on green taffeta, edged with gold fringe, when a terrified cry came

echoing in from the garden.

"What was that?" cried Dorothy, and dropping a roll of taffeta, she rushed to the window.

Ozma followed quickly and, in some alarm, the two stared down over the flowered slopes and green

terraces. But not a soul was in sight and after waiting for another scream, they concluded that the first

was the shout of some mischievous boy and gaily returned to their curtains. Had they looked five minutes

sooner, they would have been surprised indeed. Five minutes before Scrapper and Piecer, toiling

breathlessly after the Spool of Succession, had run straight into the palace garden. Darting here and

there, it had led them to a secluded grape arbor. On a green bench under the arbor sat a most amazing

young lady, and as the two Quilties stared at her in perfect astonishment and admiration the golden spool

stopped at her feet.

It was the Patchwork Girl, one of the very jolliest of Ozma's subjects. She had been made

originally by a wizard's wife out of an old crazy quilt and neatly stuffed with cotton. Her eyes were silver

suspender buttons, her tongue a piece of red velvet and her hair a bunch of yarn that refused to stay

down. Margolotte, the wizard's wife, had intended Scraps for a servant, but when the wizard mixed up

her brains a double portion of fun and cleverness had got in by mistake. When he brought her to life,

Scraps refused to work and ran off to the Emerald City where she has lived ever since, making life lively

for everyone and having more fun herself than a cageful of monkeys. Being constructed from a crazy quilt

makes her exceedingly reckless and gay and as more than half her conversation is in verse, Scraps is a

most amusing and delightful companion. To the weary and already homesick Quilties she seemed a vision

of perfect loveliness.

"Superb!" gloated Piecer, throwing both arms round Scrapper's neck in his excitement.

"A beauty!" exulted Scrapper, returning Piecer's embrace with interest. Indeed, so delighted

were they at the appearance of their future sovereign that they began to dance up and down and fairly

hug one another for joy. A sharp exclamation from the Patchwork Girl made them stop.

"Ragmen apply at the rear!" cried Scraps, pointing imperiously toward the back of the castle.

"Ragmen!" The Quilties exchanged indignant glances. The spool had led them such a chase

that their clothes were torn and dusty and the bag over Piecer's shoulder added a convincing touch to the

picture. No wonder Scraps thought them ragmen. Piecer was about to explain, but Scrapper, afraid that

this bewitching damsel might escape them, rushed forward impetuously and seized her hand.

"Scat!" screamed the Patchwork Girl, snatch-ing it angrily away. "What do you take me for?"

"Because we have to," confided the Chief Scrapper mysteriously. "We take you for what you

are, a Queen. Three cheers for the Queen of the Quilties!" wheezed Scrapper, signaling slyly to Piecer.

And while the Patchwork Girl fell back, stiff with astonishment, Piecer clapped the bag over her head.

Then together the two little Quilties shook her down into the bottom and pulled the string tight. It was the

frightened scream of Scraps, as she disappeared into the rag bag that Dorothy and Ozma had heard, but

by the time they reached the window, she was out of the garden. Thrusting a sharp stick through the neck

of the sack, the Ministers of Patch hoisted it to their shoulders and, with the bag itself swinging violently

between them, started on a run for the gates. They would never have succeeded in kidnapping Scraps

nor escaping unobserved had it not been for the foot-path. After a short nap it had grown curious about

the two strangers it had brought to the city and pattering into the royal garden began to search for them.

L. Frank Baum - Oz 21 - Gnome King Of Oz

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: