The Marvelous Land of Oz
the end of the tail he was clutching, being nothing more than a dead
branch, suddenly broke away, and the next minute the boy was rolling in
the dust of the road, while the horse and its pumpkin-headed rider
dashed on and quickly disappeared in the distance.
By the time Tip had picked himself up and cleared the dust from his
throat so he could say “Whoa!” there was no further need of saying it,
for the horse was long since out of sight.
So he did the only sensible thing he could do. He sat down and took a
good rest, and afterward began walking along the road.
“Some time I will surely overtake them,” he reflected; “for the road
will end at the gates of the Emerald City, and they can go no further
than that.”
Meantime Jack was holding fast to the post and the Saw-Horse was
tearing along the road like a racer. Neither of them knew Tip was left
behind, for the Pumpkinhead did not look around and the Saw-Horse
couldn’t.
As he rode, Jack noticed that the grass and trees had become a bright
emerald-green in color, so he guessed they were nearing the Emerald
City even before the tall spires and domes came into sight.
At length a high wall of green stone, studded thick with emeralds,
loomed up before them; and fearing the Saw-Horse would not know enough
to stop and so might smash them both against this wall, Jack ventured
to cry “Whoa!” as loud as he could.
So suddenly did the horse obey that had it not been for his post Jack
would have been pitched off head foremost, and his beautiful face
ruined.
“That was a fast ride, dear father!” he exclaimed; and then, hearing no
reply, he turned around and discovered for the first time that Tip was
not there.
This apparent desertion puzzled the Pumpkinhead, and made him uneasy.
And while he was wondering what had become of the boy, and what he
ought to do next under such trying circumstances, the gateway in the
green wall opened and a man came out.
This man was short and round, with a fat face that seemed remarkably
good-natured. He was clothed all in green and wore a high, peaked green
hat upon his head and green spectacles over his eyes. Bowing before the
Pumpkinhead he said:
“I am the Guardian of the Gates of the Emerald City. May I inquire who
you are, and what is your business?”
“My name is Jack Pumpkinhead,” returned the other, smilingly; “but as
to my business, I haven’t the least idea in the world what it is.”
The Guardian of the Gates looked surprised, and shook his head as if
dissatisfied with the reply.
“What are you, a man or a pumpkin?” he asked, politely.
“Both, if you please,” answered Jack.
“And this wooden horse—is it alive?” questioned the Guardian.
The horse rolled one knotty eye upward and winked at Jack. Then it gave
a prance and brought one leg down on the Guardian’s toes.
“Ouch!” cried the man; “I’m sorry I asked that question. But the answer
is most convincing. Have you any errand, sir, in the Emerald City?”
“It seems to me that I have,” replied the Pumpkinhead, seriously; “but
I cannot think what it is. My father knows all about it, but he is not
here.”
“This is a strange affair very strange!” declared the Guardian. “But
you seem harmless. Folks do not smile so delightfully when they mean
mischief.”
“As for that,” said Jack, “I cannot help my smile, for it is carved on
my face with a jack-knife.”
“Well, come with me into my room,” resumed the Guardian, “and I will
see what can be done for you.”
So Jack rode the Saw-Horse through the gateway into a little room built
into the wall. The Guardian pulled a bell-cord, and presently a very
tall soldier—clothed in a green uniform—entered from the opposite door.
This soldier carried a long green gun over his shoulder and had lovely
green whiskers that fell quite to his knees. The Guardian at once
addressed him, saying:
“Here is a strange gentleman who doesn’t know why he has come to the
Emerald City, or what he wants. Tell me, what shall we do with him?”
The Soldier with the Green Whiskers looked at Jack with much care and
curiosity. Finally he shook his head so positively that little waves
rippled down his whiskers, and then he said:
“I must take him to His Majesty, the Scarecrow.”
“But what will His Majesty, the Scarecrow, do with him?” asked the
Guardian of the Gates.
“That is His Majesty’s business,” returned the soldier. “I have
troubles enough of my own. All outside troubles must be turned over to
His Majesty. So put the spectacles on this fellow, and I’ll take him to
the royal palace.”
So the Guardian opened a big box of spectacles and tried to fit a pair
to Jack’s great round eyes.
“I haven’t a pair in stock that will really cover those eyes up,” said
the little man, with a sigh; “and your head is so big that I shall be
obliged to tie the spectacles on.”
“But why need I wear spectacles?” asked Jack.
“It’s the fashion here,” said the Soldier, “and they will keep you from
being blinded by the glitter and glare of the gorgeous Emerald City.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Jack. “Tie them on, by all means. I don’t wish to be
blinded.”
“Nor I!” broke in the Saw-Horse; so a pair of green spectacles was
quickly fastened over the bulging knots that served it for eyes.
Then the Soldier with the Green Whiskers led them through the inner
gate and they at once found themselves in the main street of the
magnificent Emerald City.
Sparkling green gems ornamented the fronts of the beautiful houses and
the towers and turrets were all faced with emeralds. Even the green
marble pavement glittered with precious stones, and it was indeed a
grand and marvelous sight to one who beheld it for the first time.
However, the Pumpkinhead and the Saw-Horse, knowing nothing of wealth
and beauty, paid little attention to the wonderful sights they saw
through their green spectacles. They calmly followed after the green
soldier and scarcely noticed the crowds of green people who stared at
them in surprise. When a green dog ran out and barked at them the
Saw-Horse promptly kicked at it with its wooden leg and sent the little
animal howling into one of the houses; but nothing more serious than
this happened to interrupt their progress to the royal palace.
The Pumpkinhead wanted to ride up the green marble steps and straight
into the Scarecrow’s presence; but the soldier would not permit that.
So Jack dismounted, with much difficulty, and a servant led the
Saw-Horse around to the rear while the Soldier with the Green Whiskers
escorted the Pumpkinhead into the palace, by the front entrance.
The stranger was left in a handsomely furnished waiting room while the
soldier went to announce him. It so happened that at this hour His
Majesty was at leisure and greatly bored for want of something to do,
so he ordered his visitor to be shown at once into his throne room.
Jack felt no fear or embarrassment at meeting the ruler of this
magnificent city, for he was entirely ignorant of all worldly customs.
But when he entered the room and saw for the first time His Majesty the
Scarecrow seated upon his glittering throne, he stopped short in
amazement.
His Majesty the Scarecrow
I suppose every reader of this book knows what a scarecrow is; but Jack
Pumpkinhead, never having seen such a creation, was more surprised at
meeting the remarkable King of the Emerald City than by any other one
experience of his brief life.
His Majesty the Scarecrow was dressed in a suit of faded blue clothes,
and his head was merely a small sack stuffed with straw, upon which
eyes, ears, a nose and a mouth had been rudely painted to represent a
face. The clothes were also stuffed with straw, and that so unevenly or
carelessly that his Majesty’s legs and arms seemed more bumpy than was
necessary. Upon his hands were gloves with long fingers, and these were
padded with cotton. Wisps of straw stuck out from the monarch’s coat
and also from his neck and boot-tops. Upon his head he wore a heavy
golden crown set thick with sparkling jewels, and the weight of this
crown caused his brow to sag in wrinkles, giving a thoughtful
expression to the painted face. Indeed, the crown alone betokened
majesty; in all else the, Scarecrow King was but a simple
scarecrow—flimsy, awkward, and unsubstantial.
But if the strange appearance of his Majesty the Scarecrow seemed
startling to Jack, no less wonderful was the form of the Pumpkinhead to
the Scarecrow. The purple trousers and pink waistcoat and red shirt
hung loosely over the wooden joints Tip had manufactured, and the
carved face on the pumpkin grinned perpetually, as if its wearer
considered life the jolliest thing imaginable.
At first, indeed, His Majesty thought his queer visitor was laughing at
him, and was inclined to resent such a liberty; but it was not without
reason that the Scarecrow had attained the reputation of being the
wisest personage in the Land of Oz. He made a more careful examination
of his visitor, and soon discovered that Jack’s features were carved
into a smile and that he could not look grave if he wished to.
The King was the first to speak. After regarding Jack for some minutes
he said, in a tone of wonder:
“Where on earth did you come from, and how do you happen to be alive?”
“I beg your Majesty’s pardon,” returned the Pumpkinhead; “but I do not
understand you.”
“What don’t you understand?” asked the Scarecrow.
“Why, I don’t understand your language. You see, I came from the
Country of the Gillikins, so that I am a foreigner.”
“Ah, to be sure!” exclaimed the Scarecrow. “I myself speak the language
of the Munchkins, which is also the language of the Emerald City. But
you, I suppose, speak the language of the Pumpkinheads?”
“Exactly so, your Majesty” replied the other, bowing; “so it will be
impossible for us to understand one another.”
“That is unfortunate, certainly,” said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully. “We
must have an interpreter.”
“What is an interpreter?” asked Jack.
“A person who understands both my language and your own. When I say
anything, the interpreter can tell you what I mean; and when you say
anything the interpreter can tell me what _you_ mean. For the
interpreter can speak both languages as well as understand them.”
“That is certainly clever,” said Jack, greatly pleased at finding so
simple a way out of the difficulty.
So the Scarecrow commanded the Soldier with the Green Whiskers to
search among his people until he found one who understood the language
of the Gillikins as well as the language of the Emerald City, and to
bring that person to him at once.
When the Soldier had departed the Scarecrow said:
“Won’t you take a chair while we are waiting?”
“Your Majesty forgets that I cannot understand you,” replied the
Pumpkinhead. “If you wish me to sit down you must make a sign for me to
do so.” The Scarecrow came down from his throne and rolled an armchair
to a position behind the Pumpkinhead. Then he gave Jack a sudden push
that sent him sprawling upon the cushions in so awkward a fashion that
he doubled up like a jackknife, and had hard work to untangle himself.
“Did you understand that sign?” asked His Majesty, politely.
“Perfectly,” declared Jack, reaching up his arms to turn his head to
the front, the pumpkin having twisted around upon the stick that
supported it.
“You seem hastily made,” remarked the Scarecrow, watching Jack’s
efforts to straighten himself.
“Not more so than your Majesty,” was the frank reply.
“There is this difference between us,” said the Scarecrow, “that
whereas I will bend, but not break, you will break, but not bend.”
At this moment the soldier returned leading a young girl by the hand.