Heidi: Chapter 6.

Chapter 6:
A NEW CHAPTER WITH NEW THINGS.

In a beautiful house in Frankfurt lived a sick child by the name of
Clara Sesemann. She was sitting in a comfortable rolling-chair, which
could be pushed from room to room. Clara spent most of her time in the
study, where long rows of bookcases lined the walls. This room was
used as a living-room, and here she was also given her lessons.

Clara had a pale, thin face with soft blue eyes, which at that moment
were watching the clock impatiently. At last she said: "Oh Miss
Rottenmeier, isn't it time yet?"

The lady so addressed was the housekeeper, who had lived with Clara
since Mrs. Sesemann's death. Miss Rottenmeier wore a peculiar uniform
with a long cape, and a high cap on her head. Clara's father, who was
away from home a great deal, left the entire management of the house
to this lady, on the condition that his daughter's wishes should
always be considered.

While Clara was waiting, Deta had arrived at the front door with
Heidi. She was asking the coachman who had brought her if she could go
upstairs.

"That's not my business," grumbled the coachman; "you must ring for
the butler."

Sebastian, the butler, a man with large brass buttons on his coat,
soon stood before her.

"May I see Miss Rottenmeier?" Deta asked.

"That's not my business," the butler announced. "Ring for Tinette, the
maid." With that, he disappeared.

Deta, ringing again, saw a girl with a brilliant white cap on her
head, coming down the stairway. The maid stopped half-way down and
asked scornfully: "What do you want?"

Deta repeated her wish again. Tinette told her to wait while she went
upstairs, but it did not take long before the two were asked to come
up.

Following the maid, they found themselves in the study. Deta held on
to Heidi's hand and stayed near the door.

Miss Rottenmeier, slowly getting up, approached the newcomers. She did
not seem pleased with Heidi, who wore her hat and shawl and was
looking up at the lady's headdress with innocent wonder.

"What is your name?" the lady asked.

"Heidi," was the child's clear answer.

"What? Is that a Christian name? What name did you receive in
baptism?" inquired the lady again.

"I don't remember that any more," the child replied.

"What an answer! What does that mean?" said the housekeeper, shaking
her head. "Is the child ignorant or pert, Miss Deta?"

"I shall speak for the child, if I may, madam," Deta said, after
giving Heidi a little blow for her unbecoming answer. "The child has
never been in such a fine house and does not know how to behave. I
hope the lady will forgive her manners. She is called Adelheid after
her mother, who was my sister."

"Oh well, that is better. But Miss Deta, the child seems peculiar for
her age. I thought I told you that Miss Clara's companion would have
to be twelve years old like her, to be able to share her studies. How
old is Adelheid?"

"I am sorry, but I am afraid she is somewhat younger than I thought. I
think she is about ten years old."

"Grandfather said that I was eight years old," said Heidi now. Deta
gave her another blow, but as the child had no idea why, she did not
get embarrassed.

"What, only eight years old!" Miss Rottenmeier exclaimed indignantly.
"How can we get along? What have you learned? What books have you
studied?"

"None," said Heidi.

"But how did you learn to read?"

"I can't read and Peter can't do it either," Heidi retorted.

"For mercy's sake! you cannot read?" cried the lady in her surprise.
"How is it possible? What else have you studied?"

"Nothing," replied Heidi, truthfully.

"Miss Deta, how could you bring this child?" said the housekeeper,
when she was more composed.

Deta, however, was not easily intimidated, and said: "I am sorry, but
I thought this child would suit you. She _is_ small, but older
children are often spoilt and not like her. I must go now, for my
mistress is waiting. As soon as I can, I'll come to see how the child
is getting along." With a bow she was outside and with a few quick
steps hurried down-stairs.

Miss Rottenmeier followed her and tried to call her back, for she
wanted to ask Deta a number of questions.

Heidi was still standing on the same spot. Clara had watched the
scene, and called to the child now to come to her.

Heidi approached the rolling-chair.

"Do you want to be called Heidi or Adelheid?" asked Clara.

"My name is Heidi and nothing else," was the child's answer.

"I'll call you Heidi then, for I like it very much," said Clara. "I
have never heard the name before. What curly hair you have! Was it
always like that?"

"I think so."

"Did you like to come to Frankfurt?" asked Clara again.

"Oh, no, but then I am going home again to-morrow, and shall bring
grandmother some soft white rolls," Heidi explained.

"What a curious child you are," said Clara. "You have come to
Frankfurt to stay with me, don't you know that? We shall have our
lessons together, and I think it will be great fun when you learn to
read. Generally the morning seems to have no end, for Mr. Candidate
comes at ten and stays till two. That is a long time, and he has to
yawn himself, he gets so tired. Miss Rottenmeier and he both yawn
together behind their books, but when I do it, Miss Rottenmeier makes
me take cod-liver oil and says that I am ill. So I must swallow my
yawns, for I hate the oil. What fun it will be now, when you learn to
read!"

Heidi shook her head doubtfully at these prospects.

"Everybody must learn to read, Heidi. Mr. Candidate is very patient
and will explain it all to you. You won't know what he means at first,
for it is difficult to understand him. It won't take long to learn,
though, and then you will know what he means."

When Miss Rottenmeier found that she was unable to recall Deta, she
came back to the children. She was in a very excited mood, for she
felt responsible for Heidi's coming and did not know how to cancel
this unfortunate step. She soon got up again to go to the dining-room,
criticising the butler and giving orders to the maid. Sebastian, not
daring to show his rage otherwise, noisily opened the folding doors.
When he went up to Clara's chair, he saw Heidi watching him intently.
At last she said: "You look like Peter."

Miss Rottenmeier was horrified with this remark, and sent them all
into the dining-room. After Clara was lifted on to her chair, the
housekeeper sat down beside her. Heidi was motioned to sit opposite
the lady. In that way they were placed at the enormous table. When
Heidi saw a roll on her plate, she turned to Sebastian, and pointing
at it, asked, "Can I have this?" Heidi had already great confidence in
the butler, especially on account of the resemblance she had
discovered. The butler nodded, and when he saw Heidi put the bread in
her pocket, could hardly keep from laughing. He came to Heidi now with
a dish of small baked fishes. For a long time the child did not move;
then turning her eyes to the butler, she said: "Must I eat that?"
Sebastian nodded, but another pause ensued. "Why don't you give it to
me?" the child quietly asked, looking at her plate. The butler, hardly
able to keep his countenance, was told to place the dish on the table
and leave the room.

When he was gone, Miss Rottenmeier explained to Heidi with many signs
how to help herself at table. She also told her never to speak to
Sebastian unless it was important. After that the child was told how
to accost the servants and the governess. When the question came up of
how to call Clara, the older girl said, "Of course you shall call me
Clara."

A great many rules followed now about behavior at all times, about the
shutting of doors and about going to bed, and a hundred other things.
Poor Heidi's eyes were closing, for she had risen at five that
morning, and leaning against her chair she fell asleep. When Miss
Rottenmeier had finished instructions, she said: "I hope you will
remember everything, Adelheid. Did you understand me?"

"Heidi went to sleep a long time ago," said Clara, highly amused.

"It is atrocious what I have to bear with this child," exclaimed Miss
Rottenmeier, ringing the bell with all her might. When the two
servants arrived, they were hardly able to rouse Heidi enough to show
her to her bed-room.

Heidi: Chapter 5.

CHAPTER 5:

TWO VISITORS.

Two winters had nearly passed. Heidi was happy, for the spring was
coming again, with the soft delicious wind that made the fir-trees
roar. Soon she would be able to go up to the pasture, where blue and
yellow flowers greeted her at every step. She was nearly eight years
old, and had learned to take care of the goats, who ran after her like
little dogs. Several times the village teacher had sent word by Peter
that the child was wanted in school, but the old man had not paid any
attention to the message and had kept her with him as before. It was a
beautiful morning in March. The snow had melted on the slopes, and was
going fast. Snowdrops were peeping through the ground, which seemed to
be getting ready for spring. Heidi was running to and fro before the
door, when she suddenly saw an old gentleman, dressed in black,
standing beside her. As she appeared frightened, he said kindly: "You
must not be afraid of me, for I love children. Give me your hand,
Heidi, and tell me where your grandfather is."

"He is inside, making round wooden spoons," the child replied, opening
the door while she spoke.

It was the old pastor of the village, who had known the grandfather
years ago. After entering, he approached the old man, saying:
"Good-morning, neighbor."

The old man got up, surprised, and offering a seat to the visitor,
said: "Good-morning, Mr. Parson. Here is a wooden chair, if it is good
enough."

Sitting down, the parson said: "It is long since I have seen you,
neighbor. I have come to-day to talk over a matter with you. I am sure
you can guess what it is about."

The clergyman here looked at Heidi, who was standing near the door.

"Heidi, run out to see the goats," said the grandfather, "and bring
them some salt; you can stay till I come."

Heidi disappeared on the spot. "The child should have come to school a
year ago," the parson went on to say. "Didn't you get the teacher's
warning? What do you intend to do with the child?"

"I do not want her to go to school," said the old man, unrelentingly.

"What do you want the child to be?"

"I want her to be free and happy as a bird!"

"But she is human, and it is high time for her to learn something. I
have come now to tell you about it, so that you can make your plans.
She must come to school next winter; remember that."

"I shan't do it, pastor!" was the reply.

"Do you think there is no way?" the clergyman replied, a little hotly.
"You know the world, for you have travelled far. What little sense you
show!"

"You think I am going to send this delicate child to school in every
storm and weather!" the old man said excitedly. "It is a two hours'
walk, and I shall not let her go; for the wind often howls so that it
chokes me if I venture out. Did you know Adelheid, her mother? She was
a sleep-walker, and had fainting-fits. Nobody shall compel me to let
her go; I will gladly fight it out in court."

"You are perfectly right," said the clergyman kindly. "You could not
send her to school from here. Why don't you come down to live among us
again? You are leading a strange life here; I wonder how you can keep
the child warm in winter."

"She has young blood and a good cover. I know where to find good wood,
and all winter I keep a fire going. I couldn't live in the village,
for the people there and I despise each other; we had better keep
apart."

"You are mistaken, I assure you! Make your peace with God, and then
you'll see how happy you will be."

The clergyman had risen, and holding out his hand, he said cordially:
"I shall count on you next winter, neighbor. We shall receive you
gladly, reconciled with God and man."

But the uncle replied firmly, while he shook his visitor by the hand:
"Thank you for your kindness, but you will have to wait in vain."

"God be with you," said the parson, and left him sadly.

The old man was out of humor that day, and when Heidi begged to go to
the grandmother, he only growled: "Not to-day." Next day they had
hardly finished their dinner, when another visitor arrived. It was
Heidi's aunt Deta; she wore a hat with feathers and a dress with such
a train that it swept up everything that lay on the cottage floor.
While the uncle looked at her silently, Deta began to praise him and
the child's red cheeks. She told him that it had not been her
intention to leave Heidi with him long, for she knew she must be in
his way. She had tried to provide for the child elsewhere, and at
last she had found a splendid chance for her. Very rich relations of
her lady, who owned the largest house in Frankfurt, had a lame
daughter. This poor little girl was confined to her rolling-chair and
needed a companion at her lessons. Deta had heard from her lady that a
sweet, quaint child was wanted as playmate and schoolmate for the
invalid. She had gone to the housekeeper and told her all about Heidi.
The lady, delighted with the idea, had told her to fetch the child at
once. She had come now, and it was a lucky chance for Heidi, "for one
never knew what might happen in such a case, and who could tell--"

"Have you finished?" the old man interrupted her at last.

"Why, one might think I was telling you the silliest things. There is
not a man in Praetiggan who would not thank God for such news."

"Bring them to somebody else, but not to me," said the uncle, coldly.

Deta, flaming up, replied: "Do you want to hear what I think? Don't I
know how old she is; eight years old and ignorant of everything. They
have told me that you refuse to send her to church and to school. She
is my only sister's child, and I shall not bear it, for I am
responsible. You do not care for her, how else could you be
indifferent to such luck. You had better give way or I shall get the
people to back me. If I were you, I would not have it brought to
court; some things might be warmed up that you would not care to hear
about."

"Be quiet!" the uncle thundered with flaming eyes. "Take her and ruin
her, but do not bring her before my sight again. I do not want to see
her with feathers in her hat and wicked words like yours."

With long strides he went out.

"You have made him angry!" said Heidi with a furious look.

"He won't be cross long. But come now, where are your things?" asked
Deta.

"I won't come," Heidi replied.

"What?" Deta said passionately. But changing her tone, she continued
in a more friendly manner: "Come now; you don't understand me. I am
taking you to the most beautiful place you have ever seen." After
packing up Heidi's clothes she said again, "Come, child, and take your
hat. It is not very nice, but we can't help it."

"I shall not come," was the reply.

"Don't be stupid and obstinate, like a goat. Listen to me. Grandfather
is sending us away and we must do what he commands, or he will get
more angry still. You'll see how fine it is in Frankfurt. If you do
not like it, you can come home again and by that time grandfather will
have forgiven us."

"Can I come home again to-night?" asked Heidi.

"Come now, I told you you could come back. If we get to Mayenfeld
today, we can take the train to-morrow. That will make you fly home
again in the shortest time!"

Holding the bundle, Deta led the child down the mountain. On their
way they met Peter, who had not gone to school that day. The boy
thought it was a more useful occupation to look for hazel-rods than to
learn to read, for he always needed the rods. He had had a most
successful day, for he carried an enormous bundle on his shoulder.
When he caught sight of Heidi and Deta, he asked them where they were
going.

"I am going to Frankfurt with Aunt Deta," Heidi replied; "but first I
must see grandmother, for she is waiting."

"Oh no, it is too late. You can see her when you come back, but not
now," said Deta, pulling Heidi along with her, for she was afraid that
the old woman might detain the child.

Peter ran into the cottage and hit the table with his rods. The
grandmother jumped up in her fright and asked him what that meant.

"They have taken Heidi away," Peter said with a groan.

"Who has, Peter? Where has she gone?" the unhappy grandmother asked.
Brigida had seen Deta walking up the footpath a short while ago and
soon they guessed what had happened. With a trembling hand the old
woman opened a window and called out as loudly as she could: "Deta,
Deta, don't take the child away. Don't take her from us."

When Heidi heard that she struggled to get free, and said: "I must go
to grandmother; she is calling me."

But Deta would not let her go. She urged her on by saying that she
might return soon again. She also suggested that Heidi might bring a
lovely present to the grandmother when she came back.

Heidi liked this prospect and followed Deta without more ado. After a
while she asked: "What shall I bring to the grandmother?"

"You might bring her some soft white rolls, Heidi. I think the black
bread is too hard for poor grandmother to eat."

"Yes, I know, aunt, she always gives it to Peter," Heidi confirmed
her. "We must go quickly now; we might get to Frankfurt today and
then I can be back tomorrow with the rolls."

[Illustration: WHEN HEIDI HEARD THAT SHE STRUGGLED TO GET FREE]

Heidi was running now, and Deta had to follow. She was glad enough to
escape the questions that people might ask her in the village. People
could see that Heidi was pulling her along, so she said: "I can't
stop. Don't you see how the child is hurrying? We have still far to
go," whenever she heard from all sides: "Are you taking her with you?"
"Is she running away from the uncle?" "What a wonder she is still
alive!" "What red cheeks she has," and so on. Soon they had escaped
and had left the village far behind them.

From that time on the uncle looked more angry than ever when he came
to the village. Everybody was afraid of him, and the women would warn
their children to keep out of his sight.

He came down but seldom, and then only to sell his cheese and buy his
provisions. Often people remarked how lucky it was that Heidi had left
him. They had seen her hurrying away, so they thought that she had
been glad to go.

The old grandmother alone stuck to him faithfully. Whenever anybody
came up to her, she would tell them what good care the old man had
taken of Heidi. She also told them that he had mended her little
house. These reports reached the village, of course, but people only
half believed them, for the grandmother was infirm and old. She began
her days with sighing again. "All happiness has left us with the
child. The days are so long and dreary, and I have no joy left. If
only I could hear Heidi's voice before I die," the poor old woman
would exclaim, day after day.

Talking Books: Heidi, Chapter Four, Part 3

Heidi

Chapter Four,

Part 3

Heidi could hardly wait before they reached the cottage. She had tried
to talk on the way, but no sound could be heard through the heavy
cover. As soon as they were inside the hut she began: "Grandfather, we
must take some nails and a hammer down tomorrow; a shutter is loose in
grandmother's house and many other places shake. Everything rattles in
her house."

"Is that so? Who says we must?"

"Nobody told me, but I know," Heidi replied. "Everything is loose in
the house, and poor grandmother told me she was afraid that the house
might tumble down. And grandfather, she cannot see the light. Can you
help her and make it light for her? How terrible it must be to be
afraid in the dark and nobody there to help you! Oh, please,
grandfather, do something to help her! I know you can."

Heidi had been clinging to her grandfather and looking up to him with
trusting eyes. At last he said, glancing down: "All right, child,
we'll see that it won't rattle any more. We can do it tomorrow."

Heidi was so overjoyed at these words that she danced around the room
shouting: "We'll do it tomorrow! We can do it tomorrow!"

The grandfather, keeping his word, took Heidi down the following day
with the same instructions as before. After Heidi had disappeared, he
went around the house inspecting it.

The grandmother, in her joy at seeing the child again, had stopped the
wheel and called: "Here is the child again! She has come again!"
Heidi, grasping her outstretched hands, sat herself on a low stool at
the old woman's feet and began to chat. Suddenly violent blows were
heard outside; the grandmother in her fright nearly upset the
spinning-wheel and screamed: "Oh, God, it has come at last. The hut is
tumbling down!"

"Grandmother, don't be frightened," said the child, while she put her
arms around her. "Grandfather is just fastening the shutter and fixing
everything for you."

"Is it possible? Has God not forgotten us after all? Brigida, have you
heard it? Surely that is a hammer. Ask him to come in a moment, if it
is he, for I must thank him."

When Brigida went out, she found the old man busy with putting a new
beam along the wall. Approaching him, she said: "Mother and I wish you
a good-afternoon. We are very much obliged to you for doing us such a
service, and mother would like to see you. There are few that would
have done it, uncle, and how can we thank you?"

"That will do," he interrupted. "I know what your opinion about me is.
Go in, for I can find what needs mending myself."

Brigida obeyed, for the uncle had a way that nobody could oppose. All
afternoon the uncle hammered around; he even climbed up on the roof,
where much was missing. At last he had to stop, for the last nail was
gone from his pocket. The darkness had come in the meantime, and
Heidi was ready to go up with him, packed warmly in his arms.

Thus the winter passed. Sunshine had come again into the blind woman's
life, and made her days less dark and dreary. Early every morning she
would begin to listen for Heidi's footsteps, and when the door was
opened and the child ran in, the grandmother exclaimed every time more
joyfully: "Thank God, she has come again!"

Heidi would talk about her life, and make the grandmother smile and
laugh, and in that way the hours flew by. In former times the old
woman had always sighed: "Brigida, is the day not over yet?" but now
she always exclaimed after Heidi's departure: "How quickly the
afternoon has gone by. Don't you think so, too, Brigida?" Her daughter
had to assent, for Heidi had long ago won her heart. "If only God will
spare us the child!" the grandmother would often say. "I hope the
uncle will always be kind, as he is now."--"Does Heidi look well,
Brigida?" was a frequent question, which always got a reassuring
answer.

Heidi also became very fond of the old grandmother, and when the
weather was fair, she visited her every day that winter. Whenever the
child remembered that the grandmother was blind, she would get very
sad; her only comfort was that her coming brought such happiness. The
grandfather soon had mended the cottage; often he would take down big
loads of timber, which he used to good purpose. The grandmother vowed
that no rattling could be heard any more, and that, thanks to the
uncle's kindness, she slept better that winter than she had done for
many a year.

The Wizard of Oz: Chapter 14.

Chapter 14, The Winged Monkeys.

You will remember there was no road--not even a pathway--
between the castle of the Wicked Witch and the Emerald City.
When the four travelers went in search of the Witch she had seen
them coming, and so sent the Winged Monkeys to bring them to her.
It was much harder to find their way back through the big fields
of buttercups and yellow daisies than it was being carried.
They knew, of course, they must go straight east, toward the rising
sun; and they started off in the right way. But at noon, when the
sun was over their heads, they did not know which was east and
which was west, and that was the reason they were lost in the
great fields. They kept on walking, however, and at night the
moon came out and shone brightly. So they lay down among the
sweet smelling yellow flowers and slept soundly until morning--
all but the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman.

The next morning the sun was behind a cloud, but they started
on, as if they were quite sure which way they were going.

"If we walk far enough," said Dorothy, "I am sure we shall
sometime come to some place."

But day by day passed away, and they still saw nothing before
them but the scarlet fields. The Scarecrow began to grumble a bit.

"We have surely lost our way," he said, "and unless we find it
again in time to reach the Emerald City, I shall never get my brains."

"Nor I my heart," declared the Tin Woodman. "It seems to me I
can scarcely wait till I get to Oz, and you must admit this is a
very long journey."

"You see," said the Cowardly Lion, with a whimper, "I haven't the
courage to keep tramping forever, without getting anywhere at all."

Then Dorothy lost heart. She sat down on the grass and looked
at her companions, and they sat down and looked at her, and Toto
found that for the first time in his life he was too tired to
chase a butterfly that flew past his head. So he put out his
tongue and panted and looked at Dorothy as if to ask what they
should do next.

"Suppose we call the field mice," she suggested. "They could
probably tell us the way to the Emerald City."

"To be sure they could," cried the Scarecrow. "Why didn't we
think of that before?"

Dorothy blew the little whistle she had always carried about
her neck since the Queen of the Mice had given it to her. In a
few minutes they heard the pattering of tiny feet, and many of the
small gray mice came running up to her. Among them was the Queen
herself, who asked, in her squeaky little voice:

"What can I do for my friends?"

"We have lost our way," said Dorothy. "Can you tell us where
the Emerald City is?"

"Certainly," answered the Queen; "but it is a great way off,
for you have had it at your backs all this time." Then she
noticed Dorothy's Golden Cap, and said, "Why don't you use the
charm of the Cap, and call the Winged Monkeys to you? They will
carry you to the City of Oz in less than an hour."

"I didn't know there was a charm," answered Dorothy, in
surprise. "What is it?"

"It is written inside the Golden Cap," replied the Queen of
the Mice. "But if you are going to call the Winged Monkeys we
must run away, for they are full of mischief and think it great
fun to plague us."

"Won't they hurt me?" asked the girl anxiously.

"Oh, no. They must obey the wearer of the Cap. Good-bye!"
And she scampered out of sight, with all the mice hurrying after her.

Dorothy looked inside the Golden Cap and saw some words written
upon the lining. These, she thought, must be the charm, so she read
the directions carefully and put the Cap upon her head.

"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!" she said, standing on her left foot.

"What did you say?" asked the Scarecrow, who did not know what
she was doing.

"Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!" Dorothy went on, standing this time
on her right foot.

"Hello!" replied the Tin Woodman calmly.

"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!" said Dorothy, who was now standing on
both feet. This ended the saying of the charm, and they heard a
great chattering and flapping of wings, as the band of Winged
Monkeys flew up to them.

The King bowed low before Dorothy, and asked, "What is your command?"

"We wish to go to the Emerald City," said the child, "and we have
lost our way."

"We will carry you," replied the King, and no sooner had he
spoken than two of the Monkeys caught Dorothy in their arms and
flew away with her. Others took the Scarecrow and the Woodman and
the Lion, and one little Monkey seized Toto and flew after them,
although the dog tried hard to bite him.

The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were rather frightened at
first, for they remembered how badly the Winged Monkeys had
treated them before; but they saw that no harm was intended, so
they rode through the air quite cheerfully, and had a fine time
looking at the pretty gardens and woods far below them.

Dorothy found herself riding easily between two of the biggest
Monkeys, one of them the King himself. They had made a chair of
their hands and were careful not to hurt her.

"Why do you have to obey the charm of the Golden Cap?" she asked.

"That is a long story," answered the King, with a Winged laugh;
"but as we have a long journey before us, I will pass the time by
telling you about it, if you wish."

"I shall be glad to hear it," she replied.

"Once," began the leader, "we were a free people, living happily
in the great forest, flying from tree to tree, eating nuts and fruit,
and doing just as we pleased without calling anybody master. Perhaps
some of us were rather too full of mischief at times, flying down to
pull the tails of the animals that had no wings, chasing birds, and
throwing nuts at the people who walked in the forest. But we were
careless and happy and full of fun, and enjoyed every minute of the day.
This was many years ago, long before Oz came out of the clouds to rule
over this land.

"There lived here then, away at the North, a beautiful princess,
who was also a powerful sorceress. All her magic was used to help
the people, and she was never known to hurt anyone who was good.
Her name was Gayelette, and she lived in a handsome palace built
from great blocks of ruby. Everyone loved her, but her greatest
sorrow was that she could find no one to love in return, since all
the men were much too stupid and ugly to mate with one so beautiful
and wise. At last, however, she found a boy who was handsome and
manly and wise beyond his years. Gayelette made up her mind that
when he grew to be a man she would make him her husband, so she
took him to her ruby palace and used all her magic powers to
make him as strong and good and lovely as any woman could wish.
When he grew to manhood, Quelala, as he was called, was said to
be the best and wisest man in all the land, while his manly beauty
was so great that Gayelette loved him dearly, and hastened to make
everything ready for the wedding.

"My grandfather was at that time the King of the Winged Monkeys
which lived in the forest near Gayelette's palace, and the old fellow
loved a joke better than a good dinner. One day, just before the wedding,
my grandfather was flying out with his band when he saw Quelala walking
beside the river. He was dressed in a rich costume of pink silk and
purple velvet, and my grandfather thought he would see what he could do.
At his word the band flew down and seized Quelala, carried him in their
arms until they were over the middle of the river, and then dropped him
into the water.

"`Swim out, my fine fellow,' cried my grandfather, `and see if
the water has spotted your clothes.' Quelala was much too wise
not to swim, and he was not in the least spoiled by all his good
fortune. He laughed, when he came to the top of the water, and
swam in to shore. But when Gayelette came running out to him she
found his silks and velvet all ruined by the river.

"The princess was angry, and she knew, of course, who did it.
She had all the Winged Monkeys brought before her, and she said at
first that their wings should be tied and they should be treated
as they had treated Quelala, and dropped in the river. But my
grandfather pleaded hard, for he knew the Monkeys would drown in
the river with their wings tied, and Quelala said a kind word for
them also; so that Gayelette finally spared them, on condition
that the Winged Monkeys should ever after do three times the
bidding of the owner of the Golden Cap. This Cap had been made
for a wedding present to Quelala, and it is said to have cost the
princess half her kingdom. Of course my grandfather and all the
other Monkeys at once agreed to the condition, and that is how it
happens that we are three times the slaves of the owner of the
Golden Cap, whosoever he may be."

"And what became of them?" asked Dorothy, who had been greatly
interested in the story.

"Quelala being the first owner of the Golden Cap," replied
the Monkey, "he was the first to lay his wishes upon us. As his
bride could not bear the sight of us, he called us all to him in
the forest after he had married her and ordered us always to keep
where she could never again set eyes on a Winged Monkey, which we
were glad to do, for we were all afraid of her.

"This was all we ever had to do until the Golden Cap fell into
the hands of the Wicked Witch of the West, who made us enslave the
Winkies, and afterward drive Oz himself out of the Land of the
West. Now the Golden Cap is yours, and three times you have the
right to lay your wishes upon us."

As the Monkey King finished his story Dorothy looked down
and saw the green, shining walls of the Emerald City before them.
She wondered at the rapid flight of the Monkeys, but was glad the
journey was over. The strange creatures set the travelers down
carefully before the gate of the City, the King bowed low to
Dorothy, and then flew swiftly away, followed by all his band.

"That was a good ride," said the little girl.

"Yes, and a quick way out of our troubles," replied the Lion.
"How lucky it was you brought away that wonderful Cap!"

The Wizard of Oz: Chapter 13

The Wizard of Oz, Chapter 13. The Rescue.

The Cowardly Lion was much pleased to hear that the Wicked Witch had been melted by a bucket of water, and Dorothy at once unlocked the gate of his prison and set him free. They went in together to the castle, where Dorothy's first act was to call all the Winkies together and tell them that they were no longer slaves.

There was great rejoicing among the yellow Winkies, for they had been made to work hard during many years for the Wicked Witch, who had always treated them with great cruelty. They kept this day as a holiday, then and ever after, and spent the time in feasting and dancing.

"If our friends, the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman, were only
with us," said the Lion, "I should be quite happy."

"Don't you suppose we could rescue them?" asked the girl anxiously.

"We can try," answered the Lion.

So they called the yellow Winkies and asked them if they would
help to rescue their friends, and the Winkies said that they would
be delighted to do all in their power for Dorothy, who had set them
free from bondage. So she chose a number of the Winkies who looked
as if they knew the most, and they all started away. They traveled
that day and part of the next until they came to the rocky plain
where the Tin Woodman lay, all battered and bent. His axe was near him,
but the blade was rusted and the handle broken off short.

The Winkies lifted him tenderly in their arms, and carried him
back to the Yellow Castle again, Dorothy shedding a few tears by
the way at the sad plight of her old friend, and the Lion looking
sober and sorry. When they reached the castle Dorothy said to the
Winkies:

"Are any of your people tinsmiths?"

"Oh, yes. Some of us are very good tinsmiths," they told her.

"Then bring them to me," she said. And when the tinsmiths came,
bringing with them all their tools in baskets, she inquired,
"Can you straighten out those dents in the Tin Woodman, and bend him
back into shape again, and solder him together where he is broken?"

The tinsmiths looked the Woodman over carefully and then
answered that they thought they could mend him so he would be as
good as ever. So they set to work in one of the big yellow rooms
of the castle and worked for three days and four nights, hammering
and twisting and bending and soldering and polishing and pounding
at the legs and body and head of the Tin Woodman, until at last he
was straightened out into his old form, and his joints worked as
well as ever. To be sure, there were several patches on him, but
the tinsmiths did a good job, and as the Woodman was not a vain
man he did not mind the patches at all.

When, at last, he walked into Dorothy's room and thanked her
for rescuing him, he was so pleased that he wept tears of joy,
and Dorothy had to wipe every tear carefully from his face with
her apron, so his joints would not be rusted. At the same time
her own tears fell thick and fast at the joy of meeting her old
friend again, and these tears did not need to be wiped away. As
for the Lion, he wiped his eyes so often with the tip of his tail
that it became quite wet, and he was obliged to go out into the
courtyard and hold it in the sun till it dried.

"If we only had the Scarecrow with us again," said the
Tin Woodman, when Dorothy had finished telling him everything
that had happened, "I should be quite happy."

"We must try to find him," said the girl.

So she called the Winkies to help her, and they walked all that day
and part of the next until they came to the tall tree in the branches of
which the Winged Monkeys had tossed the Scarecrow's clothes.

It was a very tall tree, and the trunk was so smooth that no
one could climb it; but the Woodman said at once, "I'll chop it
down, and then we can get the Scarecrow's clothes."

Now while the tinsmiths had been at work mending the Woodman
himself, another of the Winkies, who was a goldsmith, had made an
axe-handle of solid gold and fitted it to the Woodman's axe,
instead of the old broken handle. Others polished the blade until
all the rust was removed and it glistened like burnished silver.

As soon as he had spoken, the Tin Woodman began to chop, and in a
short time the tree fell over with a crash, whereupon the Scarecrow's
clothes fell out of the branches and rolled off on the ground.

Dorothy picked them up and had the Winkies carry them back to
the castle, where they were stuffed with nice, clean straw; and
behold! here was the Scarecrow, as good as ever, thanking them
over and over again for saving him.

Now that they were reunited, Dorothy and her friends spent a
few happy days at the Yellow Castle, where they found everything
they needed to make them comfortable.

But one day the girl thought of Aunt Em, and said, "We must go
back to Oz, and claim his promise."

"Yes," said the Woodman, "at last I shall get my heart."

"And I shall get my brains," added the Scarecrow joyfully.

"And I shall get my courage," said the Lion thoughtfully.

"And I shall get back to Kansas," cried Dorothy, clapping her hands.
"Oh, let us start for the Emerald City tomorrow!"

This they decided to do. The next day they called the Winkies
together and bade them good-bye. The Winkies were sorry to have
them go, and they had grown so fond of the Tin Woodman that they
begged him to stay and rule over them and the Yellow Land of the West.
Finding they were determined to go, the Winkies gave Toto and the Lion
each a golden collar; and to Dorothy they presented a beautiful bracelet
studded with diamonds; and to the Scarecrow they gave a gold-headed
walking stick, to keep him from stumbling; and to the Tin Woodman they
offered a silver oil-can, inlaid with gold and set with precious jewels.

Every one of the travelers made the Winkies a pretty speech in
return, and all shook hands with them until their arms ached.

Dorothy went to the Witch's cupboard to fill her basket with
food for the journey, and there she saw the Golden Cap. She tried
it on her own head and found that it fitted her exactly. She did
not know anything about the charm of the Golden Cap, but she saw
that it was pretty, so she made up her mind to wear it and carry
her sunbonnet in the basket.

Then, being prepared for the journey, they all started for the
Emerald City; and the Winkies gave them three cheers and many good
wishes to carry with them.

The Wizard of Oz, Chapter 12

Chapter 12. The Search for the Wicked Witch


The soldier with the green whiskers led them through the
streets of the Emerald City until they reached the room where the
Guardian of the Gates lived. This officer unlocked their spectacles
to put them back in his great box, and then he politely opened the
gate for our friends.

"Which road leads to the Wicked Witch of the West?" asked
Dorothy.

"There is no road," answered the Guardian of the Gates.
"No one ever wishes to go that way."

"How, then, are we to find her?" inquired the girl.

"That will be easy," replied the man, "for when she knows you
are in the country of the Winkies she will find you, and make you
all her slaves."

"Perhaps not," said the Scarecrow, "for we mean to destroy her."

"Oh, that is different," said the Guardian of the Gates.
"No one has ever destroyed her before, so I naturally thought she
would make slaves of you, as she has of the rest. But take care;
for she is wicked and fierce, and may not allow you to destroy her.
Keep to the West, where the sun sets, and you cannot fail to find her."

They thanked him and bade him good-bye, and turned toward the West,
walking over fields of soft grass dotted here and there with daisies
and buttercups. Dorothy still wore the pretty silk dress she had put on
in the palace, but now, to her surprise, she found it was no longer green,
but pure white. The ribbon around Toto's neck had also lost its green
color and was as white as Dorothy's dress.

The Emerald City was soon left far behind. As they advanced
the ground became rougher and hillier, for there were no farms nor
houses in this country of the West, and the ground was untilled.

In the afternoon the sun shone hot in their faces, for there
were no trees to offer them shade; so that before night Dorothy
and Toto and the Lion were tired, and lay down upon the grass and
fell asleep, with the Woodman and the Scarecrow keeping watch.

Now the Wicked Witch of the West had but one eye, yet that was as
powerful as a telescope, and could see everywhere. So, as she sat in
the door of her castle, she happened to look around and saw Dorothy
lying asleep, with her friends all about her. They were a long
distance off, but the Wicked Witch was angry to find them in her
country; so she blew upon a silver whistle that hung around her neck.

At once there came running to her from all directions a pack
of great wolves. They had long legs and fierce eyes and sharp teeth.

"Go to those people," said the Witch, "and tear them to pieces."

"Are you not going to make them your slaves?" asked the leader
of the wolves.

"No," she answered, "one is of tin, and one of straw; one is
a girl and another a Lion. None of them is fit to work, so you
may tear them into small pieces."

"Very well," said the wolf, and he dashed away at full speed,
followed by the others.

It was lucky the Scarecrow and the Woodman were wide awake and
heard the wolves coming.

"This is my fight," said the Woodman, "so get behind me and I
will meet them as they come."

He seized his axe, which he had made very sharp, and as the
leader of the wolves came on the Tin Woodman swung his arm and
chopped the wolf's head from its body, so that it immediately died.
As soon as he could raise his axe another wolf came up, and he also
fell under the sharp edge of the Tin Woodman's weapon. There were
forty wolves, and forty times a wolf was killed, so that at last
they all lay dead in a heap before the Woodman.

Then he put down his axe and sat beside the Scarecrow, who said,
"It was a good fight, friend."

They waited until Dorothy awoke the next morning. The little
girl was quite frightened when she saw the great pile of shaggy
wolves, but the Tin Woodman told her all. She thanked him for
saving them and sat down to breakfast, after which they started
again upon their journey.

Now this same morning the Wicked Witch came to the door of her
castle and looked out with her one eye that could see far off.
She saw all her wolves lying dead, and the strangers still
traveling through her country. This made her angrier than before,
and she blew her silver whistle twice.

Straightway a great flock of wild crows came flying toward her,
enough to darken the sky.

And the Wicked Witch said to the King Crow, "Fly at once to
the strangers; peck out their eyes and tear them to pieces."

The wild crows flew in one great flock toward Dorothy and her
companions. When the little girl saw them coming she was afraid.

But the Scarecrow said, "This is my battle, so lie down beside
me and you will not be harmed."

So they all lay upon the ground except the Scarecrow, and he
stood up and stretched out his arms. And when the crows saw him
they were frightened, as these birds always are by scarecrows, and
did not dare to come any nearer. But the King Crow said:

"It is only a stuffed man. I will peck his eyes out."

The King Crow flew at the Scarecrow, who caught it by the head
and twisted its neck until it died. And then another crow flew at
him, and the Scarecrow twisted its neck also. There were forty
crows, and forty times the Scarecrow twisted a neck, until at last
all were lying dead beside him. Then he called to his companions
to rise, and again they went upon their journey.

When the Wicked Witch looked out again and saw all her crows
lying in a heap, she got into a terrible rage, and blew three
times upon her silver whistle.

Forthwith there was heard a great buzzing in the air, and a
swarm of black bees came flying toward her.

"Go to the strangers and sting them to death!" commanded
the Witch, and the bees turned and flew rapidly until they came
to where Dorothy and her friends were walking. But the Woodman
had seen them coming, and the Scarecrow had decided what to do.

"Take out my straw and scatter it over the little girl and the
dog and the Lion," he said to the Woodman, "and the bees cannot
sting them." This the Woodman did, and as Dorothy lay close beside
the Lion and held Toto in her arms, the straw covered them entirely.

The bees came and found no one but the Woodman to sting, so
they flew at him and broke off all their stings against the tin,
without hurting the Woodman at all. And as bees cannot live when
their stings are broken that was the end of the black bees, and
they lay scattered thick about the Woodman, like little heaps of
fine coal.

Then Dorothy and the Lion got up, and the girl helped the Tin
Woodman put the straw back into the Scarecrow again, until he was
as good as ever. So they started upon their journey once more.

The Wicked Witch was so angry when she saw her black bees in
little heaps like fine coal that she stamped her foot and tore her
hair and gnashed her teeth. And then she called a dozen of her
slaves, who were the Winkies, and gave them sharp spears, telling
them to go to the strangers and destroy them.

The Winkies were not a brave people, but they had to do as
they were told. So they marched away until they came near to
Dorothy. Then the Lion gave a great roar and sprang towards them,
and the poor Winkies were so frightened that they ran back as fast
as they could.

When they returned to the castle the Wicked Witch beat them
well with a strap, and sent them back to their work, after which
she sat down to think what she should do next. She could not
understand how all her plans to destroy these strangers had failed;
but she was a powerful Witch, as well as a wicked one, and she soon
made up her mind how to act.

There was, in her cupboard, a Golden Cap, with a circle of
diamonds and rubies running round it. This Golden Cap had a charm.
Whoever owned it could call three times upon the Winged Monkeys,
who would obey any order they were given. But no person
could command these strange creatures more than three times.
Twice already the Wicked Witch had used the charm of the Cap.
Once was when she had made the Winkies her slaves, and set herself
to rule over their country. The Winged Monkeys had helped her
do this. The second time was when she had fought against the
Great Oz himself, and driven him out of the land of the West.
The Winged Monkeys had also helped her in doing this. Only once
more could she use this Golden Cap, for which reason she did not
like to do so until all her other powers were exhausted. But now
that her fierce wolves and her wild crows and her stinging bees were
gone, and her slaves had been scared away by the Cowardly Lion,
she saw there was only one way left to destroy Dorothy and her friends.

So the Wicked Witch took the Golden Cap from her cupboard and
placed it upon her head. Then she stood upon her left foot and
said slowly:

"Ep-pe, pep-pe, kak-ke!"

Next she stood upon her right foot and said:

"Hil-lo, hol-lo, hel-lo!"

After this she stood upon both feet and cried in a loud voice:

"Ziz-zy, zuz-zy, zik!"

Now the charm began to work. The sky was darkened, and a low
rumbling sound was heard in the air. There was a rushing of many
wings, a great chattering and laughing, and the sun came out of the
dark sky to show the Wicked Witch surrounded by a crowd of monkeys,
each with a pair of immense and powerful wings on his shoulders.

One, much bigger than the others, seemed to be their leader.
He flew close to the Witch and said, "You have called us for the
third and last time. What do you command?"

"Go to the strangers who are within my land and destroy them
all except the Lion," said the Wicked Witch. "Bring that beast to
me, for I have a mind to harness him like a horse, and make him work."

"Your commands shall be obeyed," said the leader. Then, with
a great deal of chattering and noise, the Winged Monkeys flew away
to the place where Dorothy and her friends were walking.

Some of the Monkeys seized the Tin Woodman and carried him
through the air until they were over a country thickly covered
with sharp rocks. Here they dropped the poor Woodman, who fell a
great distance to the rocks, where he lay so battered and dented
that he could neither move nor groan.

Others of the Monkeys caught the Scarecrow, and with their
long fingers pulled all of the straw out of his clothes and head.
They made his hat and boots and clothes into a small bundle and
threw it into the top branches of a tall tree.

The remaining Monkeys threw pieces of stout rope around
the Lion and wound many coils about his body and head and legs,
until he was unable to bite or scratch or struggle in any way.
Then they lifted him up and flew away with him to the Witch's castle,
where he was placed in a small yard with a high iron fence around it,
so that he could not escape.

But Dorothy they did not harm at all. She stood, with Toto in
her arms, watching the sad fate of her comrades and thinking it
would soon be her turn. The leader of the Winged Monkeys flew up
to her, his long, hairy arms stretched out and his ugly face
grinning terribly; but he saw the mark of the Good Witch's kiss
upon her forehead and stopped short, motioning the others not to
touch her.

"We dare not harm this little girl," he said to them, "for she
is protected by the Power of Good, and that is greater than the
Power of Evil. All we can do is to carry her to the castle of the
Wicked Witch and leave her there."

So, carefully and gently, they lifted Dorothy in their
arms and carried her swiftly through the air until they came
to the castle, where they set her down upon the front doorstep.
Then the leader said to the Witch:

"We have obeyed you as far as we were able. The Tin Woodman and
the Scarecrow are destroyed, and the Lion is tied up in your yard.
The little girl we dare not harm, nor the dog she carries in her arms.
Your power over our band is now ended, and you will never see us again."

Then all the Winged Monkeys, with much laughing and chattering
and noise, flew into the air and were soon out of sight.

The Wicked Witch was both surprised and worried when she saw
the mark on Dorothy's forehead, for she knew well that neither the
Winged Monkeys nor she, herself, dare hurt the girl in any way.
She looked down at Dorothy's feet, and seeing the Silver Shoes,
began to tremble with fear, for she knew what a powerful charm
belonged to them. At first the Witch was tempted to run away from
Dorothy; but she happened to look into the child's eyes and saw
how simple the soul behind them was, and that the little girl did
not know of the wonderful power the Silver Shoes gave her. So the
Wicked Witch laughed to herself, and thought, "I can still make
her my slave, for she does not know how to use her power."
Then she said to Dorothy, harshly and severely:

"Come with me; and see that you mind everything I tell you,
for if you do not I will make an end of you, as I did of the Tin
Woodman and the Scarecrow."

Dorothy followed her through many of the beautiful rooms in
her castle until they came to the kitchen, where the Witch bade
her clean the pots and kettles and sweep the floor and keep the
fire fed with wood.

Dorothy went to work meekly, with her mind made up to work as
hard as she could; for she was glad the Wicked Witch had decided
not to kill her.

With Dorothy hard at work, the Witch thought she would go into
the courtyard and harness the Cowardly Lion like a horse; it would
amuse her, she was sure, to make him draw her chariot whenever she
wished to go to drive. But as she opened the gate the Lion gave a
loud roar and bounded at her so fiercely that the Witch was afraid,
and ran out and shut the gate again.

"If I cannot harness you," said the Witch to the Lion,
speaking through the bars of the gate, "I can starve you.
You shall have nothing to eat until you do as I wish."

So after that she took no food to the imprisoned Lion;
but every day she came to the gate at noon and asked, "Are you
ready to be harnessed like a horse?"

And the Lion would answer, "No. If you come in this yard, I
will bite you."

The reason the Lion did not have to do as the Witch wished was
that every night, while the woman was asleep, Dorothy carried him
food from the cupboard. After he had eaten he would lie down on
his bed of straw, and Dorothy would lie beside him and put her
head on his soft, shaggy mane, while they talked of their troubles
and tried to plan some way to escape. But they could find no way
to get out of the castle, for it was constantly guarded by the
yellow Winkies, who were the slaves of the Wicked Witch and
too afraid of her not to do as she told them.

The girl had to work hard during the day, and often the Witch
threatened to beat her with the same old umbrella she always
carried in her hand. But, in truth, she did not dare to strike
Dorothy, because of the mark upon her forehead. The child did not
know this, and was full of fear for herself and Toto. Once the
Witch struck Toto a blow with her umbrella and the brave little
dog flew at her and bit her leg in return. The Witch did not
bleed where she was bitten, for she was so wicked that the blood
in her had dried up many years before.

Dorothy's life became very sad as she grew to understand that
it would be harder than ever to get back to Kansas and Aunt Em again.
Sometimes she would cry bitterly for hours, with Toto sitting at her
feet and looking into her face, whining dismally to show how sorry
he was for his little mistress. Toto did not really care whether
he was in Kansas or the Land of Oz so long as Dorothy was with him;
but he knew the little girl was unhappy, and that made him unhappy too.

Now the Wicked Witch had a great longing to have for her own
the Silver Shoes which the girl always wore. Her bees and her
crows and her wolves were lying in heaps and drying up, and she
had used up all the power of the Golden Cap; but if she could
only get hold of the Silver Shoes, they would give her more power
than all the other things she had lost. She watched Dorothy carefully,
to see if she ever took off her shoes, thinking she might steal them.
But the child was so proud of her pretty shoes that she never took
them off except at night and when she took her bath. The Witch was
too much afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy's room at night
to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her
fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing.
Indeed, the old Witch never touched water, nor ever let water
touch her in any way.

But the wicked creature was very cunning, and she finally thought of
a trick that would give her what she wanted. She placed a bar of iron
in the middle of the kitchen floor, and then by her magic arts made the
iron invisible to human eyes. So that when Dorothy walked across the floor
she stumbled over the bar, not being able to see it, and fell at full length.
She was not much hurt, but in her fall one of the Silver Shoes came off; and
before she could reach it, the Witch had snatched it away and put it on her
own skinny foot.

The wicked woman was greatly pleased with the success of her trick,
for as long as she had one of the shoes she owned half the power of
their charm, and Dorothy could not use it against her, even had she
known how to do so.

The little girl, seeing she had lost one of her pretty shoes,
grew angry, and said to the Witch, "Give me back my shoe!"

"I will not," retorted the Witch, "for it is now my shoe, and
not yours."

"You are a wicked creature!" cried Dorothy. "You have no right
to take my shoe from me."

"I shall keep it, just the same," said the Witch, laughing at her,
"and someday I shall get the other one from you, too."

This made Dorothy so very angry that she picked up the bucket
of water that stood near and dashed it over the Witch, wetting her
from head to foot.

Instantly the wicked woman gave a loud cry of fear, and then, as
Dorothy looked at her in wonder, the Witch began to shrink and fall away.

"See what you have done!" she screamed. "In a minute I shall melt away."

"I'm very sorry, indeed," said Dorothy, who was truly frightened to
see the Witch actually melting away like brown sugar before her very eyes.

"Didn't you know water would be the end of me?" asked the
Witch, in a wailing, despairing voice.

"Of course not," answered Dorothy. "How should I?"

"Well, in a few minutes I shall be all melted, and you will
have the castle to yourself. I have been wicked in my day, but I
never thought a little girl like you would ever be able to melt me
and end my wicked deeds. Look out--here I go!"

With these words the Witch fell down in a brown, melted,
shapeless mass and began to spread over the clean boards of the
kitchen floor. Seeing that she had really melted away to nothing,
Dorothy drew another bucket of water and threw it over the mess.
She then swept it all out the door. After picking out the silver
shoe, which was all that was left of the old woman, she cleaned
and dried it with a cloth, and put it on her foot again. Then,
being at last free to do as she chose, she ran out to the
courtyard to tell the Lion that the Wicked Witch of the West had
come to an end, and that they were no longer prisoners in a
strange land.

Talking Books: The Wizard of Oz, Chapter 11

11. The Wonderful City of Oz

Even with eyes protected by the green spectacles, Dorothy
and her friends were at first dazzled by the brilliancy of the
wonderful City. The streets were lined with beautiful houses all
built of green marble and studded everywhere with sparkling
emeralds. They walked over a pavement of the same green marble,
and where the blocks were joined together were rows of emeralds,
set closely, and glittering in the brightness of the sun. The
window panes were of green glass; even the sky above the City had
a green tint, and the rays of the sun were green.

There were many people--men, women, and children--walking about,
and these were all dressed in green clothes and had greenish skins.
They looked at Dorothy and her strangely assorted company with
wondering eyes, and the children all ran away and hid behind
their mothers when they saw the Lion; but no one spoke to them.
Many shops stood in the street, and Dorothy saw that everything
in them was green. Green candy and green pop corn were offered
for sale, as well as green shoes, green hats, and green clothes
of all sorts. At one place a man was selling green lemonade,
and when the children bought it Dorothy could see that they paid
for it with green pennies.

There seemed to be no horses nor animals of any kind; the men
carried things around in little green carts, which they pushed
before them. Everyone seemed happy and contented and prosperous.

The Guardian of the Gates led them through the streets until
they came to a big building, exactly in the middle of the City,
which was the Palace of Oz, the Great Wizard. There was a soldier
before the door, dressed in a green uniform and wearing a long
green beard.

"Here are strangers," said the Guardian of the Gates to him,
"and they demand to see the Great Oz."

"Step inside," answered the soldier, "and I will carry your
message to him."

So they passed through the Palace Gates and were led into a
big room with a green carpet and lovely green furniture set with
emeralds. The soldier made them all wipe their feet upon a green
mat before entering this room, and when they were seated he said
politely:

"Please make yourselves comfortable while I go to the door of
the Throne Room and tell Oz you are here."

They had to wait a long time before the soldier returned.
When, at last, he came back, Dorothy asked:

"Have you seen Oz?"

"Oh, no," returned the soldier; "I have never seen him.
But I spoke to him as he sat behind his screen and gave him your
message. He said he will grant you an audience, if you so desire;
but each one of you must enter his presence alone, and he will
admit but one each day. Therefore, as you must remain in the
Palace for several days, I will have you shown to rooms where you
may rest in comfort after your journey."

"Thank you," replied the girl; "that is very kind of Oz."

The soldier now blew upon a green whistle, and at once a young girl,
dressed in a pretty green silk gown, entered the room. She had lovely
green hair and green eyes, and she bowed low before Dorothy as she said,
"Follow me and I will show you your room."

So Dorothy said good-bye to all her friends except Toto, and
taking the dog in her arms followed the green girl through seven
passages and up three flights of stairs until they came to a room
at the front of the Palace. It was the sweetest little room in
the world, with a soft comfortable bed that had sheets of green
silk and a green velvet counterpane. There was a tiny fountain in
the middle of the room, that shot a spray of green perfume into
the air, to fall back into a beautifully carved green marble basin.
Beautiful green flowers stood in the windows, and there was a shelf
with a row of little green books. When Dorothy had time to open
these books she found them full of queer green pictures that made
her laugh, they were so funny.

In a wardrobe were many green dresses, made of silk and satin
and velvet; and all of them fitted Dorothy exactly.

"Make yourself perfectly at home," said the green girl,
"and if you wish for anything ring the bell. Oz will send
for you tomorrow morning."

She left Dorothy alone and went back to the others. These she
also led to rooms, and each one of them found himself lodged in a
very pleasant part of the Palace. Of course this politeness was
wasted on the Scarecrow; for when he found himself alone in his
room he stood stupidly in one spot, just within the doorway, to
wait till morning. It would not rest him to lie down, and he
could not close his eyes; so he remained all night staring at a
little spider which was weaving its web in a corner of the room,
just as if it were not one of the most wonderful rooms in the world.
The Tin Woodman lay down on his bed from force of habit, for he
remembered when he was made of flesh; but not being able to sleep,
he passed the night moving his joints up and down to make sure they
kept in good working order. The Lion would have preferred a bed of
dried leaves in the forest, and did not like being shut up in a room;
but he had too much sense to let this worry him, so he sprang upon
the bed and rolled himself up like a cat and purred himself asleep
in a minute.

The next morning, after breakfast, the green maiden came to
fetch Dorothy, and she dressed her in one of the prettiest gowns,
made of green brocaded satin. Dorothy put on a green silk apron
and tied a green ribbon around Toto's neck, and they started
for the Throne Room of the Great Oz.

First they came to a great hall in which were many ladies and
gentlemen of the court, all dressed in rich costumes. These
people had nothing to do but talk to each other, but they always
came to wait outside the Throne Room every morning, although they
were never permitted to see Oz. As Dorothy entered they looked at
her curiously, and one of them whispered:

"Are you really going to look upon the face of Oz the Terrible?"

"Of course," answered the girl, "if he will see me."

"Oh, he will see you," said the soldier who had taken her
message to the Wizard, "although he does not like to have people
ask to see him. Indeed, at first he was angry and said I should
send you back where you came from. Then he asked me what you
looked like, and when I mentioned your silver shoes he was very
much interested. At last I told him about the mark upon your
forehead, and he decided he would admit you to his presence."

Just then a bell rang, and the green girl said to Dorothy,
"That is the signal. You must go into the Throne Room alone."

She opened a little door and Dorothy walked boldly through and
found herself in a wonderful place. It was a big, round room with
a high arched roof, and the walls and ceiling and floor were covered
with large emeralds set closely together. In the center of the roof
was a great light, as bright as the sun, which made the emeralds
sparkle in a wonderful manner.

But what interested Dorothy most was the big throne of green
marble that stood in the middle of the room. It was shaped like a
chair and sparkled with gems, as did everything else. In the
center of the chair was an enormous Head, without a body to
support it or any arms or legs whatever. There was no hair upon
this head, but it had eyes and a nose and mouth, and was much
bigger than the head of the biggest giant.

As Dorothy gazed upon this in wonder and fear, the eyes turned
slowly and looked at her sharply and steadily. Then the mouth
moved, and Dorothy heard a voice say:

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you
seek me?"

It was not such an awful voice as she had expected to come
from the big Head; so she took courage and answered:

"I am Dorothy, the Small and Meek. I have come to you for help."

The eyes looked at her thoughtfully for a full minute.
Then said the voice:

"Where did you get the silver shoes?"

"I got them from the Wicked Witch of the East, when my house
fell on her and killed her," she replied.

"Where did you get the mark upon your forehead?" continued the voice.

"That is where the Good Witch of the North kissed me when she
bade me good-bye and sent me to you," said the girl.

Again the eyes looked at her sharply, and they saw she was
telling the truth. Then Oz asked, "What do you wish me to do?"

"Send me back to Kansas, where my Aunt Em and Uncle Henry are,"
she answered earnestly. "I don't like your country, although it is
so beautiful. And I am sure Aunt Em will be dreadfully worried over
my being away so long."

The eyes winked three times, and then they turned up to the
ceiling and down to the floor and rolled around so queerly that
they seemed to see every part of the room. And at last they
looked at Dorothy again.

"Why should I do this for you?" asked Oz.

"Because you are strong and I am weak; because you are a Great
Wizard and I am only a little girl."

"But you were strong enough to kill the Wicked Witch of the East,"
said Oz.

"That just happened," returned Dorothy simply; "I could not help it."

"Well," said the Head, "I will give you my answer. You have no
right to expect me to send you back to Kansas unless you do something
for me in return. In this country everyone must pay for everything
he gets. If you wish me to use my magic power to send you home again
you must do something for me first. Help me and I will help you."

"What must I do?" asked the girl.

"Kill the Wicked Witch of the West," answered Oz.

"But I cannot!" exclaimed Dorothy, greatly surprised.

"You killed the Witch of the East and you wear the silver shoes,
which bear a powerful charm. There is now but one Wicked Witch left
in all this land, and when you can tell me she is dead I will send
you back to Kansas--but not before."

The little girl began to weep, she was so much disappointed;
and the eyes winked again and looked upon her anxiously, as if the
Great Oz felt that she could help him if she would.

"I never killed anything, willingly," she sobbed. "Even if I
wanted to, how could I kill the Wicked Witch? If you, who are Great
and Terrible, cannot kill her yourself, how do you expect me to do it?"

"I do not know," said the Head; "but that is my answer, and
until the Wicked Witch dies you will not see your uncle and aunt
again. Remember that the Witch is Wicked--tremendously Wicked
-and ought to be killed. Now go, and do not ask to see me again
until you have done your task."

Sorrowfully Dorothy left the Throne Room and went back where
the Lion and the Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman were waiting to
hear what Oz had said to her. "There is no hope for me," she
said sadly, "for Oz will not send me home until I have killed
the Wicked Witch of the West; and that I can never do."

Her friends were sorry, but could do nothing to help her; so
Dorothy went to her own room and lay down on the bed and cried
herself to sleep.

The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came to
the Scarecrow and said:

"Come with me, for Oz has sent for you."

So the Scarecrow followed him and was admitted into the great
Throne Room, where he saw, sitting in the emerald throne, a most
lovely Lady. She was dressed in green silk gauze and wore upon
her flowing green locks a crown of jewels. Growing from her
shoulders were wings, gorgeous in color and so light that they
fluttered if the slightest breath of air reached them.

When the Scarecrow had bowed, as prettily as his straw stuffing would
let him, before this beautiful creature, she looked upon him sweetly,
and said:

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

Now the Scarecrow, who had expected to see the great Head Dorothy had
told him of, was much astonished; but he answered her bravely.

"I am only a Scarecrow, stuffed with straw. Therefore I have
no brains, and I come to you praying that you will put brains in
my head instead of straw, so that I may become as much a man as
any other in your dominions."

"Why should I do this for you?" asked the Lady.

"Because you are wise and powerful, and no one else can help me,"
answered the Scarecrow.

"I never grant favors without some return," said Oz; "but this
much I will promise. If you will kill for me the Wicked Witch of
the West, I will bestow upon you a great many brains, and such
good brains that you will be the wisest man in all the Land of Oz."

"I thought you asked Dorothy to kill the Witch," said the Scarecrow,
in surprise.

"So I did. I don't care who kills her. But until she is dead
I will not grant your wish. Now go, and do not seek me again
until you have earned the brains you so greatly desire."

The Scarecrow went sorrowfully back to his friends and told
them what Oz had said; and Dorothy was surprised to find that the
Great Wizard was not a Head, as she had seen him, but a lovely Lady.

"All the same," said the Scarecrow, "she needs a heart as much
as the Tin Woodman."

On the next morning the soldier with the green whiskers came
to the Tin Woodman and said:

"Oz has sent for you. Follow me."

So the Tin Woodman followed him and came to the great Throne
Room. He did not know whether he would find Oz a lovely Lady or a
Head, but he hoped it would be the lovely Lady. "For," he said to
himself, "if it is the head, I am sure I shall not be given a
heart, since a head has no heart of its own and therefore cannot
feel for me. But if it is the lovely Lady I shall beg hard for a
heart, for all ladies are themselves said to be kindly hearted."

But when the Woodman entered the great Throne Room he saw
neither the Head nor the Lady, for Oz had taken the shape of a
most terrible Beast. It was nearly as big as an elephant, and the
green throne seemed hardly strong enough to hold its weight. The
Beast had a head like that of a rhinoceros, only there were five
eyes in its face. There were five long arms growing out of its
body, and it also had five long, slim legs. Thick, woolly hair
covered every part of it, and a more dreadful-looking monster
could not be imagined. It was fortunate the Tin Woodman had no
heart at that moment, for it would have beat loud and fast from
terror. But being only tin, the Woodman was not at all afraid,
although he was much disappointed.

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible," spoke the Beast, in a voice
that was one great roar. "Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

"I am a Woodman, and made of tin. Therefore I have no heart,
and cannot love. I pray you to give me a heart that I may be as
other men are."

"Why should I do this?" demanded the Beast.

"Because I ask it, and you alone can grant my request,"
answered the Woodman.

Oz gave a low growl at this, but said, gruffly: "If you indeed
desire a heart, you must earn it."

"How?" asked the Woodman.

"Help Dorothy to kill the Wicked Witch of the West," replied
the Beast. "When the Witch is dead, come to me, and I will then
give you the biggest and kindest and most loving heart in all the
Land of Oz."

So the Tin Woodman was forced to return sorrowfully to his
friends and tell them of the terrible Beast he had seen.
They all wondered greatly at the many forms the Great Wizard
could take upon himself, and the Lion said:

"If he is a Beast when I go to see him, I shall roar my
loudest, and so frighten him that he will grant all I ask. And if
he is the lovely Lady, I shall pretend to spring upon her, and so
compel her to do my bidding. And if he is the great Head, he will
be at my mercy; for I will roll this head all about the room until
he promises to give us what we desire. So be of good cheer, my
friends, for all will yet be well."

The next morning the soldier with the green whiskers led the
Lion to the great Throne Room and bade him enter the presence of Oz.

The Lion at once passed through the door, and glancing around saw,
to his surprise, that before the throne was a Ball of Fire, so fierce
and glowing he could scarcely bear to gaze upon it. His first thought
was that Oz had by accident caught on fire and was burning up; but when
he tried to go nearer, the heat was so intense that it singed his whiskers,
and he crept back tremblingly to a spot nearer the door.

Then a low, quiet voice came from the Ball of Fire, and these
were the words it spoke:

"I am Oz, the Great and Terrible. Who are you, and why do you seek me?"

And the Lion answered, "I am a Cowardly Lion, afraid of everything.
I came to you to beg that you give me courage, so that in reality I may
become the King of Beasts, as men call me."

"Why should I give you courage?" demanded Oz.

"Because of all Wizards you are the greatest, and alone have
power to grant my request," answered the Lion.

The Ball of Fire burned fiercely for a time, and the voice said,
"Bring me proof that the Wicked Witch is dead, and that moment I will
give you courage. But as long as the Witch lives, you must remain a coward."

The Lion was angry at this speech, but could say nothing in reply,
and while he stood silently gazing at the Ball of Fire it became
so furiously hot that he turned tail and rushed from the room.
He was glad to find his friends waiting for him, and told them
of his terrible interview with the Wizard.

"What shall we do now?" asked Dorothy sadly.

"There is only one thing we can do," returned the Lion, "and
that is to go to the land of the Winkies, seek out the Wicked
Witch, and destroy her."

"But suppose we cannot?" said the girl.

"Then I shall never have courage," declared the Lion.

"And I shall never have brains," added the Scarecrow.

"And I shall never have a heart," spoke the Tin of Woodman.

"And I shall never see Aunt Em and Uncle Henry," said Dorothy,
beginning to cry.

"Be careful!" cried the green girl. "The tears will fall on
your green silk gown and spot it."

So Dorothy dried her eyes and said, "I suppose we must try it;
but I am sure I do not want to kill anybody, even to see Aunt Em again."

"I will go with you; but I'm too much of a coward to kill the
Witch," said the Lion.

"I will go too," declared the Scarecrow; "but I shall not be
of much help to you, I am such a fool."

"I haven't the heart to harm even a Witch," remarked the Tin
Woodman; "but if you go I certainly shall go with you."

Therefore it was decided to start upon their journey the next
morning, and the Woodman sharpened his axe on a green grindstone
and had all his joints properly oiled. The Scarecrow stuffed
himself with fresh straw and Dorothy put new paint on his eyes
that he might see better. The green girl, who was very kind to
them, filled Dorothy's basket with good things to eat, and
fastened a little bell around Toto's neck with a green ribbon.

They went to bed quite early and slept soundly until daylight,
when they were awakened by the crowing of a green cock that lived
in the back yard of the Palace, and the cackling of a hen that had
laid a green egg.

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