Baum L. Frank. Ozma of Oz

   “But you are treating them cruelly,” said Ozma, who was much distressed by the King’s refusal.
   “In what way?” he asked.
   “By making them your slaves,” said she.
   “Cruelty,” remarked the monarch, puffing out wreathes of smoke and watching them float into the air, “is a thing I can’t abide. So, as slaves must work hard, and the Queen of Ev and her children were delicate and tender, I transformed them all into articles of ornament and bric-a-brac and scattered them around the various rooms of my palace. Instead of being obliged to labor, they merely decorate my apartments, and I really think I have treated them with great kindness.”
   “But what a dreadful fate is theirs!” exclaimed Ozma, earnestly. “And the Kingdom of Ev is in great need of its royal family to govern it. If you will liberate them, and restore them to their proper forms, I will give you ten ornaments to replace each one you lose.”
   The Nome King looked grave.
   “Suppose I refuse?” he asked.
   “Then,” said Ozma, firmly, “I am here with my friends and my army to conquer your kingdom and oblige you to obey my wishes.”
   The Nome King laughed until he choked; and he choked until he coughed; and he coughed until his face turned from grayish-brown to bright red. And then he wiped his eyes with a rock-colored handkerchief and grew grave again.
   “You are as brave as you are pretty, my dear,” he said to Ozma. “But you have little idea of the extent of the task you have undertaken. Come with me for a moment.”
   He arose and took Ozma’s hand, leading her to a little door at one side of the room. This he opened and they stepped out upon a balcony, from whence they obtained a wonderful view of the Underground World.
   A vast cave extended for miles and miles under the mountain, and in every direction were furnaces and forges glowing brightly and Nomes hammering upon precious metals or polishing gleaming jewels. All around the walls of the cave were thousands of doors of silver and gold, built into the solid rock, and these extended in rows far away into the distance, as far as Ozma’s eyes could follow them.
   While the little maid from Oz gazed wonderingly upon this scene the Nome King uttered a shrill whistle, and at once all the silver and gold doors flew open and solid ranks of Nome soldiers marched out from every one. So great were their numbers that they quickly filled the immense underground cavern and forced the busy workmen to abandon their tasks.
   Although this tremendous army consisted of rock-colored Nomes, all squat and fat, they were clothed in glittering armor of polished steel, inlaid with beautiful gems. Upon his brow each wore a brilliant electric light, and they bore sharp spears and swords and battle-axes of solid bronze. It was evident they were perfectly trained, for they stood in straight rows, rank after rank, with their weapons held erect and true, as if awaiting but the word of command to level them upon their foes.
   “This,” said the Nome King, “is but a small part of my army. No ruler upon Earth has ever dared to fight me, and no ruler ever will, for I am too powerful to oppose.”
   He whistled again, and at once the martial array filed through the silver and gold doorways and disappeared, after which the workmen again resumed their labors at the furnaces.
   Then, sad and discouraged, Ozma of Oz turned to her friends, and the Nome King calmly reseated himself on his rock throne.
   “It would be foolish for us to fight,” the girl said to the Tin Woodman. “For our brave Twenty-Seven would be quickly destroyed. I’m sure I do not know how to act in this emergency.”
   “Ask the King where his kitchen is,” suggested the Tiger. “I’m hungry as a bear.”
   “I might pounce upon the King and tear him in pieces,” remarked the Cowardly Lion.
   “Try it,” said the monarch, lighting his pipe with another hot coal which he took from his pocket.
   The Lion crouched low and tried to spring upon the Nome King; but he hopped only a little way into the air and came down again in the same place, not being able to approach the throne by even an inch.
   “It seems to me,” said the Scarecrow, thoughtfully, “that our best plan is to wheedle his Majesty into giving up his slaves, since he is too great a magician to oppose.”
   “This is the most sensible thing any of you have suggested,” declared the Nome King. “It is folly to threaten me, but I’m so kind-hearted that I cannot stand coaxing or wheedling. If you really wish to accomplish anything by your journey, my dear Ozma, you must coax me.”
   “Very well,” said Ozma, more cheerfully. “Let us be friends, and talk this over in a friendly manner.”
   “To be sure,” agreed the King, his eyes twinkling merrily.
   “I am very anxious,” she continued, “to liberate the Queen of Ev and her children who are now ornaments and bric-a-brac in your Majesty’s palace, and to restore them to their people. Tell me, sir, how this may be accomplished.”
   The king remained thoughtful for a moment, after which he asked:
   “Are you willing to take a few chances and risks yourself, in order to set free the people of Ev?”
   “Yes, indeed!” answered Ozma, eagerly.
   “Then,” said the Nome King, “I will make you this offer: You shall go alone and unattended into my palace and examine carefully all that the rooms contain. Then you shall have permission to touch eleven different objects, pronouncing at the time the word ‘Ev,’ and if any one of them, or more than one, proves to be the transformation of the Queen of Ev or any of her ten children, then they will instantly be restored to their true forms and may leave my palace and my kingdom in your company, without any objection whatever. It is possible for you, in this way, to free the entire eleven; but if you do not guess all the objects correctly, and some of the slaves remain transformed, then each one of your friends and followers may, in turn, enter the palace and have the same privileges I grant you.”
   “Oh, thank you! thank you for this kind offer!” said Ozma, eagerly.
   “I make but one condition,” added the Nome King, his eyes twinkling.
   “What is it?” she enquired.
   “If none of the eleven objects you touch proves to be the transformation of any of the royal family of Ev, then, instead of freeing them, you will yourself become enchanted, and transformed into an article of bric-a-brac or an ornament. This is only fair and just, and is the risk you declared you were willing to take.”

12. The Eleven Guesses

   Hearing this condition imposed by the Nome King, Ozma became silent and thoughtful, and all her friends looked at her uneasily.
   “Don’t you do it!” exclaimed Dorothy. “If you guess wrong, you will be enslaved yourself.”
   “But I shall have eleven guesses,” answered Ozma. “Surely I ought to guess one object in eleven correctly; and, if I do, I shall rescue one of the royal family and be safe myself. Then the rest of you may attempt it, and soon we shall free all those who are enslaved.”
   “What if we fail?” enquired the Scarecrow. “I’d look nice as a piece of bric-a-brac, wouldn’t I?”
   “We must not fail!” cried Ozma, courageously. “Having come all this distance to free these poor people, it would be weak and cowardly in us to abandon the adventure. Therefore I will accept the Nome King’s offer, and go at once into the royal palace.”
   “Come along, then, my dear,” said the King, climbing down from his throne with some difficulty, because he was so fat; “I’ll show you the way.”
   He approached a wall of the cave and waved his hand. Instantly an opening appeared, through which Ozma, after a smiling farewell to her friends, boldly passed.
   She found herself in a splendid hall that was more beautiful and grand than anything she had ever beheld. The ceilings were composed of great arches that rose far above her head, and all the walls and floors were of polished marble exquisitely tinted in many colors. Thick velvet carpets were on the floor and heavy silken draperies covered the arches leading to the various rooms of the palace. The furniture was made of rare old woods richly carved and covered with delicate satins, and the entire palace was lighted by a mysterious rosy glow that seemed to come from no particular place but flooded each apartment with its soft and pleasing radiance.
   Ozma passed from one room to another, greatly delighted by all she saw. The lovely palace had no other occupant, for the Nome King had left her at the entrance, which closed behind her, and in all the magnificent rooms there appeared to be no other person.
   Upon the mantels, and on many shelves and brackets and tables, were clustered ornaments of every description, seemingly made out of all sorts of metals, glass, china, stones and marbles. There were vases, and figures of men and animals, and graven platters and bowls, and mosaics of precious gems, and many other things. Pictures, too, were on the walls, and the underground palace was quite a museum of rare and curious and costly objects.
   After her first hasty examination of the rooms Ozma began to wonder which of all the numerous ornaments they contained were the transformations of the royal family of Ev. There was nothing to guide her, for everything seemed without a spark of life. So she must guess blindly; and for the first time the girl came to realize how dangerous was her task, and how likely she was to lose her own freedom in striving to free others from the bondage of the Nome King. No wonder the cunning monarch laughed good naturedly with his visitors, when he knew how easily they might be entrapped.
   But Ozma, having undertaken the venture, would not abandon it. She looked at a silver candelabra that had ten branches, and thought: “This may be the Queen of Ev and her ten children.” So she touched it and uttered aloud the word “Ev,” as the Nome King had instructed her to do when she guessed. But the candelabra remained as it was before.
   Then she wandered into another room and touched a china lamb, thinking it might be one of the children she sought. But again she was unsuccessful. Three guesses; four guesses; five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten she made, and still not one of them was right!
   The girl shivered a little and grew pale even under the rosy light; for now but one guess remained, and her own fate depended upon the result.
   She resolved not to be hasty, and strolled through all the rooms once more, gazing earnestly upon the various ornaments and trying to decide which she would touch. Finally, in despair, she decided to leave it entirely to chance. She faced the doorway of a room, shut her eyes tightly, and then, thrusting aside the heavy draperies, she advanced blindly with her right arm outstretched before her.
   Slowly, softly she crept forward until her hand came in contact with an object upon a small round table. She did not know what it was, but in a low voice she pronounced the word “Ev.”
   The rooms were quite empty of life after that. The Nome King had gained a new ornament. For upon the edge of the table rested a pretty grasshopper, that seemed to have been formed from a single emerald. It was all that remained of Ozma of Oz.
   In the throne room just beyond the palace the Nome King suddenly looked up and smiled.
   “Next!” he said, in his pleasant voice.
   Dorothy, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Woodman, who had been sitting in anxious silence, each gave a start of dismay and stared into one another’s eyes.
   “Has she failed?” asked Tiktok.
   “So it seems,” answered the little monarch, cheerfully. “But that is no reason one of you should not succeed. The next may have twelve guesses, instead of eleven, for there are now twelve persons transformed into ornaments. Well, well! Which of you goes next?”
   “I’ll go,” said Dorothy.
   “Not so,” replied the Tin Woodman. “As commander of Ozma’s army, it is my privilege to follow her and attempt her rescue.”
   “Away you go, then,” said the Scarecrow. “But be careful, old friend.”
   “I will,” promised the Tin Woodman; and then he followed the Nome King to the entrance to the palace and the rock closed behind him.

13. The Nome King Laughs

   In a moment the King returned to his throne and relighted his pipe, and the rest of the little band of adventurers settled themselves for another long wait. They were greatly disheartened by the failure of their girl Ruler, and the knowledge that she was now an ornament in the Nome King’s palace — a dreadful, creepy place in spite of all its magnificence. Without their little leader they did not know what to do next, and each one, down to the trembling private of the army, began to fear he would soon be more ornamental than useful.
   Suddenly the Nome King began laughing.
   “Ha, ha, ha! He, he, he! Ho, ho, ho!”
   “What’s happened?” asked the Scarecrow.
   “Why, your friend, the Tin Woodman, has become the funniest thing you can imagine,” replied the King, wiping the tears of merriment from his eyes. “No one would ever believe he could make such an amusing ornament. Next!”
   They gazed at each other with sinking hearts. One of the generals began to weep dolefully.
   “What are you crying for?” asked the Scarecrow, indignant at such a display of weakness.
   “He owed me six weeks back pay,” said the general, “and I hate to lose him.”
   “Then you shall go and find him,” declared the Scarecrow.
   “Me!” cried the general, greatly alarmed.
   “Certainly. It is your duty to follow your commander. March!”
   “I won’t,” said the general. “I’d like to, of course; but I just simply WON’T.”
   The Scarecrow looked enquiringly at the Nome King.
   “Never mind,” said the jolly monarch. “If he doesn’t care to enter the palace and make his guesses I’ll throw him into one of my fiery furnaces.”
   “I’ll go! — of course I’m going,” yelled the general, as quick as scat. “Where is the entrance — where is it? Let me go at once!”
   So the Nome King escorted him into the palace, and again returned to await the result. What the general did, no one can tell; but it was not long before the King called for the next victim, and a colonel was forced to try his fortune.
   Thus, one after another, all of the twenty-six officers filed into the palace and made their guesses — and became ornaments.
   Meantime the King ordered refreshments to be served to those waiting, and at his command a rudely shaped Nome entered, bearing a tray. This Nome was not unlike the others that Dorothy had seen, but he wore a heavy gold chain around his neck to show that he was the Chief Steward of the Nome King, and he assumed an air of much importance, and even told his majesty not to eat too much cake late at night, or he would be ill.
   Dorothy, however, was hungry, and she was not afraid of being ill; so she ate several cakes and found them good, and also she drank a cup of excellent coffee made of a richly flavored clay, browned in the furnaces and then ground fine, and found it most refreshing and not at all muddy.
   Of all the party which had started upon this adventure, the little Kansas girl was now left alone with the Scarecrow, Tiktok, and the private for counsellors and companions. Of course the Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger were still there, but they, having also eaten some of the cakes, had gone to sleep at one side of the cave, while upon the other side stood the Sawhorse, motionless and silent, as became a mere thing of wood. Billina had quietly walked around and picked up the crumbs of cake which had been scattered, and now, as it was long after bed-time, she tried to find some dark place in which to go to sleep.
   Presently the hen espied a hollow underneath the King’s rocky throne, and crept into it unnoticed. She could still hear the chattering of those around her, but it was almost dark underneath the throne, so that soon she had fallen fast asleep.
   “Next!” called the King, and the private, whose turn it was to enter the fatal palace, shook hands with Dorothy and the Scarecrow and bade them a sorrowful good-bye, and passed through the rocky portal.
   They waited a long time, for the private was in no hurry to become an ornament and made his guesses very slowly. The Nome King, who seemed to know, by some magical power, all that took place in his beautiful rooms of his palace, grew impatient finally and declared he would sit up no longer.
   “I love ornaments,” said he, “but I can wait until tomorrow to get more of them; so, as soon as that stupid private is transformed, we will all go to bed and leave the job to be finished in the morning.”
   “Is it so very late?” asked Dorothy.
   “Why, it is after midnight,” said the King, “and that strikes me as being late enough. There is neither night nor day in my kingdom, because it is under the earth’s surface, where the sun does not shine. But we have to sleep, just the same as the up-stairs people do, and for my part I’m going to bed in a few minutes.”
   Indeed, it was not long after this that the private made his last guess. Of course he guessed wrongly, and of course he at once became an ornament. So the King was greatly pleased, and clapped his hands to summon his Chief Steward.
   “Show these guests to some of the sleeping apartments,” he commanded, “and be quick about it, too, for I’m dreadfully sleepy myself.”
   “You’ve no business to sit up so late,” replied the Steward, gruffly. “You’ll be as cross as a griffin tomorrow morning.”
   His Majesty made no answer to this remark, and the Chief Steward led Dorothy through another doorway into a long hall, from which several plain but comfortable sleeping rooms opened. The little girl was given the first room, and the Scarecrow and Tiktok the next — although they never slept — and the Lion and the Tiger the third. The Sawhorse hobbled after the Steward into a fourth room, to stand stiffly in the center of it until morning. Each night was rather a bore to the Scarecrow, Tiktok and the Sawhorse; but they had learned from experience to pass the time patiently and quietly, since all their friends who were made of flesh had to sleep and did not like to be disturbed.
   When the Chief Steward had left them alone the Scarecrow remarked, sadly:
   “I am in great sorrow over the loss of my old comrade, the Tin Woodman. We have had many dangerous adventures together, and escaped them all, and now it grieves me to know he has become an ornament, and is lost to me forever.”
   “He was al-ways an or-na-ment to so-ci-e-ty,” said Tiktok.
   “True; but now the Nome King laughs at him, and calls him the funniest ornament in all the palace. It will hurt my poor friend’s pride to be laughed at,” continued the Scarecrow, sadly.
   “We will make rath-er ab-surd or-na-ments, our-selves, to-mor-row,” observed the machine, in his monotonous voice.
   Just then Dorothy ran into their room, in a state of great anxiety, crying:
   “Where’s Billina? Have you seen Billina? Is she here?”
   “No,” answered the Scarecrow.
   “Then what has become of her?” asked the girl.
   “Why, I thought she was with you,” said the Scarecrow. “Yet I do not remember seeing the yellow hen since she picked up the crumbs of cake.”
   “We must have left her in the room where the King’s throne is,” decided Dorothy, and at once she turned and ran down the hall to the door through which they had entered. But it was fast closed and locked on the other side, and the heavy slab of rock proved to be so thick that no sound could pass through it. So Dorothy was forced to return to her chamber.
   The Cowardly Lion stuck his head into her room to try to console the girl for the loss of her feathered friend.
   “The yellow hen is well able to take care of herself,” said he; “so don’t worry about her, but try to get all the sleep you can. It has been a long and weary day, and you need rest.”
   “I’ll prob’ly get lots of rest tomorrow, when I become an orn’ment,” said Dorothy, sleepily. But she lay down upon her couch, nevertheless, and in spite of all her worries was soon in the land of dreams.

14. Dorothy Tries to be Brave

   Meantime the Chief Steward had returned to the throne room, where he said to the King:
   “You are a fool to waste so much time upon these people.”
   “What!” cried his Majesty, in so enraged a voice that it awoke Billina, who was asleep under his throne. “How dare you call me a fool?”
   “Because I like to speak the truth,” said the Steward. “Why didn’t you enchant them all at once, instead of allowing them to go one by one into the palace and guess which ornaments are the Queen of Ev and her children?”
   “Why, you stupid rascal, it is more fun this way,” returned the King, “and it serves to keep me amused for a long time.”
   “But suppose some of them happen to guess aright,” persisted the Steward; “then you would lose your old ornaments and these new ones, too.”
   “There is no chance of their guessing aright,” replied the monarch, with a laugh. “How could they know that the Queen of Ev and her family are all ornaments of a royal purple color?”
   “But there are no other purple ornaments in the palace,” said the Steward.
   “There are many other colors, however, and the purple ones are scattered throughout the rooms, and are of many different shapes and sizes. Take my word for it, Steward, they will never think of choosing the purple ornaments.”
   Billina, squatting under the throne, had listened carefully to all this talk, and now chuckled softly to herself as she heard the King disclose his secret.
   “Still, you are acting foolishly by running the chance,” continued the Steward, roughly; “and it is still more foolish of you to transform all those people from Oz into green ornaments.”
   “I did that because they came from the Emerald City,” replied the King; “and I had no green ornaments in my collection until now. I think they will look quite pretty, mixed with the others. Don’t you?”
   The Steward gave an angry grunt.
   “Have your own way, since you are the King,” he growled. “But if you come to grief through your carelessness, remember that I told you so. If I wore the magic belt which enables you to work all your transformations, and gives you so much other power, I am sure I would make a much wiser and better King than you are.”
   “Oh, cease your tiresome chatter!” commanded the King, getting angry again. “Because you are my Chief Steward you have an idea you can scold me as much as you please. But the very next time you become impudent, I will send you to work in the furnaces, and get another Nome to fill your place. Now follow me to my chamber, for I am going to bed. And see that I am wakened early tomorrow morning. I want to enjoy the fun of transforming the rest of these people into ornaments.”
   “What color will you make the Kansas girl?” asked the Steward.
   “Gray, I think,” said his Majesty.
   “And the Scarecrow and the machine man?”
   “Oh, they shall be of solid gold, because they are so ugly in real life.”
   Then the voices died away, and Billina knew that the King and his Steward had left the room. She fixed up some of her tail feathers that were not straight, and then tucked her head under her wing again and went to sleep.
   In the morning Dorothy and the Lion and Tiger were given their breakfast in their rooms, and afterward joined the King in his throne room. The Tiger complained bitterly that he was half starved, and begged to go into the palace and become an ornament, so that he would no longer suffer the pangs of hunger.
   “Haven’t you had your breakfast?” asked the Nome King.
   “Oh, I had just a bite,” replied the beast. “But what good is a bite, to a hungry tiger?”
   “He ate seventeen bowls of porridge, a platter full of fried sausages, eleven loaves of bread and twenty-one mince pies,” said the Steward.
   “What more do you want?” demanded the King.
   “A fat baby. I want a fat baby,” said the Hungry Tiger. “A nice, plump, juicy, tender, fat baby. But, of course, if I had one, my conscience would not allow me to eat it. So I’ll have to be an ornament and forget my hunger.”
   “Impossible!” exclaimed the King. “I’ll have no clumsy beasts enter my palace, to overturn and break all my pretty nick-nacks. When the rest of your friends are transformed you can return to the upper world, and go about your business.”
   “As for that, we have no business, when our friends are gone,” said the Lion. “So we do not care much what becomes of us.”
   Dorothy begged to be allowed to go first into the palace, but Tiktok firmly maintained that the slave should face danger before the mistress. The Scarecrow agreed with him in that, so the Nome King opened the door for the machine man, who tramped into the palace to meet his fate. Then his Majesty returned to his throne and puffed his pipe so contentedly that a small cloud of smoke formed above his head.
   Bye and bye he said:
   “I’m sorry there are so few of you left. Very soon, now, my fun will be over, and then for amusement I shall have nothing to do but admire my new ornaments.”
   “It seems to me,” said Dorothy, “that you are not so honest as you pretend to be.”
   “How’s that?” asked the King.
   “Why, you made us think it would be easy to guess what ornaments the people of Ev were changed into.”
   “It IS easy,” declared the monarch, “if one is a good guesser. But it appears that the members of your party are all poor guessers.”
   “What is Tiktok doing now?” asked the girl, uneasily.
   “Nothing,” replied the King, with a frown. “He is standing perfectly still, in the middle of a room.”
   “Oh, I expect he’s run down,” said Dorothy. “I forgot to wind him up this morning. How many guesses has he made?”
   “All that he is allowed except one,” answered the King. “Suppose you go in and wind him up, and then you can stay there and make your own guesses.”
   “All right,” said Dorothy.
   “It is my turn next,” declared the Scarecrow.
   “Why, you don’t want to go away and leave me all alone, do you?” asked the girl. “Besides, if I go now I can wind up Tiktok, so that he can make his last guess.”
   “Very well, then,” said the Scarecrow, with a sigh. “Run along, little Dorothy, and may good luck go with you!”
   So Dorothy, trying to be brave in spite of her fears, passed through the doorway into the gorgeous rooms of the palace. The stillness of the place awed her, at first, and the child drew short breaths, and pressed her hand to her heart, and looked all around with wondering eyes.
   Yes, it was a beautiful place; but enchantments lurked in every nook and corner, and she had not yet grown accustomed to the wizardries of these fairy countries, so different from the quiet and sensible common-places of her own native land.
   Slowly she passed through several rooms until she came upon Tiktok, standing motionless. It really seemed, then, that she had found a friend in this mysterious palace, so she hastened to wind up the machine man’s action and speech and thoughts.
   “Thank you, Dor-oth-y,” were his first words. “I have now one more guess to make.”
   “Oh, be very careful, Tiktok; won’t you?” cried the girl.
   “Yes. But the Nome King has us in his power, and he has set a trap for us. I fear we are all lost.” he answered.
   “I fear so, too,” said Dorothy, sadly.
   “If Smith & Tin-ker had giv-en me a guess-ing clock-work at-tach-ment,” continued Tiktok, “I might have de-fied the Nome King. But my thoughts are plain and sim-ple, and are not of much use in this case.”
   “Do the best you can,” said Dorothy, encouragingly, “and if you fail I will watch and see what shape you are changed into.”
   So Tiktok touched a yellow glass vase that had daisies painted on one side, and he spoke at the same time the word “Ev.”
   In a flash the machine man had disappeared, and although the girl looked quickly in every direction, she could not tell which of the many ornaments the room contained had a moment before been her faithful friend and servant.
   So all she could do was to accept the hopeless task set her, and make her guesses and abide by the result.
   “It can’t hurt very much,” she thought, “for I haven’t heard any of them scream or cry out — not even the poor officers. Dear me! I wonder if Uncle Henry or Aunt Em will ever know I have become an orn’ment in the Nome King’s palace, and must stand forever and ever in one place and look pretty — ‘cept when I’m moved to be dusted. It isn’t the way I thought I’d turn out, at all; but I s’pose it can’t be helped.”
   She walked through all the rooms once more, and examined with care all the objects they contained; but there were so many, they bewildered her, and she decided, after all, as Ozma had done, that it could be only guess work at the best, and that the chances were much against her guessing aright.
   Timidly she touched an alabaster bowl and said: “Ev.”
   “That’s one failure, anyhow,” she thought. “But how am I to know which thing is enchanted, and which is not?”
   Next she touched the image of a purple kitten that stood on the corner of a mantel, and as she pronounced the word “Ev” the kitten disappeared, and a pretty, fair-haired boy stood beside her. At the same time a bell rang somewhere in the distance, and as Dorothy started back, partly in surprise and partly in joy, the little one exclaimed:
   “Where am I? And who are you? And what has happened to me?”
   “Well, I declare!” said Dorothy. “I’ve really done it.”
   “Done what?” asked the boy.
   “Saved myself from being an ornament,” replied the girl, with a laugh, “and saved you from being forever a purple kitten.”
   “A purple kitten?” he repeated. “There IS no such thing.”
   “I know,” she answered. “But there was, a minute ago. Don’t you remember standing on a corner of the mantel?”
   “Of course not. I am a Prince of Ev, and my name is Evring,” the little one announced, proudly. “But my father, the King, sold my mother and all her children to the cruel ruler of the Nomes, and after that I remember nothing at all.”
   “A purple kitten can’t be ’spected to remember, Evring,” said Dorothy. “But now you are yourself again, and I’m going to try to save some of your brothers and sisters, and perhaps your mother, as well. So come with me.”
   She seized the child’s hand and eagerly hurried here and there, trying to decide which object to choose next. The third guess was another failure, and so was the fourth and the fifth.
   Little Evring could not imagine what she was doing, but he trotted along beside her very willingly, for he liked the new companion he had found.
   Dorothy’s further quest proved unsuccessful; but after her first disappointment was over, the little girl was filled with joy and thankfulness to think that after all she had been able to save one member of the royal family of Ev, and could restore the little Prince to his sorrowing country. Now she might return to the terrible Nome King in safety, carrying with her the prize she had won in the person of the fair-haired boy.
   So she retraced her steps until she found the entrance to the palace, and as she approached, the massive doors of rock opened of their own accord, allowing both Dorothy and Evring to pass the portals and enter the throne room.

15. Billina Frightens the Nome King

   Now when Dorothy had entered the palace to make her guesses and the Scarecrow was left with the Nome King, the two sat in moody silence for several minutes. Then the monarch exclaimed, in a tone of satisfaction:
   “Very good!”
   “Who is very good?” asked the Scarecrow.
   “The machine man. He won’t need to be wound up any more, for he has now become a very neat ornament. Very neat, indeed.”
   “How about Dorothy?” the Scarecrow enquired.
   “Oh, she will begin to guess, pretty soon,” said the King, cheerfully. “And then she will join my collection, and it will be your turn.”
   The good Scarecrow was much distressed by the thought that his little friend was about to suffer the fate of Ozma and the rest of their party; but while he sat in gloomy reverie a shrill voice suddenly cried:
   “Kut, kut, kut — ka-daw-kutt! Kut, kut, kut — ka-daw-kutt!”
   The Nome King nearly jumped off his seat, he was so startled.
   “Good gracious! What’s that?” he yelled.
   “Why, it’s Billina,” said the Scarecrow.
   “What do you mean by making a noise like that?” shouted the King, angrily, as the yellow hen came from under the throne and strutted proudly about the room.
   “I’ve got a right to cackle, I guess,” replied Billina. “I’ve just laid my egg.”
   “What! Laid an egg! In my throne room! How dare you do such a thing?” asked the King, in a voice of fury.
   “I lay eggs wherever I happen to be,” said the hen, ruffling her feathers and then shaking them into place.
   “But — thunder-ation! Don’t you know that eggs are poison?” roared the King, while his rock-colored eyes stuck out in great terror.
   “Poison! well, I declare,” said Billina, indignantly. “I’ll have you know all my eggs are warranted strictly fresh and up to date. Poison, indeed!”
   “You don’t understand,” retorted the little monarch, nervously. “Eggs belong only to the outside world — to the world on the earth’s surface, where you came from. Here, in my underground kingdom, they are rank poison, as I said, and we Nomes can’t bear them around.”
   “Well, you’ll have to bear this one around,” declared Billina; “for I’ve laid it.”
   “Where?” asked the King.
   “Under your throne,” said the hen.
   The King jumped three feet into the air, so anxious was he to get away from the throne.
   “Take it away! Take it away at once!” he shouted.
   “I can’t,” said Billina. “I haven’t any hands.”
   “I’ll take the egg,” said the Scarecrow. “I’m making a collection of Billina’s eggs. There’s one in my pocket now, that she laid yesterday.”
   Hearing this, the monarch hastened to put a good distance between himself and the Scarecrow, who was about to reach under the throne for the egg when the hen suddenly cried:
   “Stop!”
   “What’s wrong?” asked the Scarecrow.
   “Don’t take the egg unless the King will allow me to enter the palace and guess as the others have done,” said Billina.
   “Pshaw!” returned the King. “You’re only a hen. How could you guess my enchantments?”
   “I can try, I suppose,” said Billina. “And, if I fail, you will have another ornament.”
   “A pretty ornament you’d make, wouldn’t you?” growled the King. “But you shall have your way. It will properly punish you for daring to lay an egg in my presence. After the Scarecrow is enchanted you shall follow him into the palace. But how will you touch the objects?”
   “With my claws,” said the hen; “and I can speak the word ‘Ev’ as plainly as anyone. Also I must have the right to guess the enchantments of my friends, and to release them if I succeed.”
   “Very well,” said the King. “You have my promise.”
   “Then,” said Billina to the Scarecrow, “you may get the egg.”
   He knelt down and reached underneath the throne and found the egg, which he placed in another pocket of his jacket, fearing that if both eggs were in one pocket they would knock together and get broken.
   Just then a bell above the throne rang briskly, and the King gave another nervous jump.
   “Well, well!” said he, with a rueful face; “the girl has actually done it.”
   “Done what?” asked the Scarecrow.
   “She has made one guess that is right, and broken one of my neatest enchantments. By ricketty, it’s too bad! I never thought she would do it.”
   “Do I understand that she will now return to us in safety?” enquired the Scarecrow, joyfully wrinkling his painted face into a broad smile.
   “Of course,” said the King, fretfully pacing up and down the room. “I always keep my promises, no matter how foolish they are. But I shall make an ornament of the yellow hen to replace the one I have just lost.”
   “Perhaps you will, and perhaps you won’t,” murmured Billina, calmly. “I may surprise you by guessing right.”
   “Guessing right?” snapped the King. “How could you guess right, where your betters have failed, you stupid fowl?”
   Billina did not care to answer this question, and a moment later the doors flew open and Dorothy entered, leading the little Prince Evring by the hand.
   The Scarecrow welcomed the girl with a close embrace, and he would have embraced Evring, too, in his delight. But the little Prince was shy, and shrank away from the painted Scarecrow because he did not yet know his many excellent qualities.
   But there was little time for the friends to talk, because the Scarecrow must now enter the palace. Dorothy’s success had greatly encouraged him, and they both hoped he would manage to make at least one correct guess.
   However, he proved as unfortunate as the others except Dorothy, and although he took a good deal of time to select his objects, not one did the poor Scarecrow guess aright.
   So he became a solid gold card-receiver, and the beautiful but terrible palace awaited its next visitor.
   “It’s all over,” remarked the King, with a sigh of satisfaction; “and it has been a very amusing performance, except for the one good guess the Kansas girl made. I am richer by a great many pretty ornaments.”
   “It is my turn, now,” said Billina, briskly.
   “Oh, I’d forgotten you,” said the King. “But you needn’t go if you don’t wish to. I will be generous, and let you off.”
   “No you won’t,” replied the hen. “I insist upon having my guesses, as you promised.”
   “Then go ahead, you absurd feathered fool!” grumbled the King, and he caused the opening that led to the palace to appear once more.
   “Don’t go, Billina,” said Dorothy, earnestly. “It isn’t easy to guess those orn’ments, and only luck saved me from being one myself. Stay with me and we’ll go back to the Land of Ev together. I’m sure this little Prince will give us a home.”
   “Indeed I will,” said Evring, with much dignity.
   “Don’t worry, my dear,” cried Billina, with a cluck that was meant for a laugh. “I may not be human, but I’m no fool, if I AM a chicken.”
   “Oh, Billina!” said Dorothy, “you haven’t been a chicken in a long time. Not since you — you’ve been — grown up.”
   “Perhaps that’s true,” answered Billina, thoughtfully. “But if a Kansas farmer sold me to some one, what would he call me? — a hen or a chicken!”
   “You are not a Kansas farmer, Billina,” replied the girl, “and you said — ”
   “Never mind that, Dorothy. I’m going. I won’t say good-bye, because I’m coming back. Keep up your courage, for I’ll see you a little later.”
   Then Billina gave several loud “cluck-clucks” that seemed to make the fat little King MORE nervous than ever, and marched through the entrance into the enchanted palace.
   “I hope I’ve seen the last of THAT bird,” declared the monarch, seating himself again in his throne and mopping the perspiration from his forehead with his rock-colored handkerchief. “Hens are bothersome enough at their best, but when they can talk they’re simply dreadful.”
   “Billina’s my friend,” said Dorothy quietly. “She may not always be ‘zactly polite; but she MEANS well, I’m sure.”

16. Purple, Green, and Gold

   The yellow hen, stepping high and with an air of vast importance, walked slowly over the rich velvet carpets of the splendid palace, examining everything she met with her sharp little eyes.
   Billina had a right to feel important; for she alone shared the Nome King’s secret and knew how to tell the objects that were transformations from those that had never been alive. She was very sure that her guesses would be correct, but before she began to make them she was curious to behold all the magnificence of this underground palace, which was perhaps one of the most splendid and beautiful places in any fairyland.
   As she went through the rooms she counted the purple ornaments; and although some were small and hidden in queer places, Billina spied them all, and found the entire ten scattered about the various rooms. The green ornaments she did not bother to count, for she thought she could find them all when the time came.
   Finally, having made a survey of the entire palace and enjoyed its splendor, the yellow hen returned to one of the rooms where she had noticed a large purple footstool. She placed a claw upon this and said “Ev,” and at once the footstool vanished and a lovely lady, tall and slender and most beautifully robed, stood before her.
   The lady’s eyes were round with astonishment for a moment, for she could not remember her transformation, nor imagine what had restored her to life.
   “Good morning, ma’am,” said Billina, in her sharp voice. “You’re looking quite well, considering your age.”
   “Who speaks?” demanded the Queen of Ev, drawing herself up proudly.
   “Why, my name’s Bill, by rights,” answered the hen, who was now perched upon the back of a chair; “although Dorothy has put scollops on it and made it Billina. But the name doesn’t matter. I’ve saved you from the Nome King, and you are a slave no longer.”
   “Then I thank you for the gracious favor,” said the Queen, with a graceful courtesy. “But, my children — tell me, I beg of you — where are my children?” and she clasped her hands in anxious entreaty.
   “Don’t worry,” advised Billina, pecking at a tiny bug that was crawling over the chair back. “Just at present they are out of mischief and perfectly safe, for they can’t even wiggle.”
   “What mean you, O kindly stranger?” asked the Queen, striving to repress her anxiety.
   “They’re enchanted,” said Billina, “just as you have been — all, that is, except the little fellow Dorothy picked out. And the chances are that they have been good boys and girls for some time, because they couldn’t help it.”
   “Oh, my poor darlings!” cried the Queen, with a sob of anguish.
   “Not at all,” returned the hen. “Don’t let their condition make you unhappy, ma’am, because I’ll soon have them crowding ’round to bother and worry you as naturally as ever. Come with me, if you please, and I’ll show you how pretty they look.”
   She flew down from her perch and walked into the next room, the Queen following. As she passed a low table a small green grasshopper caught her eye, and instantly Billina pounced upon it and snapped it up in her sharp bill. For grasshoppers are a favorite food with hens, and they usually must be caught quickly, before they can hop away. It might easily have been the end of Ozma of Oz, had she been a real grasshopper instead of an emerald one. But Billina found the grasshopper hard and lifeless, and suspecting it was not good to eat she quickly dropped it instead of letting it slide down her throat.
   “I might have known better,” she muttered to herself, “for where there is no grass there can be no live grasshoppers. This is probably one of the King’s transformations.”