The Magic Pudding
"Snip," wheezed Pajuka mournfully, "when I am cooked and eaten, will
you save a few of my feathers for Ozma? And if you find the King will
you tell him that old Pajuka was faithful to--to--the last?"
In spite of himself the poor goose's voice broke and ended in a great
gulp.
"When they get through with me there'll be just enough feathers left
to stuff a pillow," choked Pajuka.
"Don't!" begged the little button boy, flinging his arms around his
friend's neck. "Besides, if I'm to be chased and scratched by all those
cats, there won't be anything left of me at all."
"I'll nip off their tails, I'll snatch out their whiskers!" raged
Pajuka, thrusting his bill through the bars of their prison. The two
had been thrown unceremoniously into a small summer house at the end of
the Queen's garden. It was surrounded by cat guards, so their chances
for escape were cut off on every side.
"Maybe something'll happen," sighed Snip, pressing his nose against the
slats. It had been late afternoon when they reached Catty Corners and
in the gathering gloom the giant cats, parading up and down, looked
like some dreadful sort of goblins. Turning back to Pajuka for comfort,
Snip was horrified to see that the goose had drawn up one foot and
closed his eyes.
"Don't fall asleep, Pajuka," begged the little boy, shaking him
frantically. "Don't fall asleep and leave me all alone."
"Can't help it Snip--hah hoh! This is what comes of being a
goose--hum!" yawned the poor prime minister. He blinked rapidly,
stamped both feet and fluttered his feathers, but it was no use. His
eyes simply would not stay open.
"Well, if I'm to be eaten," gulped Pajuka sadly, with a last monstrous
yawn, "I might as well be asleep anyway." Folding his head away
dejectedly under his wing, he stood perfectly still. At this Snip felt
so down-hearted that he sat on the floor and took the goose in his lap.
"Wonder what Mombi's doing," he shuddered, trying to catch a glimpse
of the old witch through the chinks in the lattice. To tell the truth,
Mombi was in as tight a catty corner as Snip. Having indulged her
fondness for cats to the fullest extent and, noting with alarm the
approach of night, she had finally risen and bidding the Catty Queen an
affectionate farewell, declared herself ready to depart. "And the goose
and boy must come with me," croaked Mombi, grinning secretly at the
joke she had played on them.
"With you," cried the Cat Queen, springing up in alarm. "Why, you
dear, ugly old darling, do you suppose I am ever going to let you go?
Never! As for the boy--who cares for boys? He shall entertain us all
day to-morrow. I'll call out my grand army of Maltesers, and they shall
maul and tease him to death. What fun. And the goose! I could hug you
for bringing that goose."
"But see here," panted Mombi in alarm, "I need that goose. I'm taking
him as a present to Ozma, the Queen."
"Well, I'm a Queen," sniffed the Cat crossly, "and I don't give a yowl
for Ozma. Come on, let's pluck out his feathers." And away across the
garden scampered her Majesty. Mombi picked up her basket and followed
in great haste. She knew that without Pajuka she would never recognize
the King, nor regain her magic powers. Therefore, though she had no
great love for the goose, she must find some way to save him.
"Wait!" puffed the old witch, catching up with the Queen. "Wait! I,
myself, will prepare a feast to go with the goose. I am a famous cook
and know more about roasts and sauces than anyone in Oz." Mombi rolled
her eyes boastfully.
"Do you?" murmured the Imperial Pussy, stopping short and looking
admiringly at the old witch.
"Did your Highness ever taste rice cream pudding?" inquired Mombi
mysteriously. "No goose should be eaten without a dish of pudding
before-hand. Keeps off the mullygrubs. Just let me make you a
delicious little rice cream pudding!"
"Rice cream pudding? Why that sounds delicious!" purred the Queen,
waving her tail rapturously. "Make enough for us all, dear old
ugliness, and I'll take a cat nap while you do."
"Where's the kitchen?" demanded Mombi with a wicked grin. Already
she had thought of a way out of her difficulties. Once in the catty
kitchen, really only an enclosed corner of the garden with a stone
fireplace and iron crane, Mombi set quickly to work. Filling the
largest cauldron with rich cream from the fountain, she poured in all
the boxes of rice she had in her basket and all the raisins. Then,
setting it over the fire, which two tortoise shell cats kept at blazing
point, she stirred and muttered and muttered and stirred, and just
before it was done dropped in the contents of another of her purple
cans.
Meanwhile, news of the coming treat had spread, and by the time the
pudding was finished, the fences were simply crowded with cats, their
eyes showing like green balls of fire in the darkness. There were only
a few dim lanterns in Catty Corners, for cats can see quite as well
by night as by day. Each cat had brought a saucer, and forming in an
orderly procession, they lined up before the old witch, while Mombi
ladled out helping after helping of the pudding, pausing every now and
then to wipe her forehead on her sleeve and grin wickedly to herself.
None of the cats dared eat until the Queen arrived, and when her
Highness finally did appear, a long sigh of anticipation went up from
the fences. Mombi had saved a particularly large helping for the Queen,
and when her Maltese Majesty lowered her chin over her saucer and all
the other cats started lapping up the pudding, Mombi could hardly
restrain her chuckles. The pudding really was delicious and the Queen
lapped faster and faster, as did the rest, so that in scarcely a moment
the saucers were quite empty and the company quite the reverse.
With half-closed eyes the Queen lifted her head to thank Mombi but
before she could purr a purr, she, and that whole collection of cats,
simply catapulted into the air and, while Mombi held her sides and
rocked to and fro with malicious merriment, they rolled and tumbled
toward the clouds like balloons released from their strings. No wonder!
In that purple can was a baking powder powerful enough to raise an
army--baking powder that the old witch had been collecting and refining
for twenty years.
"Hah," snorted Mombi, rubbing her hands with satisfaction. Leaning
over the fountain, she took a long drink of cream, for stirring the
pudding had made her mighty thirsty. Then, without thought of her
luckless victims, she picked up her basket and hobbled off to the
summer house. Snip, after waiting in terror for the cats to come for
Pajuka, had finally dropped into an uneasy slumber, and when Mombi
flashed a small lantern in his eyes he almost jumped out of his jacket.
"Come along, you little lazy bones," grumbled the witch, jerking him
roughly by the sleeve. "Is that silly old goose asleep too?"
"I'll carry him," said Snip stiffly and, bending over, he picked Pajuka
carefully up in his arms. He was quite an armful, but never stirred nor
wakened at all. Snip longed to tell Mombi what he thought of her, but
she looked so fierce he decided not to try it.
"Where are the cats?" he shivered, tiptoeing nervously after the
old witch. Mombi waved her stick aloft, and you can imagine the
astonishment of the little boy to see a perfect cloud of cats sailing
across the moon.
"Gave 'em rice pudding and they riz," wheezed the old witch gleefully.
Having no one else to boast to, Mombi condescended to explain her
trick to Snip. Snip, on his part, was glad to escape from the catty
creatures, but he could not help feeling a bit sorry for them.
"How long will they have to stay up there?" he inquired curiously.
"Till it rains," grunted Mombi, swinging the lantern carelessly. "But
come on, I can't stand here talking all night. We'll never reach the
Emerald City at this rate."
"Anyway," thought Snip, stepping along carefully so as not to wake
Pajuka, "anyway they can eat their supper in the milky way and won't it
be raining cats when they do come down though!"
While Mombi stopped to straighten her hat, Snip took a long drink from
one of the cream fountains. "Nobody knows when we'll get anything to
eat," said the little button boy to himself.
"Are we going to travel all night?" he puffed, running to catch up with
Mombi.
"Mind your own buttons," hissed the old witch, lapsing into her usual
ill-temper, and as she refused to say another word, there was nothing
to do but follow the uncertain flicker of her lantern. After an hour of
zig-zagging along the fences, they reached the other side, unbolted the
great iron doors in the wall and found themselves in another forest.
Snip thought surely Mombi would stop, but the old witch went muttering
and mumbling along, her eyes gleaming like hot coals in the darkness.
Every once in a while, she would glance sideways at Snip in a way that
caused him great uneasiness. To tell the truth, Mombi had about decided
to rid herself of the little button boy. He knew too much and might run
off and tell Ozma her plans before she could reach the Emerald City,
herself. With Pajuka's help, Mombi meant to find the old King, if she
could, but when he had restored her magic powers Mombi intended to be
the real ruler of Oz. So, hurrying along through the inky forest, she
began casting about in her mind for a way to destroy Snip.
"I'll wait till I reach the center of the forest," hissed Mombi,
stumping along under the silent trees, "and then--"
"What did you say?" asked Snip anxiously.
"Nothing," grunted Mombi, smiling sourly to herself, "at least nothing
that concerns you."