As they walked up the neat pebble path to the little yellow house,
Peter tried to remember all he had read about Oz and its curious
inhabitants. But nothing he had read prepared him for the next
happening. In answer to their knock, the door simply burst open and
out came a hand and foot without any body at all. The hand seized
Peter’s hand, shook it warmly and drew him into the house. The foot
gave Ruggedo such a kick, he went flying into a gooseberry bush. Drawn
by the hand into a cozy sitting room, Peter stood trembling with
uneasiness. In a comfortable chair, smoking a pipe, sat the owner of
the cottage, also the owner of the hand and foot, and Peter gave a gasp
as they immediately snapped back to their proper places.
“Don’t be alarmed,” said the stranger in a soft voice and, taking the
pipe out of his mouth, he smiled kindly at the little boy. Peter was
not alarmed--he was perfectly petrified and, as the old gentleman’s
head flew off his body and looked out the window, he dropped into a
chair and began to fan himself with his cap. “I thought he’d go away,”
sighed the head regretfully, “but he’s coming into the house. Why do
you travel with a bad little creature like that?”
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“Because I’m lost,” explained Peter, in a slightly shaky voice,
turning around to address himself to the head.
“Well, you may find yourself in a heap of trouble, travelling with a
gnome. Never trust a gnome,” advised the head, coming back to settle on
the old gentleman’s shoulders. “Ah! Here he comes!”
“Who kicked me?” demanded Ruggedo, glaring all around in a perfect
fury. The owner of the cottage made no reply, but as he needed more
tobacco for his pipe just then flung out his hand toward the mantel.
The hand sailed through the air like a bird and, seizing the tobacco
pouch, set it on the table and then quietly attached itself to the
man’s wrist. At this odd occurrence, Ruggedo’s eyes rolled wildly.
Cringing against the wall, he began to move stealthily toward the door.
“Don’t go,” begged the owner of the cottage blandly. “I’m not
especially fond of gnomes, but as you are with this honest lad you
may stay. Sit down on that bench there and if I catch you stealing
anything, I’ll throw my head at you.” Pale with terror, Ruggedo did as
he was told, while the man’s hand, flying off again, closed and locked
the door.
“There!” he sighed, leaning back contentedly, “now we can talk without
being disturbed and let us start at once with names. My name,” he
confided proudly, “is Kuma Party, and I have had the curious gift which
seems so to astonish you since early childhood. My father was a wizard,
practicing magic in the Zamagoochie Country, before the practice of
magic was forbidden in Oz, and it is to my father that I attribute my
strange come-apartishness.” He paused and waited politely for Peter
to make some remark, but Peter by this time was simply speechless, so
Kuma, with an indulgent smile, went quietly on with his story.
“Being constructed as I am is extremely convenient,” he explained
earnestly. “I am never tired or rushed about as ordinary Oz folk
are. If I wish to pick the peaches in my orchard, I send my hands to
attend to the matter and while they are busily at work I rest myself
comfortably at home. If my body is tired and I desire to be amused, I
send my head to the nearest village for news and I can often help my
less fortunate neighbors by lending them a hand or foot when they are
in trouble. Perhaps I can help you?” he suggested, leaning amiably
toward Peter. “May I lend you a hand?” he finished graciously.
Now Kuma, in spite of his come-apartishness, seemed so pleasant
and jolly that Peter wanted to tell him the whole history of his
adventures, but Ruggedo frowned and shook his head, so for the present
Peter decided to fall in with the gnome’s plans and merely told Kuma
his name and asked him the way to Patch.
“Patch?” mused the Winkie thoughtfully. “Why, that’s not far from here.
It is just below the Kingdom of Queen Ann of Oogaboo, but why not
wait till morning? It’s growing dark now and besides it’s raining.”
Looking out in surprise, Peter saw that it was raining. He had been so
interested in Kuma’s story that he had not even heard the patter of
raindrops on the roof.
“Better stay,” urged Kuma hospitably. “While my hands are preparing the
supper, you can tell me some more about your own self and why you are
going to Patch.”
All during Kuma’s conversation, Ruggedo had been wiggling with
impatience and now, bouncing to his feet, he motioned for Peter to come
along.
“I guess we will have to go,” sighed Peter. “Which direction do we take
from here, Mr. Party?” The old Winkie looked disapprovingly at the
little gnome, then shaking his head and evidently concluding that it
was no affair of his, threw out his right arm. It immediately whizzed
up stairs, but was back in a moment, a large umbrella hanging in the
crook of the elbow and a lantern grasped in the hand.
“Since you must go,” said Kuma, rising slowly to his feet, “at least
let me point out the way for you and loan you an umbrella.”
“It’s very kind of you,” faltered Peter, ducking in spite of himself as
the arm passed over his head on its way to open the door. “Are you sure
you can spare it?”
“Oh, yes!” Kuma nodded cheerfully. “I still have one left, you know,
and as I’m only going to play checkers this evening, one will be
plenty. Goodbye.” He smiled, patting Peter kindly on the shoulder.
“Remember what I told you about gnomes.” He stared sternly down at
Ruggedo, and Ruggedo, not daring to meet his eye, scuttled nervously
into the garden.
“Maybe I’ll see you again,” said Peter, and shaking Kuma’s remaining
hand stepped reluctantly after the Gnome King.
“I hope so,” called Kuma and, with a farewell wave and nod he went in
and shut the door. Peter had to run to catch up with Ruggedo. He was
already out of the gate and halfway down the road. As he reached the
gnome’s side, Kuma’s arm, holding the umbrella carefully, took its
position over their heads.
“Why didn’t you stay?” grumbled Peter crossly. “There were lots of
things I wanted to ask that man.” Really he felt quite provoked with
the old gnome.
“Sh-h!” warned Ruggedo, pointing warningly up at the arm over their
heads. “Shh-hh!”
“Well, you don’t suppose he can hear through his fingers, do you?”
teased Peter, and then, because everything did seem so comical and
ridiculous, he burst into a loud laugh. “I wish grandfather could see
this,” gasped the Captain of the A. P. Baseball Team, reaching in his
pocket for his handkerchief. “Jimminy, wouldn’t it be fine to have an
extra arm in a scrap with the fellows!”
Ruggedo was too busy with his own thoughts to pay any attention to
Peter’s, so for quite a while they walked along in silence. It was
pouring steadily, but Kuma’s umbrella was so large and his hand held it
so carefully, not a drop fell upon the travelers. It was too gloomy to
see much of the country but, from the tidy farms and orchards they did
glimpse through the curtain of rain, Peter concluded that the Winkie
Country must be a very prosperous and delightful place to live in.
They had to walk briskly to keep pace with the umbrella, but after an
hour or so the rain stopped. The arm stopped also, and after standing
about uncertainly and wondering what to do, Peter reached up and closed
the umbrella. Then taking a match, which he noticed in the rim of the
lantern that swung from Kuma’s wrist, he lifted the chimney and lit the
wick within. This was evidently what the arm had been waiting for and
now it moved confidently a few paces ahead, the forefinger of its hand
pointing stiffly in the direction they were to follow. It was quite
late by now and the lantern shed a cheery light over the fast darkening
road.
Nibbling at the supper Kaliko had packed up for them, Peter and Ruggedo
hastened after Kuma’s guiding hand.
“I wonder if it will fly back when we come to Patch,” mused Peter as
they turned off the main road and into a small wood.
“Let’s hold on to it,” whispered the Gnome King craftily. “We can tie
it up somehow and then when I get my magic belt, I’ll make it work for
me.”
“That’s a nice way to repay a man for helping us,” said Peter angrily.
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
“Well, I’m not,” grunted the Gnome King, pausing to light his pipe,
“and if you are going to be general of my armies, you’d better get over
these nice ideas and notions. Didn’t I hear you say a while ago that
you’d like to have an extra arm yourself?”
“I said I’d like to have one, but I never said I’d steal one,” answered
Peter indignantly.
“Take anything you need,” advised Ruggedo, puffing away at his pipe.
“That’s my motto.” Realizing it was useless to argue with so bad a
little gnome, Peter kept his own counsel and, fixing his eyes on the
bobbing lantern ahead, wondered when they would reach Patch and what it
would be like when they did reach it. He hoped there would be no wild
animals or bandits upon the road and peered anxiously from side to side
as they made their way through the tangled woodland. But without any
worse mishap than a tumble over a fallen tree trunk, they came to the
end of the wood and struck out across a broad field.
“Tomatoes!” muttered Peter, treading carefully between the plants.
Leaning down he picked an especially tempting one and sank his teeth
deep into the side. “Ugh!” choked Peter, shuddering with distaste.
“It’s cotton! What kind of a silly country is this anyway?”
“A cotton country, I s’pose,” grinned Ruggedo, greatly amused at
Peter’s wry face. “Cotton? Why, maybe it’s Patch itself!” By the light
of Kuma’s lantern, they could now see some cottages ahead and the dim
outline of a castle.
“Rocks and Rookies!” exulted the Gnome King, waving the cloak over his
head. “It won’t be long now before I’m ruler of the realm, boy!”
“I thought you just wanted your magic belt,” puffed Peter, running
anxiously after Ruggedo.
“Oh, grow up!” called the gnome scornfully over his shoulder. “Grow up
and don’t be so soft. You’re a regular Wooshmacushion!” Shooting ahead
like an arrow, Kuma’s arm now flew so swiftly that it was all they
could do to keep up with it. By the time they had reached the castle
they had barely enough breath to mount the steps. As they did, the
arm, in a business-like manner, set down the lantern and, taking the
umbrella in its hand, thumped hard upon the castle door.
“Good!” panted Ruggedo, sinking down on the top step. “That ought to
rouse them.” When no response came, he jumped up himself and began to
kick and pound on the panels. Peter, naturally more polite, had at once
put his finger on the bell and they were thus engaged when Piecer and
Scrapper, returning from town, turned in at the gate.
“Customers,” murmured Scrapper, rubbing his hands in anticipation.
“Wizards!” faltered Piecer, pointing with a trembling finger to the
detached arm of Kuma, still beating on the door with the umbrella.
“So much the better! So much the better! Wizards always pay well.”
Running up the palace steps, the Chief Scrapper of Patch tapped Ruggedo
respectfully on the shoulder. “What can we do for you?” asked Scrapper,
pulling the castle key from his pocket.
Ruggedo had been expecting attention from the other side of the door
and was so startled that he made no answer, but the hand of Kuma
immediately dropped the umbrella and shook hands with the Quilty
statesman. It then moved quickly on toward Piecer, but Piecer, with a
muffled scream, dodged behind a pillar. Snapping its fingers to show
that it did not care one way or the other, the hand approached Peter
and, after patting him approvingly on the shoulder, slipped a small
note into his pocket. Then it shook its finger sternly under Ruggedo’s
nose, picked up the lantern and umbrella and vanished from view.
Even Scrapper was somewhat dashed at this and, in a slightly choky
voice, repeated his question to Ruggedo. Ruggedo was terribly provoked
to have the arm escape but, recovering himself quickly, bowed civilly
to the two Quilties.
[Illustration]
“I have a cloak to be mended,” he announced grandly, “and will pay you
handsomely for the trouble.”
“Certainly! Certainly!” Unlocking the door, Scrapper waved them into
the shabby hallway then, lighting a candle, bade them follow him.
“I’ll take you to the Queen,” said Scrapper importantly, “and while she
is entertaining you I will fetch our most skillful needlewoman.”
As for Peter, he was so excited over the adventure with Kuma’s hand, he
could think of nothing else.
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