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Dorothy Gale lived on a farm in Kansas, with her Aunt Em and her Uncle
Henry. It was not a big farm, nor a very good one, because sometimes the
rain did not come when the crops needed it, and then everything withered
and dried up. Once a cyclone had carried away Uncle Henry's house, so
that he was obliged to build another; and as he was a poor man he had to
mortgage his farm to get the money to pay for the new house. Then his
health became bad and he was too feeble to work. The doctor ordered him
to take a sea voyage and he went to Australia and took Dorothy with him.
That cost a lot of money, too.
Uncle Henry grew poorer every year, and the crops raised on the farm
only bought food for the family. Therefore the mortgage could not be
paid. At last the banker who had loaned him the money said that if he
did not pay on a certain day, his farm would be taken away from him.
This worried Uncle Henry a good deal, for without the farm he would have
no way to earn a living. He was a good man, and worked in the fields as
hard as he could; and Aunt Em did all the housework, with Dorothy's
help. Yet they did not seem to get along.
This little girl, Dorothy, was like dozens of little girls you know. She
was loving and usually sweet-tempered, and had a round rosy face and
earnest eyes. Life was a serious thing to Dorothy, and a wonderful
thing, too, for she had encountered more strange adventures in her short
life than many other girls of her age.
Aunt Em once said she thought the fairies must have marked Dorothy at
her birth, because she had wandered into strange places and had always
been protected by some unseen power. As for Uncle Henry, he thought his
little niece merely a dreamer, as her dead mother had been, for he could
not quite believe all the curious stories Dorothy told them of the Land
of Oz, which she had several times visited. He did not think that she
tried to deceive her uncle and aunt, but he imagined that she had
dreamed all of those astonishing adventures, and that the dreams had
been so real to her that she had come to believe them true.
Whatever the explanation might be, it was certain that Dorothy had been
absent from her Kansas home for several long periods, always
disappearing unexpectedly, yet always coming back safe and sound, with
amazing tales of where she had been and the unusual people she had met.
Her uncle and aunt listened to her stories eagerly and in spite of their
doubts began to feel that the little girl had gained a lot of experience
and wisdom that were unaccountable in this age, when fairies are
supposed no longer to exist.
Most of Dorothy's stories were about the Land of Oz, with its beautiful
Emerald City and a lovely girl Ruler named Ozma, who was the most
faithful friend of the little Kansas girl. When Dorothy told about the
riches of this fairy country Uncle Henry would sigh, for he knew that a
single one of the great emeralds that were so common there would pay all
his debts and leave his farm free. But Dorothy never brought any jewels
home with her, so their poverty became greater every year.
When the banker told Uncle Henry that he must pay the money in thirty
days or leave the farm, the poor man was in despair, as he knew he could
not possibly get the money. So he told his wife, Aunt Em, of his
trouble, and she first cried a little and then said that they must be
brave and do the best they could, and go away somewhere and try to earn
an honest living. But they were getting old and feeble and she feared
that they could not take care of Dorothy as well as they had formerly
done. Probably the little girl would also be obliged to go to work.
They did not tell their niece the sad news for several days, not wishing
to make her unhappy; but one morning the little girl found Aunt Em
softly crying while Uncle Henry tried to comfort her. Then Dorothy asked
them to tell her what was the matter.
"We must give up the farm, my dear," replied her uncle, sadly, "and
wander away into the world to work for our living."
The girl listened quite seriously, for she had not known before how
desperately poor they were.
"We don't mind for ourselves," said her aunt, stroking the little girl's
head tenderly; "but we love you as if you were our own child, and we are
heart-broken to think that you must also endure poverty, and work for a
living before you have grown big and strong."
"What could I do to earn money?" asked Dorothy.
"You might do housework for some one, dear, you are so handy; or perhaps
you could be a nurse-maid to little children. I'm sure I don't know
exactly what you _can_ do to earn money, but if your uncle and I are
able to support you we will do it willingly, and send you to school. We
fear, though, that we shall have much trouble in earning a living for
ourselves. No one wants to employ old people who are broken down in
health, as we are."
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Dorothy smiled.
"Wouldn't it be funny," she said, "for me to do housework in Kansas,
when I'm a Princess in the Land of Oz?"
"A Princess!" they both exclaimed, astonished.
"Yes; Ozma made me a Princess some time ago, and she has often begged me
to come and live always in the Emerald City," said the child.
Her uncle and aunt looked at each other in amazement. Then the man said:
"Do you suppose you could manage to return to your fairyland, my dear?"
"Oh, yes," replied Dorothy; "I could do that easily."
"How?" asked Aunt Em.
"Ozma sees me every day at four o'clock, in her Magic Picture. She can
see me wherever I am, no matter what I am doing. And at that time, if I
make a certain secret sign, she will send for me by means of the Magic
Belt, which I once captured from the Nome King. Then, in the wink of an
eye, I shall be with Ozma in her palace."
The elder people remained silent for some time after Dorothy had spoken.
Finally Aunt Em said, with another sigh of regret:
"If that is the case, Dorothy, perhaps you'd better go and live in the
Emerald City. It will break our hearts to lose you from our lives, but
you will be so much better off with your fairy friends that it seems
wisest and best for you to go."
"I'm not so sure about that," remarked Uncle Henry, shaking his gray
head doubtfully. "These things all seem real to Dorothy, I know; but I'm
afraid our little girl won't find her fairyland just what she has
dreamed it to be. It would make me very unhappy to think that she was
wandering among strangers who might be unkind to her."
Dorothy laughed merrily at this speech, and then she became very sober
again, for she could see how all this trouble was worrying her aunt and
uncle, and knew that unless she found a way to help them their future
lives would be quite miserable and unhappy. She knew that she _could_
help them. She had thought of a way already. Yet she did not tell them
at once what it was, because she must ask Ozma's consent before she
would be able to carry out her plans.
So she only said:
"If you will promise not to worry a bit about me, I'll go to the Land of
Oz this very afternoon. And I'll make a promise, too; that you shall
both see me again before the day comes when you must leave this farm."
"The day isn't far away, now," her uncle sadly replied. "I did not tell
you of our trouble until I was obliged to, dear Dorothy, so the evil
time is near at hand. But if you are quite sure your fairy friends will
give you a home, it will be best for you to go to them, as your aunt
says."
That was why Dorothy went to her little room in the attic that
afternoon, taking with her a small dog named Toto. The dog had curly
black hair and big brown eyes and loved Dorothy very dearly.
The child had kissed her uncle and aunt affectionately before she went
upstairs, and now she looked around her little room rather wistfully,
gazing at the simple trinkets and worn calico and gingham dresses, as if
they were old friends. She was tempted at first to make a bundle of
them, yet she knew very well that they would be of no use to her in her
future life.
She sat down upon a broken-backed chair--the only one the room
contained--and holding Toto in her arms waited patiently until the clock
struck four.
Then she made the secret signal that had been agreed upon between her
and Ozma.
Uncle Henry and Aunt Em waited downstairs. They were uneasy and a good
deal excited, for this is a practical humdrum world, and it seemed to
them quite impossible that their little niece could vanish from her home
and travel instantly to fairyland.
So they watched the stairs, which seemed to be the only way that Dorothy
could get out of the farmhouse, and they watched them a long time. They
heard the clock strike four, but there was no sound from above.
Half-past four came, and now they were too impatient to wait any longer.
Softly they crept up the stairs to the door of the little girl's room.
"Dorothy! Dorothy!" they called.
There was no answer.
They opened the door and looked in.
The room was empty.
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_How_ OZMA GRANTED DOROTHY'S REQUEST