CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

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Wandering through the woods, without knowing where you are going or what

adventure you are about to meet next, is not as pleasant as one might

think. The woods are always beautiful and impressive, and if you are not

worried or hungry you may enjoy them immensely; but Dorothy was worried

and hungry that morning, so she paid little attention to the beauties of

the forest, and hurried along as fast as she could go. She tried to keep

in one direction and not circle around, but she was not at all sure that

the direction she had chosen would lead her to the camp.

By and by, to her great joy, she came upon a path. It ran to the right

and to the left, being lost in the trees in both directions, and just

before her, upon a big oak, were fastened two signs, with arms pointing

both ways. One sign read:

[Illustration: (hand pointing right)] TAKE THE OTHER ROAD TO BUNBURY

and the second sign read:

[Illustration: (hand pointing right)] TAKE THE OTHER ROAD TO BUNNYBURY

"Well!" exclaimed Billina, eyeing the signs, "this looks as if we were

getting back to civilization again."

"I'm not sure about the civil'zation, dear," replied the little girl;

"but it looks as if we might get _somewhere_, and that's a big relief,

anyhow."

"Which path shall we take?" inquired the Yellow Hen.

Dorothy stared at the signs thoughtfully.

"Bunbury sounds like something to eat," she said. "Let's go there."

"It's all the same to me," replied Billina. She had picked up enough

bugs and insects from the moss as she went along to satisfy her own

hunger, but the hen knew Dorothy could not eat bugs; nor could Toto.

The path to Bunbury seemed little traveled, but it was distinct enough

and ran through the trees in a zigzag course until it finally led them

to an open space filled with the queerest houses Dorothy had ever seen.

They were all made of crackers, laid out in tiny squares, and were of

many pretty and ornamental shapes, having balconies and porches with

posts of bread-sticks and roofs shingled with wafer-crackers.

There were walks of bread-crusts leading from house to house and

forming streets, and the place seemed to have many inhabitants.

When Dorothy, followed by Billina and Toto, entered the place, they

found people walking the streets or assembled in groups talking

together, or sitting upon the porches and balconies.

And what funny people they were!

Men, women, and children were all made of buns and bread. Some were thin

and others fat; some were white, some light brown and some very dark of

complexion. A few of the buns, which seemed to form the more important

class of the people, were neatly frosted. Some had raisins for eyes and

currant buttons on their clothes; others had eyes of cloves and legs of

stick cinnamon, and many wore hats and bonnets frosted pink and green.

There was something of a commotion in Bunbury when the strangers

suddenly appeared among them. Women caught up their children and hurried

into their houses, shutting the cracker doors carefully behind them.

Some men ran so hastily that they tumbled over one another, while

others, more brave, assembled in a group and faced the intruders

defiantly.

Dorothy at once realized that she must act with caution in order not to

frighten these shy people, who were evidently unused to the presence of

strangers. There was a delightful fragrant odor of fresh bread in the

town, and this made the little girl more hungry than ever. She told Toto

and Billina to stay back while she slowly advanced toward the group that

stood silently awaiting her.

"You must 'scuse me for coming unexpected," she said, softly, "but I

really didn't know I was coming here until I arrived. I was lost in the

woods, you know, and I'm as hungry as anything."

"Hungry!" they murmured, in a horrified chorus.

"Yes; I haven't had anything to eat since last night's supper," she

explained. "Are there any eatables in Bunbury?"

They looked at one another undecidedly, and then one portly bun man, who

seemed a person of consequence, stepped forward and said:

"Little girl, to be frank with you, we are all eatables. Everything in

Bunbury is eatable to ravenous human creatures like you. But it is to

escape being eaten and destroyed that we have secluded ourselves in this

out-of-the-way place, and there is neither right nor justice in your

coming here to feed upon us."

Dorothy looked at him longingly.

"You're bread, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes; bread and butter. The butter is inside me, so it won't melt and

run. I do the running myself."

At this joke all the others burst into a chorus of laughter, and Dorothy

thought they couldn't be much afraid if they could laugh like that.

"Couldn't I eat something besides people?" she asked. "Couldn't I eat

just one house, or a side-walk, or something? I wouldn't mind much what

it was, you know."

"This is not a public bakery, child," replied the man, sternly. "It's

private property."

"I know Mr.--Mr.--"

"My name is C. Bunn, Esquire," said the man. "C stands for Cinnamon, and

this place is called after my family, which is the most aristocratic in

the town."

"Oh, I don't know about that," objected another of the queer people.

"The Grahams and the Browns and Whites are all excellent families, and

there are none better of their kind. I'm a Boston Brown, myself."

"I admit you are all desirable citizens," said Mr. Bunn, rather stiffly;

"but the fact remains that our town is called Bunbury."

"'Scuse me," interrupted Dorothy; "but I'm getting hungrier every

minute. Now, if you're polite and kind, as I'm sure you ought to be,

you'll let me eat _something_. There's so much to eat here that you

never will miss it."

Then a big, puffed-up man, of a delicate brown color, stepped forward

and said:

"I think it would be a shame to send this child away hungry, especially

as she agrees to eat whatever we can spare and not touch our people."

"So do I, Pop," replied a Roll who stood near.

"What, then, do you suggest, Mr. Over?" inquired Mr. Bunn.

"Why, I'll let her eat my back fence, if she wants to. It's made of

waffles, and they're very crisp and nice."

"She may also eat my wheelbarrow," added a pleasant looking Muffin.

"It's made of nabiscos with a zuzu wheel."

"Very good; very good," remarked Mr. Bunn. "That is certainly very kind

of you. Go with Pop Over and Mr. Muffin, little girl, and they will feed

you."

"Thank you very much," said Dorothy, gratefully. "May I bring my dog

Toto, and the Yellow Hen? They're hungry, too."

"Will you make them behave?" asked the Muffin.

"Of course," promised Dorothy.

"Then come along," said Pop Over.

So Dorothy and Billina and Toto walked up the street and the people

seemed no longer to be at all afraid of them. Mr. Muffin's house came

first, and as his wheelbarrow stood in the front yard the little girl

ate that first. It didn't seem very fresh, but she was so hungry that

she was not particular. Toto ate some, too, while Billina picked up the

crumbs.

While the strangers were engaged in eating, many of the people came and

stood in the street curiously watching them. Dorothy noticed six roguish

looking brown children standing all in a row, and she asked:

"Who are you, little ones?"

"We're the Graham Gems," replied one; "and we're all twins."

"I wonder if your mother could spare one or two of you?" asked Billina,

who decided that they were fresh baked; but at this dangerous question

the six little gems ran away as fast as they could go.

"You mustn't say such things, Billina," said Dorothy, reprovingly. "Now

let's go into Pop Over's back yard and get the waffles."

"I sort of hate to let that fence go," remarked Mr. Over, nervously, as

they walked toward his house. "The neighbors back of us are Soda

Biscuits, and I don't care to mix with them."

"But I'm hungry yet," declared the girl. "That wheelbarrow wasn't very

big."

"I've got a shortcake piano, but none of my family can play on it," he

said, reflectively. "Suppose you eat that."

"All right," said Dorothy; "I don't mind. Anything to be accomodating."

[Illustration]

So Mr. Over led her into the house, where she ate the piano, which was

of an excellent flavor.

"Is there anything to drink here?" she asked.

"Yes; I've a milk pump and a water pump; which will you have?" he asked.

"I guess I'll try 'em both," said Dorothy.

So Mr. Over called to his wife, who brought into the yard a pail made of

some kind of baked dough, and Dorothy pumped the pail full of cool,

sweet milk and drank it eagerly.

The wife of Pop Over was several shades darker than her husband.

"Aren't you overdone?" the little girl asked her.

"No indeed," answered the woman. "I'm neither overdone nor done over;

I'm just Mrs. Over, and I'm the President of the Bunbury Breakfast

Band."

Dorothy thanked them for their hospitality and went away. At the gate

Mr. Cinnamon Bunn met her and said he would show her around the town.

"We have some very interesting inhabitants," he remarked, walking

stiffly beside her on his stick-cinnamon legs; "and all of us who are in

good health are well bred. If you are no longer hungry we will call upon

a few of the most important citizens."

Toto and Billina followed behind them, behaving very well, and a little

way down the street they came to a handsome residence where Aunt Sally

Lunn lived. The old lady was glad to meet the little girl and gave her a

slice of white bread and butter which had been used as a door-mat. It

was almost fresh and tasted better than anything Dorothy had eaten in

the town.

"Where do you get the butter?" she inquired.

"We dig it out of the ground, which, as you may have observed, is all

flour and meal," replied Mr. Bunn. "There is a butter mine just at the

opposite side of the village. The trees which you see here are all

doughleanders and doughderas, and in the season we get quite a crop of

dough-nuts off them."

"I should think the flour would blow around and get into your eyes,"

said Dorothy.

"No," said he; "we are bothered with cracker dust sometimes, but never

with flour."

Then he took her to see Johnny Cake, a cheerful old gentleman who lived

near by.

"I suppose you've heard of me," said old Johnny, with an air of pride.

"I'm a great favorite all over the world."

"Aren't you rather yellow?" asked Dorothy, looking at him critically.

"Maybe, child. But don't think I'm bilious, for I was never in better

health in my life," replied the old gentleman. "If anything ailed me,

I'd willingly acknowledge the corn."

"Johnny's a trifle stale," said Mr. Bunn, as they went away; "but he's a

good mixer and never gets cross-grained. I will now take you to call

upon some of my own relatives."

They visited the Sugar Bunns, the Currant Bunns and the Spanish Bunns,

the latter having a decidedly foreign appearance. Then they saw the

French Rolls, who were very polite to them, and made a brief call upon

the Parker H. Rolls, who seemed a bit proud and overbearing.

"But they're not as stuck up as the Frosted Jumbles," declared Mr. Bunn,

"who are people I really can't abide. I don't like to be suspicious or

talk scandal, but sometimes I think the Jumbles have too much baking

powder in them."

Just then a dreadful scream was heard, and Dorothy turned hastily around

to find a scene of great excitement a little way down the street. The

people were crowding around Toto and throwing at him everything they

could find at hand. They pelted the little dog with hard-tack, crackers,

and even articles of furniture which were hard baked and heavy enough

for missiles.

Toto howled a little as the assortment of bake stuff struck him; but he

stood still, with head bowed and tail between his legs, until Dorothy

ran up and inquired what the matter was.

"Matter!" cried a rye loafer, indignantly, "why the horrid beast has

eaten three of our dear Crumpets, and is now devouring a Salt-rising

Biscuit!"

"Oh, Toto! How could you?" exclaimed Dorothy, much distressed.

Toto's mouth was full of his salt-rising victim; so he only whined and

wagged his tail. But Billina, who had flown to the top of a cracker

house to be in a safe place, called out:

"Don't blame him, Dorothy; the Crumpets dared him to do it."

"Yes, and you pecked out the eyes of a Raisin Bunn--one of our best

citizens!" shouted a bread pudding, shaking its fist at the Yellow Hen.

"What's that! What's that?" wailed Mr. Cinnamon Bunn, who had now joined

them. "Oh, what a misfortune--what a terrible misfortune!"

"See here," said Dorothy, determined to defend her pets, "I think we've

treated you all pretty well, seeing you're eatables, an' reg'lar food

for us. I've been kind to you, and eaten your old wheelbarrows and

pianos and rubbish, an' not said a word. But Toto and Billina can't be

'spected to go hungry when the town's full of good things they like to

eat, 'cause they can't understand your stingy ways as I do."

"You must leave here at once!" said Mr. Bunn, sternly.

"Suppose we won't go?" asked Dorothy, who was now much provoked.

"Then," said he, "we will put you into the great ovens where we are

made, and bake you."

Dorothy gazed around and saw threatening looks upon the faces of all.

She had not noticed any ovens in the town, but they might be there,

nevertheless, for some of the inhabitants seemed very fresh. So she

decided to go, and calling to Toto and Billina to follow her she marched

up the street with as much dignity as possible, considering that she was

followed by the hoots and cries of the buns and biscuits and other bake

stuff.

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_How_ OZMA LOOKED INTO THE MAGIC PICTURE

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