THE ROYAL BOOK OF OZ
In which the Scarecrow goes to search for his family tree and
discovers that he is the Long Lost Emperor of the
Silver Island, and how he was rescued and
brought back to Oz by Dorothy
and the Cowardly Lion
BY
L. FRANK BAUM
ENLARGED AND EDITED
BY
RUTH PLUMLY THOMPSON
ILLUSTRATED BY
JOHN R. NEILL
The Reilly & Lee Co.
Chicago
_Printed in the United States of America_
Copyright, 1921
by
The Reilly & Britton Co.
All Rights Reserved
Dear Children:
You will remember that, in the front part of Glinda of Oz, the
Publishers told you that when Mr. Baum went away from this world he
left behind some unfinished notes about the Princess Ozma and Dorothy
and the jolly people of the Wonderful Land of Oz. The Publishers
promised that they would try to put these notes together into a new
Oz book for you.
Well, here it is--The Royal Book of Oz.
I am sure that Mr. Baum would be pleased that Ruth Plumly Thompson,
who has known and loved the Oz Stories ever since she was a little
girl, has made this new Oz story, with all the Oz folks in it and
true to life.
You see I am Mrs. Baum, the wife of the Royal Historian of Oz, and so
I know how he feels about everything.
Now, about the story:
Of course, we all knew the Scarecrow was a very fine fellow, but
surely we never guessed he ascended from an emperor. Most of us
descend from our ancestors, but the Scarecrow really ASCENDED.
The Scarecrow had a most exciting and adventurous time on the Silver
Isle and Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion just ran out of one adventure
into another trying to rescue him. They made some charming new
friends in their travels--Sir Hokus of Pokes, the Doubtful Dromedary,
and the Comfortable Camel. You'll find them very unusual and likable.
They have the same peculiar, delightful and informal natures that we
love in all the queer Oz people.
Of course every one of us is happy that John R. Neill has drawn the
funny and lovely pictures for the new book. Mr. Neill surely is the
Royal Painter of Oz.
This note is intended for all the children of America, who knew and
loved Mr. Baum, and it goes to each of you with his love and mine.
MAUD G. BAUM.
OZCOT
HOLLYWOOD, CALIFORNIA
IN THE SPRING, 1921
LIST OF CHAPTERS
1 Professor Wogglebug's Great Idea
2 The Scarecrow's Family Tree
3 Down the Magic Bean Pole
4 Dorothy's Lonely Breakfast
5 Sir Hokus of Pokes
6 Singing Their Way Out of Pokes
7 The Scarecrow Is Hailed As Emperor!
8 The Scarecrow Studies the Silver Island
9 "Save Us With Your Magic, Exalted One!"
10 Princess Ozma and Betsy Bobbin Talk It Over
11 Sir Hokus Overcometh the Giant
12 Dorothy and Sir Hokus Come to Fix City
13 Dancing Beds and the Road That Unrolled
14 Sons and Grandsons Greet the Scarecrow
15 The Three Princes Plot to Undo the Emperor
16 Dorothy and Her Guardians Meet New Friends
17 Doubty and Camy Vanish Into Space
18 Dorothy Finds the Scarecrow!
19 Planning to Fly From the Silver Island
20 Dorothy Upsets the Ceremony of the Island
21 The Escape From the Silver Island
22 The Flight of the Parasol
23 Safe at Last in the Land of Oz
24 Homeward Bound to the Emerald City
CHAPTER 1
PROFESSOR WOGGLEBUG'S GREAT IDEA
"The very thing!" exclaimed Professor Wogglebug, bounding into the
air and upsetting his gold inkwell. "The very next idea!"
"Who--me?" A round-faced little Munchkin boy stuck his head in the
door and regarded Professor Wogglebug solemnly. He was working his
way through the Professor's Athletic college, and one of his duties
was to wait upon this eminent educator of Oz.
"Certainly not!" snapped Professor Wogglebug. "You're a nobody or a
nothing. Stop gaping and fetch me my hat. I'm off to the Emerald
City. And mind the pupils take their history pills regularly while
I'm gone," he added, clapping his tall hat Zif held out to him on the
back of his head.
"Yes, sir!" said the little Munchkin respectfully.
"Don't hurry back, sir!" This last remark the Professor did not hear,
for he was already half way down the college steps.
"Ozma will be delighted with the idea. How clever I am!" he murmured,
twirling his antennae and walking rapidly down the pleasant blue
lane.
The Professor, whose College of Art and Athletic Perfection is in the
southwestern part of the Munchkin country, is the biggest bug in Oz,
or in anyplace else, for that matter. He has made education painless
by substituting school pills for books. His students take Latin,
history and spelling pills; they swallow knowledge of every kind with
ease and pleasure and spend the rest of their time in sport. No
wonder he is so well thought of in Oz! No wonder he thinks so well of
himself!
Swinging his cane jauntily, the Professor hurried toward the yellow
brick road that leads to the Emerald City, and by nightfall had
reached the lovely capital of Oz.
Oz!--that marvelous country where no one grows old--where animals and
birds talk as sensibly as people, and adventures happen every day.
Indeed, of all fairylands in the world, Oz is the most delightful,
and of all fairy cities, the Emerald City is the most beautiful. A
soft green light shone for miles about, and the gemmed turrets and
spires of the palace flashed more brightly than the stars. But its
loveliness was familiar to Professor Wogglebug, and without a pause
he proceeded to Ozma's palace and was at once admitted to the great
hall.
A roar of merriment greeted his ears. Ozma, the lovely girl ruler of
Oz, was having a party, and the room was full of most surprising
people--surprising to some, that is, but old friends to most of us.
Jack, holding tightly to his pumpkin head, was running as fast as his
wooden feet and wobbly legs would take him from Dorothy. A game of
blind-man's-buff was in full swing, and Scraps and Tik-Tok, the
Scarecrow and Nick Chopper, the Glass Cat and the Cowardly Lion, the
Wizard of Oz and the wooden Sawhorse, Cap'n Bill and Betsy Bobbin,
Billina and the Hungry Tiger were tumbling over each other in an
effort to keep away from the blindfolded little girl.
But Dorothy was too quick for them. With a sudden whirl, she spun
'round and grasped a coatsleeve.
"The Scarecrow!" she laughed triumphantly. "I can tell by the way he
skwoshes--and now _he's_ it!"
"I'm always _it!"_ chuckled the droll person. "But--hah! Behold the
learned Professor standing so aloofly in our midst."
No one had noticed Professor Wogglebug, who had been quietly watching
the game.
"I don't like to interrupt the party," he began, approaching Ozma's
throne apologetically, "but I've just had a most brilliant idea!"
"What? Another?" murmured the Scarecrow, rolling up his eyes.
"Where did you lose it?" asked Jack Pumpkinhead, edging forward
anxiously.
"Lose it! Who said I'd lost it?" snapped the Professor, glaring at
poor Jack.
"Well, you said you'd had it, and had is the past tense, so--" Jack's
voice trailed off uncertainly, and Ozma, seeing he was embarrassed,
begged the Professor to explain.
"Your Highness!" began Professor Wogglebug, while the company settled
down in a resigned circle on the floor, "As Oz is the most
interesting and delightful country on the Continent of Imagination
and its people the most unusual and talented, I am about to compile a
Royal Book which will give the names and history of all our people.
In other words, I am to be the Great, Grand Genealogist of Oz!"
"Whatever that is," the Scarecrow whispered in Dorothy's ear.
"And," the Professor frowned severely on the Scarecrow, "with your
Majesty's permission, I shall start at once!"
"Please do," said the Scarecrow with a wave toward the door, "and we
will go on with the party!"
Scraps, the Patchwork Girl, who had been staring fixedly at the
Professor with her silver suspender-button eyes, now sprang to her
feet:
"What is a genealogist?
It's something no one here has missed;
What puts such notions in your head?
Turn out your toes--or go to bed!"
she shouted gaily, then, catching Ozma's disapproving glance, fell
over backwards.
"I don't understand it at all," said Jack Pumpkinhead in a depressed
voice. "I'm afraid my head's too ripe."
"Nor I," said Tik-Tok, the copper clockwork man. "Please wind me up a
lit-tle tight-er Dor-o-thy, I want to think!"
Dorothy obligingly took a key suspended from a hook on his back and
wound him up under his left arm. Everybody began to talk at once, and
what with the Cowardly Lion's deep growl and Tik-Tok's squeaky voice
and all the rest of the tin and meat and wooden voices, the confusion
was terrible.
"Wait!" cried Ozma, clapping her hands.
Immediately the room grew so still that one could hear Tik-Tok's
machinery whirring 'round.
"Now!" said Ozma, "One at a time, please, and let us hear from the
Scarecrow first."
The Scarecrow rose. "I think, your Highness," he said modestly, "that
anyone who has studied his Geozify already knows who we are and--"
"Who you are?" broke in the Wogglebug scornfully--"Of course they
do--but _I_ shall tell them who you _were!"_
"Who I were?" gasped the Scarecrow in a dazed voice, raising his
cotton glove to his forehead. "Who I were? Well, who were I?"
"That's just the point," said Professor Wogglebug. "Who were you? Who
were your ancestors? Where is your family? Where is your family tree?
From what did you descend?"
At each question, the Scarecrow looked more embarrassed. He repeated
the last one several times.
"From what did I descend? From what did I descend? Why, from a bean
pole!" he cried.
This was perfectly true, for Dorothy, a little girl blown by a Kansas
cyclone to the Kingdom of Oz, had discovered the Scarecrow in a
farmer's cornfield and had lifted him down from his pole. Together
they had made the journey to the Emerald City, where the Wizard of Oz
had fitted him out with a fine set of brains. At one time, he had
ruled Oz and was generally considered its cleverest citizen.
Before he could reply further, the Patchwork Girl, who was simply
irrepressible, burst out:
"An ex-straw-ordinary man is he!
A bean pole for his family tree,
A Cornishman, upon my soul,
Descended from a tall, thin Pole!"
"Nonsense!" said Professor Wogglebug sharply, "Being stuffed with
straw may make him extraordinary, but it is quite plain that the
Scarecrow was nobody before he was himself. He has no ancestors, no
family; only a bean pole for a family tree, and is therefore entitled
to the merest mention in the Royal Book of Oz!"
"How about my brains?" asked the Scarecrow in a hurt voice. "Aren't
they enough?"
"Brains have simply nothing to do with royalty!" Professor Wogglebug
waved his fountain pen firmly. "Now--"
"But see here, wasn't I ruler of Oz?" put in the Scarecrow anxiously.
"A Ruler but _never_ a royalty!" snapped out the Professor. "Now, if
you will all answer my questions as I call your names, I'll get the
necessary data and be off."
He took out a small memorandum book.
"Your Highness," he bowed to Ozma, "need not bother. I have already
entered your name at the head of the list. Being descended as you are
from a long line of fairies, your family tree is the oldest and most
illustrious in Oz."
"Princess Dorothy!"
At the sound of her name, the little girl stood up.
"I know you are from Kansas and were created a Princess of Oz by our
gracious Ruler, but can you tell me anything of your ancestors in
America?" demanded the Professor, staring over the top of his thick
glasses.
"You'll have to ask Uncle Henry and Aunt Em," said Dorothy rather
sulkily. The Professor had hurt the feelings of her best friend, the
Scarecrow, and ancestors did not interest her one little bit.
"Very well," said the Professor, writing industriously in his book.
"I'll just enter you as 'Dorothy, Princess of Oz and sixth cousin to
a President!'"
"I'm not!" Dorothy shook her head positively.
"Oh, everyone in America can claim that!" said the Professor easily.
"Nick Chopper!"
Now up rose our old friend the Tin Woodman, who had also been
discovered by Dorothy on her first trip to the Fairyland of Oz.
"You were a man of meat at one time and a woodman by trade?" queried
Professor Wogglebug, poising his pen in the air.
"I am a Tin Woodman, and you may enter me in your book under the name
of Smith, for a tin Smith made me, and as Royal Emperor of the
Winkies, I do not care to go back to my meat connections," said the
Tin Woodman in a dignified voice.
The company applauded, and the Cowardly Lion thumped the floor with
his tail.
"Smith is a very good name. I can work up a whole chapter on that,"
smiled the Professor. The Tin Woodman _had_ once been a regular person,
but a wicked witch enchanted his ax, and first it chopped off one
leg, then the other, and next both arms and his head. After each
accident, Nick went to a tinsmith for repairs, and finally was
entirely made of tin. Nowhere but in Oz could such a thing happen.
But no one can be killed in this marvelous country, and Nick, with
his tin body, went gaily on living and was considered so
distinguished that the Winkies had begged him to be their Emperor.
"Scraps!" called the Professor as Nick sat stiffly down beside
Dorothy.
The Patchwork Girl pirouetted madly to the front. Putting one finger
in her mouth, she sang:
"I'm made of patches, as you see.
A clothes tree is my family tree
But, pshaw! It's all the same to me!"
A clothes tree? Even Professor Wogglebug grinned. Who could help
laughing at Scraps? Made of odd pieces of goods and brought to life
by the powder of life, the comical girl was the jolliest person
imaginable.
"Put me down as a man of me-tal!" drawled Tik-Tok the copper man as
the laugh following Scraps' rhyme had subsided. Tik-Tok was still
another of Dorothy's discoveries, and this marvelous machine man,
guaranteed to last a thousand years, could think, walk, and talk when
properly wound.
The Cowardly Lion was entered as a King in his own right. One after
the other, the celebrities of Oz came forward to answer Professor
Wogglebug's questions. The Professor wrote rapidly in his little
book. Ozma listened attentively to each one, and they all seemed
interested except the Scarecrow. Slumped down beside Dorothy, he
stared morosely at the ceiling, his jolly face all wrinkled down on
one side.
"If I only knew who I were!" he muttered over and over. "I must
think!"
"Don't you mind." Dorothy patted his shoulder kindly. "Royalties are
out of date, and I'll bet the Professor's family tree was a
milkweed!"
But the Scarecrow refused to be comforted, and long after the company
had retired he sat hunched sadly in his corner.
"I'll do it! I'll do it!" he exclaimed at last, rising unsteadily to
his feet. Jellia Jamb, Ozma's little waiting maid, returning somewhat
later to fetch a handkerchief her mistress had dropped, was surprised
to see him running through the long hall.
"Why, where are you going?" asked Jellia.
"To find my family tree!" said the Scarecrow darkly, and drawing
himself up to his full height, he fell through the doorway.