DOROTHY AND SIR HOKUS COME TO FIX CITY
The afternoon went pleasantly for the three travelers. The road was
wide and shady and really seemed a bit familiar. Dorothy rode
comfortably on the Cowardly Lion's back and to pass the time told Sir
Hokus all about Oz. He was particularly interested in the Scarecrow.
"Grammercy! He should be knighted!" he exclaimed, slapping his knee,
as Dorothy told how the clever straw man had helped outwit the Gnome
King when that wicked little rascal had tried to keep them prisoners
in his underground kingdom.
"But, go to! Where is the gallant man now?" The Knight sobered
quickly. "Mayhap in need of a strong arm! Mayhap at the mercy of some
terrible monster!"
"Oh, I hope not!" cried Dorothy, dismayed at so dark a picture. "Why,
oh why, did he bother about his family tree?"
"Trust the Scarecrow to take care of himself," said the Cowardly Lion
in a gruff voice. Nevertheless, he quickened his steps. "The sooner
we reach the Emerald City, the sooner we'll know where he is!"
The country through which they were passing was beautiful, but quite
deserted. About five o'clock, they came to a clear little stream, and
after Dorothy and Sir Hokus had washed their faces and the Cowardly
Lion had taken a little plunge, they all felt refreshed. Later they
came to a fine pear orchard, and as no one was about they helped
themselves generously.
The more Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion saw of Sir Hokus, the fonder
of him they grew. He was so kind-hearted and so polite.
"He'll be great company for us back in the Emerald City," whispered
the Cowardly Lion as the Knight went off to get Dorothy a drink from
a little spring. "That is, if he forgets this grammercy, bludgeon
stuff."
"I think it sounds lovely," said Dorothy, "and he's remembering more
of it all the time. But I wonder why there are no people here. I do
hope we meet some before night." But no person did they meet. As it
grew darker, Sir Hokus' armor began to creak in a quite frightful
manner. Armor is not meant for walking, and the poor Knight was stiff
and tired, but he made no complaint.
"Need oiling, don't you?" asked the Cowardly Lion, peering anxiously
at him through the gloom.
"Joints in my armor a bit rusty," puffed Sir Hokus, easing one foot
and then the other. "Ah, had I my good horse!" He expressively waved
a piece of the giant's button at which he had been nibbling.
"Better climb up behind Dorothy," advised the Cowardly Lion, but Sir
Hokus shook his head, for he knew the lion was tired, too.
"I'll manage famously. This very night I may find me a steed!"
"How?" asked the lion with a yawn.
"If I sleep beneath these trees, I may have a Knight mare," chuckled
Sir Hokus triumphantly.
"Br-rrr!" roared the Cowardly Lion while Dorothy clapped her hands.
But they were not to sleep beneath the trees after all, for a sudden
turn in the road brought them right to the gates of another city.
They knew it must be a city because a huge, lighted sign hung over
the gate.
"Fix City," read Dorothy. "What a funny name!"
"Maybe they can fix us up," rumbled the lion, winking at Sir Hokus.
"Perchance we shall hear news of the valiant Scarecrow!" cried the
Knight, and limping forward he thumped on the gate with his mailed
fist. Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion pressed close behind him and
waited impatiently for someone to open the gate.
A bell rang loud back in the town. The next instant, the gates flew
open so suddenly that the three adventurers were flung violently on
their faces.
"Out upon them!" blustered Sir Hokus, getting up stiffly and running
to help Dorothy. "What way is this to welcome strangers?" He pulled
the little girl hastily to her feet, then they all ran forward, for
the gates were swinging shut again.
It was almost as light as day, for lanterns were everywhere, but
strangely enough they seemed to dart about like huge fireflies, and
Dorothy ducked involuntarily as a red one bobbed down almost in her
face. Then she gasped in real earnest and caught hold of Sir Hokus.
"Uds daggers!" wheezed the Knight. Two large bushes were running down
the path, and right in front of Dorothy the larger caught the smaller
and began pulling out its leaves.
"Leave off! Leave off!" screamed the little bush.
"That's what I'm doing," said the big bush savagely. "There won't be
a leaf on when I get through with you."
"Unhand him, villain!" cried Sir Hokus, waving his sword at the large
bush. The two bushes looked up in surprise, and when they saw
Dorothy, the Cowardly Lion and Sir Hokus, they fell into each other's
branches and burst into the most uproarious laughter.
"My dear Magnolia, this is rich! Oh, dear fellow, wait till Sit sees
this; he will be convulsed!" Quite forgetting their furious quarrel,
the two went rollicking down the path together, stopping every few
minutes to look back and laugh at the three strangers.
"Is this usual?" asked Sir Hokus, looking quite dazed.
"I never heard of bushes talking or running around, but I confess I'm
a few centuries behind times!"
"Neither did I!" exclaimed Dorothy. "But then--almost anything's
likely to happen in Oz."
"If these lanterns don't look out something will happen. I'll break
'em to bits," growled the Cowardly Lion, who had been dodging half a
dozen at once.
"How would we look--out?" sniffed one, flying at Dorothy.
"You could light out--or go out," giggled the little girl.
"We never go out unless we're put out," cried another, but as the
Cowardly Lion made a few springs, they flew high into the air and
began talking indignantly among themselves. By this time, the three
had become accustomed to the changing lights.
"I wonder where the people are," said Dorothy, peering down a wide
avenue. "There don't seem to be any houses. Oh, look!"
Three tables set for dinner with the most appetizing viands were
walking jauntily down the street, talking fluent china.
"There must be people!" cried Dorothy.
"One dinner for each of us," rumbled the Cowardly Lion, licking his
chops. "Come on!"
"Perchance they will invite us. If we follow the dinners, we'll come
to the diners," said Sir Hokus mildly.
"Right--as usual." The Cowardly Lion looked embarrassed, for he had
intended pouncing on the tables without further ceremony.
"Hush! Let's go quietly. If they hear us, they may run and upset the
dishes," warned Dorothy. So the three walked softly after the dinner
tables, their curiosity about the people of Fix growing keener at
every step. Several chairs, a sofa and a clothes tree rushed past
them, but as Dorothy said later to Ozma, after talking bushes,
nothing surprised them. The tables turned the corner at the end of
the avenue three abreast, and the sight that greeted Dorothy and her
comrades was strange indeed. Down each side of a long street as far
as they could see stood rows and rows of people. Each one was in the
exact center of a chalked circle, and they were so still that Dorothy
thought they must be statues.
But no sooner had the three tables made their appearance than bells
began ringing furiously all up and down the street, and dinner tables
and chairs came running from every direction. All the inhabitants of
Fix City looked alike. They had large, round heads, broad placid
faces, double chins, and no waists whatever. Their feet were flat and
about three times as long as the longest you have ever seen. The
women wore plain Mother Hubbard dresses and straw sailor hats, and
the men gingham suits.
While the three friends were observing all this, the tables had been
taking their places. One stopped before each Fix, and the chairs,
after much bumping and quarreling, placed themselves properly. At a
signal from the Fix in the center, the whole company sat down without
so much as moving their feet. Dorothy, Sir Hokus and the Cowardly
Lion had been too interested to speak, but at this minute a whole
flock of the mischievous lanterns clustered over their heads, and at
the sudden blare of light the whole street stopped eating and stared.
"Oh!" cried the Fix nearest them, pointing with his fork, "Look at
the runabouts!"
"This way, please! This way, please! Don't bark your shins. Don't
take any more steps than you can help!" boomed an important voice
from the middle of the street. So down the center marched the three,
feeling--as the Cowardly Lion put it--exactly like a circus.
"Stop! Names, please!" The Fix next to the center put up his knife
commandingly. Sir Hokus stepped forward with a bow:
"Princess Dorothy of Oz, the Cowardly Lion of Oz."
"And Sir Hokus of Pokes," roared the Lion as the Knight modestly
stepped back without announcing himself.
"Sir Pokus of Hoax, Howardly Kion of Boz, and Little Girl Beginning
with D," bellowed the Fix, "meet His Royal Highness, King Fix It, and
the noble Fixitives."
"Little Girl Beginning with D! That's too long," complained the King,
who, with the exception of his crown, looked like all the rest of
them, "I'll leave out the middle. What do you want, Little With D?"
"My name is Dorothy, and if your Highness could give us some dinner
and tell us something about the Scarecrow and--"
"One thing at a time, please," said the King reprovingly. "What does
Poker want, and Boz? Have they anything to spend?"
"Only the night, an' it please your Gracious Highness," said Sir
Hokus with his best bow.
"It doesn't please me especially," said the King, taking a sip of
water. "And there! You've brought up another question. How do you
want to spend it?"
He folded his hands helplessly on the table and looked appealingly at
the Fix next to him. "How am I to settle all these questions,
Sticken? First they come running around like crazy chairs, and--"
"You might ring for a settle," suggested Sticken, looking curiously
at Sir Hokus. The King leaned back with a sigh of relief, then
touched a bell. There were at least twenty bells set on a high post
at his right hand, and all of the Fixes seemed to have similar bell
posts.
"He's talking perfect nonsense," said Dorothy angrily. The Cowardly
Lion began to roll his eyes ominously.
"Let me handle this, my dear. I'm used to Kings," whispered Sir
Hokus. "Most of 'em talk nonsense. But if he grows wroth, we'll have
all the furniture in the place around our ears. Now just--"
Bump! Sir Hokus and Dorothy sat down quite suddenly. The settle had
arrived and hit them smartly behind the knees. The Cowardly Lion
dodged just in time and lay down with a growl beside it.
"Now that you're settled," began the King in a resigned voice, "we
might try again. What is your motto?"
This took even Sir Hokus by surprise, but before he could answer, the
King snapped out:
"Come late and stay early! How's that?"
"Very good," said Sir Hokus with a wink at Dorothy.
"Next time, don't come at all," mumbled Sticken Plaster, his mouth
full of biscuit.
"And you wanted?" the King asked uneasily.
"Dinner for three," said the Knight promptly and with another bow.
"Now that's talking." The King looked admiringly at Sir Hokus. "This
Little With D had matters all tangled up. One time at a thing! That's
my motto!"
Leaning over, the King pressed another button. By this time, the
Fixes had lost interest in the visitors and went calmly on with their
dinners. Three tables came pattering up, and the settle drew itself
up of its own accord. Dorothy placed the Cowardly Lion's dinner on
the ground, and then she and Sir Hokus enjoyed the first good meal
they had had since they left Pokes. They were gradually becoming used
to their strange surroundings.
"You ask him about the Scarecrow," begged Dorothy. Everybody had
finished, and the tables were withdrawing in orderly groups. The King
was leaning sleepily back in his chair.
"Ahem," began the Knight, rising stiffly, "has your Majesty seen
aught of a noble Scarecrow? And could your Supreme Fixity tell us
aught--"
The King's eyes opened. "You're out of turn," he interrupted crossly.
"We're only to the second question. How will you spend the night?"
"In sleep," answered Sir Hokus promptly, "if your Majesty permits."
"I do," said the King solemnly. "That gets me out of entertaining.
Early to bed and late to rise, that's my motto. Next! It's your
turn," he added irritably as Sir Hokus did not immediately answer.
"Have you seen aught of the noble Scarecrow?" asked Sir Hokus, and
all of them waited anxiously for the King's reply.
"I don't know about _the_ Scarecrow. I've seen _a_ Scarecrow, and a
sensible chap he was, hanging still like a reasonable person and
letting chairs and tables chase themselves 'round."
"Where was he?" asked Sir Hokus in great agitation.
"In a picture," said the King. "Wait, I'll ring for it."
"No use," said the Knight in a disappointed voice. "We're looking for
a man."
"Would you mind telling me why you are all so still, and why all your
furniture runs around?" asked Dorothy, who was growing a little
restless.
"You forget where you are, and you're out of turn. But I'll overlook
it this once," said the King. "Have you ever noticed, Little With D,
that furniture lasts longer than people?"
"Why, yes," admitted Dorothy.
"Well, there you are!" King Fix Sit folded his hands and regarded her
complacently. "Here we manage things better. We stand still and let
the furniture run around and wear itself out. How does it strike
you?"
"It seem sensible," acknowledged Dorothy. "But don't you ever grow
tired of standing still?"
"I've heard of growing hair and flowers and corn, but never of
growing tired. What is it?" asked Sticken Plaster, leaning toward
Dorothy.
"I think she's talked enough," said the King, closing his eyes.
Sir Hokus had been staring anxiously at the King for some time. Now
he came close to the monarch's side, and standing on tiptoe whispered
hoarsely: "Hast any dragons here?"
"Did you say wagons?" asked the King, opening his eyes with a
terrible yawn.
"Dragons!" hissed the Knight.
"Never heard of 'em," said the King. The Cowardly Lion chuckled
behind his whiskers, and Sir Hokus in great confusion stepped back.
"What time is it?" demanded the King suddenly. He touched a bell, and
next minute a whole company of clocks came running down the street.
The big ones pushed the little ones, and a grandfather clock ran so
fast that it tripped over a cobblestone and fell on its face, which
cracked all the way across.
"You've plenty of time; why don't you take it?" called the King
angrily, while two clothes trees helped the clock to its feet.
"They're all different," giggled Dorothy, nudging the Cowardly Lion.
Some pointed to eight o'clock, some to nine, and others to half past
ten.
"Why shouldn't they be different?" asked Sticken haughtily. "Some run
faster than others!"
"Pass the time, please," said the King, looking hard at Dorothy.
"The lazy lump!" growled the Cowardly Lion. But Dorothy picked up the
nearest little clock and handed it to King Fix Sit.
"I thought so," yawned the King, pointing at the clock. At this,
everybody began ringing bells till Dorothy was obliged to cover her
ears. In an instant, the whole street was filled with beds, "rolling
up just as if they were taxis," laughed Dorothy to Sir Hokus. The
Knight smiled faintly, but as he had never seen a taxi, he could not
appreciate Dorothy's remark.
"Here come your beds," said the King shortly. "Tell them to take you
around the corner. I can't abide snoring."
"I don't snore, thank you," said Dorothy angrily, but the King had
stepped into his bed and drawn the curtains tight.
"We might as well go to bed, I 'spose," said the little girl. "I'm so
tired!"
The three beds were swaying restlessly in the middle of the street.
They were tall, four-post affairs with heavy chintz hangings. Dorothy
chose the blue one, and Sir Hokus lifted her up carefully and then
went off to catch his bed, which had gotten into an argument with a
lamppost. When he spoke to it sharply, it left off and came trotting
over to him. The Cowardly Lion, contrary to his usual custom, leaped
into his bed, and soon the three four-posters were walking quietly
down the street, evidently following the King's instructions.
Dorothy slipped off her shoes and dress and nestled comfortably down
among the soft covers. "Just like sleeping in a train," she thought
drowsily. "What a lot I shall have to tell the Scarecrow and Ozma
when I get home."
"Good night!" said the bed politely.
"Good night!" said Dorothy, too nearly asleep to even think it
strange for a bed to talk. "Good night!"