FANTASTICAL ADVENTURES – L. Frank Baum Edition (Childhood Essentials Library). Лаймен Фрэнк Баум

and tell your bandy-legged king that as soon as his tunnel is finished the Phanfasms will be with him and lead his legions to the conquest of Oz. The deadly desert alone has kept us from destroying Oz long ago, and your underground tunnel is a clever thought. Go home, and prepare for our coming!”

      Guph was very glad to be permitted to go with this promise. The owl-man led him back down the mountain path and ordered the scarlet alligator to crawl away and allow the Nome to cross the bridge in safety.

      After the visitor had gone a brilliant and gorgeous city appeared upon the mountain top, clearly visible to the eyes of the gaily dressed multitude of Phanfasms that lived there. And the First and Foremost, beautifully arrayed, addressed the others in these words:

      “It is time we went into the world and brought sorrow and dismay to its people. Too long have we remained for ourselves upon this mountain top, for while we are thus secluded many nations have grown happy and prosperous, and the chief joy of the race of Phanfasms is to destroy happiness. So I think it is lucky that this messenger from the Nomes arrived among us just now, to remind us that the opportunity has come for us to make trouble. We will use King Roquat’s tunnel to conquer the Land of Oz. Then we will destroy the Whimsies, the Growleywogs and the Nomes, and afterward go out to ravage and annoy and grieve the whole world.”

      The multitude of evil Phanfasms eagerly applauded this plan, which they fully approved.

      I am told that the Erbs are the most powerful and merciless of all the evil spirits, and the Phanfasms of Phantastico belong to the race of Erbs.

      12. How they Matched the Fuddles

       Table of Contents

      Dorothy and her fellow travelers rode away from the Cuttenclip village and followed the indistinct path as far as the signpost. Here they took the main road again and proceeded pleasantly through the pretty farming country. When evening came they stopped at a dwelling and were joyfully welcomed and given plenty to eat and good beds for the night.

      Early next morning, however, they were up and eager to start, and after a good breakfast they bade their host goodbye and climbed into the red wagon, to which the Sawhorse had been hitched all night. Being made of wood, this horse never got tired nor cared to lie down. Dorothy was not quite sure whether he ever slept or not, but it was certain that he never did when anybody was around.

      The weather is always beautiful in Oz, and this morning the air was cool and refreshing and the sunshine brilliant and delightful.

      In about an hour they came to a place where another road branched off. There was a signpost here which read:

      THIS WAY TO FUDDLECUMJIG

      “Oh, here is where we turn,” said Dorothy, observing the sign.

      “What! Are we going to Fuddlecumjig?” asked the Captain General.

      “Yes; Ozma thought we might enjoy the Fuddles. They are said to be very interesting,” she replied.

      “No one would suspect it from their name,” said Aunt Em. “Who are they, anyhow? More paper things?”

      “I think not,” answered Dorothy, laughing; “but I can’t say ‘zactly, Aunt Em, what they are. We’ll find out when we get there.”

      “Perhaps the Wizard knows,” suggested Uncle Henry.

      “No; I’ve never been there before,” said the Wizard. “But I’ve often heard of Fuddlecumjig and the Fuddles, who are said to be the most peculiar people in all the Land of Oz.”

      “In what way?” asked the Shaggy Man.

      “I don’t know, I’m sure,” said the Wizard.

      Just then, as they rode along the pretty green lane toward Fuddlecumjig, they espied a kangaroo sitting by the roadside. The poor animal had its face covered with both its front paws and was crying so bitterly that the tears coursed down its cheeks in two tiny streams and trickled across the road, where they formed a pool in a small hollow.

      The Sawhorse stopped short at this pitiful sight, and Dorothy cried out, with ready sympathy:

      “What’s the matter, Kangaroo?”

      “Boo-hoo! Boo-hoo!” wailed the Kangaroo; “I’ve lost my mi—mi—mi—Oh, boo-hoo! Boo-hoo!”—

      “Poor thing,” said the Wizard, “she’s lost her mister. It’s probably her husband, and he’s dead.”

      “No, no, no!” sobbed the kangaroo. “It—it isn’t that. I’ve lost my mi—mi—Oh, boo, boo-hoo!”

      “I know,” said the Shaggy Man; “she’s lost her mirror.”

      “No; it’s my mi—mi—mi—Boo-hoo! My mi—Oh, Boo-hoo!” and the kangaroo cried harder than ever.

      “It must be her mince-pie,” suggested Aunt Em.

      “Or her milk-toast,” proposed Uncle Henry.

      “I’ve lost my mi—mi—mittens!” said the kangaroo, getting it out at last.

      “Oh!” cried the Yellow Hen, with a cackle of relief. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

      “Boo-hoo! I—I—couldn’t,” answered the kangaroo.

      “But, see here,” said Dorothy, “you don’t need mittens in this warm weather.”

      “Yes, indeed I do,” replied the animal, stopping her sobs and removing her paws from her face to look at the little girl reproachfully. “My hands will get all sunburned and tanned without my mittens, and I’ve worn them so long that I’ll probably catch cold without them.”

      “Nonsense!” said Dorothy. “I never heard of any kangaroo wearing mittens.”

      “Didn’t you?” asked the animal, as if surprised.

      “Never!” repeated the girl. “And you’ll probably make yourself sick if you don’t stop crying. Where do you live?”

      “About two miles beyond Fuddlecumjig,” was the answer. “Grandmother Gnit made me the mittens, and she’s one of the Fuddles.”

      “Well, you’d better go home now, and perhaps the old lady will make you another pair,” suggested Dorothy. “We’re on our way to Fuddlecumjig, and you may hop along beside us.”

      So they rode on, and the kangaroo hopped beside the red wagon and seemed quickly to have forgotten her loss. By and by the Wizard said to the animal:

      “Are the Fuddles nice people?”

      “Oh, very nice,” answered the kangaroo; “that is, when they’re properly put together. But they get dreadfully scattered and mixed up, at times, and then you can’t do anything with them.”

      “What do you mean by their getting scattered?” inquired Dorothy.

      “Why, they’re made in a good many small pieces,” explained the kangaroo; “and whenever any stranger comes near them they have a habit of falling apart and scattering themselves around. That’s when they get so dreadfully mixed, and it’s a hard puzzle to put them together again.”

      “Who usually puts them together?” asked Omby Amby.

      “Any one who is able to match the pieces. I sometimes put Grandmother Gnit together myself, because I know her so well I can tell every piece that belongs to her. Then, when she’s all matched, she knits for me, and that’s how she made my mittens. But it took a good many days hard knitting, and I had to put Grandmother together a good many times, because every time I came near, she’d scatter herself.”

      “I should think she would get used to your coming, and not be afraid,” said Dorothy.

      “It isn’t that,” replied the