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

Tiktok, “I am only a machine, and can-not feel sor-row or joy, no mat-ter what happens. But you are wrong to think yourself ter-ri-ble or fierce.”

      “Why so?” asked the Wheeler.

      “Because no one else thinks as you do. Your wheels make you helpless to in-jure an-y one. For you have no fists and can not scratch or e-ven pull hair. Nor have you an-y feet to kick with. All you can do is to yell and shout, and that does not hurt an-y one at all.”

      The Wheeler burst into a flood of tears, to Dorothy’s great surprise.

      “Now I and my people are ruined forever!” he sobbed; “for you have discovered our secret. Being so helpless, our only hope is to make people afraid of us, by pretending we are very fierce and terrible, and writing in the sand warnings to Beware the Wheelers. Until now we have frightened everyone, but since you have discovered our weakness our enemies will fall upon us and make us very miserable and unhappy.”

      “Oh, no,” exclaimed Dorothy, who was sorry to see this beautifully dressed Wheeler so miserable; “Tiktok will keep your secret, and so will Billina and I. Only, you must promise not to try to frighten children any more, if they come near to you.”

      “I won’t—indeed I won’t!” promised the Wheeler, ceasing to cry and becoming more cheerful. “I’m not really bad, you know; but we have to pretend to be terrible in order to prevent others from attacking us.”

      “That is not ex-act-ly true,” said Tiktok, starting to walk toward the path through the forest, and still holding fast to his prisoner, who rolled slowly along beside him. “You and your peo-ple are full of mischief, and like to both-er those who fear you. And you are of-ten im-pu-dent and dis-a-gree-a-ble, too. But if you will try to cure those faults I will not tell any-one how helpless you are.”

      “I’ll try, of course,” replied the Wheeler, eagerly. “And thank you, Mr. Tiktok, for your kindness.”

      “I am on-ly a machine,” said Tiktok. “I can not be kind an-y more than I can be sor-ry or glad. I can on-ly do what I am wound up to do.”

      “Are you wound up to keep my secret?” asked the Wheeler, anxiously.

      “Yes; if you be-have yourself. But tell me: who rules the Land of Ev now?” asked the machine.

      “There is no ruler,” was the answer, “because every member of the royal family is imprisoned by the Nome King. But the Princess Langwidere, who is a niece of our late King Evoldo, lives in a part of the royal palace and takes as much money out of the royal treasury as she can spend. The Princess Langwidere is not exactly a ruler, you see, because she doesn’t rule; but she is the nearest approach to a ruler we have at present.”

      “I do not re-mem-ber her,” said Tiktok. “What does she look like?”

      “That I cannot say,” replied the Wheeler, “although I have seen her twenty times. For the Princess Langwidere is a different person every time I see her, and the only way her subjects can recognize her at all is by means of a beautiful ruby key which she always wears on a chain attached to her left wrist. When we see the key we know we are beholding the Princess.”

      “That is strange,” said Dorothy, in astonishment. “Do you mean to say that so many different princesses are one and the same person?”

      “Not exactly,” answered the Wheeler. “There is, of course, but one princess; but she appears to us in many forms, which are all more or less beautiful.”

      “She must be a witch,” exclaimed the girl.

      “I do not think so,” declared the Wheeler. “But there is some mystery connected with her, nevertheless. She is a very vain creature, and lives mostly in a room surrounded by mirrors, so that she can admire herself whichever way she looks.”

      No one answered this speech, because they had just passed out of the forest and their attention was fixed upon the scene before them—a beautiful vale in which were many fruit trees and green fields, with pretty farmhouses scattered here and there and broad, smooth roads that led in every direction.

      In the center of this lovely vale, about a mile from where our friends were standing, rose the tall spires of the royal palace, which glittered brightly against their background of blue sky. The palace was surrounded by charming grounds, full of flowers and shrubbery. Several tinkling fountains could be seen, and there were pleasant walks bordered by rows of white marble statuary.

      All these details Dorothy was, of course, unable to notice or admire until they had advanced along the road to a position quite near to the palace, and she was still looking at the pretty sights when her little party entered the grounds and approached the big front door of the king’s own apartments. To their disappointment they found the door tightly closed. A sign was tacked to the panel which read as follows:

      OWNER ABSENT.

      Please Knock at the Third

      Door in the Left Wing.

      “Now,” said Tiktok to the captive Wheeler, “you must show us the way to the Left Wing.”

      “Very well,” agreed the prisoner, “it is around here at the right.”

      “How can the left wing be at the right?” demanded Dorothy, who feared the Wheeler was fooling them.

      “Because there used to be three wings, and two were torn down, so the one on the right is the only one left. It is a trick of the Princess Langwidere to prevent visitors from annoying her.”

      Then the captive led them around to the wing, after which the machine man, having no further use for the Wheeler, permitted him to depart and rejoin his fellows. He immediately rolled away at a great pace and was soon lost to sight.

      Tiktok now counted the doors in the wing and knocked loudly upon the third one.

      It was opened by a little maid in a cap trimmed with gay ribbons, who bowed respectfully and asked:

      “What do you wish, good people?”

      “Are you the Princess Langwidere?” asked Dorothy.

      “No, miss; I am her servant,” replied the maid.

      “May I see the Princess, please?”

      “I will tell her you are here, miss, and ask her to grant you an audience,” said the maid. “Step in, please, and take a seat in the drawing-room.”

      So Dorothy walked in, followed closely by the machine. But as the yellow hen tried to enter after them, the little maid cried “Shoo!” and flapped her apron in Billina’s face.

      “Shoo, yourself!” retorted the hen, drawing back in anger and ruffling up her feathers. “Haven’t you any better manners than that?”

      “Oh, do you talk?” enquired the maid, evidently surprised.

      “Can’t you hear me?” snapped Billina. “Drop that apron, and get out of the doorway, so that I may enter with my friends!”

      “The Princess won’t like it,” said the maid, hesitating.

      “I don’t care whether she likes it or not,” replied Billina, and fluttering her wings with a loud noise she flew straight at the maid’s face. The little servant at once ducked her head, and the hen reached Dorothy’s side in safety.

      “Very well,” sighed the maid; “if you are all ruined because of this obstinate hen, don’t blame me for it. It isn’t safe to annoy the Princess Langwidere.”

      “Tell her we are waiting, if you please,” Dorothy requested, with dignity. “Billina is my friend, and must go wherever I go.”

      Without more words the maid led them to a richly furnished drawing-room, lighted with subdued rainbow tints that came in through beautiful stained-glass windows.

      “Remain here,” she said. “What names shall I give the Princess?”

      “I am Dorothy