Classic Audiobook Collection - The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumly Thompson ~ Full Audiobook [fantasy]

Episode Date: April 18, 2025

The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumly Thompson audiobook. Genre: fantasy When trouble brews beyond the borders of Oz, the gentle-hearted Hungry Tiger is blamed for having a fiercer nature than he truly possesses. In the tiny kingdom of Rash, the bullying Pasha Irasha the Rough is desperate for a terrifying beast to solve his overflowing prison problem, and his crafty Vizier schemes to lure Oz's most famous tiger across the desert. But the Hungry Tiger, for all his rumbling appetite, is too kind to become anyone's monster. At the same time, adventurous Betsy Bobbin and Carter Green the Vegetable Man are swept off course by odd magic and unlucky turns, only to land in Rash and be tossed into the same crowded jail. There they meet Prince Evered, called Reddy, the rightful heir with a dangerous secret and a slim chance of reclaiming his throne. Escape leads to a whirlwind quest for the three Rash Rubies, with traps, kidnappers, and strange lands in their path - including encounters with gnomes and the towering Big Wigs. Back in the Emerald City, even Princess Ozma faces an unnerving threat from Atmos Fere, a curious being from the upper air. Loyalties are tested as courage and compassion become the only true magic worth trusting. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:15:28) Chapter 02 (00:31:14) Chapter 03 (00:46:47) Chapter 04 (01:03:17) Chapter 05 (01:15:14) Chapter 06 (01:34:27) Chapter 07 (01:43:04) Chapter 08 (01:57:24) Chapter 09 (02:13:29) Chapter 10 (02:30:03) Chapter 11 (02:42:30) Chapter 12 (02:54:01) Chapter 13 (03:02:17) Chapter 14 (03:16:24) Chapter 15 (03:29:07) Chapter 16 (03:44:59) Chapter 17 (03:57:38) Chapter 18 (04:11:04) Chapter 19 (04:23:24) Chapter 20 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Lumley Thompson. Chapter 1. The Pasha of Rash. Burnt again, roared the Pasha of Rash, flinging his bowl of pudding across the table. Vassels, varlets, villains, fetch forth the cook. At the Pasha's furious words, the two Rash footmen, who stood behind his chair, took a running slide down the long dining hall, and leaped through the door into the pantry. Several cups crashed against the door as it closed,

so it is just as well that they hurried. As the pasha reached for a large sauce dish, Ipity, the chief scribe of the realm, slipped quietly under the table, where he began jotting down in a little notebook, each shocking remark about the pudding, making a huge blot whenever a plate broke or a cup splintered to fragments.

He had to write pretty fast to keep up with the peppery little Pasha, and covered three pages with notes and blots by the time the footman returned with Husha, the cook shivering between them. So, weezed the ruler of all the rashes, puffing out his cheeks and glaring at the frightened little man, Here you are! Am? choked the poor cook, falling upon his knees, "'And may your excellency live forever?' "'Live forever,' sputtered the pasha, fumping the table with his fist.

"'On burnt puddings and raw roasts! It's a wonder I'm alive at all. Do you take me for an ostrich that you serve me lumps of charcoal and call it pudding? Are you a cook or a donkey?' At this Ippity lifted a corner of the tablecloth and peered out dissoning. see what Hasha would say. Then as the cook made no remark, he calmly wrote, Donkey, closed the little book, and crept cautiously out from his hiding place. There were only three spoons left on the table, and he felt pretty sure that these would be flung at Hasha and not at him. He was perfectly right about this, and as the last one clattered down upon the head of the luckless cook, Hasha rose and extending both arms,

began tremulously. I did not burn the pudding, excellency. It was the fire. The fire! Raged the Pasha, his eyes fairly popping with indignation. Do you hear that, Ippity? He blames it on the fire. And who tends the fire pray?

Put him out, fire him. Fizz and pop, you old rascal, where are you? The fire shall be put out and the cook shall be fired, muttered Ippity, flipping his book open and scribbling away industriously. This he could readily do, for the first finger of the scribe's right hand was a fountain pin, his second finger a long yellow pencil, his third finger and eraser, his little finger a stick of ceiling wax, and his thumb a fat candle.

Ippity's left hand was quite usual except for the penknife that served him for a thumb. Blotting the last entry in the book with his cuff, which was neatly cut from blotting paper, he turned expectantly toward the door, just as Fizzinpop, the Grand Vizier, came hurtling through. Being Grand Vizier of rash was no easy task, and Fisin'pop had grown thin and bald in the service of his country. What, no, he gasped, pulling on his slipper and looking anxiously from one to the other. "'Polish this pudding burner,' commanded the Pasha, angrily. "'Put him—' "'In jail?' chuckled Ipity.

"'In other words, you are to incarcerate the cook.' The chief scribe loved long words, and knew almost as many as the crossword puzzle-makers. "'But, Your Highness,' objected the Grand Vizier, pointing his long. finger. The prison is already overcrowded. Could we not cut off his—Hasha looked imploringly at Fisand-pop, and the Grand Vizier, clearing his throat, finished hastily, cut off his allowance instead? No, thundered I rasha furiously. I'll be peppered if I will. Prison is the place for him. Out of my sight, Scullion! He waved contemptuously at the time. the cook.

All right, sighed Fiss and Pop. I'll put him in the cell with your grand uncle. The Pasha's grand uncle had been flung into prison for beating the rash sovereign at chess. But remember, warned the grand vizier, as Hasha was led disconsolently away by the guards. Remember there is not room for another person. Your highness will have to find some are the way to dispose of prisoners. "'What can I do?' mumbled the Pasha, leaning sulkily on his elbow. "'If you take my advice, you'd set them all free,' said Fisandpop calmly.

"'With half the population in prison, how do you expect to get any work done?' "'Well, why don't they behave themselves, then?' demanded the Pasha fretfully. Fisnpop sighed again but made no further answer. "'What used to ask this wicked little ruler why he did not bear? himself. Half the arrests in rash were for no reason at all, and as you are probably puzzling about the location of this singular country, I must tell you that rash is a small, pink kingdom in the southwestern country of Ev, and directly across the deadly desert from the fairyland of Oz. The rashes, it is true, are a hasty and hot-tempered race, and always breaking out in

spots, but they are warm-hearted and generous as well, and with just treatment and proper handling as loyal subjects as a sovereign could ask for. But Irisha, the present Pasha, was neither just nor wise. He had seized the throne by treasury and was feared and hated by the entire rash nation, so that one revolution followed another, and the realm was in a constant state of uproar. Again and again poor old Fis and poppaw. would make up his mind to retire, but feeling that he could serve his countrymen better by remaining, had stayed on, enduring the terrible tempers of the Pasha, and living for the day when the rightful ruler should be restored to the throne.

"'Well, why don't you say something?' growled I rash up, growing irritable at the long silence. "'What do other countries do with their prisoners? "'Why not destroy them?' proposed Ippity cheerfully, before Fisand Pop had a chance to answer. The chief scribe was as cruel and merciless as his master. Irisha had discovered him in a rash bookshop where he was employed as clerk, and fascinated by his strange hands, had raised him to his present important position. "'In ancient countries,' continued Ippity, sharpening the second finger of his right hand with a thumb of his left, in ancient countries prisoners were thrown to the wild beasts. Now I call that

very neat, no fuss or worry and practically no expense. Ippity closed his thumb with a pleased smile and looked brightly at the Pasha. What? shrieked Fissinpop, stamping his foot furiously at the scribe. Who would ever think of such a thing? I would, answered the Pasha calmly. I think it's a very good plan, Ipity. But the trouble is, he paused and pushed back his spotted turban. The trouble is we have no wild animals.

I wish I had a wild animal, sighed irasha, gloomily. With the exception of a few speckled bears, there are no animals of any kind in rash, and fizzin pop had just drawn a long breath of relief when Ippity began again. But there are plenty of wild animals in Oz, Your Highness, suggested Ippity. Why not send across the deadly desert and get a wild animal from Oz? Why not? The Pasha straightened up in his chair and looked almost pleasant. I believe I will, he mused thoughtfully.

An excellent notion, Ipity. For in that case we should not need a prison at all, and the expense of feeding the monster would be practically nothing. And what's to prevent it from eating us? demanded Fiss and Pop explosively. Up to now, he had been able to soften the long. lot of the rash prisoners very considerably. He shuddered to think what would happen if Ippity's dreadful plan really were carried out. But Fisand Pop was too wise to openly oppose this rash

pair, so he merely shrugged his shoulders. Well, he sighed, folding his arms resignedly. I hope it works out. I myself am too thin to worry, but this beast will probably consider you and Ippity choice morsels. He rolled his eyes side. sideways of the fat little Pasha and the still fatter scribe. How will a wild animal know the difference between Pashas and prisoners? He inquired sarcastically. Irisha looked rather uncomfortable. We'll have to get a civilized wild animal, he muttered uneasily,

an educated fellow who will eat whom we tell him to and obey the laws of the country. And whoever heard of a civilized wild animal, sniffed the grand vizabeth. vizier with a sour smile. I have, declared Ippity, elevating his nose disagreeably. There are any number of educated wild animals in the Emerald City of Oz. There's the cowardly lion, for instance.

There's the comfortable camel, and the doubtful dromedary, and there's the hungry tiger. How about the hungry tiger? asked Ipity triumphantly. Hungry tiger. Viss and Pop gave a gag. gasp of dismay, for he had never heard of such a creature. "'Let's get the hungry tiger,' yawned the pasha, who was growing rather sleepy.

"'He'll be just the one for us. But are you sure he's tame and harmless, Ipity, and safe to have about?' "'Oh, quite,' Ippity assured him quickly. "'Why, he wouldn't hurt a baby. His conscience is so tender. That's why he's hungry, you know.' "'Then what makes you think he will eat the prisoners?' asked the Grand Vizier nervously. Well, observed Ippity, scratching his ear with his fountain pen. When this tiger realizes that it is perfectly legal and lawful to eat prisoners,

I dare say he will jump at the chance, for in that way he can satisfy his appetite and his conscience at the same time. There are no criminals in the Emerald City, for Osma the Queen is a silly, soft-hearted little fairy, and never arrests anyone. So the hungry tiger will be glad enough to come here and eat our prisoners. "'Ippity is right,' puffed the Pasha, rising stiffly from his chair. "'Just take a hurricane from the stand there and fetch back this hungry tiger old fellow, and if you won't come, fetch him anyway.' "'Certainly, Your Highness,' murmured the scribe, bowing low. "'I will start for Oz at once.'

"'You'll be sorry for this,' panted Fizzin'pop, as the pasha's pudgy figure disappeared down the pink passageway, and between anger and anxiety, the Grand Vizier of Rash began to hop up and down like a jumping jack. "'What are you dancing?' yawned Ippity. A peppered jig. And rushing insolently past Fiszenpop, he lifted a hurricane from the stand and prepared to depart.

First he lit his right thumb, for it was growing dark, then he tore a page from his notebook and wrote, Carry me to the Emerald City. Unscrewing the top, he thrust this paper carefully down into the head of the cane and screwed the head on again. He had just time to straighten his turban before the hurricane with a whistle and crash, carried him clear out of the castle. Rushing to the window, Fiss and Pop saw him straddling like some,

some strange bird over too much mountain. The flight of Ipity was not surprising to fiss and pop, for hurricanes are one of the chief products of rash, and are nearly always used for long journeys. No, it was not Ipity's departure that worried the old statesman. It was the thought of Ipity's return with the hungry tiger of Oz. How was he to save his poor prisoners from this dreadful beast? Pail with anxiety, he rushed into the RASH library, and after some searching, found what he

was looking for. Professor Wogglebug's Encyclopedia of Oz. All his life, Vizenpop, had been so busy straightening out affairs in rash. He had had no time to study adjacent kingdoms at all, and knew little or nothing of the great fairyland that lay across the desert. Flipping over the pages of the Encyclopedia to the tease, the Grand Vizier ran his... finger down the list till he came to the hungry tiger. This great and beautiful beast, stated the book, Charlie, came to the Emerald City during the first year of Osma's reign. He has been in all important processions and adventures since then, and is a great favorite with the celebrities of Oz. Because of his sociable nature,

he prefers life in the capital to life in the jungle, and because of his tender conscience has never been known to devour a live man, fairy, or a person. Never been known to devour a live person, shrilled Fis and Pop, dropping the encyclopedia with a bang. Merciful, mustard, what shall I do now? End of chapter one. Chapter 2 of the Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 2

Betsy's Birthday Well, sighed Betsy Bobbin, dropping into one of the royal hammocks and swinging her heels contentedly. It was the best party I ever had. I'm so full of birthday cake I feel like a sponge, groaned the cowardly lion, and sinking down on the grass he began to lick the frosting off his paws.

No wonder. You had ten pieces. grumble the hungry tiger, settling down sulkily beside him. Now I call that more than your share, old chap. Why shouldn't I have the lion's share? Chuckled the great beast, winking at Betsy. I notice you ate three roast ducks and all the plum pudding. And I am still hungry, complained the tiger, rolling his eyes sadly from side to side.

He looked so comical. Betsy burst out laughing, and the cowardly line fairly roared. Scraps, the patchwork girl, came running over to see what was the matter. All the celebrities had been invited to Betsy's party, and now, in the pleasant dusk, were walking about under the trees in the palace garden. Of all the gardens in and out of the world, there is none so lovely as Osmas, and of all the fairy cities there is none to compare with the Emerald City of Oz. Its sparkling buildings and shining streets, inlaid with emeralds, its quaint domed cottages and shimmering palace, make it a fitting capital for this enchanting fairyland.

Where but in Oz can animals talk as sensibly as men? Where but in Oz can one live forever without growing old? Where but in Oz are their wishways and truth ponds, bookmines, and firefalls, and where, but in Oz can one find such delightful companions as the scarecrow and scraps. Is it any wonder, then, that Dorothy Gale, who blew to Oz and a cyclone, that Trot and Betsybombin, who arrived in this strange country, by way of a shipwreck, have never returned to the real world? Who would? Indeed, these three little mortals live in the royal palace itself with Osma, the young fairy who rules over the four cars.

countries of Oz, and this small sovereign has gathered at her court all the most interesting and unusual people and animals in the realm. And every single one had been invited to Betsy's birthday, so that it took two rooms to hold all the presents, twenty-seven tables to see the guests, and sixty-nine footmen to pass the plates. You sit there and tell me you're hungry, gasped scraps, snapping her suspender button eyes at the hungry tiger. Why, you ate more than anyone. I counted. Scraps being well stuffed with cotton,

never ate at all and had amused herself by keeping strict watch over the others. Why scraps? Murmored Osma reprovingly. She had come off behind the patchwork girl and now gently tried to change the subject. No one ever knew what scraps would say next. made from a gay patchwork quilt and magically brought to life.

This saucy maiden was one of the most surprising people in the castle. But the hungry tiger had lived in the Emerald City too long to mind her teasing. Of course I'm hungry. He yawned, rolling over on his side. This party stuff fills me up but does not satisfy me. What I need is something alive. But don't worry, my heart. my dear, he added hastily at Osma's rather anxious expression.

I will never devour anyone, for my conscience would not permit it, so I shall be hungry to the end of my days. Why don't you have yourself stuffed? asked the scarecrow, sitting down in the hammock beside Betsy Bobbin. Then you could lose this frightful appetite and never be hungry at all. Mighty convenient being stuffed, old boy. saves no end of bother and expense. The scarecrow spoke from experience, for he was himself a stuffed person,

having been made by a munch conformer and stuck on a pole to scare away the crows. He had been lifted down and brought to the Emerald City by Dorothy on her first adventure, and since then had been restuffed and laundered many times. Of all Osma's advisers, he is the wittiest and most lovable. Have yourself stuffed, he advised cheerfully, and you straw like I do.

He stuffs himself from morning till night, snickered scraps, turning a handspring. If he were not so ugly, so yellow, and so big, I'd say he wasn't a tiger, but a greedy, weedy, scraps, Osma raised her scepter, warningly, and the patchwork girl dove into a button bush, but almost immediately her mischievous face reappeared. Pig! shouted scraps defiantly, and looked so funny, peering out of the button-bush, that even the hungry tiger had to grin. I say, though, why don't you have yourself stuffed? asked the little Wizard of Oz, who had just come up.

I've been experimenting with some new wishing powders, and might easily wish you out of your jacket and stuff you with sawdust. "'Sawdust,' coughed the hungry tiger, sitting up and lashing his tail at the very thought of such a thing. "'I should say not. I prefer my own stuffing, thank you.' "'So do I,' said Betsy, running over to give him a little hug.

You're so soft and comfortable to ride this way.' "'But sawdust is very serviceable,' urged the wizard, who was anxious to try his new powders, and I could stuff you in an hour. The wizard, by the way, is a mortal like Dorothy and Betsy. Long ago he had been engaged by a circus in Omaha to make balloon flights. But one afternoon, his balloon becoming unmanageable, had flown off up and away and never stopped till it dropped down in Oz.

It was the wizard who had built the Emerald City, and for many years he practiced the trick. magic he had learned in the circus. But later, Glenda the good sorceress of the South had taught him real magic, and he is now one of the most accomplished magicians in all fairy history. Better let me stuff you, repeated the wizard coaxingly. No, no, no, roared the hungry tiger, becoming really alarmed at the little man's persistence. No, I tell you. I am going to change my mind tomorrow. Sitting down stiffly on a bench opposite the hammock, Jack Pumpkinhead beamed upon the company.

It's almost too soft to use, mused Jack, touching the top of his pumpkin gently. So if you don't mind, I'll not talk anymore. We don't mind it all, laughed Betsy. While Dorothy and Trot, who had just joined the group, exchanged merry winks. Jack was so amusing that no one could help chuckling when he was around. He had been made by Osma when he was a little boy, and was almost as unusual as the scarecrow. To those not familiar with Oz's history. This may seem a bit strange, but Osma once was a little boy, having been transformed by

old Mombie the witch, and while she was a little boy, she had carved Jack neatly from wood and set an old pumpkin on his peg neck for a head. Later, he had been brought to life by mistake, and has been living merrily ever since. Every month or so Jack has to pick a pumpkin and hollow out a new head for himself so that he is constantly changing his mind, but Asma has a deep affection for the queer fellow, and Jack is so odd and jolly that he is a great favorite in the Emerald City. Let's finish off the party with a game of hide and seek, suggested the cowardly lion, as Jack continued to stare solemnly straight in front of him.

You're it, Betsy. Giving the little girl a playful poke, he dashed down an arbored path, followed helter-skelter by all the others. Even Jack, holding fast to his pumpkin head, ran and hit himself behind a balloon vine. But the hungry tiger ran fastest of all, never stopping till he reached the remotest corner of the garden.

All this talk of stuffing has, had made him exceedingly nervous, and with a troubled sigh he sank down beside a little fairy fountain. Here, blinking up at the bright lanterns hung everywhere in honor of Betsy's birthday, he began to think of the good old days when he had roamed the wild jungles of Oz and eaten. Well, he had best not say what he had eaten. It was the cowardly lion who had coaxed the hungry tiger to the capital.

The cowardly lion himself had come there with Dorothy and the scarecrow, and grown so fond of the place and its people that he had returned to the jungle for his old friend, the hungry tiger. And like the cowardly lion, the hungry tiger had never been able to tear himself away from this dear and delightful city. Indeed, life without the love of Dorothy, Betsy and Trot, the trust and affection of little Osma, and the companionship of all the merry dwellers in the castle would not be worth a soup bone. So the hungry tiger had never gone back, but at times the longing for real tiger food almost overcame him. I wonder if stuffing would help, sighed the poor beast, licking his chops hungrily. I wonder. What? Weised an oily voice almost in his ear. The hungry tiger, supposing himself to be alone, had spoken aloud and sprangily. bringing up found himself face to face with an ugly, red-faced and exceedingly disagreeable-looking

stranger. He was dressed in robes of pink, golden-broadered slippers, and a simply enormous turban that waggled from side to side as he talked. An oddly twisted cane swung from his left wrist, and as he extended his hand in greeting, the hungry tiger jumped back in alarm, for the stranger's thumb was blazing away merit. It was Ippity, chief scribe of Resh, for the hurricane had brought him straight to the royal gardens of the Emerald City of Oz. Am I addressing the hungry tiger of Oz? inquired Ipity.

Are you still hungry? he asked eagerly. What if I am? growled the hungry tiger, blinking suspiciously at I rash's singular messenger. What if I am? Come with me, said Ipity, mysteriously. Come with me, famous and famished member of the feline family, and you will never know hunger more. Who are you? Rumble the hungry tiger, sitting up and beginning to pant a little from astonishment. Who are you, and what are you doing here? I am Ippity, chief scribe of Irasha the Ruff, and I am here to offer you an important position at the court of Rash.

"'Come to rash!' begged Ipity, glancing uneasily over his shoulder, for he was not anxious to meet any of the Oz celebrities. "'Come, before we are discovered!' "'Rash!' coughed the hungry tiger impatiently. "'Why should I go to that measly little kingdom, when I am perfectly happy and contented here?' "'Because!' bending over and splattering the hungry tiger with hot candle-grease from his thumb, Ippity began whispering earnestly in his ear. At first the hungry tiger's tail lashed and twirled with fury.

But as Ippity continued, he grew calmer, and a queer longing crept into his great yellow eyes. Stand back, fellow, he mumbled crossly. You will singe off my whiskers and kindly remove your pencil from my eye. But you will come? Straightening up, Ipity put his bristly hand. behind him and regarded the hungry tiger expectantly. Not less than one prisoner a day, sometimes as many as ten, he repeated persuasively. Huh, grunted the tiger, half closing his eyes.

Already Ipity's wicked plan was beginning to tempt him. Surely eating criminals would not be wrong, or at least not so very wrong. And these prisoners are dangerous fellows, I suppose? He asked casually, trying to appear careless and unconcerned about the whole queer business. Villains, thieves, and robbers! Rascally fat rogues who are a menace to the country. By eating them, you will be doing rash a real service, Ipity assured him. And where is rash? asked the hungry tiger, waving his tail inquiringly. In the southwestern corner of Ev, answered the scribe with a wave that nearly

put out his thumb. And if you are ready, dear beast, we will start at once. Ev, spluttered the tiger. Why, that's miles away. I was there long ago when Osma, Dorothy, and Belina rescued Princess Evardo from the Gnome King. Too far, yawned the hungry tiger, rolling over on the dewy grass. I'm too tired for such a journey. No trip at all. Ippity touched the hurricane and, in a few words, explained its curious mechanism, following it up with such a tempting description of the rash prisoners that the hungry tiger's appetite got the better of his conscience. "'I'll go,' he agreed gruffly.

"'But only for a few days, remember?' Ippity said nothing but smiled wickedly to himself. Then, stuffing the directions for their return into the hurricane, he sprang upon the hungry tiger's back. Next instant, in a flash of fire and smoke, they had disappeared from the garden. What was that? gasped Dorothy, clutching Osma by the sleeve. Both little girls crouched behind a button bush

had seen the strange flash. Lightning, I guess, shuddered Osma. Let's run back to the castle, Dorothy. A thunderstorm's coming. End of chapter two. Chapter 3 of the Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 3. The Hungry Tiger in Rash

It was nighttime when Ipity and the Hungry Tiger arrived at the Pink Palace. Traveling by Hurry Kane is a hair-raising experience, let me tell you. Showing the breathless beast to a luxurious apartment, the chief scribe hurried off to the pasha, and until long after midnight the two whispered and conferred together. Of course it was about the hungry tiger that they talked. A saucy but serviceable brute, finished Ippity, blowing out his thumb. And he will require watching, Your Highness, for would not a tiger fed on criminals grow dangerous?

Well, lock him up in the prison courtyard, declared I rasha, rubbing his hands gleefully together. Then there'll be no chance of his running away or chewing off our heads. Good work, old Buttertob. I'll raise your wages for this. And clapping his chief scribe on the back, I rasha tumbled into bed and was soon snoring loudly. The hungry tiger did not find falling asleep so easy.

Already he regretted his rash action in coming with Ippity, patting up and down the big bedroom, he began anxiously to reflect upon the duties of his new office. Was it right or wrong to eat the rash criminals? What would Osma think if she knew? The gentle face of the little fairy kept rising reproachfully between him and the thought of the fat and tempting prisoners. I'll stay just a few days, groaned the poor tiger at last, trying to put Osma out of his mind. and only eat the very worst and wickedest ones. I hope they'll not taste too bad.

He yawned, sinking down wearily on the soft pink rug, nor have too many knives and swords in their pockets. Ho-ho-ho-hum! With a great yawn, the tired tiger rolled over and fell into a troubled sleep. A shrill blast of trumpets awakened him next morning, and a few minutes later, if he came to conduct him, to the Pasha. Irishy had craftily arranged to receive the hungry tiger in the prison courtyard,

and surrounded by the rash guardsman, with Fisnpop standing anxiously at his side, he waited for the tiger to appear. The walk from the palace to the prison was not long, but it gave the hungry tiger quite a glimpse of the country and the people. The palace and all of the cottages and stores were of pink stone. Pink trees lined the pink marble walks, and even the sky had a rosy glow. The rashers themselves, hurrying to and fro in their tremendous flapping turbans, oddly quilted robes in soft pink slippers, seemed pleasant enough fellows,

and again the hungry tiger's conscience began to trouble him. But it was too late to turn back now, so he stalked uncomfortably after Ippity. The prison itself looked quite like a wing of the pink palace, and, unsuspectingly, the hungry tiger passed through the great golden gates and into a high-walled court. "'Aha!' exclaimed I rashy, as he advanced majestically to the center of the courtyard. "'So here he is at last the famous and famished tiger of Oz. "'And in uniform, too. "'Is it not splendid that the future jailer of Roche should wear stripes?' chuckled Pasha.

poking Fisandpop playfully in the ribs. Even now, our prisoners will go behind the bars after they're eaten, he whispered hoarsely, fearing Fisandpop might not get the joke. Ippity burst into a loud roar, but the grand visor, after one look at the huge figure of the tiger, began to tremble from top to toe. The hungry tiger himself was not at all pleased with his reception. Are you laughing at me? He growled, lashing his tail, and showing so many teeth, the rash guardsmen took to their pink heels.

No, no, certainly not, grunted I rashy, moving hurriedly toward the gates. I hope you will be most comfortable and happy here. At each word, I rashy took a great leap, followed closely by Ippity and Fizzenpop. By the time he finished his sentence, and before the hungry tiger realized what was happening, all three were on the other side of the gates, and the tiger himself was locked fast in the courtyard. "'Say there, you saucy monster!' puffed irashy, shaking his scepter playfully, and taking fizzin pop by one arm and Ipity by the other, he waddled off, leaving the hungry tiger to reflect upon his folly. First he hurled himself again and again at the golden gates. Then he ran round and round

the prison yard, examining every inch of the high walls. But it was useless. There was not so much as a chink in the marble blocks. Raging with anger at irashy and disgusted with himself for being so easily caught, he crouched down in a gloomy corner of the yard to think. All choice in the matter of eating the rash prisoners was now removed, for, as he sadly reflected, there would probably be nothing else to eat. But eating prisoners, when you are free and happy, and eating prisoners, because there is nothing else, are entirely different matters, and already half the pleasure was gone from the experiment. How was he to escape from this miserable little monarch? Would Dorothy and Betsy miss him? Why, oh, why, had he not listened to the voice of his conscience,

or even had himself stuffed as the wizard suggested? Blinking his eyes, he had his eyes. He was not, mournfully, the hungry tiger began to feel sorry not only for the rash prisoners, but dreadfully sorry for himself, for was he not a prisoner, too? He had plenty of time to feel sorry, for not a soul came near him all day, not even a rash mouse. There was a tub of water in the corner of the yard, but nothing to eat. And as the shadows grew longer and longer, the poor tiger grew hungrier and hungrier. Betsy's party seemed years ago, and when toward evening, shrill screams from the wall announced the approach of Arashy and the guards, he looked up almost hopefully to see whether

they were bringing a prisoner. They were. Proped up between two guards and advancing most unwillingly was a tall, turbaned figure. Here, shouted I. Rashi. leaning far over the wall, Here is your supper. Eat this rogue at once. He has wakened me from my sacred nap with his horrible howling.

I suppose I'll have to, mumbled the hungry tiger, uncomfortably to himself, and growling to keep his courage up and his conscience down, he advanced upon the wall, just as the guardsman dropped the luckless thrasher over. He landed lightly on the balls of his feet. feet, and after one look at the hungry tiger, pulled his turban over his eyes and began to screech with terror. Eat him up! Shut him up.

What's the matter? Have you no teeth? Called irashy, covering his ears. I never dine till ten o'clock, answered the hungry tiger stiffly. He was not going to be bullied by the wretched little sovereign of rash, and I never eat until I am alone. he growled, raising his roar above the wails of the prisoner. So just self, crumbled Irashi.

But secretly, he was disappointed. To watch the hungry tiger devour the prisoner would have been a real treat for the wicked little Pasha. Covering both ears, to drown the poor fellow's doleful yells, he scrambled down the steps on the other side of the wall. We'll return later to see if he is eaten, puffed the little Pasha, turning back toward the castle, and the guardsman, exchanging uneasy glances, clanked after him. As soon as they were alone, the hungry tiger approached the prisoner. "'Would you mind stopping that noise?' he begged earnestly.

"'You're really spoiling my supper.' "'You're a supper?' gulped the rasher, trembling violently. "'Do you expect me to submit to eating without a sound?' "'Well, I wish. that you would, sighed the tiger, hopefully. I never cared for music with my meals. Now don't be frightened, I won't hurt you much. If you were not so tall, I'd swallow you whole.

Oh, groaned the prisoner, falling upon his knees. Have you no heart, no conscience? Are you really cruel enough to devour a poor fellow like me? At each word, the hungry tiger recoiled a bit further. "'But what can I do? I've nothing else to eat, and it is the rash law that you should perish. By the way, what was your crime?' he asked sadly. Now that the time for eating a live man was at hand, he found himself curiously disturbed. "'I'm a singer,' began the prisoner, in a choked and frightened voice.

"'This afternoon, hoping to earn a few rash pence. I stopped beneath the palace balcony and, straightening up and throwing out his chest, the singer burst into tears and song, mingling them so thoroughly, the hungry tiger was soon prying like a baby himself. Without the tears, the song went something like this. Oh, why must lovely roses die?

Oh, why, sniff, sniff, oh why, say why. Oh, why must hay be cut and moan? its first heyday, groan, sniff, groan? And why must grass be trodden down, and trees cut up to build a town? Should little lambs grow into chops, and hang around in butcher shops? No, no, I weep, it is too sad. Sniff, snuffle, sniff, I feel so sad. So do I, roared the hungry tiger.

Stop, stop, I am positively ill. What's that? That was a large bunch of bananas. It came whistling over the wall, followed by three onions, a sausage, a squash pie, and a head of cabbage. They always throw things when I sing, sobbed the singer, drying his eyes on his pink sleeve. Pass me that sausage, gulp the hungry tiger in a faint voice. Aren't you going to eat me?

Stuttered the sad singer. offering the sausage fearfully and jumping back as if he expected the tiger to snap off his arm. Between bites and the sausage took only two, the hungry tiger shook his head. Not now, he answered wearily. I might have swallowed you but that song. Never. A man full of music like that would ruin my digestion. How's the pie? Squashed, said the singer in a depressed whisper.

Try the onions. He held them out, hopefully, but the hungry tiger only shuddered. Eat them yourself, he advised gloomily. You seem to enjoy crying. Reaching for a banana, the hungry tiger ripped off the skin and swallowed it whole. Three more, he tested in the same reckless fashion. Then, licking his whiskers, he regarded the sad singer, reproachfully. You may go now.

He said, gruffling. Your singing is outrageous, but you are neither wicked enough to satisfy my conscience, nor fat enough to satisfy my appetite. Go, go before. But how can I go? moaned the singer, waving despairingly at the high walls. I do not know whether his tears were from grief, gratitude, or onions. He had eaten all three by this time. Well, you can't stay here.

Rumbled the tiger anxiously, For you're supposed to be eaten. I'll hide, muttered the prisoner glaring around wildly. But there was no place in the whole pink yard where he could conceal himself. Round and round tore the worried racher, and round and round after him,

nosed the hungry tiger, and, just as the moon rose up over the pink turrets of the palace, they discovered a loose block in the stone pavings. Scratching frantically with its powerful claws, the hungry tiger managed to dig up the whole block, and, dragging it aside, found a small, damp underground chamber. The sad singer was overjoyed when he peeped into the dark hole, or he had become very nervous in his fear that the tiger would soon decide to eat him. To tell the truth, the hungry tiger was glad himself.

The sad singer did not look very good to eat. "'There,' grunted the hungry tiger, thrusting the singer in and throwing some bananas and a head of cabbage after him. "'Be quiet, and whatever you do, don't sing.' He had just pushed the block back, leaving a small crevice to give the prisoner air, when Irashy and Ippity appeared upon the wall. "'Ah, he has eaten him!' cried I rashly, rapturously, and, clapping his hands like a child, he began to be able to. to address the hungry tiger in most affectionate terms, promising him a dozen prisoners upon

the morrow. But the hungry tiger merely turned his back, and gazed solemnly up at the moon, and, seeing nothing was to be got out of him, I rashy and his wicked scribe tiptoed off to bed, well pleased with the new jailer of rash. The hungry tiger, in spite of a horribly hollow feeling, what is a sausage and four bananas to a tiger, soon fell asleep. And perhaps because he had done nothing to trouble his kind old conscience, he dreamed that he was safely back in the Emerald City with dear little Osma of Oz. End of chapter three. Chapter 4 of the Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain.

Chapter 4 The Vegetable Man of Oz We shall have to leave the poor hungry tiger in the jail yard of rash And take a peek at what is going on in the Emerald City of Oz It will be something exciting, I am sure One never can guess what will happen next in the fairyland of Oz Red ripe tomatoes, red ripe tomatoes Fresh strawberries, fresh strawberries

red ripe tomatoes, fine new potatoes, salad, cress and peas, fresh strawberries. Strawberries, exclaimed Betsy Bobbin in delight, and running to the palace window, looked up and down the garden, to see where the voice was coming from. It was so like old times in the States, it made Betsy homesick.

Why, I never heard a huckster calling around here before, thought Betsy. I believe I'll buy some for breakfast and surprise, Asma. Fastening the last button on her blue frock, she skipped out of the room, down the stairs and into the garden, following the sound of the husky voice. Sometimes it seemed to be quite near, at other times, to come drifting back to her from a great distance,

and before long Betsy was perfectly breathless from darting to and fro. But at last a sharp turn in the path brought her right upon the owner of the voice. It was a vegetable man, sure enough. His small hand cart piled high with fresh greens and rosy strawberries. I'll take a box of berries, please, panted Betsy, and standing on her tiptoes, she pointed to a very large and tempting one. Certainly, miss, said the vegetable man, and handing her the box, stood smiling and bowing in the roadway. But instead of taking it, Betsy gasped and put both hands behind her. "'Now don't be scared,' said the vegetable man softly.

"'I know I'm an odd one, but you'll get used to me. Try to get used to me,' he begged coaxingly. Betsy thought it would take a long time, but he seemed so earnest that she took a long breath and looked at him again. His face was red and smooth as a beat, queer root-like whiskers sprouted raggedly from the bottom, curious celery-leaf hair waved excitedly from the top, while a turnip nose and two tall corn ears gave him a most roguish and inquisitive expression. His body was more like an enormous potato than anything else, and his arms and legs were long, wiry roots of some coarse vegetable fiber. Well, asked the vegetable man anxiously, as Betsy finished her inspection.

Can you stand me at all? "'I—I think you're pretty interesting,' confessed Betsy, who was an exceedingly polite and kind-hearted little girl. "'Am I?' being the stranger, rubbing his twig-like hands together. "'Well, well, I'm glad to hear you say that, "'for it's just what I've been thinking myself. "'But I was not always this way, my dear. "'The vegetable man's blue eyes were the only natural feature about him,

"'and they twinkle so merrily above his turnip nose, that Betsy began to feel quite drawn to him. I was a winky, he confided mysteriously, and sold fresh vegetables to all the royal families in Oz. But each night, when I returned to my farm, there were vegetables left in my cart. So young, so fresh, so fair, I could not let them die. So I ate them, he continued, dreamily,

and bit by bit I turned to the figure you see before you. But I'm quite used to myself now and can still carry on my business. In fact, oh, spinach! The vegetable man interrupted himself crossly. Spinach and rhubarb. Why, what's the matter? asked Betsy in surprise. For he had put down the strawberries and was tucking with all his hands at his left foot, which presently came up so violently he sat down hard in the road.

Would you mind walking on as we converse? Puff the vegetable man, picking up. the box of berries and springing nimbly to his feet. I take root if I stand still, he said, apologetically. It would be awfully inconvenient to become rooted to this spot, and there's no telling what I'd grow into. "'Why don't you wear shoes?' asked Betsy, trotting along beside the cart, and almost forgetting about the strawberries in her extreme interest.

"'I never thought of that,' mused the vegetable man, looking down ruefully at his huge, twisted feet. Do you suppose I could never find any shoes to fit, Miss, Miss, what is your name now? Mine's green, Carter Green, but most folks call me Carter. Mine's Betsy Bobbin. But I think I'd better go back now, or I'll be late for breakfast. Stopping reluctantly, Betsy reached for her box of berries, and as she had brought no money, she slept a small emerald ring into the vegetable man's hand.

at first he refused to take it. But as the little girl insisted and assured him she had dozens more like it, Carter slipped the ring into the leather pouch he wore round his neck. "'I've a stone something like this,' he told her. And, hopping up and down to keep from taking root, he fumbled in the pouch till he brought out a large square ruby. "'Found it in a potato,' continued Carter, as Betsy turned it over and over in her hand.

not in any I raised myself, but in one of a lot I bought from a gypsy. Like it? Betsy nodded emphatically, for not even in Osma's crown itself had she seen a more dazzling jewel. There was a small R cut in one of the flat sides of the gem, and the ruby itself blazed and sparkled in the sunshine and fairly made Betsy blink. But I wonder what the R stands for, she murmured softly. "'Rasberries, I guess,' chuckled the vegetable man, "'putting the ruby back into his pouch. "'Rasberries, rhubarb, or radishes. "'Have a radish, my dear, Miss Betsy?'

"'Oh, no, thank you, and I really must go now.' "'Holding the strawberries carefully, Betsy smiled up into the pleasant face of Mr. Carter Green. "'He was so curious and exciting. "'She hated to leave him. "'But Dorothy and Osma would surely think her lost, "'so with a little skip she took her. turned about. Don't forget the shoes, she reminded him gaily. Goodbye. Good, gracious.

Hold tight, Betsy, hold tight. Salary and cinnamon. What's the matter here? Seizing his cart with one hand and the little girl with the other, the vegetable man teetered backward and forward in the road. And no wonder, it has suddenly ripped itself loose and was rushing along at such a note that trees and fences simply whizzed past. Betsy's hat blew off at the first curve, and strawberries, beets, and bananas flew out in every direction. I was afraid of this, panted the vegetable man. I should have taken the regular road.

Isn't this a regular road? Call Betsy, hanging on to Carter with both hands. What's it doing? "'Winding!' shrieked the vegetable man, "'trying to keep the rest of his vegetables "'from bouncing out of the cart. "'It's a winding road, Betsy. "'Shut your eyes quick!'

"'Betsey was glad enough to obey, "'for the road was going round like a top, "'round and round like a merry-go-round, "'in and out of trees, past lakes and forests, "'till the whole world tilted top sea-turvy. Then, as suddenly as it had started to wind, it stopped. And when Betsy opened her eyes, she was sitting on a small sand-dune, entirely surrounded by cabbages. A short distance away lay the vegetable man still clutching his cart.

While Betsy was still trying to catch her breath, Carter jumped up and shading his eyes looked in all directions. Well, it's gone. He exclaimed ruefully, and he was perfectly right. There was no sign of a road anywhere. It had cruelly gone off and left them in a wilderness of sand and scorched desert grass. Why, I never knew there was a winding road near the Emerald City. Betsy jumped up indignantly.

Where did it come from? Never can tell, sighed the vegetable man, beginning to collect his cabbages. They just come and go, these winding roads of Oz, pass themselves off as regular roads, till we. they catch a few travelers, and you never can tell where they will take you. Well, I don't think much of this place, groaned Betsy, rubbing her elbow, which had been severely skinned along the journey over the winding road. Then let's go some other place, proposed the vegetable man cheerfully.

All the strawberries and bananas had spilled out of the cart, but there were plenty of cabbages and apples left, and he was busily rearranging these all the time he was talking to Betsy. Have a cabbage, he invited pleasantly. Nothing like cabbages for a shipwreck. It was something like a shipwreck, mused Betsy thoughtfully. But I'd rather have an apple, if you don't mind. Do you think we'll ever find the way back to the Emerald City, Mr. Green?

Carter nodded so vigorously, his celery tops waved for moments afterward, and handing Betsy an apple, he pointed off toward the south. It's somewhere in that direction. and if you are ready, we'd better start. Carter looked a little anxiously at his feet to see if they were taking root, but the ground was too dry and sandy. I don't believe Eve and I would grow in this kind of soil, he muttered uneasily. It's hot enough to scorch a fellow.

Wish I had a pair of shoes right now. Come, let's move on. Lifting Betsy on top of the cabbages, the vegetable man grasped the handles of his cart and started on a run across the sandy wasteland. It was not unpleasant, rattling along in the queer little court, and the morning was so brisk and fine, Betsy soon began to enjoy herself. Won't Dorothy and Osma be surprised when I come rolling up to the castle in this? She chuckled merrily to herself.

And won't they stare when I introduce the vegetable man? Why, he's almost as interesting as TikTok and more fun. I wonder if everybody who eats too many vegetables grows celery tops and corn ears. Oh, Mr. Green, Mr. Grue Green! But the court wheels were going around with such a squeak, grind, and rattle that he did not hear her, and Betsy sensibly decided to save this important question for another time. She had just finished her second apple when the vegetable man stopped with a jerk. A rude sign stuck up in the limb of a crooked tree

had caught his attention. Quick sand. And the sign said, Go slow. Oh, spinach! exclaimed the vegetable man, wiping his face on a stray salad leaf. Oh, spinach.

Do you suppose it's very quick sand? asked Betsy, leaning far over the side of the cart. We'll soon find that out. Taking an apple, Carter flung it as far as he could. But horrors. No sooner had it touch.

the sand that it disappeared as suddenly as one drop of dew on a frying-pan. It's a good thing you stopped, shuddered Betsy, or we'd have been swallowed up. Down, corrected Carter gloomily. Looks like pretty quick sand to me, Betsy. Guess we'll have to turn back. Mornfully, Carter began bringing the cart about. The way they had come was so rough and uneven that he hated the thought of traveling over it again. But that won't take us to the Emerald City, objected Betsy, beginning to grow a little anxious.

Maybe we could find a path if we looked carefully enough. Jumping out of the court, Betsy climbed a small noon, but as far as the eye could reach there was nothing but sand. Sand, sand, sand, shimmering dizzily in the sunlight, with not a tree, path, or even a blade of grass to break the monotony. With a sigh. Betsy started down the dune. She had gone about halfway when a big newspaper-wrapped package made her pause. It was covered with a queer writing that she could not understand,

but looked so interesting she hastily shook it open. Imagine her astonishment when a huge pair of sandals tumbled out. They were cut from white leather, had silver buckles, and were almost large enough for a giant. Why, I believe they'd fit cardinal. her, murmured Betsy and pleased surprise. How lucky I found them! Gathering the sandals up in her arms, she ran down to the vegetable man.

He was almost as pleased as she was, for the trip across the dried desert had almost began to curl up his toes, and while she climbed back into the court, he sat down to try them on. They were a bit long, but just the right width, and as he fastened the first one, he noticed two words cut into the buckle. Quick sandals, murmured Carter under his breath. Now, what may that mean? But he was in such a hurry to be off. He did not stop to puzzle it out, and drawing on the other sandal jumped excitedly to his feet. Now I won't be taking root, he cried joyfully. Now a strange look came into his mild blue eyes, and next instant he had sprung into the air like a jack-o'clock.

grab it. Help, screamed the vegetable man. Spinach, tomatoes, turnips, and cress. And while Betsy stared at him in dismay and growing alarm, he sprung twice as high as he had in the first place, seized the handles over cart, and started on a gallop for the quicksand. Oh, stop, oh stop, will the little girl frantically.

Stop, Carter, stop. But he paid not the slightest attention to her. Now they were on the quicksand itself, and Betsy, with a scream, buried her face in the cabbages. But the rattle and bump of the cart continued, and, concluding that she could not be swallowed up yet, she ventured to raise her head. What she saw this time was so much worse that she had not even courage enough to cry, stop. They had crossed the quicksand and were right on the edge of the deadly desert. Betsy well knew the look of this dread wilderness that surrounds the fairyland of Oz, and she knew also that contact with its burning sands meant instant destruction.

She tried to signal to the vegetable man, but the car was bumping and bouncing so terribly. It was all she could do to keep him falling out. Carter himself was running as if his life depended upon it, his salary tops waving wildly, and his corn ears rustling in the wind. With a choke-sob, poor little Betsy shot her eyes and dropped face down among the vegetables. End of Chapter 4. Chapter 5 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain.

Chapter 5. Prisoners in rash. Betsy never had been destroyed in her life, so she was not at all sure how it would feel. A hot, dry wind whistled through her hair, and above the rumble of the wheels she could hear the sharp gasps of Carter Green. Then everything stopped at once, the cart, the burning wind, and the hoarse breathing of the vegetable man. "'He's destroyed,' cried Betsy despairingly. "'And now it's my turn.'

Closing her eyes and trying hard to be brave, Betsy waited for destruction. But nothing at all happened, and after a few terrible moments she sat up and peered timidly around her. On a pink milestone beside the cart sat the vegetable man, staring across the deadly desert. Following his startled gaze, Betsy saw two white objects skipping merrily toward the skyline. It was the sandals. Just as she had made sure of it they disappeared in a final burst of speed and sand. Why, how did they get off? Stammered Betsy, blinking with astonishment.

Took themselves, groaned the vegetable man rubbing his shins. And glad I am that they did. But they brought us safely across the quick sand and deadly desert, and here we are. Yes, agreed Betsy, resignedly. Here we are, but where are we? I didn't know there were quick sandals. Did they really run away with you? Carter nodded and rose stiffly to his feet.

"'I must say, Betsy,' grunted the vegetable man. "'I prefer to run myself and not be carried off by a frisky pair of shoes. After this I'll do my own kicking, my own stopping, and my own starting. Thank you.' And we better start right away, or everything will be spoiled. He looked anxiously into the cart, and jumping out, Betsy began to help him dust and rearrange the vegetables. they had been sadly jolted about by the trip.

As it was impossible to go back across the desert without the quick sandals, they sensibly decided to go forward. There were two roads stretching invitingly ahead, and after a short debate they took the left one. This reminds me a little of the rose kingdom, mused Betsy, as they walked along under the flowering trees. Everything is pink, Carter, have you noticed? Even the clouds.

Why, there's a little bit of a little. pink castle, cried Carter, with an excited wave. Maybe we can sell the king of this country some cabbages, and maybe he can tell us the way back to the Emerald City. Perhaps we'd better try some of the cottages first, suggested Betsy uneasily. In her many adventures, she had discovered that kings were not always safe nor agreeable persons to deal with. No, no, insisted Carter. Kings make the best customers, Betsy. Compliment and flatterers. and sell them the whole cartload, that's my way. Jump in, and we'll run you right up to the castle.

Lifting her galley into the cart, he started briskly down the pink lane, calling, Cabbages, fresh cabbages, at the top of his vegetable voice. The lane led straight into a bright pink city, and Betsy soon grew so interested in its tall, turbaned citizens, and queer cottages and shops that she forgot to worry about the king. She remembered afterward the scared glances of some of the townsmen as they went rattling by, but at the time neither she nor Carter noticed anything amiss, and the vegetable man never stopped till he reached the pink palace itself. As Carter paused under a balcony and began lustily calling his wares,

a window just below was flung up violently, and a turbaned head waggingly over the sill. "'Go away! Go away!' Quavered an old man in a frightened voice. The pasha is in a terrible temper. Go away, go away, rash mortals, I beg of you. But the vegetable man only laughed. Wait till he's seen my cabbages, called Carter, holding one up proudly. Wait, and they did not have long to wait, let me tell you.

For at that precise moment the pasha of rash rushed out upon the balcony, the pasha himself and Ipity, chief scribe of the realm, for Betsy and the vegetable man had, as you have probably guessed already, run straight into that peppery country. Good morning, cried Carter, pleasantly and no wise alarmed, by the fearful frown of the rash ruler. Permit me to observe that your highness is beautiful as a banana and fragrant as an onion, and I am here to serve you. Let me serve your majesty with a fresh, young cauliflower, a bunch of beets, or this handsome cabbage. Carter held up the cabbage coaxingly.

A cabbage, a cabbage! Choked irasha, turning perfectly pink with passion. How dare you offer me a cabbage? So angry that further speech was impossible, he turned furiously to Ipity, waving his arms and sputtering like a motorcycle. Be gone, pernicious peddlers. ordered the chief scribe, pointing his fountain-pin finger sternly at the two travelers. Be gone at once from rash!

Three drops of ink fell upon Betsy's upturned nose, and thoroughly alarmed, the little girl sprang out of the cart and tried to pull Carter away. Hurry up, hurry up, she begged breathlessly. Let's run. But already the vegetable man had tarried too long, and was firmly rooted to the spot. And while he tugged wildly at one foot and then the other, and Betsy jumped up and down with fright and impatience, Ippity leaned over the balcony.

A closer inspection of the vegetable man proved so astonishing to the chief scribe that he nearly fell over the railing. He has corn ears, yelled Ippity shrilly, and a turnip nose. Look, look at the monstrous creature. Thus urged, I rasha himself, peered. over the railing. Perceiving in a moment what had happened to Carter, he began to stamp and shriek with anger. "'How dare you plant your feet in my best flower beds?' howled I rash.

Call out the guards, throw them to the tiger. Salt, vinegar, mustard, pepper. And each shriek, a rash guardsman dashed out of the palace, and before Carter could jerk himself loose, he and Betty were overpowered. "'He can't help taking root,' protested Betsy indignantly. He's a vegetable man. Aha! Now we are getting to the root of the matter, snickered Ippity harshly.

And what right has a vegetable man in rash, young lady? Root him up, throw him to the tiger. Vegetable man, vegetable man indeed! Roared I rasha, stamping one foot and then the other. Tiger! groaned Carter. How perfectly carnivorous! Of course! he added, turning quickly to Vessie.

"'It wouldn't hurt me, for I have no feelings, but it will ruin my business. Spare me!' he cried, waving his arms imploringly up at the balcony. "'And if you cannot spare me, spare my potatoes, my cabbages, and fresh young beets, and spare this lovely little lady from Oz.' "'We'll spare you all right,' weaged our rash of grimly. "'He'd make excellent soup, Your Highness,' suggested Ippity,

glancing down sideways at the vegetable man, but irasha shook his head. No, no, the tiger shall have him, declared Irasha stubbornly. It'll be a nice change for him, Ippity. A little green with his dinner. Irasha was so pleased with his joke that he winked down at Betsy, but the little girl stamped her foot angrily. You'd better let us go, or Osma of Oswald will capture your whole kingdom. We're important people back in Oz.

shouted Betsy defiantly. "'Perhaps the girl is right,' ventured Fizzin-pop, who had stolen anxiously out upon the balcony. "'What harm have they done? Let them go, I beg.' "'No!' With a determined wag of his turban, I rash a signal to the guard and flounced back into the palace. "'Don't cry, Betsy,' begged the vegetable man.

The guards had at last jerked him loose, and were marching the two across the gardens. This tiger will probably eat me first, and I'm so tough he'll choke to death and you can run away. Well, I wish I had never found those quick sandals, wailed the little girl. It was the quick sandals that brought us here, Carter, and I don't believe Osmond knows about this dreadful country at all. Couldn't you please let us go, Mr. Pepper? She begged tearfully of the guard. The tall basher looked down at her doubtfully, but Salt, who had hold of Carter and was just behind,

shook his turban violently. "'If we fail to obey the Pasha, we ourselves will be thrown to this tiger,' sparted salt grimly. "'That's right,' chimed in vinegar and mustard, who were bringing up the procession with the vegetable man's cart. Let's hurry through with it. And turning a deaf ear to the pleas of the prisoners, the rash guardsmen rushed them across the lawn, up the steep steps, and threw them over the prison wall.

Then, without one backward glance, they marched off to the palace. Too breathless to run, Betsy picked herself up and looked fearfully around for the tiger. Ugg! There he was, growling frightfully, for the vegetable cart and all the vegetables had hit him on the head. Splashing right and left and shaking himself so violently that potatoes, beets and apples, flew in every direction. He rose and started toward her. This, after all the other frightful happenings of the morning, was too much, and covering her face, Betsy burst into tears.

But if Betsy was frightened, the hungry tiger was perfectly petrified. "'Betzy! Betsy!' entered the astonished beast. "'How in Oz did you get here?' And rubbing his soft nose against her cheek, he began to dry her tears with his tongue. At the first sound of that familiar voice, Betsy's eyes flew open, and next instant she had both arms round the hungry tiger's neck, hugging him for dear life.

Carter, Carter! called a little girl excitedly. Don't be scared. It's the hungry tiger, the hungry tiger of Oz. She fairly sang out the name in her relief and happiness. The vegetable man had dropped headfirst into the tiger's tub of water. At best, At his cries he made a valiant attempt to rise, but when he saw her actually embracing the tiger, he was so startled and horrified that he fell back with a splash. "'A hungry tiger!' gurgled Carter, bobbing up and down like a cork. "'Hungry tiger! Then so much the worse for us!' End of Chapter 5. Chapter 6 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley-Lompson.

This Libre Vox recording is in the podcast. Public Domain. Chapter 6. The Scarlet Prince Would you mind not using my drinking cup for a bath? Observe the hungry tiger, mildly, as Carter continued to gurgle and splash about in the tub. Laughing with relief, Betsy seized the vegetable man's hands and pulled him out of the water. Don't be scared, whispered Betsy comfortably. This tiger's a friend of mine, and he wouldn't hurt anybody.

Then what's he doing here? asked Carter, accusingly. Is this poor snippy Pasha his friend, too? The hungry tiger winced guiltily at Betsy's kind little speech, but resolved that she should never know he had willingly come to rash. I'm his prisoner, he explained in a hollow voice, and indeed he was terribly hollow by this time. I'm a prisoner like yourselves.

In a husky roar he told of his trip by hurricane to our rash's kingdom, and of his imprisonment in the rash courtyard. So this slight-fingered Ippity brought you here, mused Carter, wonderingly. But why? To eat the rash prisoners, answered the hungry tiger faintly. And have you eaten any? Betsy regarded her old friend anxiously. Well, not yet, admitted the hungry tiger,

rolling his eyes mournfully at the little girl. Not yet. Have a cabbage? Quavered Carter, waving toward the overturned vegetable cart. "'Have a colifar, or a nice bunch of beets?' The hungry tiger was a perfect stranger to him, and Carter could not feel the same confidence in the beast that Betsy seemed to feel. "'More vegetables,' groaned the tiger, sniffing the air sadly.

"'Well, I suppose they are better than nothing. But tell me, Betsy, how in Oz did you ever get here?' And who? He blinked rapidly at the strange figure of Carter Green. Who is this person? With a little chuckle, Betsy introduced the vegetable man, then as quickly as she could, told of their amazing adventures with the winding road and quick sandals, and of Carter's unfortunate experience in the Pasha's garden.

Isn't there some way out of here? asked the little girl, looking around nervously. Oh, what's that? A dismal wail, issuing from the stones beneath her feet, made Betsy leap into the air. It's that singer again, growled the hungry tiger, and, lashing his tail a little, he put his nose close to the crevice in the blocks. Less noise down there, he roared warningly. I always sing when I'm hungry, answered the singer. Oh, I'm so hungry. Hand me a tomato or something, rumbled the hungry tiger.

Quick. The vegetable man made haste to obey, bringing several tomatoes and a dozen apples as well. Looking up at the wall to see that he was not observed, the hungry tiger pushed him hurriedly through the crevice. As the last apple disappeared, a moist song, punctuated with sobs, came sighing upward. oh beautiful tiger i love you so to you si if snuffle my life i owe and i'll devote it to songs of praise and sing sniff sniff to you all my days mercy gasped betsy bobbyn the hungry tiger was so embarrassed by the sad singer's ditty that for a few minutes he couldn't roar a word then as carter and betsy continued to look at him inquiringly. He explained how he had hidden the rash singer instead of eating him. See, cried Betsy, turning proudly to the vegetable man. I told you he wouldn't hurt anyone.

I think you're just the dearest, splendidest tiger I ever. Sh, cautioned the hungry tiger. Here comes another prisoner. Quick now, pretend you're afraid of me. Betsy and the vegetable man had just time to crouch back against the wall when the go-heed. dropped another racher into the courtyard. "'It's a barber!' whispered Betsy, in an interested voice. And she was right. For clutched in one hand, the prisoner had a mug full of suds, and in the other a gleaming razor. "'What frightful luck!' moaned the hungry tiger.

"'If it had only been a bandit or a robber, I could have eaten him without a qualm. "'But a barber, ugh! He smells of bay rum. Stop that racket fellow and let me think. And certainly the poor tiger had plenty to occupy his thoughts, for if things went on in this fashion, the underground cavern would soon be full, and then what would happen?

And however was he to get little Betsy bobbin safely back to Oz? Paying no attention to the terrified squeals of the barber, the hungry tiger began to pace restlessly up and down the courtyard, till Betsy, feeling sorry for the frightened little man, ran out and assured him he was in no danger of being eaten. It was a long time before the barber stopped shivering, but at last, thoroughly convinced, he hurried impetuously after the tiger. Let me trim your beautiful whiskers, he begged tremulously.

Trim mine, invited Carter, as the hungry tiger impatiently shook his head. The vegetable man's root-like beard had sprouted a fervoir. foot since morning. So, trembling with relief and gratitude, the rash barber stood upon the edge of the tub and trimmed it most skillfully, trying at the same time to bring Carter's celery top hair into some kind of order. When the vegetable man, in answer to the barber's questions, had told a bit about himself in Betsy, the barber related how he had accidentally cut the cheek of our rashy while shaving him. Just a tiny scratch? explained the the barber. And for that I was condemned to die.

But why do you have such a bad king? exclaimed Betsy impatiently. Why don't you put him out and elect another? We tried, sighed the barber dolefully. But Irishy has the army in his power, and with Ippity's help is outwitted us every time. Is Ippity the fellow with a fountain-pin finger? asked Betsy, curiously. The barber nodded. He has a handful of odd fingers, he continued despondently. A pencil, a sealing-wax finger, and eraser, a candle-thumb, and a pen-knife besides.

Oh, he's a handy rogue for a fellow like irasci. But the real ruler of rash is Asha, the brother of the present Pasha. Weary of the cares of state he returned to an unknown country to study radio, leaving his small son and fissinpop to govern the kingdom no sooner had he gone than irasci seized the throne and hid the little prince away until we find the lost prince nothing can be done finished the rash barber sorrowfully well i'll tell osma on him declared betsy determinedly just as soon as i get back to the emerald city do you think we ever will get back the hungry tiger paused in his restless walk and regarded the little group mournfully. I've been here two days, and there's not a chink anywhere in this wall. Let's all look, proposed Betsy.

Jumping up and encouraged by her cheerfulness, the four prisoners made a careful tour of the pink courtyard. But after several hours had been spent in an unsuccessful search, even Betsy grew downhearted. Shall we have something to eat? asked the little girl as they all dropped down wearily beside the hungry tiger's water tub. It's a good thing they threw that cart over. At least we won't starve. Insisting that this was his part of the performance, Carter passed round tomatoes and apples

till everyone felt refreshed. Even the hungry tiger, after swallowing several dozen of each, admitted that he felt a little less hollow. Make the most of the daytime, advised the hungry tiger gloomily. for tonight you're supposed to be eaten, and we'll have to hide down below till we find some way out of rash. It was not a pleasant prospect, and though Carter did what he could to keep things cheerful, Betsy and the barber grew quieter and quieter as the afternoon advanced. No more prisoners were flung over the wall, and as the first stars twinkled out, the three slipped silently into the underground cave.

The hungry tiger had just pushed the pink paving stone back when Irashy and Ipity, preceded by the pink guards bearing torches, stepped out upon the wall. Good evening, furious feline, called Ipity shrilly. How do you do, and how do you do it? He's eaten the entire lot, he explained in a breathless whisper to Irashy. We brought you some dessert, announced the Pasha, who seemed to be in a high good humor. A tempting little waif. Throw the little waif over, he called playfully to the guards. The hungry tiger had immediately turned his back upon these rash rascals, but as a crumpled little bundle

came tumbling down beside him, he swung around. What he saw made him roar so ferociously that irashy, Ippany, and the pink guards covered their ears and fled from the wall. What's he saying? The Pasha, sinking down on a pink settee and clapping his fat hands to his quivering middle. "'He's talking to Tiger, Your Highness,' thuddered Ippity, with a slight shudder. "'And Tiger is a language I never studied. But never mind. From now on we are the soul, rulers of rash.' Thumping the Pasha up on the back, Ipity led him into the throne room.

As soon as they had gone, the hungry tiger stopped roaring and gently approached the small prisoner. Don't cry, begged the hungry tiger miserably. It was dreadful to have everyone afraid of him, especially a helpless little boy. Why, he's no older than Betsy, thought the hungry tiger, bristling with anger in Irish's wickedness. If you stop crying, I'll take you for a ride all round the courtyard, he promised breathlessly. This offer so astonished the little fellow that he'd

took his arm from before his face and blinked through his tears at the huge beast. There was no mistaken the kindly expression in the hungry tiger's eyes. And with a gasp of relief he jumped up and was about to mount the giant beast, when a thin figure leapt from the top of the wall and came hurtling down between them. "'Spare him, cruel monster!' weezed the newcomer hoarsely. "'I am old and thin, but eat me instead.' placing himself between the hungry tiger and the boy, the old rasher extended his arms pleadingly. It was Fizzin'pop, and as the hungry tiger drew back with embarrassment at surprise,

the grand vizier of rash flung himself at his feet. It's the scarlet prince, panted Fisnpop, beating his head up and down upon the stones. Prince Everid of rash. "'Sh!' warned the hungry tiger, looking about uneasily. Then, as Fisandpop continued his entreaties, he held up his paw for silence. "'You're a nice old bone,' sighed the hungry tiger. "'But even so I have no desire to eat you. It's my conscience,' he continued heavily.

"'I've lived among people too long to hold a position like this.' "'The Grand Vizier could scarcely believe his ears.' But the other prisoners, he demanded wildly. You have eaten them? The hungry tiger, with a tired shake of his head, waved toward the loosened paving stone. The two corn ears of the vegetable man were sticking up through the crevice, and he was carefully repeating to those below everything as it happened. How can I ever thank you? exclaimed Fisandpop prostrating himself again at the hungry tiger's feet.

Don't thank me, help me, begged the hungry tiger uncomfortably. And tell me more about this little chep. Perhaps together we can plan a way to escape. Fiss and Pop's brave action in offering himself in place of the little prince made the hungry tiger feel terribly ashamed. More and more he was coming to realize that he would never be able to devour a live man. It was a long story, and sitting down beside the watertub, Prince Everett in his lap, the Grand Vizier told how Irasha had stolen the throne of the kingdom

and made himself Pasha of Rash. There are three magic rubies to protect the rightful rulers of rash, explained Fis and Pop in a low voice. One protects him from all danger by water, one protects him from all injury in the air, and the other from all harm on the earth or under the earth. The rubies are embedded among other gems in the rash scepter. No sooner had Everett's father retired than Irrasha began to scheme and plan to make himself king. Knowing he could do nothing while the rash rubies were in our possession, he managed with Ipidese help to steal the royal scepter. Next he had the little prince seized and hidden away. After certain, he had the little prince seized and hidden away. After searching in vain for many months, I chanced yesterday into a rash cobbler's shop,

and found Everett playing with the cobbler's children. Helping to get him safely out of the country, I hurried him back to the palace. But Arashy soon discovered him. And the rest, Fisun pop groaned heavily. The rest, you know. But what became of the rubies? asked the hungry tiger. as Fisandpop continued to stroke the head of the little prince.

So much it happened in the last few hours that even Fisandpop's story could not keep the prince awake. One he hurled from the highest turret of the palace. Another he flung into the rash river, and the last he buried somewhere in the garden, answered the grand vizier, sadly. Until we recover the three magic rubies, the prince's very life is in danger, and rash must remain under the wicked rule of irashi the rough.

Every evening, when I am unobserved, I have searched most diligently for these precious gems, but without any success. Well, irasci won't rule long if I can find a way out of here, growl the hungry tiger. Think, man, is there no way out? Fissin'pop shook his head dejectedly, and then, as it was growing late, they thought it best to conceal the little prince with the rest of the prisoners. "'Batsy!' called the hungry tiger softly. There was no answer, and, pulling aside the pink paving-block, he peered down into the cavern.

"'They must be asleep,' muttered the hungry tiger in surprise. "'Here, Mr. Fisand-pop, you keep watch while I lower the boy.' It was too dark to see, and after the hungry, Tiger had eased the ragged little prince into the cave, he decided to step in himself and see how everything was going, so he slipped gently down into the darkness. For nearly ten minutes, Vizent Pop kept an anxious eye upon the wall. Then, feeling he had given the hungry tiger ample time to replace the block, he turned round. There was no one in the courtyard. Merciful mustard, gasped the grand vizier, dashing over to the opening.

Hanging down by his heels, he glared into the damp little chamber. But it was perfectly empty. No tiger, no prince, no barber, no anything. Falling in headfirst, Fiss and Pop began feeling all over the walls and floors. Then, as his search yielded nothing, he raised his voice in a long, dismal wail. What's wrong? Three rash guards appeared sleepily on the wall, and presently irashy himself, wrapped in a pink bathrobe, rushed out to see what was the matter.

The tiger! gulped Fisandpop wildly. The hungry tiger has escaped. Fisnpop was already in great disfavor owing to his discovery of the lost prince, and realizing instantly that it would never do to tell Irashi the whole truth, he resolved to save himself for his country and ever read by a clever story. So, while I rashly listened breathlessly from the wall, he told how he had come out to observe the great creature from Oz, how he had seen him prying up a paving stone, and had sprung into the courtyard to prevent him from escaping. But I was too late, lamented Fisandpop, shaking his head mournfully.

Oh, the hungry tiger has disappeared by some miracle of magic. And such a useful beast sniffed I rashy. But you shall be rewarded Fissin Pop for this brave action. And ordering the guards to let down ropes to the Grand Vizier, the pasha of Rash went regretfully back to bed. Oh, well, he yawned as he dropped into a dose. He's eaten that pest of a prince, and that is something. End of chapter six.

Chapter 7 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain Chapter 7 Escape from Rash After the Hungry Tiger had pushed back the pink block Betsy and her two companions settled themselves as comfortably as they could in the little cavern It was too dark to see, but they could hear the sad singer crooning drearily to himself

Carter immediately ran his fingers along the floor. Fortunately, it was stone. No danger of taking root here, he whispered in a relieved voice to Betsy. Hello, what's that racket? That racket, as we already know, was Irishy and the Pink Guardsman, and as the noise continued, the vegetable man, who was tallest, stuck his ears through the crevice between the blocks. What Carter heard through his corn ears was simply amazing,

and as he immediately repeated it to the little company below, they soon forgot their discomfort in their interest. When Fis and Pop explained who the last prisoner was, the barber threw his shaving mug joyfully into the air and began to prance wildly up and down upon the shins of the sad singer. Three cheers for the scarlet prince, roared the barber, thumping the wall with his razor. Three cheers for Prince Everett of rash. Be quiet, begged Best.

Patsy anxiously, they'll hear you. Oh, hush! But the barber refused to be restrained, and continued to thump enthusiastically upon the wall. Withdrawing his ears from the crevice, Carter groped about in the dark in an effort to stop the reckless fellow. But at the third snatch, the whole side of the cavern fell away and pitched the entire company into a dark, damp tunnel. Carter managed to slip his arm around Betsy Bobbins as he fell past her, and they could hear the smutter and groaned of the rash barber and the singer far below. Anyway, gasped Betsy, as they skidded down the slippery passageway together. Anyway, we're out of rash.

Is this anyway? groaned the vegetable man, trying to keep himself and Betsy right side up. Well, if this is anyway, I prefer. some other way. Phew! Betsy was about to reply when the floor of the tunnel dropped out, and they fell straight downward. Then, striking a rubbery incline,

shot straight upward. The rest of the trip was more like a rush through a scenic highway tunnel than anything Betsy ever had experienced. Up slides, downslides, downslides, round loops, bends and curves, swooped the rash prisoners till there was no breath left in any one of them.

and when after half an hour of it they shot out into the open they lay for nearly five minutes perfectly motionless where they had fallen then the rash singer sat up and in a strangled voice quavered we're down and out of rash and everything has gone to smash sniff sniff a trip like this upsets me but how we got here is what gets me probably he would have continued his song indefinitely but at that minute all of Carter's vegetables, which had slid more slowly down the tunnel, sprayed out of the opening, and simply overwhelmed him. Betty had not breath enough to laugh, but Carter, not being so easily winded, sprang up and ran to the singer's assistance. They always throw things when I sing, sobbed the poor fellow, as Carter helped him to his feet, and a little defiantly he repeated his last stanza.

"'Sniff, sniff, a trip like this up. upsets me, but how we got here is what gets me." "'It gets me, too,' mumbled the barber, rolling over and looking around for his razor. "'One minute, there we are, and next minute, there we ain't. Strikes me, this ground is pretty soft. Why, it's down,' he puffed, blowing a ball of fuzz from the end of his nose. Betsy, pulling up a handful of what she's supposed to be grass, found her fingers full of feathers, for they had landed in the very center of a field of down.

Well, this probably saved us from breaking our heads. But how did it all happen? repeated the barber, looking over at Carter in perfect bewilderment. It was your fault, answered the vegetable man gravely. You must have touched some secret spring when you pounded on the wall. I don't know whether to thank you or not, sighed Carter, rubbing his thin ankles doubtfully. I hope you didn't bark your hands. shins on the tunnel, murmured the barber solicitously.

No, answered Carter, frankly. I didn't bark my shins, for they are bark already, but you've ruined my business. He looked ruefully at his scattered vegetables. They had not stood the trip at all well, and were lying about in squashed heaps. Never mind, buddy, the barber clapped Carter comfortably on the back. Maybe you can pick up some more down here. But where is here, I wonder? "'Well, any place is better than rash,' exclaimed Betsy, looking about curiously.

"'The last time I fell through a tunnel I went clear to the other side of the world. "'Do you suppose this is the other side of the world? "'Look, there's the moon.' "'It's queer,' whispered the sad singer in a frightened voice. "'And it's green,' he added dismally. "'The moon, the moon, the moon is there, but never trust the moon. that square. It's shining squarely on our heads. We'll all be slaughtered in our beds.' "'You don't know what you're singing about,' declared the barber, gruffly.

"'A square moon is better than no moon, and there aren't any beds that I can see. But there's a town over yonder. Look. Not far away, shadowy and mysterious in the green light of the square moon, rose to towers and spires of a strange city. Well, I wish the hundred, Hungry Tiger were here, cried Betsy Bobbin, and the little prince, I wonder if the cave wall closed up after it slid us down here. Whiz, whir, bang! As if in answer to Betsy's question, the two came sailing out of the tunnel, circled through the air, and landed close beside Betsy. And while the hungry tiger was still puffing and panting with indignation and surprise, the little girl flung her arms about his neck and told him the whole story of their

flight through the mysterious passageway. Slowly the big beast got his breath back, and, as he blew the downy feathers from his nose, the rash barber with great ceremony, introduced the little prince to Betsy Bobbin. In the green moonlight she saw a pleasant, freckled-faced little boy of about her own age. His nose turned up, his collar turned down, and in spite of his ragged clothes, he had a most kingly bearing. Betsy knew it once that they would be friends. Prince Everett himself liked the little girl immediately,

and after they had compared notes on their terrible fall, he begged her to tell him more about the vegetable man. "'Is he really real?' asked the little prince, scarcely taking his eyes from Carter's curious figure. Betsy nodded and told him all about her meeting with the vegetable man, her trip across the deadly desert, and of their arrival in rash. She was going on to tell him a little about Osma and the Emerald City, but the sad singer had started such a sleepy song of welcome to honor the little prince

that she could not keep her eyes open. Everett, too, soon began to nod, and, as the hungry tiger had wisely determined not to investigate the strange city till morning, they all curled up in the fields of noun, and were soon fast as, sleep. All but Carter Green. Since turning to a vegetable, he did not require rest, and all night long he paced up and down the white feathery field, thinking his own queer thoughts, and keeping a loving watch over his new and interesting friends. End of Chapter 7. Chapter 8 of The Hungry Tiger by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre

Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 8. In Downtown When Betsy awakened next morning, she saw the hungry tiger and Carter, staring curiously at a huge sign in the corner of the field. Down, ordered the sign sternly. No uppers allowed. That means us, I suppose, said Carter, scratching his corn ear reflectively. I wonder what kind of people live down here. Geese, spluttered the hungry tiger, looking cross-eyed at a fluff of feathers that had lighted it on the end of his nose. Wish I could catch a couple. I am so hungry. So am I, agreed Betsy.

And I don't see a thing to eat, do you? Nothing but sunbeams, mused Carter. And they'd make a pretty light breakfast. But we ought to be glad there's a sun so far underground. Why shouldn't there be? Snap the hungry, tiger. Being hungry made him a bit irritable. Doesn't the sun go down every day?

day? Betsy and Carter exchanged startled glances, for neither of them had thought of this, and the little girl, gazing dreamily across the soft fields, began to wonder what exciting adventures and strange experiences lay ahead of them. But the hungry tiger was more interested in food. Maybe there'll be something to eat in the city, he weased in a weak voice. Let's waken the others. Prince Everd and the sad singer were already up. And after a few shakes and thumbs on the back, the rash barber lifted his head. "'What's up?' he inquired sleepily. "'Nothing,' giggled Betsy.

"'Don't you remember? We all fell down.' "'Don't remember a thing since I hit the feathers,' yawned the barber, plucking a tuft of down from his beard. "'Well, this is down,' laughed Betsy, pointing to the sign. "'And time to get up,' added the hungry tiger, gruffily. We're going off to that city over there to see if we can find some breakfast. Jump on my back, Betsy, and you two. The hungry tiger nodded at the ragged little prince. What do they call you?

He asked kindly. The scarlet prince, the son of Asha, Prince Everett Arash, the Pasha, drawn the sad singer with a deep salaam toward the youthful ruler. All that, gulped the hungry tiger, putting back his ears. Oh, call me ready. exclaimed the little boy, hopping up behind Betsy. I haven't been Prince for a year, you know, and that's what Fizzin'pop call me even when I was.

Well, I wish Fis and Pop were here now, sighed the hungry tiger regretfully. Too bad the trap-door closed before he found it. The tiger had a great admiration for the Grand Vizier of Rash, and determined to do all in his power to restore ready to his throne. Tell us more about the magic rubies, begged Betsy, as the tiger started briskly across the fields of Down. Yes, do, urged the vegetable man. We dropped out right in the middle of the story, and most of it was knocked out of my head.

Porter was trudging along beside the hungry tiger, but the barber and the singer, thinking it presumptuous to walk so close to the prince, had dropped respectfully behind. So while the strange little procession moved toward the unknown city, Prince Everett told again how Irashy had stolen the precious rubies and made himself Pasha of rash. Well, I don't see how you'll ever find them, murmured Betsy, when he had finished the story and told a little of his life with the cobbler's children. Nothing's impossible, Carter reminded her galey.

Look at me! Betsy and the little prince, both had to grin. For the vegetable man did look impossible, and yet there he was. But how would you know the rubies if you did find them? asked Betsy after a little pause. There is an R cut in each one, explained ready gravely, and they are square. Or, shouted Carter, snatching out a stalk of his celery. Ar? Parships and peonies, radishes and rhubarb, seizing the leather pouch from about

his neck. The vegetable man dumped its whole contents into Betsy's lap. Stop, begged Carter, grasping the hungry tiger by the tail. Stop, I think I've discovered something. To eat? Questioned the hungry tiger, looking round eagerly. Without answering, Carter picked up the ruby he had already showed to Betsy Bobbin. Square, puffed Carter triumphantly, and it has an R cut on the side. Why, it's one of the rash rubies, screamed the prince, nearly tumbling off the tiger. Where did you find that?

Passing the beautiful gym from one to the other, Carter explained how he had found it in a potato he had bought from a gypsy. But which ruby is it? panted the barber, pressing forward. It might be the one I rashly flung from the castle window, or it might be the one he buried in the garden. Let me give your highness a tiny cut with my... razor, he suggested brightly. Then if it does not hurt, we'll know that it is the ruby that protects you from danger on the earth or under the earth. Everett looked a little doubtful, and the hungry tiger shook his head impatiently.

Too risky, growled the tiger. Let his highness climb yonder tree, proposed the singer, waving toward a feather fan tree that stood not far away. Then let him fall out. and if he breaks no bones we will know it is the ruby that protects him from danger in the air. Don't you do it, cried Betsy indignantly. It might be the ruby that protects you from danger in the water, then where you'd be. Let ready keep his ruby till danger threatens, advised the hungry tiger sternly.

I'm not going to have him sliced and broken if I can help it. And he flashed his yellow eyes so threateningly that the barber and singer fell back in infusion. But wasn't it lucky we met Carter? exclaimed Betsy, as the vegetable man slipped the ruby into Everett's pocket. And if the king of Down lives in this city and can just show us the way up, maybe we can find the other rubies and—' "'Something to eat!' roared the hungry tiger, breaking into a quick step.

"'When I'm the Pasha, you shall have anything you wish,' promised the little prince, smiling sideways at Carter Green. You can be keeper of kites and marbles. If you want, Betsy shall be queen, and the hungry tiger all the rest of the nobility. Thanks, muttered the hungry tiger, grinning behind his whiskers. He knew that if he ever reached Oz in safety, nothing could tempt him away from the Emerald City again, not even his terrible appetite. But what do the three hours stand for? asked Carter.

He had been turning the matter over in his mind for some time. Reading, writing, and Rithbertic, guessed Bessie Bobbin. Rightful ruler of rash, corrected Reddy, with a cheerful bounce. Now that one of the magic rubies was in his possession, anything seemed possible. Hurry up, he called over his shoulder to the rash barber and singer. We're almost there. And they almost were. For beyond a thin fringe of feather brush rose the high buildings and towers of the city they had seen in the moonlight.

The trip across the fields of Down had been rather tiresome. The feet of the travellers sank at each step into the soft feathers, so that even the hungry tiger was panting a little when they reached the city itself. Over the gates creaking backward and forward in the brisk morning breeze was a large silver sign. Downtown, read Betsy, squinting a little in the bright sunshine. Why, it looks just like downtown at home, Carter. "'Home in Oz?' queried the vegetable man, pressing his nose against the bars. "'No, in Oklahoma,' left Betsy hastily.

"'But let's go in. I see stores and hotels and everything.' "'Hotels!' culp the hungry tiger, pricking up his ears. "'Hotels? Mug!' And before Betsy or anyone else could stop him, he had hurled himself headlong at the gates of downtown. With the creek and bang they burst open, and the whole rash company fell through. Food, roared the hungry tiger, charging at full speed down the main street. Give us food! At the tiger's roars, such citizens as were in the streets, stopped in horror and astonishment.

Then right and left like startled hairs, they darted, huddling at the doorway, scurrying into side alleys, tumbling over one another in their frenzy to get away. In fact, they were as amazed and terrified to see a tiger in their downtown as we would be to see one in ours. And when they glimpsed Carter Green, they ran faster than ever. Stop! shouted Betsy, flinging both arms around the tiger's neck to keep them falling off. You're scaring everyone away! Stop! Here's a restaurant. But the hungry tiger had already seen the tempting,

display of pies and roast turkey in the window, turning so sharply that the prince of rash tumbled off backward. He rushed through the swinging doors, and next minute they had the establishment to themselves. One look at the hungry tiger had been enough for the early morning customers. Grabbing their hats, and without waiting for their change, they pelted out the rear door of the shop, followed by three waiters and the screaming proprietor. Oh well, sighed, Bessie, helping herself capably to a spring chicken that was turning slowly on a spit. If they won't stay or wait on us, we'll just help ourselves. What fun, chuckled Reddy, burying his nose in a cherry tart,

while the barber and sad singer divided a huge sausage between them. The vegetable man, not requiring food, busied himself with counting the oranges and apples in the window, and wondering wistfully whether he could not find a cart or something and stir-up some trade. But it was the hungry tiger who enjoyed himself most of all. At one side of the room a dozen roasts were waiting their turn at the ovens. These, the famished tiger, snapped up in so many bites. After his long, fast, and rash, they tasted perfectly delicious, and, while Reddy looked at him in astonishment and admiration, he swallowed three roast turkeys, a bowl of potato salad, and a tray full of biscuits.

He was just starting on a huge ham when a commotion in the doorway made them all spin around. It was the proprietor, and with him were twenty tall officers. They had a great net, and as the hungry tiger gave a convulsive swallow, they flung it over him and dragged the huge beast, the singer, the barber, Betsy, the vegetable man, and the little prince of rash out into the street. Robbers! screamed the proprietor, savagely, as they were hustled away. Wait till Dad hears of this.

Why don't you bite them? Well, Betsy, trying to wriggle out of the grasp of the officer who had her by the arm. Too full, mumbled the hungry tiger in a stuffy voice. Couldn't eat another bite. Not even a policeman. But it was worth it, and who's afraid of Dad? We've been arrested before and gotten away. We'll get off somehow.

trust me. Maybe the ruby will help, said the little prince, squirming about, so he could see Betsy. Carter, on the other side, gave her such an encouraging wink that the little girl stopped worrying and began to look around with real interest. Downtown, as Betsy had said in the first place, was quite like other downtowns, except that there were no motors nor wagons, and the men who crowded the streets were gaily costumed in green and yellow bills. Four of the down officers had hold of the net entangling the hungry tiger, one officer had hold of each of the others, and the rest tramped importantly ahead

of the procession. "'Who's dad?' asked Betsy, as they were propelled through the swinging doors of a large white bank. "'The king,' answered the officer haughtily. "'Is he a kind king?' sniffled the sad singer, nervously. What kind of a king is Dad? Will he make us happy or make us sad? You'll soon see, grunted the officer, pushing him roughly into an elevator. The others were thrust as unceremoniously after him. The car shot upward, and the next minute they were all marched out up on the roof. In a swivel chair on top of the bank sat Dad. He was reading a paper, and beside him, on a high stool sat the most curious lady Betsy had ever seen. The Majesty's the king and queen of downtown, boomed the officer, who had hold of Betsy

Bobbin. Robbers, Your Highness, he announced with a low bow. A rash. End of Chapter 8. Chapter 9 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Lumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 9 The Endus Tree

At the officer's ringing words, King Dad lowered his paper, and as he got a good look at the hungry tiger, his chair fell forward with a crash. A tiger, Nance, stuttered Dad, rolling his eyes wildly at the queen. But it's tied, answer the queen of downtown calmly.

What are the charges, officer? $99.68. answered the officer hoarsely, and, leaning over, he handed Dad a long slip of paper. But we only wanted the little breakfast, began Betsy, tremulously, and a little breakfast, weezed Dad, and putting on his specks started to read off the list. Twelve roasts, four turkeys, one spring chicken, three dozen tarts, fourteen donuts, one ham, and twenty-fourts of potatoes, six. solid one six-pound sausage.

Monstrous, muttered the queen, tapping her foot indignantly on the floor. They shall pay well for this. Well, that's a mere bite for a fellow like me, rumble the hungry tiger impatiently, and I ate most of it. Who are you? demanded Dad, holding on to the arms of his chair and blinking nervously at the great beast. I am the hungry tiger of Oz, and these are my friends. We are on our way to the Emerald City.

This little girl is Betsy Bobbin, and allow me to present the vegetable man and the pasha of Your tail drags, yawned her majesty, fanning herself with her handkerchief. Cut it short, time is money down here, and the thing for you to do is to pay up and settle down. How clearly you put things, murmured Dad, looking affectionately at his queen. Betsy had been staring at her highness in perfect astonishment, for she was made entirely of money. Her face and hair were of purest gold, her hands and feet of silver, and her dress was made from hundreds of yellow bills that crinkled crisply when she moved. Yet, with all her glitter and brilliance, she seemed to Betsy the hardest and most disagreeable being she had ever met. Dad himself looked kind and careworn, resembling vaguely many of the daddies Betsy had known in the United States.

If he had just decided things for himself and not depended so much upon the queen, Betsy would have liked him better. Well, are you ready to pay up? asked Dad, looking from one to the other of the travelers. $99.68, please. But we haven't any money, explained Betsy breathlessly. We started off in such a... hurry and you should not have come downtown if you had no money, muttered Dad reprovingly. "'How dare you be without money?' cried the queen, springing up in a perfect fury. "'How dare you come downtown without money?'

"'Now don't get frenzied, finance,' begged Dad, patting her anxiously on the hand. "'They can easily make some money, you know.' His words seem to soothe the queen. "'That's so,' she mused thoughtfully. Anybody can make money downtown if they just try hard enough. Almost pleasantly she turned to Betsy. You, my child, Perth the Queen, resuming her seat. You may start as a cash girl.

I myself was a cash girl once. She went on dreamily. And now look at me. Fine, Nance, Queen of downtown. I'm simply made of money. Betsy looked and shuddered a little as she did so. She was about to tell the queen that she had no desire to be a cash girl when finance haughtily held up her hand for silence.

The lad shall be an office boy. She decided imperiously. Who did you say he was? A prince, growled the hungry tiger. A dry goods store will be the best place for him, murmured Dad. What can you two do? he demanded, looking over his specs at the barber and sad singer of rash. "'Anything! Anything!' whined the frightened prisoners, bumping their heads together in their

anxiety to please. "'Pooh!' sniffed Dad scornfully. "'That means nothing whatsoever. "'Shampo?' suggested the barber, hopefully. "'Let me give your highness a little shave and haircut.' "'Are you a barber?' asked Dad, looking at the rashier with more interest. "'If you're a barber, you can stay and stay and... welcome. There's always room for another barber, downtown.

Thank you, thank you. If your majesty will permit, the barber bowed apologetically to the Prince of Rash. I will remain here. I have always wanted to make money, he acknowledged frankly. Me too, gulped the sad singer eagerly. I've sung until I'm hoarse in rash and never earned a cent in cash. He has a voice like a horse, whispered Dad in a loud aside. to the queen. He sings like a jackass, agreed her majesty readily, but let him stay. Any kind of a noise goes downtown. Now as to these others, she rolled her golden eyes in perplexity and disapproval

at the vegetable man and the hungry tiger. Then evidently giving them up, cried in a loud voice. The audience is over and the prisoners are discharged. Let them make some money, pay up, and settle down. Well, good-bye, smile, Dad, picking up his paper with a sigh of relief. If you don't like the positions we have chosen for you, go down to the square and choose some others. Take them to the public square, he ordered waving at the officers. So much to Betsy's and the little prince's amusement, they were all hurried into the elevator, out of the bank, and marched along the streets of the city. A curious sign on the first corner puzzled Betsy very much. Down, "'Town belongs to the daddies,' said the sign severely.

"'No aunts, mothers, or sisters allowed.' "'Why, anybody can go downtown at home!' exclaimed the little girl in surprise. "'I noticed there were no ladies about,' observed Carter in an amused voice. "'The daddies have it all their own way here.' As they passed along, Betsy looked curiously in the windows of the shops and offices, and saw that everywhere the dads were making money. some were making money out of leather some were making money out of oil and some were even making money out of old papers and rags it looked quite simple but there must be some trick to it she whispered hurriedly to the prince of rash i hope we won't have to stay here long i won't be a cash girl prince everard nodded emphatically for he had no intention of becoming an office boy just then they came to the public square and were marched solemnly through the gates

"'Pick your tools and get started,' ordered the first officer, gruffly, and, grumbling a little among themselves, because the prisoners had got off so easily, the twenty tall downsmen tramped noisily back to their station. As soon as they had gone, the barber, with his razor, released the hungry tiger from the net. "'I wonder what they meant about tools,' murmured Betsy, staring all around her. "'Why, what an enormous tree!' It stood in the center of the square, spreading out in every direction, its branches weighted down with a most curious collection of objects.

There was a small notice tacked to the trunk, and Everid and Betsy Bobbin hurried over to investigate. Industry, read the sign, Pick your trade, business, or profession here. Well, I've often heard of big industries, gasped Carter Green, squinting up through the branches. but I never knew they looked like this. If we are to stay downtown, I suppose we had better pick our business at once. Stay if you want to,

rumble the hungry tiger impatiently. My business is to see that Betsy Bobbin gets safely back to Oz and to restore ready to his throne. I, for my part, am going to leave as soon as I can find an exit. Maybe they won't let us, faltered Betsy, looking uneasily over her shoulder.

but the daddies were not paying the slightest attention to the little group in the square, and greatly relieved they turned back to the industry. Some of these things might prove useful, even if we did not remain here, muttered Carter. Why, there's a razor! shouted the rash barber in delight, and springing into the air he snapped it off the lower branch and began to finger it lovingly. I'll take that harp, if I could just reach it, sighed the sad sad, singer, looking wistfully aloft. I'll pick it for you, offered Prince Everett obligingly, and, swinging up into the tree, he broke

the harp from its stem and dropped it into the singer's arms. See anything you want, Betsy? Call the little prince, and pushing aside a cluster of paintbrushes, he peered down at her expectantly. But with so many things to choose from, it was hard to decide. There were thimbles and shears, bottles of ink, hammers, saws, buckets, and, and, and and mops, brooms and hose, music rolls, miners' caps, rolling pens, cookbooks, compasses, and ship models, everything, in fact, that a body would need to work with.

While Reddy was waiting for Betsy to make up her mind, his curiosity carried him higher and higher into the branches. Carter, too, walked round and round the base of the tree, shaking his head and exclaiming from time to time with surprise and astonishment. but the hungry tiger had small use for a tree that produced nothing to eat, nor was he interested in money or making money. So while the others examined the marvelous tree, he began looking for a way out, and presently was rewarded, for in the far corner of the square were steps leading down into what seemed to be a tunnel.

Stretching his neck cautiously about the doorway, the hungry tiger spied some directions. "'Take the subway here for uptown,' set a sign. "'Here, here, I found a way out,' roared the hungry tiger joyfully. "'What kind of a way?' cried Carter, stumbling over the wheelbarrow he had just plucked from the industry. "'A subway!' puffed the tiger. "'Tell the rest of them, quick. "'Come on!' cried Carter, waving to the others. "'The hungry tiger has found some way out.'

I said subway, growled the tiger a bit temporarily. Are you going to take that thing along with you? The vegetable man looked lovingly at the wheelbarrow. It was the nearest thing to a cart I could find, he murmured sadly, and will come in handy if I pick up some vegetables or fruit. So will this. He patted a small spade that had grown on the same branch with the wheelbarrow. Hello, here they come now.

At Carter's cries, the little prince of red, who had been trying to decide between a policeman's club and a sword, plucked the sword, and came crashing to earth, followed by several bottles of ink and an ironing board. I may have to fight for my kingdom, he told Betsy importantly, and this sword will help. Betsy nodded understandingly, and, without waiting to pick anything for herself, she ran over to the hungry tiger. They were all anxious to leave downtown, and when Betsy told them a little about subways, she had often been in subways in the United States,

the hungry tiger gave the signal to start. We've forgotten the barber and the singer, exclaimed Betsy, pausing suddenly on the top step. But just then, the two rashers came hurrying over, and when the hungry tiger announced that they were going uptown, and from there back to the marvelous land of Oz, both drew back. I've had enough ups and downs in my life, sighed the barber,

and will remain here and make my fortune. By that time, Prince Everid may pretence be restored to his throne, then and only then will I return to rash. The singer, after one look into the gloomy opening, declared that he too preferred to stay downtown. With this harp and my beautiful voice, I will soon be a rich man, he assured them earnestly. And with many goodbyes and good wishes,

the four travelers left them to make their fortunes. Long after they had descended the steps and entered the subway itself, they could hear the plaintive wails of the sad singer and the thrum of the harp he had picked from the industry. It was dim and mysterious in the underground passageway, and after looking in vain for a car or train to carry them uptown, Betsy began following the arrows painted on the whitewashed walls. "'There ought to be a car somewhere,' panted the little,

little girl, after they had made at least fifty turns. Try mine, invited Carter. And with a tired smile, Betsy dropped into the wheelbarrow. Reddy was riding the hungry tiger, and after they had proceeded no more than an hour, the arrows stopped altogether. Well, this isn't like our subways at all, exclaimed Betsy in disgust. When you take a subway at home, you get somewhere. Isn't this somewhere? asked Carter.

stooping a little so he could enter a rough stone cavern at the end of the tunnel. Whistling cheerfully, he trundled Betsy through the low doorway. The hungry tiger followed, sniffing the air suspiciously, and it must be confessed that the little rock chamber did not look very inviting. The walls were of jagged graystone, the floor damp and slippery, and the whole place dismal and chilly as a vault. A feeble light flickered down from an opening of the ceiling, and after a discouraged look round, Betsy shook her head.

We'll have to go back downtown, she sighed sadly. I'll have to be a cash girl after all. No, you won't, called Reddy. He had jumped off the tiger and gone to examine the back of the cavern. Here's a door. Hurrying over the other saw that the little prince was right. Cave in, roared the hungry tiger, reading the door plate over the little boy's shoulder. knock three times.

Why, that's fine. If it's an end, they'll surely have something to eat. We can't get out, so we might as well go in. He finished with a playful wink at Carter. Stepping back a few paces, the hungry tiger ran at the door and bumped his head three times against the brass plate. At the third bump, the door of cave inn flew open, the floor of the cave itself tilted forward, and the four adventurers fell through. Stones and dirt rattled down after them,

and the hungry tigers growls mingled with the screams of Betsy and Everid as they went tumbling down into the darkness. End of Chapter 9. Chapter 10 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Townsend. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 10. The Magic Spectacles. Calico, king of all the gnomes and metal monarch besides, sat gloomily on the jeweled rock throne

in his underground cavern. Nothing ever happens here, complained Calico, frowning at his royal chamberlain. Let's have a war, proposed Goop, looking up from the ruby scepter he was polishing. We haven't had a war since Rigetto left. Regetto, shrilled Calico, stamping his foot furiously. How dare you mention that name in my presence. Be gone, be gone and never speak to me again. Then I'll write, mumbled Goop.

And picking up his bottle of ruby polish, unconcernedly he left the throne room. Ruggetto was the former king, and had ruled over the gnomes for many years. He had been deposed for his wickedness by a powerful gin, and Calico was made monarch in his place. Later, Ruggetto had tried to capture Oz itself, and had been banished by Osma to a lonely oil in the non-nastic ocean. But, wicked as Ruggiero had been, the gnomes often sighed for his return. Things had been more interesting during Ruggetto's reign, and though Calico was a good king,

he was not half so interesting. Calico knew this, and any mention of the old gnome king always irritated him intensely. For several moments after Goop's departure, he continued to mutter and mumble with displeasure, then, suddenly, befinking himself of a new invention of the chief wizard, he reached into his pocket and brought out a green case. In the case was a pair of pink spectacles, not merely spectacles, mind you, but ex-spectacles, and the gnome wizard had assured the king that with them he could see events before they occurred. Calico had not yet tried this new contrivance, and, still grumbling a little, he set the

spectacles upon his nose, and stared drearily at the rock wall in front of him. He really did not expect anything to happen. Therefore, when four figures appeared suddenly upon the wall, he gave a start of astonishment. Reflected upon the rock surface as clearly as if it were a moving picture, he could see four people making their way through the lost labyrinth at the southern end of his dominions. Goop! Goop! shrieked the Gnome King, pounding vigorously on the gong at his side. Come back here at once! And when Goop rather sulkily appeared, he pointed excitedly at the wall. Look, look, commanded Colico. It's Betsy, Bobbin, the hungry tiger of Oz and two others.

What in mud is that fellow made of anyway? Rubbing his eyes, Goop stared at the wall, and then at his master. Then taking a scrap of paper from a rock desk beside the throne. He scribbled two words on the paper and handed it to the king. You're crazy, stated the paper quite saucily. How dare you write to me like that, fumed Colico, tearing the paper in two. Are you dumb? Can't you speak? Are you blind? Can't you see?

He waved again at the table. the Great Rock. Then, suddenly realizing that Goop had not the X-specticals to help him, tore them off, and clapped them upon the chief Chamberlain's nose. Immediately, Goop was as excited as Calico. Hooray, exulted the little gnome, forgetting his determination not to speak to the king again. Hooray, now we can have a war, till I call out the guard and have the red-hot dungeons he did? Ha-ha-ha! What are you? you laughing at, exclaimed Colico, as Goop doubled up with mirth. That animated truck garden, panted Goop.

He's fallen on his corn ear, and the hungry tiger just slipped into a mud hole. Let me see, cried the king, snatching the X spectacles back again. And for the next five minutes, Calico and his chief Chamberlain fought bitterly for possession of the magic glasses. As soon as Colico had them, Goop wanted to see how the travelers were progressing. and as soon as Goop had them, Colico insisted on having them back. Well, shall we have a war? Grumbled Goop, as Colico seized the specs for the 17th time.

Certainly not, answered the king. Betsy's a good friend of mine. Don't you remember? She was here when Ruggedo was deposed, and I see no harm in these others. I thought it would be like this, muttered Goop in disgust. You're such a goody-goody-goody. You never let us have any fun at all. I suppose you'll end by inviting them all to lunch, he finished bitterly.

Just what I was thinking of, admitted Colico cheerfully. Pray go and conduct them the rest of the way, and don't slam the door when you go out either. Settling back on his throne with a little chuckle of anticipation, Colico continued to watch the progress of Betsy and her friends through the winding corridors of the lost labyrinth. Betsy herself did not even know she was in the Gnome King's dominions. After a terrible tumble through the dark, the four adventurers had plunged into the underground pool of a grim green grotto. While the water had broken their fall and saved them from serious injury, it had not added to their cheerfulness.

This is not the ruby that protects me from water, sputtered Prince Everett, as Carter dragged him out of the pool. Ugh, I'm nearly drowned. Have you still got it? asked Betsy. The hungry tiger had already pulled her out and was helping Carter fish his wheelbarrow from the pool. Feeling in his pocket, the prince nodded. Then, picking up his sword, he looked around in huge disgust. Is this a cave in? he demanded indignantly.

I wonder where this passageway leads, murmured Betsy, who had run to an opening in the grotto. Maybe there's an inn after all. But there was no sign of an inn anywhere, only a maze of rocky corridors branching out in every direction. With Betsy and Reddy on his back, the hungry tiger stepped cautiously out of the grotto and started down the widest of the curious corridors. The floors were slippery with moss-covered rocks. The ceiling was glittering green stones, shaped like long, jagged icicles.

Betsy and the Prince of Rash often had to lie flat on the tiger's back to escape their sharp points, while poor Carter Green was forced to bend double as he walked. Sure-footed as he was, the hungry tiger slipped again and again on the treacherous stones. Anne Carter's progression was a succession of spills, slides, and tumbles. Through it all, the vegetable man maintained his cheerfulness, stubbornly refusing to abandon the wheelbarrow, but after an hour of winding in and out of the dreary labyrinth had still brought them nowhere. Even the vegetable man grew anxious and sad. A thin blue mold was beginning to form on the end of his nose. "'If I don't get out of here soon, I'll spoil,'

he weased nervously. Do you see any openings ahead?' The hungry tiger was about to reply, when he slipped into the mud hole that had so amused goop. This so discouraged the poor beast, he said nothing at all. Indeed, the rest of their journey, while interesting to Calico, watching comfortably from his throne, was neither interesting or amusing to the travelers themselves. When they came at last to an impassable rock wall and realized they must retrace their steps,

Carter sank dejectedly into the wheelbarrow, and the hungry tiger lay down and panted with exhaustion. Imagine their astonishment when a door in the wall suddenly opened, and Goop bearing a blazing ruby lantern appeared before them. Follow me, commanded Goop disagreeably. His majesty has foolishly invited you to lunch. It's a gnome, cried Betsy and surprise. Why, we must be in the gnome king's dominions.

I was here with Dorothy and Belina, when we rescued the queen of Ev and her ten children, puffed the hungry tiger, rising to his feet. Ruggetto was king then, but he's been put out of the kingdom, I understand. I wonder if Calico's still king, exclaimed Betsy. The little girl had had a whole book of adventures with Ruggetto, and had even been present at Calico's coronation. Oh, I do hope Calico's the king, she finished earnestly.

Well, if you're going to wonder and hope, Stay here, grumbled hoop. If you're coming to lunch, follow me. Without waiting for an answer, the crooked little elf turned on his heel and started rapidly down the narrow passageway. The hungry tiger looked questioningly back at Carter, and Carter looked uneasily at Betsy. Let's go, decided the little girl sensibly. If Calico's still king, I know he'll help us.

If he don't, I'll slice off his nose, declared ready, peering on. over Betsy's shoulder in an endeavor to catch another glimpse of Goop. He had never seen a gnome before, and as they hurried after the king's messenger, Betsy explained a bit about these queer, rock-colored elves who live under the earth's surface and dig for precious metals and stones. They passed hundreds of the busy little men on their way through the rocky tunnels, and when Goop entered the underground castle of the gnome king himself, both Carter Green and Prince Everid gasped with astonishment and admiration.

Lighted with jeweled lanterns, spread with silken rugs, furnished with taste and even magnificence, the spacious caverns opened in a blaze of splendor before the visitors. The Gnome King's dwelling was an old story to Betsy than the hungry tiger. They were more interested in knowing who was king, and when the tiger, hurrying after Goop burst suddenly into the throne room, Betsy gave a cry of real pleasure. Why, hello, Calico, cried the little girl, jumping down and running over to him eagerly. King Calico, if you don't mind, whispered the gnome, looking nervously a goop who was making faces at the hungry tiger. How did you happen into these parts, my dear?

We caved in, growled the hungry tiger, sniffing the air anxiously. Is lunch nearly ready, old fellow? I'm perishing for a square meal. Certainly, certainly, Calico answered politely. But first, introduce me to your friends. I've been watching you through my ex-spectacles for an hour. Expectacles? exclaimed Betsy. Well, I was wondering how you knew we were here.

With a proud smile, Calico held out the pink glasses and explained how they worked, and while the little prince and Betsy were still examining his specks, the Gnome King begged them to sit down and tell him the whole story. of their adventures. For I'm quite sure, surmised Calico,

looking curiously from one to the other, but longest at Carter Green. I'm quite sure you've been having some amazing adventures. Betsy nodded vigorously, and Carter grinned from ear to ear, which seemed to surprise Calico very much. Then seating himself in a little rock-rucking chair,

Betsy told him how the hungry tiger had been carried to rash, of her meeting with the vegetable, man and the strange manner in which they had arrived in the same kingdom. Then she went on with Prince Everett's story, told how he had been deprived of his throne, and robbed of the three rash rubies. As Betsy described the magical powers of the stolen gems, the Gnome King leaned forward with sudden interest, and as the little girl explained how the vegetable man had come into possession

of one of the lost rubies, Carter saw a surprised look flashed between the little. Calico and his chief Chamberlain. Then he saw the Gnome king slip a small ring from his finger and hide it in a crevice of his throne. None of the others noticed Calico's action at all. Reddy was too interested in the gnome's curious cavern to bother about any possible danger. The hungry tiger's eyes had closed in a momentary dose

and Betsy herself seemed to have the greatest confidence in the king. I'll have to watch out for us all. declared Carter, hurriedly wiping the mold from his nose. And while Betsy continued her story, the vegetable man began to examine the king's cavern with great care. We may have to leave in a hurry, thought Carter nervously. "'Lend me those expectacles,' mumbled the hungry tiger sleepily, as the little girl told Colico their intention of returning to the Emerald City

as soon as they could, and having Osmo restore ready to his throne. lend me those expectacles. When the little prince of Resh held them up before the hungry tiger's eyes, he gave a roar of delight. What do you see? asked Reddy, curiously. What do I see? Perred the hungry tiger, licking his chops. Why, I see that lunch is ready at last.

Come on, fellows. He's right, chuckled Calico, taking back his glasses, for I ordered it an hour ago. This way, my dear? Taking Betsy's arm, the Gnome King led the way to his crystal dining hall, where one table was set cozily for four, and another apparently for a dozen. I haven't forgotten your tremendous appetite, you see. Smile, Calico, waving toward the low table,

along which rows of beef and legs of lamb were ranged in a tempting row. The hungry tiger gave a sigh of satisfaction, and without waiting for a knife fork or napkin, began to munch his way hungrily down the table. For Betsy and the little prince, Colico had prepared an alluring luncheon of fried chicken, sweet potatoes, and peach pie. At the vegetable man's place stood a sparkling glass of root beer.

I didn't suppose you care to eat, observed Colico tactfully, but I was sure you would enjoy our national drink. Carter was so touched by the Gnome King's thoughtfulness that he began to reproach himself for his unkind suspicely. fissions. Calico himself ate sparingly of a hot mud pie and swallowed a cup of scalding black rock coffee, and while ten little nimble gnomes waited on the table, he and Betsy talked over old Oz times and discussed means of crossing the deadly desert. "'I don't know how you feel,' yawned the hungry tiger when he had finally worked his way to

the end of his long table. But I feel like a nap." and the little prince admitted that they were tired, too. And immediately Goop showed them to a splendid suite of guest caverns just off the throne room. The vegetable man slammed the door hard, then opened it quite noiselessly. Just as he had expected, the two gnomes had their heads close together. Now, when it came to hearing, there is nothing so fine as a corn ear. And what Carter heard through his made him tremble with indignation. If you weren't such a miserable mole, muttered Goop bitterly, you'd get that other Ruby.

End of Chapter 10. Chapter 11 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 11. The Second Rash Ruby I told you there was a strange power in that Ruby when you bought it from the fisherman, hissed No ruby has an R carved in the side without some reason. It is undoubtedly one of the magic rubies of rash, the one in protecting the holder from danger by water.

Several days before Betsy's arrival, and old Ev fisherman had brought a sparkling square ruby to the gnome king. He had found it in a fish he had drawn up in his nets, and, knowing Colico's fondness for jewels, had taken it straight to the king. Calico at once purchased the stone and had it set in a small ring. The same ring Carter had seen him slip into the rock throne. If you had the courage of a flea, grumbled goop, you'd steal the ruby this vegetable person discovered and become a real power in the land. But it wouldn't be right, objected Calico, mopping his brow with his gray kerchief.

Besides, Osma would hear of it and come with her army to conquer us. How could she know? if you had the two rash rubies, argued Goop. How would she ever know? We'll just destroy all these rubbishy travelers, and that will be the end of it. Where's the ring now? he inquired anxiously. Safe enough, answered Calico, glancing over his shoulder.

I took it off as soon as Betsy mentioned the rubies. I was afraid she would notice it. Come on, then. Urged Goop coaxingly. Can't you be a little bad for once? "'Tisn't natural for a gnome to be good all the time, "'and where does all this goodness get you? "'Show you're a real gnome for once

"'and forget all this mortal stuff you learn from Betsy Bobbin.' "'As Goup continued his wicked pleading, "'Carter stood frozen to the spot. "'His corneers waving to and fro with wrath and indignation. "'He longed to snatch the precious ruby from its hiding place "'and dash back to one of the others. But the gnomes were so close, he dared not move. But all at once, Calico came to a decision and began to hurry toward a small door.

I will consult the wizard, muttered the gnome king in a weak whisper. Come, let us see what the wizard thinks about this. Taking Goop's arm, Calico went pattering down the rocky hallway. In one leap, the vegetable man reached the great throne, found the ruby ring, and dropped it into his leather pouch. He was about to return to his companions when the king's ex-spectacles, lying on the arm of the throne, attracted his attention. Clopping them hurriedly upon his nose, he rushed toward the cavern occupied by the little prince of rash. But halfway there, he gave a great leap. Great cauliflowers, gasped Carter. As plainly as you see the pictures in this book,

He saw Goop fumping the little boy on the head with a pickax. Stop, stop! screamed the vegetable man, dashing into the cavern like a whirlwind. Off flew the king's expectacles and splintered into bits on the floor, and his entrance was so noisy, Everard jumped up in a fright from the couch where he had been sleeping. What's the matter? he demanded, feeling around sleepily for his sword. Matter! coughed Carter. Wasn't that rogue goop in here?

The prince shook his head, and looking into the next cavern, Carter saw Betsy curled up peacefully on a green sofa, and from the cave beyond came the resounding snores of the hungry tiger. Nothing's happened at all, yawned ready. It was the expectacles, puffed Carter, catching a glimpse of the pink splinters of glass at his feet. Do you know what is going to happen, my rash young friend? that scala wag of a gnome intends to bang you over the ears with a pickaxe. I saw him with my own eyes and Calico's specks.

Bang me with a pickax, shuddered Everett, jumping up in alarm, as Carter ran to waken Betsy and the hungry tiger. As fast as he could, the vegetable man told him all he had overheard, and showed them the ruby ring Calico had sly hidden away from them. Their pleasure at recovering the second Ruby was entirely spoiled by the treachery of the gnome king, and scarcely looking at it, ready thrust the ring into his pocket. "'I can run the fastest,' panted the hungry tiger. "'Jump on my back, all of you, and I'll make a sprint for safety.'

Almost as one, the three leaped on the hungry tiger's back. Carter, leaving his wheelbarrow with a sigh, and arming himself with a spade he had picked from the industry. And as the hungry tiger dashed through the door into the throne room, Goop and his entire army came swarming through another entrance. Colico himself was nowhere in sight. He had delegated Goop to secure the rash ruby and dispose of the travelers. Then, thought the Gown king, if any trouble arose afterward,

Goup would be held responsible. But Goup did not intend to have any trouble afterward. He meant to destroy the traveler so utterly that not even Osma with her magic would be able to discover what had become of them. Therefore, when the wicked little elf saw his four victims preparing to escape, he gave a loud screech, hurled himself at the hungry tiger, and brought his pickax down with all his might upon the head of the little prince. It might have been a feather for all the impression it made upon Reddy. And while Betsy and Carter ducked back in dismay, the gnomes rushed at them in a body,

and simply rain blows upon their heads and shoulders. But the blows fell as harmlessly as an April shower. And when Carter realized this, he began laying about with his spade so briskly that the enemy went down in heaps. "'One of the rubies is protecting us,' whispered Prince Everid, pulling out his sword. "'Take that, you gray robber!' and bringing the sword down on Goop's shoulders, he stretched him flat upon the rocks.

At the same moment, the hungry tiger, gathering himself for a spring, leaped entirely over the gnome army, and, charging out the first door he came to, raced down a long, dismal tunnel. They could hear the gnomes scampering after them, and redoubling his speed, the hungry tiger fairly flew down the dim corridor.

When a sudden turn brought him up against a swinging door. He went through it like a shot and out upon a huge rocky cliff. Whoa, whoa, quavered Carter, jerking the hungry tiger frantically by the tail. Stop, stop, implored Betsy and Reddy both together. No wonder. Bubbling up from the cliff and hurling itself down over the rocks below was a shimmering sheet of flame. The highest firefall, to be perfectly exact in the whole of Calico's kingdom. But the hungry tiger could no more stop himself than a barrel rolling downhill. With a roar that loosened three rocks and a boulder,

he plunged over the cliff and down the firefall itself. Ruby, roby, moaned the vegetable man, clutching Betsy and the little prince, Do your work! The roar of the flames drowned out every other sound, and green and yellow tongues of flame licked out at the travelers as they were hurled downward. But so powerful was the rash ruby that they were harmless as spring zephyrus, while the stones and rocks against which they bumped and bounded seemed soft as pillows. The tiger was falling headfirst, and somehow the three riders managed to keep on his back

and hanged together. Just before they reached the bottom and swirled down into the pool of flames at the base of the firefall. Carter lost his hole on Reddy's belt. He soon regained it, but not quickly enough. My ears burn, complained the vegetable man, as the hungry tiger struggled through the flaming torrent toward the shore. What's that? Questioned Betsy, sniffing the air suddenly. At the same moment, they were simply covered with a shower of crisp white flakes. My ears, moaned the vegetable man, in grief-struck in tones, they've popped. This on top of all the other shocks was almost too much.

And when the tiger had dragged himself out of the fiery stream and scrambled up the steep bank, they all dropped down upon the steaming rocks and simply panted with exhaustion. First time I ever came down a firefall, popped ready, gazing furrow. gazing fearfully at the tumbling torrent of flames. Well, it's the last time I ever come down one, growl the hungry tiger. If it hadn't been for that ruby of yours, we'd all have been nicely toasted by now, as it is. The hungry tiger looks sorrowfully at the vegetable man.

The best ears I ever had, groaned Carter, feeling the husks that were left to him. Did it hurt? asked Betsy, sympathetically. but the vegetable man made no reply. He can't hear you, explained the hungry tiger gloomily. If I had that gnome king, I'd eat him. He didn't turn out very well, admitted Betsy sadly. But never mind, Reddy has another ruby and we're in the upstairs world again. That's so. Maybe we're nearer the Emerald City than we think.

Rumble the hungry tiger. Let's look around a bit and see. Motioning for Carter to follow and still feeling depressed over Calico's treachery and the vegetable man's sad loss, they started across the stony country, edging the Gnome King's dominions. It's funny Asma doesn't help us, whispered Betsy to the little prince of rash, as Carter strode gloomily and silently beside them. I've been away from the Emerald City two days now, and she must be wondering where I am, and they have certainly missed the hungry tiger by this time.

But how would Osma know where to look for you? asked Reddy. The magic picture would show her, answered Betsy, and quickly explained the most magic of Osma's possessions. This curious painting hangs in the royal palace, and when Osma wishes to know where her friends are and what they are doing, she has but to stand before it and request them to appear. Immediately they flash into view, the picture showing just where they are and what they are doing at the time.

More than once, Osma has saved her subjects from serious disaster by consulting the magic picture, and it did seem strange that she had not looked for Betsy and the hungry tiger. While Betsy and the little prince were still puzzling over it, they stepped across the rocky borders of the Gnome King's dominion into a pleasant farming country, and they were all so relieved to find themselves once again in more natural surroundings, that they stopped worrying and began to enjoy themselves. The fields of potatoes and cabbages was especially cheering to Carter Green, and when they came across a waving field of corn, he gave a joyful shout and sprang lightly over a fence.

Wait, he called gaily holding up both hands. Wait till I pick a couple of ears. End of Chapter 11. Chapter 11 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. chapter twelve immense city when the vegetable man returned with his new corn ears nicely adjusted everyone felt more cheerful can you hear asked the hungry tiger curiously carter nodded i think they're even better than the last pair he confided happily it isn't everyone who can pick a new ear when his old one pops or wears out not so bad being a vegetable man a betsy my dear "'No,' agreed the little girl, thoughtfully.

"'And you haven't taken root for a long time, have you, Carter?' "'The vegetable man grinned. "'I haven't had a chance,' he chuckled merrily. "'We haven't stayed in one place long enough for that. "'I hope the next country we come to is calm and quiet, "'and that I can pick up a cart and some fresh vegetables.' "'I hope we can pick up a square meal,' roared the hungry tiger, "'licking his whiskers hungrily.

"'I hope there's some magic.' clasping her hands betsy looked around expectantly then we could cross the deadly desert and go home i kind of miss dorothy and ozma she acknowledged wistfully and i'd like to see hank well i hope we find the last ruby exclaimed prince everard the one calico had must have been the ruby that protected one from danger by water you said he bought it from a fisherman carter yes mused the vegetable man it must be the one of the one iras she flung into the river, while the one I found was a ruby that protects from danger on the earth and under the earth. Look how it saved us from the pickaxes and the firefall. Then the only one left to find is the ruby that protects you from danger in the air, reflected Betsy thoughtfully. Do you suppose we'll have to fly up in the air to find it? Not if I have anything to say about it, growl the hungry tiger, shaking his handsome head. Balling is bad enough. Flying would turn

my whiskers perfectly white. We'll stay on the earth if we can, and travel back to Oz by the fastest route we can find. Then Osma can settle affairs in rash, discover the whereabouts of the last Ruby, and restore ready to his throne. Can Osma do all that? marveled the little prince, wonderingly. Osma can do anything, Betsy answered proudly. Just wait till you see the Emerald City and Scraps and the scarecrow. Tell me about them. begged the little prince eagerly. And as the hungry tiger patted comfortably down the long sunlit lanes, Betsy told Reddy all about the jolly inhabitants of Oz.

The vegetable man listened attentively to, his new ears a bit forward and a dreamy expression in his kindly blue eyes. But right in the middle of a description of TikTok, the metalman, he gave a bounce of surprise. Spinach, spotted Carter Green explosively. "'Where?' inquired the hungry tiger, coming to an abrupt stop and blinking around longingly. He was not very fond of spinach, but even spinach would taste better than nothing. "'I didn't mean spinach exactly,' mumbled the vegetable man hurriedly.

But look, pointing his twig-like finger to a bend in the road, Carter directed their attention to a weather-beaten sign. "'Beware the ants,' advised the sign mysteriously. I hope they're not red ants, murmured Betsy anxiously. Red ants bite. Who's afraid of ants? cried Reddy disdainfully. All you have to do is shred on them. That's right, agreed the hungry tiger.

I'm surprised at you, Carter, stopping us for a little thing like that. But suppose there were millions of them, shuddered the vegetable man uneasily. I'd be a feast for ants. Betsy looked troubled, but the Prince of Rash, slapping his pockets suddenly, reminded her of the rash rubies. The rubies will protect us no matter what happens, declared ready, confidently. As soon as you see an aunt, jump on my back, advised the hungry tiger calmly. Then we'll all stick together and I'll run like sixty. Carter shook his head and muttered unhappily to himself.

He could not help remembering the sad accident. to his ears. They all kept their eyes glued to the road for the first sign of the ants. The hungry tiger tiptoeing along almost as if he were walking on eggs. They were all so intent upon the road beneath their feet that they never thought of the road ahead at all. Then Betsy, suddenly looking up to see whether any towns or villages were visible, gave a shrill scream and clasped her arms round the tiger's neck. "'Ans!' quavered Carter, leaping upon the hungry tiger, and fastening both hands in Reddy's belt.

Betsy was too shocked for speech, and it was the hungry tiger himself who answered Carter's query. "'Ans!' coughed the hungry tiger, trembling like a leaf. "'Gi-Aunt!' and swinging around like a pivot, the terrified beast raced off in the opposite direction. But the giants had already seen them. There were four of the huge creatures, and Betsy, glancing fearfully over her shoulder, saw the smallest, a perfectly tremendous little girl giant, beginning to gain on them. The hungry tiger did its best, but who could hope to outdistance a creature whose every step covered a city block? Father, father, shrilled a little giant in a voice that shook the hills.

See that darling little kitten? Before the luckless travelers had time to plan, think, or act, a great hand came snatching downward and seized the hungry tiger by the scruff of the neck. Up went the tiger. Off went the three riders, and, turning seven somersaults, landed together in a hayfield. By the time they had picked themselves up, the giants were a mile down the road. There were worse than gnomes, muttered Carter indignantly, called the hungry tiger a kitten. Did you hear that? It's a wonder that great girl didn't break us to bits. She would have,

if we had not had the rubies, panted Everett, picking up his sward. We must have fallen a quarter of a mile. Weren't you scared, Betsy? Betsy shivered, but recovering herself quickly, ran out into the road and tried to catch a last glimpse of the hungry tiger. We'll have to go after them, she cried. That girl needn't think she can have the hungry tiger for a kitten. Why, He must be furious. I'm glad she didn't pick me for a pet, exclaimed Carter, walking briskly up and down to keep from taking root. Let's go, Betsy.

Maybe the giants live around here somewhere, and maybe we can help the hungry tiger to escape. I'm not afraid of giants, asserted Reddy in a slightly shaky voice. Come on, weave the rash rubies to protect us. Trying to keep up their courage and assuming a bravery they were very far from feeling, the three adventurers darted off in the direction the giants had taken. Well, I hope we don't meet any more, sighed Betsy, pressing closer to the vegetable man, and I hope we find the hungry tiger before nighttime. The sun had set, and in the gray twilight,

the trees and bushes took on fearsome shapes and forms. Keeping close together and conversing in scared whispers, they hurried anxiously along. Soon, large and disturbing signs began to appear on both sides of the road. "'This country belongs to the big wigs. Keep out,' advised the signs. "'Big wigs,' breathed Betsy nervously. "'Why, they must be the giants. See how high the fences are? And the trees are so tall I cannot even see the tops,' gasped, ready. Feeling smaller than ever, the two children and Carter,

tiptoed down the long dark lanes, and presently came to the giant's, city itself. All they could see was a grim gray wall stretching up toward the sky. Hanging in niches of the wall at regular distances were great yellow lanterns, and traced on the wall itself in flaming letters stood the town's name. "'Eman!'' "'Emense silly!' quavered the vegetable man in a choke voice. "'Well, I should say it was.' "'If there were only a gate,' murmured Betsy, "'we might peek through. Oh dear, I do hope the hungry tiger is safe?

He's safe enough, groaned Carter, looking sadly at the great wall. But how are we ever to get in to him? The only entrance to a immense city seemed to be a huge stone door in the center of the wall, and it was locked and bolted with bars as big as telegraph poles. Over the wall came to a confused murmur of voices, the rumble of wheels and a muffled sound of music, while drifting down to the tired hungry travelers, came the delicious smell of a hundred giant dinners cooking.

"'Just one giant biscuit would be enough for us,' sighed Betsy, sniffing the air wistfully. "'I'll bet it would be as big as you are, ready.' "'What's the use of wishing?' sighed the little prince gloomily. "'We can never climb over the wall, and there's nothing to eat on this side. "'I almost wish we had stayed downtown.' Both children looked so downhearted that Carter saw at once that something must be done. So, bidding them keep close together, the vegetable man went off in search of supper. The lanterns from the city wall spread their radiance for miles around,

and it was not long before Carter came to a great apple orchard. Climbing the trees was impossible, but scattered about on the ground were apples of the size of pumpkins. Taking one of the smallest, the vegetable man hurried back to the others. In spite of its size, the apple was of delicious flavor. Reddy cut it into slices with his sword, and he and Betsy grew so merry over their strange supper that Carter felt well repaid for his trouble. Tomorrow, promised the vegetable man, gaily, we will find a way into the city and rescue our old friend.

And tonight, queried Betsy uneasily, tonight we will. will rest," answered Carter, calmly, as if sleeping under the walls of a giant city were quite a usual affair. Gathering leaves and twigs he made Betsy and Everett comfortable beds in the shelter of a giant elm. For himself he collected a pile of rocks. So I'll not take root, he explained with a wink. The leafy beds were so soft, and Betsy and Reddy were so weary, they soon fell asleep. But Carter, on his rocky couch, never closed his eyes. eyes. End of chapter 12.

Chapter 13 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 13. Beside the Wall The bright sun awakened Betsy and ready next morning. Betsy had been dreaming of the Emerald City and was but half awake. Rubbing her eyes, she stared in bewilderment at the high walls of immense city. Oh dear.

mused the little girl, heaping a sigh of disappointment. "'We're still here, aren't we?' "'I should say we are,' answered Carter. "'And when you think of all we've been through, it's quite a miracle, Betsy, my child, to even be here.' Carter had brushed back his celery top, perked up his ears, washed his red cheeks in the brook, and looked fresh as only a vegetable man may.

"'I wonder if the bigwigs ever used that door,' yawned the little prince of rash, rolling over sleepily. Just what I was wondering, murmured Carter. Now my plan is this. Let us watch the door carefully. Then when it opens, we will slip in unnoticed and look around for the hungry tiger. But we must be mighty careful not to get run over or trodden upon by the giants. Betsy turned a trifle pale, let mention of the giants, but reddy hastened to reassure her.

I'll take care of you, Betsy, promised the little prince boldly, and the rubies will help, even if the giants do catch us. Somewhat comforted, but not absolutely convinced, Betsy ran over to the brook, and after she and Reddy splashed their hands and faces with the cool water and took a long drink from a nearby spring, they both felt quite adventurous and cheerful. We'll not bother about breakfast, decided Carter, for I have a notion there'll be plenty inside. Do you really suppose they'll open the gate? asked Betsy. Quite excited at the prospect of entering a giant city. Well, the four bigwigs we met on the road

must have come out that way, observed Carter, blinking up at the enormous tulip tree surrounding the big wig town. Each leaf was large as a person, and Carter was about to pick one up from the ground and fashioned it into a hat for Betsy. When a perfect shower a rocks came flying over the wall. While none actually hit the three travelers, they were so startled by the suddenness of the attack that they stood frozen to the spot. Then Carter, seizing Betsy, darted behind a tree. Before Reddy could join them, a flock of monstrous pigeons swooped down from the wall

and began pecking greedily at the rocks. Why, they're giant crumbs, cried Betsy, peering around the tree in astonishment. Did you ever see such big birds? Why, they're biggest ostriches. Bigger, gulped Carter, anxiously motioning for ready to hide himself. But just then, one of the pigeons, taking the little boy for a crumb or a tempting little bug, snapped him up in his bill and soared over the wall of the city. Stop, come back! Help! Help! shouted Carter Green,

while Betsy jumped up and down with terror and astonishment. but the pigeons on the ground continued to peck at the crumbs and the pigeon that had carried off the little prince was as gone as yesterday will it eat him cried betsy tearfully oh carter what shall we do now and with reddy and the hungry tiger both gone things looked dark indeed the vegetable man had no idea what to do nor how to do it but determined to comfort betsy he began talking so confidently and cheerfully that she soon dried her tears. No harm can come to ready, for he still has the rash rubies, he reminded her galey. And all we have to do is wait here till someone opens the door in the wall. Then we'll find the hungry tiger and ready and continue our journey to Oz. After the pigeons had flown away, Carter rolled one of the giant crumbs over to the little girl.

Breaking off the crust, which was a bit stale, they found the inside, soft and fresh, and, while it was not exactly the breakfast she would have chosen, Betsy managed to satisfy her hunger. Then, sitting down on the twisted roots of a tulip tree, they waited impatiently for the doors of immense city to open. But nothing of the kind happened. And as the morning wore away, Carter grew terribly uneasy. He was more anxious about Ready and the hungry tiger than he cared to admit. Afraid to leave the spot for fear the door would open while they were away, the two stared anxiously at the wall, but it was a weary business, and more and more Betsy began to wonder why

Osma did not come to her assistance. There were plenty of crumbs for Betsy's lunch and supper, but as night drew on and still no one came to open the door, Carter decided to take matters into his own hands. slowly a plan was forming in the vegetable man's mind, and as the moon rose up over the tulip trees, he explained it carefully to Betsy Bobbin. Tonight, announced Carter in a firm voice, I will plant my feet close to the walls of the city.

In giant soil I ought to grow very rapidly, and by morning should reach the top of the wall. Then I will bend over and grow downward till I touch the ground on the other side. But what will become of me? cried Betsy, looking at Carter with frightened eyes. You will grow with me, said the vegetable man calmly. I will take you in my arms, and we will grow up together.

Then what? asked the little girl, doubtfully. How will you grow down again? I won't, answer the vegetable man resignedly. But I'm not important, Betsy, dear, and shall doubtless make some sort. sort of useful vine or tree. I don't want you to be a vine, wailed the little girl in dismay. Please don't be a vine and leave me all alone.

But we must think of the others, Carter pointed out gently. Once inside the city, you will find the hungry tiger and ready, and with the help of the rash rubies manage to escape. When you reach Oz, perhaps Osma will find a way to have me transported and transplanted in the Emerald City. "'I'd like to be near you, Betsy,' sighed the vegetable man wistfully. "'In vain Betsy reasoned, argued and coaked. Carter's mind was fully made up.

It grew darker and darker as they talked, and just as the lanterns flashed out from the big wig wall, the vegetable man picked her up in his arms and ran over to the great barred door. Standing as close to the wall as he could squeeze, Carter said Betsy on his left shoulder, and resolutely planted his feet in the soft earth and gazed up into the darkness. Now then, chuckled Carter, assuming a jaunty and carefree air to reassure the little girl. I'm rooting for you, Betsy dear, and tomorrow we'll grow over the top.

But at that instant there was a loud thump on the other side of the wall. With a screech the door crunched open, and a giant foot was thrust through. Betsy! Betsy! Bellowed a terrible big-wig voice. Where are you, Betsy? Betsy Bobbin stared at the vegetable man, and he stared at the giant foot. There was something familiar about that foot, but what was it? end of chapter thirteen chapter fourteen of the hungry tiger of oz by ruth plumley thompson this librivox recording is in the public domain chapter fourteen the airman of oz betsy had been perfectly right in supposing princess ozma would soon discover her absence from the castle dorothy had gone home with the tin woodman so of course knew nothing about it

But when Betsy did not appear for breakfast, Osma immediately sent Jelly a Jam, her small maiden waiting, upstairs to search for her. Osma herself hurried out into the garden, thinking Betsy might be gathering a breakfast bouquet. Shading her eyes, Osma looked in every direction, but there was no sign of Betsy anywhere. She was about to return to the castle when a loud bump sounded just behind her, spinning about osma saw the strangest sort of figure sprawled over her favorite rose-bush it was four times the size of a regular man the body something like a tremendous sausage with a round balloon-shaped head and pudgy arms and legs while osma was trying to determine what kind of a being it was the huge creature rose with a bounce and came clumping toward her "'I told if there were people at the bottom of the air,' puffed the stranger gleefully.

"'Here is one now. I'll take it straight back to the sky for proof.' Osma had just time to notice that he wore heavy iron boots, when he bent over and, tucking her under his arm, as if she had been a package of sugarplums, kicked off one boot and then the other, and soared like a balloon released from its string, straight up toward the sky. It was all so unexpected and breathtaking, for several minutes Osma was perfectly paralyzed. Then, glancing down and seeing her lovely castle fading to a mere speck below, she began to squirm and struggle and pound with both hands upon the arm of her captor.

"'Take me back, put me down,' commanded Osma, imperiously. "'How dare you carry me off like this?' But her tiny fists made no impression on the great fellow. He seemed to be constructed of some tough silken substance, and from the way he dented in when she poked him, Osma concluded he was filled with air. Like a balloon, thought the princess. Oh, please, please stop, she called despairingly.

The voice of the little fairy came wafting faintly up to the airman, and with an interested sniff he took Osma from beneath his arm and held her on a level with his nose. The quick change made her exceedingly dizzy, and while she recovered herself, he examined her most attentively. He was swimming in the air all the time, with his feet in a strange climbing motion, and their flight upward never slackened during the conversation that followed. "'What a pretty little creature it is!' mused the airman, half aloud.

his voice was so kind and his face so round and jolly that Osma took heart and began begging him to return her to the earth. I am a princess, she explained earnestly, and anything may happen to my kingdom while I am away. Something has happened already. Breathlessly she began to tell of the disappearance of Betsy Bobbin and of the perils that might overtake her in a magic country like Oz. But the airmen seemed more interested in Osma's voice and appearance than in her story. "'Why, it's talking airish,' he chuckled with a pleased grin. "'And what splendid proof a princess will be when I deliver my lecture next month before the cloud-country gentleman fellow airman?

I shall say it has long been a matter of dispute as to whether any life exists in the lower levels of the air, but now the question is settled, for all time. The earth is undoubtedly populated by small, fragile princesses like this. Here he paused and held Asma up, as if displaying her to an imaginary audience. Oh, oh, please stop and listen to me, entreated Osma. Then she gave a great gasp, for without warning the sky darkened, and in their swift flight they barely escaped the gleaming point of a star.

"'Don't be alarmed,' murmured the airman, feeling the little fairy tremble in his grasp. "'Night has fallen. The higher we go, the faster time flies. It will be daylight in a few moments. That's one of the advantages of high living,' he continued comfortably. "'One grows up so quickly and time flies so fast we never are bored. See, it is tomorrow already.' "'Tomorrow!' wailed Asma, blinking in the sudden sunlight that came flooding through the clouds. "'How dreadful! Oh, dear, Mr. Balloon, man! Do take me back to my castle.' "'Atmos is my name!' announced the airman, I bet stiffly. "'Atmos fair! I am a skyman, and I could not take you back even I wanted to,

for I have left my diving boots on the earth. You'll grow used to it up here. He assured her, and turning on his back, began to float lazily toward a long purple cloud, still holding Osma aloft so he could more readily observe her. "'A most interesting specimen!' he murmured over and over, sweating at the little fairy approvingly. "'I'm not a specimen, I'm a princess,' declared Osma indignantly. "'I do not wish to live in the sky. Oh dear! Oh my! What will become of Oz while I am way. Now you're unreasonable, sighed at most reproachfully. What will become of my lecture if I let you go? Do you think for one instant any air-body

would believe me when I told them that there were living creatures at the bottom of the air? I must have proof, and you are my proof, little princess. You should feel honored to have been discovered by a well-known explorer. You shall have an air-castle. You shall have an air-castle all to yourself, and the lecture will only take a few years of your time. Hello, it's night again. And sure enough, it was. Shivering in the darkness, Asma began to fully realize the awful perils of her position. It might be years before she saw her old friends and the lovely Emerald City again.

Being a fairy, Osmond knew that she herself would not grow older, but what might not happen in Oz during her long absence? clasping her hands desperately, the little princess tried to think of some way to help herself, and as the sun came flashing through the clouds again, through the clouds again, a dreadful plan popped into her head. Atmos was still talking. After the lecture there will be a dinner, droned the airmen's sleepily. That will take about seven years, I should say, though I've known Sky Banquets to last as long,

as ten. Ten, moaned Osma, with a little shudder, and, steeled by the thought of a ten-year banquet, she drew an emerald pen from her dress, and thrust it quickly into the airman's side. Then, covering her face with both hands, she began to cry softly, for this tender-hearted little fairy had never hurt anyone in her whole gentle life, and could not bear to even think of what she had done. For several seconds, the airman's calm conversation continued. Then, all at once, he gave a great gulp. "'Princess!' gasped the airman in a faint voice.

"'I seem to be losing my breath.' Osma felt the rush of cold air past her ears, and next instant they were tumbling earthward over and over, down through clouds and mists and great blue stretches of empty air. How she managed during that long dizzy fall to keep hold of the airman's limp arm, she never knew herself. But hold on she did, and after what seemed to be hours and hours, they landed together in a feathery field of wheat. The sudden plunge downward had kept all the air from escaping from the airman,

but as Asma rolled over and saw his pitiable condition, she began to weep anew. His legs and body were perfectly limp, and the air was. issuing from his right arm with a shrill, whistling sound. "'Save me!' panted Otmos, rolling his eyes wildly from side to side. "'Save me! Can't you see I'm expiring?' "'But what can I do?' sobbed Osma in a panic. "'Tie something round my neck,' directed the airman desperately. "'Keep the air in my head!'

"'snatching the ribbon from her curls. Osma hastened to do, as he suggested, shivering a little as she pulled the ribbon tight. "'I'd like to know how this happened,' moaned Atmos, as the little fairy tied the ribbon in a neat bow under his poor wrinkled chin. "'It was my fault,' confessed Osma, covering her face so she could not see him. "'I stuck you with a pin. You wouldn't let me go, and I couldn't leave Oz for all those years. "'Oh, dear, oh dear, I'm so sorry.' And remorseful tears began to trickle through her fingers and drop on the airman's nose. "'Bunctured by a princess!' puffed out, most, as if he could not get the idea through his head at all.

"'Well, who would have thought it? She looked so harmless and sweet, too. "'I think I should be the one to cry,' he observed presently. And as the little fairy's sobs grew more and more violent, he lifted his head and regarded her with positive alarm. "'Don't cry like that,' begged Otmos uncomfortably. "'It didn't hurt, you know, and I have expired in the cause of high scions. That's a great honor.

Besides, I should not have carried you off. Don't cry,' he begged, trying frantically to rise. But the more he coaxed and blamed himself, the harder Osma wept, so that neither of them heard the approaching steps of a stranger. Hello, cried a bluff voice suddenly. What's the matter here? Did you bust your balloon, little girl, or what? Glancing up, Osma saw a tall red-faced fellow in a leather apron just behind her. The head of the airman did look like a great balloon, and while Osma quickly dried her to her, peers. Utmost simply stared at the newcomer, almost forgetting his misfortune in his curiosity. "'What this?' he whispered huskily.

"'I thought earth was inhabited by princesses like yourself. Is this a princess, too?' "'Ha, ha, roared the stranger, slapping his great thigh. Do I look like a princess?' Then, as the curiousness of a balloon's conversing struck him, his eyes grew rounder, and rounder, and its mouth hung open with astonishment. "'It's an airman,' explained Osma with dignity, "'and I am the princess of Oz.' "'Ahrman,' muttered the big fellow under his breath. "'Oz?'

"'Well, I've heard of Oz, but you're a long way from home, little lady, and where on earth did you pick up this fellow?' "'He's from the sky,' Osma hastened, to inform him. "'And I've had a serious accident,' added Atmos, to save the little fairy from telling her part in the affair. You look like an accident, observed the stranger, kneeling down beside the collapsed form of the airman. Was it a puncture or an explosion? A puncture, sighed atmos, with a side-long glance at Osma.

But what matter of earth creature are you? I'm an ornamental ironworker, announced the stranger, proudly. There is my shack over yonder. Rusty ore is my name. and say, he rose and looked triumphantly at the little fairy. I believe I could blow this fellow up again. I've a bellows in the shop. Shall I try? Oh, could you? Would you? begged the little princess, clasping her hands equally. The more rusty looked at lovely little Osma, the surer he became that he could.

Everyone who saw Osma had an immediate desire to serve her, and the ornamental iron worker was no exception. rolling the airman into a neat bundle, he slung him over his shoulder. Then taking Osma's hand, strode briskly across the fields. "'Have you anything to eat in your house?' asked the little princess, skipping to keep up with Rusty's long strides. "'I haven't had anything to eat for two days.' "'Two days!' bellowed the iron-worker indignantly, and sweeping Osma up into his arms, he broke into a run,

so that almost before they knew it they had reached his queer little shop. End of Chapter 14. Chapter 15 of The Hungry Tiger In Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 15. Rusty Orr to the Rescue. While Ospa perched on Rusty's rude bench, nibbled hungrily at the big sandwich he had brought her, Atmos looked around him with interest and frank curiosity. The little shop was filled with arund deer, fire-arins, iron dogs, and weathercocks, too.

Rusty had placed the punctured airman on top of a scrap heap, while he went to search for his bellows that he might blow him up. "'Is this an earth castle?' asked Atmos, as Rusty disappeared through the doorway. "'Are there many creatures like this at the bottom of the air?' "'Rusty is a man. There are plenty of men, women, children, kings, queens, and animals down here,' answered Osma, hardly knowing how to begin to tell an airman about the real and unreal countries of the earth. "'Everyone here does not live in a castle,' she went on seriously. "'Most people live in houses, or on forms.' "'What's a form?' asked Atmos with a puzzled frown.

"'Do you know, little princess, I think I had better. explore this country a bit further before I'm blown up. Think what a lecture I can give on the wonders at the bottom of the sky.' "'Why don't you?' asked Osmo, swallowing the last bite of the sandwich. "'What?' inquired Rusty, returning just then with the bellows. "'I was just remarking to the princess that I'd like to see more of your earth before I return to the sky,' confided Atmos, blinking his round eyes at the iron-worker. But as soon as I'm blown up and patched, I'll fly straight upward. How did you manage before?' questioned Rusty, sitting down on the bench beside Osma.

"'Well,' said Atmos, "'a friend of mine who lives on the mountains of the moon made me a pair of iron boots. These enabled me to sink through the air and walk about the bottom of the sky which you called the earth. I wanted to find out if the earth was inhabited. Putting on the boots, I dove from the tip of the moon, and landed in a strange and lovely garden, where the first object that met my eyes was the lovely little lady before us. Delighted with my find, I picked this princess from the garden, kicked off my boots, and flew back to the sky, carrying her along as proof.

"'Proof,' blustered Rusty, jumping up indignantly. "'How dare you steal a princess for proof, you old rascal? What shall I do to him?' he puffed, turning angrily to Osma. "'Oh, nothing, please do nothing,' begged the little fairy in alarm. He did not really mean any harm, and I'm down on earth again. Besides,' Osma's voice sank to a low whisper. "'Besides, I punctured him with a pin.' "'You did!' exclaimed Rusty admiringly.

"'Well, good for you. you. Yes, sighed Atmos sorrowfully. It was good for her, but exceedingly bad for me. Still, I can see now that it was wrong for me to carry her away, and if you'll find some way to blow me up and keep me down, I'll take her safely back to her castle. Now you're talking like a real man instead of a windbag, said Rusty approvingly. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll make you a pair of iron shoes myself, blow you up. pack you up, and start you in the right direction. How would that be? Osmo was so delighted with the iron workers' plan that she gave him a hearty hug, and as Rusty started to work on the boots at once,

it was not long before they were finished, and standing in the doorway to cool. Blowing Otmos up was a ticklish and dangerous operation. Carrying the airmen outside, Rusty placed him on the ground. Then, placing a bellows in his side, he began to work it slowly and carefully, while Osma watched to see that each arm and leg had the same amount of air. Before they started, Rusty had weighed utmost down with an iron bucket and an orange stag, but as the body of the airman filled out, he grew so light and buoyant that they had to add the anchor and a couple of chains. "'Not too much now,' warned Osma, anxiously untying the ribbon from the airman's throat.

Not too much, or he'll burst. But Atmos did not burst. And when Rusty saw he had exactly filled out his strange silken skin, he pulled out the bellows, clapped a neat patch over the puncture, and stood back to admire this curious citizen of the air. Atmos himself began to bounce, swing his arms, and sing aloud for pure joy. "'Excuse my singing,' chuckled the airman. "'But I'm full of fresh air, and you have no way.

idea how fine it feels. Well, don't put on airs with us, muttered Rusty, who was really alarmed at the airman's size. Do you think he's safe? He whispered nervously to Osma. Osma nodded enthusiastically, and somewhat reassured. Rusty went off to pack her a lunch for the journey back home. By this time the boots had cooled, and with great difficulty, Rusty fitted them to the airman's puffy feet, released him from the airman's.

the iron weights and chains and helped him to rise. Osma watched with great interest, for she was not at all sure the boots would keep Otmos on the earth. But after a few skips and flutters, the airmen began to walk soberly up and down, and with a pleased smile, declared himself ready to start. Rusty was sorry to have the little princess go. But when she explained a strange disappearance of Bessie Bavin and how she must return at once to the Emerald's city and tried to discover her whereabouts in the magic picture, he reluctantly bade her goodbye. "'You are on the edge of the known king's dominions,' said Rusty.

"'And if you travel straight ahead, you will come to the deadly desert. With iron boots, at most you'd have no trouble crossing the burning sands, and if he carries you on his shoulders, no harm will come to you.' "'I have never seen a desert,' said Atmos eagerly, "'for there are no deserts in the sky. come, little princess, let us go at once. Giving Rusty a farewell embrace and thanking him again for all his kindness, Osma ran after the airman, who had already started toward the south. Goodbye, called Rusty, as they turned to wave to him from a little hill.

Be careful not to tread on her toes. The country through which they were passing was barren and wild, and not at all interesting to Osma. But the airman stopped and exclaimed. aimed over every tree in boulder, collecting so many leaves, flowers, sticks, and small stones that his air pockets were soon bulging. "'I'm really quite glad I was punctured,' he remarked happily. "'Otherwise I should have missed all this.'

Osma nodded, a bit impatiently, for she was thinking of all she had missed during her strange two days in the air, and wondering what had become of Betsy Bobbin. "'Maybe she's been home all the time,' sighed the little princess, "'and won't she be astonished when I tell her where I have been?' "'Oh, dear, I do wish she would hurry. "'If you put any more stones in your pocket, "'you'll never be able to fly,' she cautioned gently, "'and if we don't walk a little faster, we'll never reach the Emerald City at all.'

"'That so,' puffed the airman, "'and straightening up he reluctantly dropped a handful of pebbles. but walking is so monotonous. In the air we can drift, float, swim, or fly, and so never grow tired. It must be very nice, agreed Osma politely. But don't you think we could walk a little faster? We're going to have a storm, she added, glancing up at the sky, which was full of dark clouds. Oh, at most, let's run, and maybe we'll reach a house before it breaks.

Breaks? panted the airman, clumping clumsily after the light-footed little fairy. "'What will it break? Us?' "'Don't you ever have any storms in the sky?' asked Osma over her shoulder. Atmos shook his head solemnly. "'We're above all that sort of thing,' grunted the airman, trying his best to keep up with Osma. "'Dear me, how dreadfully disagreeable!'

The sky had grown dark by this time, and the rain was falling in torrents. Blinding flashes of lightning and loud crashes of thunder added to the confusion, and when large hailstones came pelting down upon their heads, At most stopped in positive alarm. "'Princess, princess!' choked the airman, groping toward Osma in the dark. "'Get me out of this, or I'll be punctured!' "'If only I had my magic belt!' gasped Osma, pushing back her wet hair. "'I could wish us both to the Emerald City.

"'Oh, dear, I do wish there was a house somewhere.' Scarcely had the words been spoken before a house sprang up at the little girl's feet, so suddenly in fact that it tumbled her over backwards. The morning before she left her castle, Osma had slipped one of the wizard's wishing powders into her pocket. But shoe, strings, and button-hooks, the little girl had not been careful to say what kind of house she wanted, and there perched a skew on the dripping rocks stood a doghouse. While Atmos stared at it in a daze, thinking it to had fallen from the sky,

and Osba picked herself up in astonishment, a cross-doggy face appeared in the doorway. Gah, woof, rumbled the dog threateningly. Where he had been wished from, I cannot say, but the journey had been unexpected and rough, and seeing two total strangers standing outside, the dog immediately decided that they were responsible for the accident. Paying no attention to the rain or hail, he dashed furiously out and tried to bury his teeth in the airman's leg. Thanks to his iron boots, Atboast was not punctured, and as the dog made a spring at Osma, the airman snatched the little fairy up in his arms and began running in a way he had not believed possible.

so swiftly did Atmos run, that the barks of the dog soon died away in the distance, and the storm was left far behind them. "'Stop! Stop!' begged Asma, when she could finally make the airman hear her. "'Stop, Atmosphere! You're running the wrong way! Oh, do take care! There's something queer about this country!' With a final puff, Atmos brought himself to a stop, or at least he tried to. but the earth beneath his feet was behaving most unaccountably, moving along in big brown waves and carrying him tumbling along with it. They had unluckily run into the great rolling country of the east, mentioned by a few explorers,

but seldom crossed by ordinary travelers. Standing first on one foot and then the other, Atmos tried wildly to keep his balance, but in a moment a heavy mud wave struck him behind the knees, and rolled him over so that he and the little princess were soon being buffeted along like tiny ships on an unruly ocean. When the waves broke, which they frequently did, sticks, stones, pebbles, and dust showered over their heads. In fact, a more miserable mode of travel cannot be imagined. Let us fly! choked the frightened airman, clutching Osma's hand. Say the word, little princess, and I'll kick off my boot.

and carry you up to safety. No, no, not that, coughed Asma in a panic. Wait, Otmos, something will turn up. End of Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson. This Libre-Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 16. Ready and the Giants.

While Carter and Betsy waited so impatiently outside the walls, The Little Prince of Rash was having an amazing day with the Giants. After a dizzy flight through the air, the great pigeon, attracted by a bit of stale cake on the ledge of a high window, had dropped him carelessly on the sill. Fortunately, for ready, the window was open and squirming through. He lay panting and pale, waiting for the bird to snap him up again. But the space was too narrow, and after a few angry pecks at the pain, the pigeon flew away.

With a gulp of relief, the prince rolled over and sat up. A delicious smell of coffee, bacon and rolls came floating upward and glancing over the edge of the sill. Reddy saw that he was in an enormous dining hall. Far below the window stood the giant sideboard, covered with serving dishes the size of bathtubs, and seated at a huge table in the center of the room, two giants were eating porridge with spoons as large as snow shovels.

They had golden crowns upon their heads, and from the richness of their robes and the elegance of the whole apartment, ready, guessed, and quite rightly, that he was in the castle of immense city itself. Waiting upon their majesties were four monstrous footmen, and all of the giants wore huge white wigs, the curls of which bounced and bobbed when they walked in a truly comical fashion. Prowching in a corner of the sill and trusting that none of the giants would notice him, the hungry little boy watched the king and queen toss off huge basins of coffee, devour biscuits as big as boulders, and pancakes brought enough to cover an ordinary-sized table. In these immense

surroundings, Reddy felt so little, lost and lonely that all thought of finding and rescuing the hungry tiger seemed hopeless. How was he even to reach the floor? without breaking himself to bits. Therefore, he listened listlessly to the booming voices of the bigwigs, and fervently wished himself back with the vegetable man and Betsy Bobbin. But a cross-remark of the giant king suddenly caught his attention and made him prick up his ears. "'That kitten!' growled the bigwig in a fierce voice, frowning across the table at the queen, "'That kitten must go! It kept me awake the entire night with its miserable.

meowing. But what will Elma do?" murmured the queen gently. Our daughter dotes on the little creature. Let her find something else to dot on," puffed his majesty indignantly. My castle is no place for stray cats. If it's here to-morrow, continued the giant, blowing his cheeks in and out threateningly, I'll throw it in the pond. Snatching up his paper the king strode from the room, every curl in his wig,

expressing wrath and determination. Stray, kitten! gasped ready in relief, remembering the little giant girl's words. Why that must be the hungry tiger. The knowledge that his old friend was still safe and close at hand was so encouraging. The little prince cheered up at once, for after all Reddy was a prince and naturally brave and resourceful. If the hungry tiger was still in the castle, he should certainly be able to find him, and together they would devise some way of escape. The queen, still arguing about her daughter's kitten, had waddled after her husband, and while the big wig footman cleared away the breakfast dishes, Reddy tried to think of some

plan to reach the floor in safety. He put his hands in his pockets, stared nervously over the edge of the sill, then gave an exclamation of glee, for his fingers had closed over the rash rubies, The rubies! Why had he not thought of them before? If one of them had carried him safely down the furious firefall, why would it not help him now? Without disturbing the dishes on the side table, the footman had gone to the kitchen.

So, closing both eyes and gritting his teeth, Reddy jumped boldly off the window-edge. He landed with a crash, splash, and splutter, and opening his eyes, found himself looking through the glass, sides of the giant's water pitcher. The water was over his head, but he felt no discomfort, except a slight chill from the ice, for in his pocket was the ruby protecting him from all danger by water. Disturbed because he had not looked more carefully before he jumped, but elated over the

way the rubies were working, the little prince rose to the top of the pitcher. Luckily for him, the water reached almost to the brim, and, seething the pitcher's edge, he pulled himself up and dropped easily over the side. This time he landed beside a flat plate of sizzling hotcakes and bacon, and we cannot blame him for stopping long enough to hack off a few slices of each with his sword. This, with several crumbs from the giant biscuits, made an excellent breakfast, and stuffing a large piece of pancake in his pocket for lunch, the little boy jumped gaily off the sideboard.

Thanks to the other ruby, he floated lightly, as a feather down to the floor, and then began his long walk to the kitchen. His clothes were still wet and dripping from the unexpected bath, but his spirits were high, and he was beginning to enjoy his strange experiences, and to look forward with lively anticipation to his meeting with the hungry tiger. A brisk fifteen-minute walk brought him to the kitchen door, and, slipping through, he saw the big wig servants seated at a large table. Then loud voices made his head thump, and to bring their faces into view he had to lean so far over backwards, he soon had a severe pain in his neck.

But he was sure he would learn from them the whereabouts of Little Elma, and once he knew that, finding the hungry tiger would be almost easy. Compared with the giants, Reddy was about the size of a small doll, and none of the chattering bigwigs noticed the little boy crouched behind the coal bucket. After listening to a great deal of conversation that did not interest him at all, Reddy was finally rewarded with the information he was seeking. "'Where's little Elm's tray?' weased a big wig maid, suddenly pushing back her chair. "'That girl grows lazier every day.' "'There,' grunted the cook, pointing a pudgy finger toward the dresser. "'And it's high time you took it up to her, you ill-natured, clod.'

"'After exchanging a few more rude remod. marks, the maid picked up the tray and started toward a back stairway. Frantically, Reddy began to run after her, risking discovery by the others in his anxiety to keep her in view. But it was a hopeless race, and he had just given up in despair when the giantess came hurrying back for the salt, which she had forgotten. Almost treading on the breathless little boy, she snatched a salt shaker from the dresser and started off again. But this time, Reddy would be able to her. went with her. The strings of the maid's apron reached almost to the floor, and with a mighty spring the little prince seized one of the fluttering ends and hung on for dear life. Unconscious of

her passenger, the giantess briskly mounted the stair, ready, swinging round and round at each step, and hoping heartily that the apron string would not come untied. After a very bumpy journey, the little boy found himself at the top of the stair, and next instant in the presence of the little giant princess herself. She was seated in a chair in the largest playroom you could ever imagine, and looked extremely comical in her great white wig. Letting go the maid's apron string, ready drop to the floor, and creeping behind a toy block, peered around in amazement. Dolls as big as himself were strewn about the floor. Noah's arcs, toy barns, dollhouses, and castles as large as our own dwellings were ranged along one side of the wall, and here and there were stuff and wooden

animals of just the right size for ready to ride. There was a toy train he longed to start, and a wooden circus that made his heart thump with excitement. I wish Patsy were here, thought the little prince. Couldn't we have fun? I wish she could see these dolls. Scarcely hearing the clatter of dishes on the tray as the princess greedily ate her breakfast, Reddy's eyes roved enviously over the vast collection of toys. A sudden thump as the little giantess jumped out of her chair, recalled him to the serious purpose of his visit. Princess Elma, with a saucer of cream in her hands, was pattering toward him calling at the top of her voice. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty, where are you, kitty dear?

The thought of the hungry tiger as a little girl's kitten was so ridiculous that Reddy chuckled in spite of himself. And when little Elma, after several unsuccessful attempts, dragged the tiger from beneath a low sofa and began dipping his nose in the cream, Reddy laughed outright. The hungry tiger was growling and snarling so ferociously. and Elma filling the air with such boisterous terms of endearment that neither of them heard. After a futile struggle with the giantess, the tiger settled himself on the floor and began to lap up the cream with an expression of unhappy and hopeless resignation.

Squatting on the floor beside him, the princess continued to shower him with vigorous caresses. "'Fenish your breakfast, sweet!' she cooed in a voice like a fairy-boat whistle. then Mother will take you for a nice little ride in the doll-coach." Reddy hoped to have a few words with the hungry tiger, and began to creep cautiously toward the strange pair. But just as he came with inhaling distance, the hungry tiger finished the cream, and Elma lifted him joyfully into the air. Torn between mirth and sympathy, Reddy watched the giantess dress the indignant and struggling

tiger in a doll-coat and cap, and tuck him unceremoniously. into a doll-coach and wheel him out of the nursery. I'll have to wait till they come back, sighed ready, as the doll-coach went bumping down the entry, and the shrill protests of the hungry tiger grew fainter and fainter. And while I wait I might as well look around. This proves so interesting that he was surprised to hear the great clock on the mantel strike twelve.

As there were still no sign of the hungry tiger, He sensibly decided to eat his lunch. Choosing the coziest of the dollhouses, he walked boldly up the front steps and into the dining room. The chairs and table were exactly the right size, and with a little chuckle of enjoyment, ready set the table, drew up a chair, and ate his piece of pancake in peace and comfort.

The dollhouse was complete in every detail, and in the kitchen covered the little boy found canisters of tea, coffee, and sugar. There was a small gas stove that really worked, so Reddy made himself a cup of coffee and finished his lunch with a box of stale cookies he found on the dresser. Then, feeling a little sleepy, he curled up on the doll lounge in the living room and had a fine nap. After this he amused himself trying on the Dow hats and coats he found in the entry closet and sliding down the curved banister. By this time it was four o'clock, and growing a little. anxious about the hungry tiger. Reddy ran out of the dollhouse to see if the princess had returned, but the nursery was still deserted, and after trying in vain to wind up the toy engine and taking

a perilous ride on a mechanical donkey, which he did manage to start, the little boy decided to look for his friend in some other rooms of the palace. The toy donkey had carried him to a door leading from the playroom into Princess Elma's bedroom, and slipping through, Reddy tiptoed around, examining the tall furniture and fittings with deep interest. In the center of the room, he stopped short and gave a sharp cry of astonishment. What do you think? There, looking like a toy in these huge surroundings, stood a bed no larger than ready zone. Now what? gasped the little prince of rash in extreme perplexity.

Is that great girl doing with a little bed like this? There seemed no answer to the question. But a sudden clump, clump in the hall made him dash for cover. Princess Elma was coming back, and just as Reddy dove headlong into one of her slippers, she ran in the hungry tiger in her arms. "'Now stay here, pet,' bellowed Elma tenderly, and dropping the tiger on the floor she skipped noisily out of the room. For a moment the hungry tiger lay motionless where he had fallen.

The doll cap was down over his eyes. the doll coat in ribbons, and Reddy could see that he had had a hard day. When he did attempt to rise and try to run, the dollcoat threw him down at every step, and the little prince, with a cry of sympathy and relief, ran out to help him. "'Ready!' roared the hungry tiger hoarsely. "'How did you get here? Run, boy, run before that dreaded girl gets you too. "'Look, look at me!' he groaned forlornly. "'How shall I ever hold up my head again?

"'Run away, Reddy. I beg of you, run before it is too late.' "'Shh!' whispered Reddy, warningly. "'We'll run together.' "'Cutting the cap-strings with his sword and tearing off the offensive doll-coat, the little boy threw both arms round the tired old tiger and gave him a tremendous hug. "'To think that I the hungry tiger of Oz should have come to this. Mone the tiger, two tears running down his nose. Oh, oh, oh, I shall never be the same.

Shh, begged Reddy again. Tonight, when the giants are asleep, we'll escape. I still have the rash rubies, remember. Holding them up, Reddy looked eagerly at the ruffled and doleful tiger. The sight of the rubies seemed to restore him a little. We can try it anyway, he mused wearily. But take care. Here comes that awful girl back again.

Hide yourself quick. Ready had just time to scramble beneath a chint's chair when Princess Elma came bounding back a plate of chicken in one hand and a doll bed in the other. End of Chapter 16. Chapter 17 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley-Thompson. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 17. The Big Wig's Secret.

The giantess seemed astonished to find the hungry tiger without his wraps, and picking him up again to scold gently. She was thrusting his front paws into a doll's nightdress when a loud voice from the next room made her pause. "'Bother!' exclaimed Princess Elma, putting the hungry tiger down beside the plate of chicken. "'I've got to take my bath. I'll be right back.' "'Don't hurry,' growled.

the hungry tiger, gnashing his teeth ferociously, as Elma ran toward the big-wig nurse, standing in the doorway. "'Why don't you bite her?' asked Reddy, venturing out from beneath the chair. "'My conscience tells me it would be wrong,' groaned the poor tiger. After all, she is only a child and really means no harm. Princess Elma was gone so long that Reddy and the hungry tiger had time to dine most comfortably on the plate of chicken and tell their strange experiences in the giant castle. The hungry tiger was amazed to learn how Reddy had been carried over the wall and listened

eagerly to his plans for escape. We'll wait till midnight, whispered the little prince. Then, with the rush rubies to protect us, we'll fall all the way down the stairs and try to find our way out of the castle. I hope nothing has happened to Carter and Betsy, sighed the tiger mournful. help me out of these horrible sleeves, boy. But Reddy advised him to keep on the doll's gown so that Elma would suspect nothing,

and reluctantly the tiger agreed. I had no idea kittens had lead such hard lives. He groaned dismally. My ribs ache from hugging, and I've been dragged around all day like a duster. Hide, Reddy, hide. Here she comes again. Reddy lost no time in concealing himself beneath the chair, and from his hiding place he watched

the giantess kiss the hungry tiger good-night and took him vigorously into the doll-bed. Then with a huge yawn she walked over to her own bed, the tiny bed that had so astonished Reddy in the first place. How does the great creatures expect to sleep in that, thought the little boy scornfully? Oh, indeed. Raising her hand to her head, Elma calmly took off her huge wig, and as she did, she shrank so swiftly downward that Reddy clutched the leg of the chair and clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming aloud. The hungry tiger, who had slept in the nursery the night before, was equally astonished at this sudden change in the princess. Rearing up on all four as he glared in disbelief at the little girl, who, now,

now no larger than Reddy, jumped unconcernedly into bed, and pulled the covers up to her chin. The big wig, itself, grown small enough to fit a mortal-sized person, lay on the floor beside her. So surprised that he forgot all necessity for caution, Reddy rushed out from beneath the chair, but the hungry tiger hastily waved him back, and curling down as if nothing unusual had happened, pretended to be asleep. Fortunately, the little girl had not seen ready, and, crawling cautiously back, he sank down beneath the chair and tried to work out the puzzle. These giants are frauds, decided the little boy exultantly.

Why, they're giants only when they wear their wigs. He longed to talk it over with the hungry tiger, but, realizing the wisdom of hiding till all the giants were abed, set himself patiently to wait. It grew quieter and quieter in the giant's castle, and as the nursery clock told out twelve, the hungry tiger slipped noiselessly from his bed and patted softly over to the little prince. She's asleep, breathed the hungry tiger. And so are the rest of these bogus bigwigs. Let's make a dash for it, my boy.

I've been thinking, mused reddy, as he helped the hungry tiger. off with a giant doll dress. I've been thinking that it will take a long time to get out of the castle and to cross the city. It might take us till morning. All the more reason to start at once, urged the hungry tiger. Come along, let's start now. But Reddy stood staring thoughtfully at the white wig beside Princess Elma's bed. I've been thinking, repeated the little boy, that if I put on that wig,

I might grow into a giant myself, run a hundred times faster than I can now, and fight anyone who tries to stop us. Better not, shuddered the hungry tiger nervously. It might stick to you. Come along, hop on my back, and we'll manage somehow. But ready, remembering the steepness of the giant stare and the hugeness of the giant city, began to creep determinedly toward Elma's bed. As he did, Elma stirred uneasily in her sleep, and alarmed lest she wake and seize the wig before he could, Reddy snatched it from the floor and clapped it on his head. Stars! Up like a beanstalk shot the little boy, till he feared his head would crack against a ceiling.

As he grew, the chairs, tables, and furniture that had seemed so immense, assumed an astonishing smallness. The hungry tiger, running in a frantic circle around his feet, looked as he must have looked to Princess Elma, a very tiny and cunning kitten. Taking a long breath, Reddy leaned down, picked the tiger up, and ran out of the room. The hungry tiger was scolding bitterly under his breath,

but Reddy had to hold him up to his ear to discover what he was saying. "'Mind what you're doing,' Rumble the hungry tiger, crossly. I'm tired of being picked up like a bundle of rags and tossed about. Don't squeeze me either, or I'll bite off your thumb. I'm real mad at you. Chuckling a little to himself, Reddy promised to be careful, and tucking the hungry tiger gently beneath his arm, ran down the richly carpeted hallway.

He could not resist, peeping into some of the rooms, and everywhere the same sight met his eyes. tiny beds stood in the midst of gigantic bedchambers, and the giants themselves no bigger than ordinary folk, sleeping comfortably without their wigs. It would be a great chance to capture the city, mused ready to himself, and for a time wondered whether it might not be fun to try. But he was so anxious to see Betsy and Carter and continue his search for the lost Ruby, that he decided to let the foolish bigwigs rest in peace. Quickening his steps, he hurried downstairs, unbolted the doors, and let himself out of the castle. Several big-wig guards looked at him curiously as he hurried down the street, but they made no attempt to stop him. "'It's funny,' said Reddy to the hungry tiger as he panted along.

"'This city doesn't look large at all, and it's not nearly so big or fine as rash.' "'That's because you're a giant now,' roared the tiger, who was gradually recovering. his good humor. It looks pretty big to me. Where are we, anyway? Right at the gates, answered Reddy triumphantly. Here you, get out of the way. The big wig guard, who was asleep with his back against the wall,

blinked with surprise and resentment, as Reddy spun him out of his path and slid back the bolts. Then, opening the gates, Reddy darted through, calling Betsy Bobbin at the top of his voice. Hush! the hungry tiger. Be still, can't you? Do you want to scare her to death?

We know already how frightened Betty and the vegetable man really were. Failing to recognize Reddy and the huge bigwig, as he came bounding through the doorway, they took hands and ran for their lives. Come back, come back! pleaded the prince of rash, making frantic little snatches at the fleeing pair. Stop, Carter.

"'Stop, Betsy! Don't you know me?' "'The wig, idiot! Take off the wig!' grumbled the hungry tiger, who was tired of being jostled up and down. Take off the wig. So ready, who had been about to lift Betsy up and explain who he was, snatched off his wig instead. In a twinkling he had shrunk down to boy's eyes, and releasing his hold on the hungry tiger, chased merrily after Carter and Betsy. "'Betsey! Betsy!' gasped the little prince breathlessly. "'Don't run away from me!' When Betsy, scarcely believing her ears, looked over her shoulder and saw Reddy and the

hungry tiger instead of a big wig, she spun about in perfect astonishment. "'But the giant!' exclaimed Betsy. While Carter Green hurried forward to embrace Reddy and hug the hungry tiger, what became of the giant?' "'Here he is!' coughed the hungry tiger, dropping Prince Elma's wig, which he had picked up when Reddy dropped it and brought along in his teeth. While Carter and Betsy continued to stare at them in wonder, Reddy related the history of

his experience in immense city, and told how he had stolen the wig. Then to demonstrate its strange power, he tried it on and turned before their eyes into a big wig himself. Well, sighed Betsy Bobbin, as he took it off and shrank down beside her. I don't believe anybody in Oz is having as queer adventures as this. Do you, Carter? The vegetable man shook his head positively. But they're turning out all right, he added cheerfully.

Here we are, all together again, with two of the lost rubies and a magic wig besides. I think we should be very happy, finished Carter, smiling at the hungry tiger. "'That's because you were never a kitten,' roared the tiger, beginning to lick his satiny coat into smoothness again. "'What I've endured at the hands of that great girl no one will ever know. "'Ugh! Buh!' "'Won't she have to stay little without her wig?' asked Betsy, curiously. "'Hope she does. Hope she feels just as small as I did,' grumble the hungry tiger vindictively.

She's far safer as she is now. Maybe they'll make her a new one, suggested Reddy. Why, Betsy, they're not giants at all, just big frauds, and I'm going to keep this wig always just to remember them by. Don't wear it when I'm around, groaned the hungry tiger, rolling his yellow eyes fiercely. I don't want to remember them, and every time I look at it, I'll think of the awful day I spent as a

kitten. Though it was way past midnight, the four adventurers had so much to tell and so many plans to make for the morrow, it was a long time before they finally settled themselves for sleep. But after Betsy had heard all over again about Princess Elma's marvelous toys and how ready had fallen into the giant water pitcher, the little boy and girl stretched out on the soft grass beside the road and pillowing their heads comfortably on the tender-hearted old tiger, slept soundly as tops. But Carter did not need to sleep. So perching upon a fence, he watched the moon sailing across the story sky and kept a sharp lookout for giants. End of Chapter 17. Chapter 18 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson.

This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 18 The Third Rash Ruby It was wicked of I Rashi to steal the throne But I'm almost glad he did, remarked the little prince of Rash as he and Betsy walked cheerfully down the road next morning. Why, if he hadn't, I'd never have known you or Carter and the Hungry Tiger, continued ready, slashing at a tall weed with his sword,

and I'd never have seen all these cities and celebrities. Much refreshed by their night's rest, the four travelers had breakfasted royally on a giant peach and set out once more for the Emerald City of Oz. Don't you ever feel homesick? asked Betsy, a little wistfully. She herself was beginning to long for the Emerald City, and a glimpse of Osma and Dorothy, and her many friends in Oz. Well, I would like to see old Fis and Pop, admitted ready with a sigh. He must be wondering where I'm sorry.

am. And it would be fun to be a prince again. Still, I am glad we had all these adventures together, aren't you, Carter? The vegetable man nodded, but the hungry tiger did not seem at all enthusiastic. His experience as a kitten still made him angry. "'What makes you think our adventures are over?' he rumbled irritably. "'We don't even know where we are. I trust we are going in the right direction,' he grunted, looking over his shoulder at Betsy. "'And even if we are, how shall we cross the deadly desert? We have to cross the desert before we come to Oz, you know.'

"'Let's wait till we come to it,' advised Betsy, sensibly. "'And if Reddy puts on his giant wig,' she added suddenly, "'he can see whether we are going in the right direction and—' "'Whether there's anything to eat?' Put in the hungry tiger, who had not cared much for his breakfast. "'Maybe there's a roast beef, bush around somewhere. He finished hopefully. Reddy really enjoyed nothing better than shooting up into a giant. As he explained to Betsy, it made a chap see things in a much bigger way. So quite

willingly he clapped on Elma's wig and turning slowly looked in all directions. As he was now taller than the tallest tree anywhere about, he could see from miles around and it at once became apparent to those on the ground that he had made an astonishing discovery. What is it? Roared the hungry tiger, rubbing impatiently against his shins. Something to eat? Take off that wig, you rascal. Come down here and tell us what you see. But Reddy lifted Betsy into the air and placing her on his shoulder, pointed excitedly toward the south. From that great height, Betsy could not see very distinctly, but even so the little

girl gave a cry of surprise and delight. Striding down a road that was soon crossed their own came a most curious figure, none other than Otmos the airman and pattering along hopefully at his side, the little princess of all Oz. It's Oz, cried Betsy, nearly losing her balance. Oh, ready, she's coming to help us. But who is that funny balloon man? Hurry up, ready. Let's go meet them. "'Like this?' boomed the Prince of Rash, doubtfully. "'No,' decided Betsy, shaking her head. "'It might scare her if you were a giant.

Put me down and take off your wig.' Almost dropping Betsy in his excitement. Reddy pulled off his wig, and after quickly explaining their startling discovery to the hungry tiger, the two children started on a run for the crossroads. "'I hope she never finds out why I went to her. rash, muttered the hungry tiger under his breath as he patted hurriedly after them. Carter followed more slowly, brushing back his celery tops and working up his corn ears.

The vegetable man wished to make as favorable an impression on the little princess as possible. To Osma herself and to Atmos, plotting wearily along the rough road, nothing could have been more astonishing than the sudden appearance of Betsy Bobbin and her friends. "'Why, Betsy!' exclaimed the little fairy, running forward joyfully. "'Where have you been?' "'Did you look in the magic picture and find us?' asked Betsy, giving Osma an excited little hug. "'Oh, Osma, we've had such a lot of adventures, and now we can all go home.' Osma looked doubtful, and even more surprised, for as we know perfectly well,

She had not looked in the magic picture at all, and was as lost as Betsy Bobbin. "'And I thought the earth was inhabited by princesses,' gasped the airman, looking in bewilderment from one to the other. "'What odd and interesting specimens! Are you real?' he inquired earnestly, tapping Carter on the chest. "'As real as rhubarb,' answered the vegetable man with a grin. "'Are you?' "'But let me introduce the famous hungry-tiles. of Oz. He has a beautiful mouth, shuddered Atmos, glancing down sideways at the tiger.

Or when it is shut, does he bite Mr. Rubarb? Only when I'm hungry, sighed the tiger, rolling his yellow eyes mournfully up at Atmos, and I'm hungry all the time. How extremely dangerous, murmured Atmos, stepping quickly behind the vegetable man, Is this little boy creature with you too? Of course, laughed Betsy, smiling up at Atmos. He's a prince, and we're both helping him find the lost rubies so he can be the rightful ruler of rash.

Betsy had been trying to explain all the happenings of the last three days, and now, as prettily as she could, she introduced Carter and Reddy to Osba, and Carter, Reddy, and the Hungry Tiger, to the Comic-Chi. airmen. Then, because there was so much to explain and consider, they all sat down under a huge handkerchief tree and talked to their heart's content. As Betty insisted on hearing Osma's story first, the little princess began it, the airman looking terribly embarrassed as she told how he had fallen from the clouds, and then flown off with her. Ready, nodded sympathetically, as Asma described her flight through the air.

having been carried off by a pigeon himself, he knew just how she felt. And when Osma told how the days and nights flew past in the sky, and how she had punctured the airman and come tumbling to earth, Carter Green was simply rooted to the spot, for the vegetable man, in his excitement, had forgotten to keep moving. But we are good friends now, put in utmost hastily, as Reddy nudged the vegetable man loose. Aren't we little princess?

Osma nodded and smiled and went hurriedly on with her story. After being tossed about by the rolling country, it had at last flung them into a small lake, which was on the whole rather fortunate, as they were nearly choked with dust. At most, in spite of his iron boots, floated nicely, and after they had washed off the mud, he towed the little ferry safely to shore. The sun had soon dried them off, and they had taken the first road that stretched ahead, As you see, finished Osma, smiling gaily at Betsy, It was a lucky road, for it brought us straight to you.

Betsy's story, as you can well imagine, took much longer, for the time had not flown as fast for the earth travelers as it had for the sky travelers, and the little girl, helped out by Carter and Aretti and the Hungry Tiger, recounted her strange trip with Carter to rash. The discovery of the hungry tiger, the wicked, of irashy, the story of the lost rubies, and the little prince, their escape and fall downtown, Osma and Atmos listened with simply breathless attention. And as Betsy described their experiences with Kaliko and the tumble down the firefall,

the airmen snatched two handkerchiefs from the tree and began to mop his head with first one and then the other. "'Too strange to believe!' sighed the airman weakly. they'll never believe this in cloud country. Osma smiled to herself at this, and decided that the airman's lecture would last several centuries, if he tried to include Betsy's story with his own. Betsy was so out of breath by this time,

Reddy took up the tale and told them all about immense city and the giants. As he put on the wig to demonstrate its marvelous power, Osma looked up at the little prince in frank admiration. You have shown yourself wise and brave and deserve to rule over a kingdom, said the little fairy, as Reddy took off the wig and sat down beside her. I wish I had some of my magic appliances with me. Then we could locate the last ruby and restore you to the throne at once. As it is, we'll have to go back to the Emerald City and consult the Wizard of Oz.

Last ruby, puffed Otmos, who had not paid much attention to the ruby part of the story. Why, I have a ruby? Reaching in one of his air pockets, the skyman produced a sparkling square gym. Seizing the jewel with a gasp of surprise, Reddy brought out the other two and held them up for all to see. Why, it is the last ruby, cried the little prince, pointing to the or carved distinctly on the side of the gym. It is the ruby that protects me from all danger in the air. But how did Otmost get it? exclaimed Betsy, completely bewildered.

Well, he is an airman, began ready, not quite sure of himself, but too surprised and delighted to really care. And I suppose, I got it from a Skylark, announced the airman, puffing out his cheeks importantly. One morning, as I was picking air currents from a large current bush near my air-kessel, A skylark flew by and dropped this ruby into my hand, and as it was bright and shiny, and unlike anything I had ever seen, I kept it. Well, good for you, cried Carter Green, slapping at most on the back. The lark must have caught the ruby as irashy flung it into the air. Imagine the old Scalowag's feelings when he knows that a vegetable man found the ruby he

buried in the garden, a fisherman the ruby he hurled into the room. river, and an airman the ruby he tossed into the air. Quite a coincidence, I call it. And taking three skips and a hop to keep from rooting to the spot, Carter perched on a rock he had found himself and began to whistle merrily. "'And now!' exclaimed Betsy, running over to seize Reddy's hands. "'Now with all the rubies you can conquer Irishy and nothing can ever harm you again.' "'Oh, let's go back to Oz!' growl the hungry to. tiger, lashing his tail a little at the very thought of irasci.

Let's go back to Oz, where the meals are regular, and a tiger's a tiger. Ready can live with us, and we'll all have fun together. That is, if we can never find a way to cross the desert. I'll carry you across, volunteered the airman, looking down at his boots. I'm big enough, and I'd do anything for little Osma. I'm her errand boy, he grinned, winking at Carter Green. "'And I'm Betsy's,' declared Carter proudly. "'Jumping off the stone, he began hopping round like a jackrabbit,

"'and Osma could hardly keep her eyes off the comical little gentleman. "'Let's start, fellows,' suggested Carter, squinting up at the sun. "'Perhaps we are nearer this desert than we think, "'and as we're not sure of the way either to the Emerald City or to rash, "'we'll have to go where the next road takes us.' "'The desert lies over there, announced Reddy, pointing toward the east. I saw the gleaming sand when I had on my big wig. Then let's go east, sighed Osma, seating herself contentedly on the hungry tiger.

In a twinkling, Betsy hopped up beside her, and, with ready pacing proudly ahead, and Carter and atmost ambling comfortably behind, the little procession started off. End of Chapter 18. Chapter 19 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 19 Ready Restored to the Throne The Time Passed Most merrily for the Travelers

Carter and Otmos were so interested in each other and Betsy and Osma were so busy exchanging their strange experiences they scarcely noticed the country through which they were passing. But after an hour's march, Reddy, who was still ahead of the others, gave a loud cry of surprise, for he had caught a glimpse of the pink towers of rash. "'We've traveled in a circle,' panted the little boy excitedly. "'And here we are back where we started from.

"'Well, shall we stop and conquer Irashie, or go on back to Oz?' queried Betsy. "'The deadly desert is on the other side of the city, and we could even, easily march around it. March around by all means, roared the hungry tiger, who had his own reasons for avoiding rash. In the Emerald City, Osma can do the whole conquering by magic, and then if Reddy still wants to return to his measly little kingdom, she can transport him with the magic belt. The little fairy looked inquiringly at Reddy, but Reddy lifted his chin, and, fingering his sword lovingly, shook his head. A prince should conquer his own enemies, declared the little boy bravely, and after the way Irishy treated us, I really ought

to conquer him. But can six people conquer a city? Gasp the airman, rolling his eyes a bit wildly. In the sky, it takes an army. I've seen one person conquer a city in Oz, boasted Betsy proudly. Come on, Red, I'll help you. So will I, cried Carter Green, picking up a stout stick. and we have the rash rubies, remember.

I don't know much about Earth battles, but I can tread on a few toes, offered Atmos, plumping up to the little prince and tapping his boots significantly. And if you are set upon it, I'll bite off a few heads, roared the hungry tiger. On to rash. Bidding the little girls hold tight. He went charging full speed over the hill, ready Atmos and Carter racing breathlessly after him. Now it happened that Irashy and his chief scribe were having luncheon in the castle gardens. They had long since dismissed the hungry tiger and the little prince from their evil minds.

You can therefore imagine their astonishment and dismay when Reddy and his companions came hurtling through the trees. The little army had rushed impetuously past the guards at the gate, and after one glimpse of the hungry tiger, the rashers they encountered in the city, had fled like leaves before the wind, so that they had reached the castle without interference. At the sight of the huge airman, Ippity, who had been about to pour himself a cup of coffee, gave a frightful scream and scrambled nimbly into a tree,

while irashie, seizing a silver whistle that hung round his neck, blew three shrill blasts, and, drawing his scimiter, made a savage slash at ready. But the scimiter slid harmlessly down the little boy, his cheek, and the coffee pot which Ippity hurl from the tree, bounced like a rubber ball off his head. "'It's the rubies, the rash rubies!' exalted Betsy-Bobbin. Betsy and Osba had jumped off the tiger, and the great beasts crouched at the foot of Ipity's

tree, was glaring upward with a look so terrible that the scribe of rash trembled till the very branches shook. "'See what's coming!' coughed Carter, with a warning wave toward the castle. In answer to irash's whistle, the entire army of rash was advancing upon the invaders. Spinage! gammon and spinach, sputtered the vegetable man wildly. Is that what you call him? Panted Atmos, putting the little girls firmly behind him, he made ready to tread upon the army's toes. Swinging his stick like a flail, Carter took his place at Reddy's right and roaring like a dozen cannons,

the hungry tiger placed himself at the little boys left. Reddy himself, giving no attention to the frantic slashes of the cemetery, nor the furious advance of the rash army, was pushing I. Rashy steadily backwards. And as the old rascal, breathless from his pummelings, turned to see whether his army were coming, Reddy snatched off I rashie's crown and tossed it back to Betsy Bobbin. Keep it for me, Betsy, puffed the little prince.

I can't use it now. clinging anxiously together, both little girls began to wish they had persuaded Reddy not to conquer irashing. How was one small boy, even though he was helped out by three magic rubies and five loyal friends, to conquer the entire army of rash? But Reddy's plans were all made. As the rashes rushed upon him, as the airman got in one splendid kick and Carter one tremendous whack, the little boy clapped on the giant's wig. You have never seen a more terrified and bewildered company. The screams of Irishi and his guardsmen, as ready shot skyward, nearly deafened Betsy and Osba.

And as he began to pick up one and then another of the soldiers and take away their swords, their terror was pitiful. They crawled, ran, leaped, and tumbled, and a wild scramble to get away, the hungry tiger snapping viciously at their heels, and the airmen helping them most efficiently with his iron boots. In one moment more, not a racher was to be seen anywhere. And that, grunted the airman,

rubbing his hands together with great glee, that is the end of the gammon and spinach. Irishy would have fled, too, had not at most seized him by the pantaloons, and swung him up in the tree beside Ipity. By this time, word of the frightful battle had reached the castle, and Fisinpup, his turbidivis,

standing straight on end, came flying out to see what had happened. But even Fesson Pop's knees smote together when he saw the great giant striding up and down the garden, and when the giant actually lifted him into the air, the Grand Vizier gave himself up for lost. Betsy and Osmond, delighted at the splendid victory, now came hurrying over, and while the hungry tiger guarded the two rascals in the tree, Reddy took off his wig and told Fisandpop the story of their adventures, proudly displaying the three magic rubies of Rash. At the sight of the rubies that the light and astonishment of the Grand Vizier knew no bounds. And after embracing ready a dozen times and prostrating himself twice before each of the others,

the old statesman rushed back to the palace. Next instant, the tower bells were tolling out a joyful welcome to the rightful ruler of Rash and Fizzenpop himself, in his best turban and tunic, was reading a proclamation from the pink balcony, stating that Everid the Scarlet Prince had returned, and the rule of Irashy the rough was over forever. Oh, about a little lunch, proposed the hungry tiger, putting his paws over his ears to drown out the roars and cheers of the populace.

Overjoyed at Irish's downfall, the citizens of Rash were celebrating the victory as noise, as possible. "'And what are we going to do with these two handsome rogues?' "'I have a notion to eat them up.' The hungry tiger roared, glaring ferociously at the trembling pear in the tree. "'Well, they certainly deserve it,' exclaimed Betsy, looking severely at irasci and Ipity. Don't you think so, Carter?'

The kind-hearted vegetable man pulled his corn ear in embarrassment. "'Live Osmond ready to side,' murmured Carter in a low voice. They're not an earthly bit of use to anyone, but perhaps they'll reform. He finished uncomfortably. At Carter's words, the airman gave a sudden mouts, and a gleam of purpose came into his round eye. Tie them up, advised Atmos, especially that prickly fingered one. Then after lunch we can decide what is to be done.

All right, agreed ready. And to be sure that they would not escape, he put on his big wig. Then, picking the two rashers out of the tree as if they had been toy soldiers, he wound them round and round with rope that Carter obligingly fetched from the castle. Ipity's pen and pencily fingers, he bound up securely in strips of his handkerchief, which, grown to giant's size, was large as a sheet. Then, with the two culprits trapping gloomily before them, the conquerors marched gaily to the pink palace, where a splendid repast already awaited them.

The hungry tiger's eyes shone with joy as he looked down at the long table. One entire inn had been reserved for him. "'Isn't this better than rash prisoners?' whispered Fisn't Pop, leading him kindly to his place and waving to the rare stakes and roasts he had provided. With a troubled glance at Osma, the hungry tiger nodded. He hoped that Fisandpop would not tell the others why he had come to rash. but Betsy and Osma were talking so busily they never even heard the Grand Vizier's remark. And if Ippity and Irish he are disposed of, I have nothing to fear, thought the tiger uneasily.

Reddy, still in his shabby clothes, but wearing the splendid ruby crown of rash, seated himself at the head of the table, and with Osma on his right and Betsy on his left, presided in a truly royal manner. Carter and Otmos did not eat at all, but their jokes and questions kept the whole company in a roar of merriment. It is seldom, observed old fissent pop, gazing fondly at the little prince. It is seldom that a city is captured without one broken bone. I am glad I did not break mine, said the airman, patting his chest proudly. Yours? gasped Betsy.

Why, Atmos, have you any bones? One, admitted the airman, feeling his chest. side experimentally. It's a floating rib, and I have never known just where it will be. Every airman has a floating rib, confided at most blandly. It helps them to float. Well, I think you are one of the most interesting persons I have ever met, cried Rudy, jumping to his feet. And Carter is the other. Oh, I do wish you could all stay and rash. Won't you stay? Won't you please stay? Betsy and Osma can take turns. being queen, Carter can be Royal Gardner, and the hungry tiger and atmos can be anything they want.

Thanks, murmured the airman. But what about my lecture? Besides, he looked bashfully from one to the other. I am engaged to an heiress and must return to the sky. But someday, when you have a few years to spare, I hope you'll all visit me and we'll go on a regular skylock. Oh, I love to, cried Betsy Bobin. You talk as if you were leaving us, objected the hungry tiger, raising himself with an effort. He had eaten a tremendous luncheon and could scarcely keep his eyes open. I am, declared the airman solemnly, pushing back his chair. And before the others half realized what he was about, the huge fellow had seized Ippity and Irishi and vanished through the doorway. End of Chapter 19

Chapter 20 of The Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson This Libre of Box recording is in the public domain. Chapter 20 Safe in the Emerald City Wait, wait! begged Asma, jumping up and hurrying after him. Ombost fair, utmost dear,

Don't you remember you promised to carry us across the desert and back to Oz? By this time, They had all run out into the garden, but Atmos did not even seem to hear their pleas. With Ippity and I rashy under one arm, he was feverishly kicking off his iron boots. These villains, puffed Atmos, holding up his unhappy victims, are, as Carter said, of no use on the earth at all, but they will be very useful to me in the sky. Not as good specimens as I could have wished for, but I will take them back with me.

to prove that there are really people at the bottom of the air. After the lecture, I shall drop them on some lonely island, where they can do no further mischief, declared at most calmly. Hooray, roared the hungry tiger, overjoyed that his secret would now be kept safely. After the lecture, gasped Osma faintly. But that will be years and years by skytime. Years and years, acknowledged at most with a grin,

and, freeing himself from one boot, soared a hundred feet into the air. Look out below, he called warningly. Here comes the other one. They had just time to dodge aside when the other iron boot came crashing to earth. Goodbye, shouted the airman in a faraway voice. Goodbye, little princess. I'll see you again sometime. Goodbye, called Osma, sadly. standing on tiptoe, the whole company strained their eyes to catch a last glimpse of their

strange fellow adventurer, but Atmos and the two wicked rashers had already disappeared above the clouds. Oh, wailed Asma suddenly, how are we going to cross the deadly desert now? Don't cross it, begged ready again. Stay here, please stay here. Maybe Dorothy or the wizard will look at the magic picture, suggested Beth, see, hopefully. Which out, Carter, you're taking root again. With a little exclamation of annoyance, the vegetable man jerked himself loose and began to comfort

the princess of Oz. It was really the best thing that could have happened, he assured her eagerly. With irasha and Ipity out of the way, Reddy can rule his kingdom in peace, and, while those two rogues will not really suffer, they will be kept out of mischief for years to come. That's so, mused Osma thoughtfully. And I'm rather glad Atmos has some proof. He was such an old dear, when you got to know him. You may have my big wig, if you wish, offered Reddy generously.

But I'm afraid, even as a giant, you could not step across the desert. No, sighed Asma, I suppose not. Besides, every ruler should have at least one magic possession. With the rash rubies and the giant's wig you ought to be able to rule for many years without any trouble. How about the rubies? asked Carter. Wouldn't the ruby that protected us from the Gnome King protect us from the burning sands?

Why, maybe it was that ruby that helped us to cross the desert in the first place. I had it then, you know. I thought it was the quick sandals, said Betsy. Maybe the ruby would not work on sand, Carter, and I have thought of something, cried Fiss and Pop, who was anxious for ready to keep all his magic treasures. It would be unwise for her majesty to risk crossing the desert with only the ruby to help her. But with our marvelous canes, nothing could harm her at all. Cains, murmured Osma.

Hurry canes, smiled the Grand Vizier. With our patent action, Tripoli guaranteed Hurricanes, you can all cross the deadly desert and returned safely to Oz. Oh, fizzin pop, explained Reddy in the light. Why didn't I think of that? The hungry tiger rolled up his eyes and shuddered, but the others who had never ridden a rash hurricane were charmed with the grand vizier's suggestion. That evening, after Reddy had shown Osba and the others all over his pretty pink kingdom, and after the populace had given three cheers for the rescuers of rash, Vizenpop took five hurricanes from the umbrella stand.

Five, because at the last minute, Reddy insisted upon going to the Emerald City too. giving fizz and pop the giant wig but keeping the rash rubies himself and promising to return in a month ready mounted his hurricane then at a signal from the little prince each traveller clapped the head upon his cane and in five furious flashes they were off for oz and five minutes later a little shocked and breathless dropped down in the emerald city itself knowing that dear delightful places you do you can imagine imagine the welcome accorded the travelers. There were feasts and processions and story-tellings and parties enough to satisfy even the hungry tiger. For days nothing was talked of but the marvelous adventures of Betsy Bobbin and the Little Princess of Oz. Carter Green was so sought after and invited about, he could not have taken root even had he wanted to. The little Prince Everett has since returned to his own country, but often

comes over to spend a pleasant evening in the castle, bringing along his big wig to entertain a scarecrow. As for the hungry tiger, he never drops off to sleep without thanking his stars he is not a kitten. And if at times he looks a little hollow-eyed and wan, he is on the whole happier than ever, for he has learned that it is better to have a stomachache than a heartache, and the heartaches he had in rash,

missing his friends, cured him forever of the disaster. desire to eat a live man. In the pink palace of rash, the iron boots of Otmos are still shown to visitors to prove that an airman really visited that country. And on clear nights old fizzin-pop with a telescope tries to catch a glimpse of his wicked countrymen. End of Chapter 20. End of the Hungry Tiger of Oz by Ruth Plumley Thompson.